If there’s one thing the mountains have taught me, it’s never to trust the weather you leave the car park in.
You’ve probably heard people say, “If you don’t like the weather, wait ten minutes.” It sounds like one of those clichés that gets repeated everywhere, but it’s surprisingly accurate.
I’ve started hikes in bright sunshine wearing nothing but a T-shirt, only to be pulling on a waterproof an hour later because the cloud’s rolled in from nowhere.
That’s just mountain weather.
I’ve stopped trying to fight it. If you head into the mountains expecting conditions to change, you’re already halfway to dealing with them.
I Never Trust One Forecast
The first thing I do before any hike is compare forecasts.
Not because I’m obsessed with whether it’ll be 12°C or 14°C on the summit. I couldn’t care less.
I’m looking at wind, visibility, thunderstorms and when the weather is expected to change. Those are the things that decide whether a day is enjoyable, miserable or, occasionally, dangerous.
Once I’m actually in the mountains, I trust local knowledge more than my phone.
If a hotel has a weather board in reception, I’ll have a look.
If I’m staying at a mountain hut, I’ll ask the hut warden how things are looking.
They know what the forecast says, but they also know what the mountain has actually been doing all week. That’s often far more useful.
I’ve climbed the Zugspitze several times via the Höllental route, and every time I’ve been glad I asked about the glacier and the bergschrund before setting off. Guidebooks and apps can only tell you so much. The people who are there every day usually know far more.
The Valley Lies
One mistake I made early on was assuming the weather in the valley was the weather I’d get all day.
It sounds obvious now.
At the time, not so much.
Some of my first Alpine hikes were around Garmisch-Partenkirchen and Berchtesgaden. I’d spend hours climbing in warm sunshine, arrive on the summit dripping in sweat and think I’d earned a nice long break.
Five minutes later I’d be freezing.
A bit of wind at 2,000 metres feels very different to a warm morning in the valley.
These days a waterproof shell lives in my backpack. So does a lightweight insulated jacket. They don’t come out on every trip, but when they do, I’m always glad I carried them.
The same goes for a thin beanie and lightweight gloves. They barely weigh anything, and they’ve made more than one cold descent far more comfortable.
The Mountain Normally Gives You a Hint
Forecasts are useful, but they’re not magic.
I spend just as much time looking up as I do looking at my phone.
Cloud building faster than expected.
The wind suddenly changing direction.
Visibility disappearing far quicker than it should.
Those are all things that make me stop and think.
Thunderstorms are the one thing I don’t mess around with.
If you’re on an exposed ridge or clipped onto a via ferrata when lightning arrives, you’ve already left it too late.
Sometimes Turning Around Is the Right Call
One day in early June, two friends and I were crossing the Alpspitze near Garmisch-Partenkirchen.
As we dropped towards the Höllental Valley, the weather turned far quicker than any of us expected. Dark cloud rolled in, we heard thunder in the distance and immediately picked up the pace towards the Höllentalanger Hut.
On the way down we met two hikers heading up.
They were planning to take the cable car back after reaching the summit.
The only problem was it wasn’t running yet. It was still before the main summer season.
We explained they’d still have several hours of walking ahead of them even after reaching the top and suggested they come back down with us.
They thanked us.
Then carried on anyway.
We mentioned them to the hut warden when we arrived.
Thankfully they made it down later that evening soaked, cold and completely exhausted, but otherwise okay.
That day stuck with me.
The weather wasn’t really the problem.
Ignoring what the weather was telling them was.
The Stuff You Hope You Never Use
My head torch spends most of its life sitting at the bottom of my backpack.
So does my first-aid kit.
My power bank.
My emergency bivvy.
I hope I don’t use any of them.
They’re still coming with me.
Hikes take longer than you expect. You stop for lunch. You take more photos. You miss a turning. You spend an extra hour on the summit because the view’s incredible.
Before you know it, you’re finishing in the dark.
The emergency gear only feels unnecessary until the day it isn’t.
One Late Start Changed How I Plan
One of my earliest Alpine hikes was across the Schärtenspitze near Berchtesgaden with my now wife.
We made one mistake before we’d even started.
We left far too late.
By the time we reached the summit it was already late afternoon. Then the weather closed in, visibility dropped and finding the route over the rocky ground became much harder than we’d expected.
By the time darkness arrived, we were very glad we’d packed head torches.
Nothing bad happened.
But it easily could have.
That day taught me something I still think about now.
Preparation doesn’t start when you leave the car park.
It starts the night before.
Tell Someone Where You're Going
Mobile signal disappears surprisingly quickly once you’re properly into the mountains.
Because of that, I always tell someone roughly where I’m heading and when I expect to be back.
If I’m staying in a hut, I’ll usually mention my plans to the hut warden or write them in the logbook.
It takes about thirty seconds.
If something goes wrong, those thirty seconds could matter.
I also download offline maps before every trip.
And yes, I still carry a paper map and compass.
Call me old-fashioned, but I often find a proper map quicker to understand than endlessly pinching and zooming around on a phone screen.
Good Preparation Doesn't Make Hiking Boring
Some people think carrying extra kit or turning around early somehow takes the adventure out of hiking.
I’ve never seen it that way.
The mountains will always throw surprises at you. That’s part of why I keep going back.
Being prepared doesn’t remove the adventure.
It just gives you a better chance of enjoying it.
I’ve never regretted carrying an extra layer.
I’ve never regretted checking one more forecast.
I’ve never regretted turning back because something didn’t feel right.
Missing one summit is forgettable.
Getting yourself into trouble because you wanted to tick it off isn’t.
For me, a successful day in the mountains isn’t about standing on every summit.
It’s about getting home safe, learning something every time I go out and already looking forward to the next trip before I’ve even unpacked my backpack.
