Exploring the world of the ice giants

SALZBURG, Austria -- ``You have to climb inside an alp,'' advised the Salzburg local, ``if you want to see the real Austria.'' Although it was time to take a break from the city's museums and chamber music, I wasn't sure I was up to this kind of physical challenge. My traveling companion, Ben, however, couldn't resist. And so we went.

Eroded 65 million years ago by an underground river, the Eisreisenweldt is, as Austrians say, ``something out of a fairy tale.'' This ``World of the Ice Giants,'' comprising three miles of interconnected caverns, extends deep into the western cliffs of the Hochkogel alpine range. Located above the town of Werfen, only 40 minutes from Salzburg, the Eisreisenweldt is best explored in summer.

After hiking 2 1/2 hours to reach the ice-encrusted cave, Ben and I began our exploration with a group of 20 people. We stepped into the darkness of the caverns, and the frigid winds seemed to suck us back out into the light. In summer their currents are like a vacuum for the first 100 steps inside, later dropping off to just bursts of cold air. At the onset of winter, those gusts form the ice configurations, which resemble sleeping elephants and lion's heads. Cold air from the outside sweeps into the cave and freezes the snow that dissolved during summer. Today's melting would shape next year's frozen tunnels and waterfalls.

Our cave guide, Friedrich, motioned for us to follow him closely. At least this is what we think he instructed us to do, because he spoke only German. We had counted on finding a helpful translator in our group, but most people visiting this natural wonder in June, still the off-season in Austria, were from Italy or Eastern Germany. Piecing together all the words Ben could remember from his college German course -- ``climb,'' ``mountain,'' ``cold,'' ``fire,'' ``death'' -- we created our own story from our leader's narrative. Number translation is Ben's forte: He understood that the cave was discovered in 1892 and opened to the public in 1912.

Magnesium and actelyne from the flares of our lanterns illuminated the cave walls in a surreal pink, blue, and white bonfire. ``This must be the mythical part,'' I mused, because even though they'd been frozen for thousands of years, the slick embankments, or ice cascades, looked as though they gushed downward. We started up the wooden stairs.

The vastness of the ice hole is astounding. Deep inside the mountain, 5,141 feet above sea level, I felt apprehensive about what lay ahead, but I didn't feel confined. I stood on the paths secured into the ice, and reached out to the 50-foot-thick ice humps, knocking my knuckles against them as if to test their density. As Friedrich wound us around each corner, the natural daggers loomed larger overhead. Touching ancient stalactites intrigued me, but I was afraid if I stood on tiptoes I'd lose my footing. The temperature of the cave varies; some parts of it literally melt before you, dripping onto the oaken stairs. One misstep on the frozen path might have sent me sliding down the awesome ice chutes, hundreds of feet below.

Friedrich was a tireless leader. He bounded ahead, up the stairs, and onto ice platforms to re-light his flare and call out information about the rooms. Halfway to the top, near the ``ice cathedral'' with its elevated, dome ceilings, my legs started to shake -- not because I was spooked knowing that the first cave explorer's ashes are buried right where I stood -- but because the constant stepping and brisk winds were cramping my leg muscles. We kept going, past the other ice rooms, or galleries, named after figures from Nordic myths -- Hymir Hall, Frigga's Veil, and Odin's Room.

More harrowing than the climb, our descent was in contemplative silence. Black holes between the curtains of ice seemed to engulf the staircase as I wound myself down. Walking through the same rooms, we were on a different path now, viewing the ice pillars and buttresses from a different angle. I beheld the icy cascades for the last time, turned into the glaring sunlight, and exited into the 80-degree afternoon.

Ben and I are fit yet average athletes, and we discovered that getting to the Eisreisenweldt was more challenging than exploring the inside. Since we were treating this trip as an adventure, we avoided the easier routes of shuttle buses and cable cars and reached the cave via a vigorous hike. The staff at the tourist office in the center of Werfen, a 10-minute walk from the train station, suggested the appropriate clothing to wear, told us the weather conditions in the mountains, gave us the bus schedules, but neglected to inform us that the first leg of the journey upward was a four-mile trek up a curvy mountain road. Had I known, I might have taken the shuttle bus to the first parking and resting spot, to save time.

The second leg of the hike continues up a paved path to the cableway. Smaller shuttle buses run infrequently on this next leg. Walking is a better option -- for photos and for sunbathing on the giant rocks that jut out from the side of the mountain. Despite Ben's pleadings, I couldn't help singing the old Carpenters' line: ``I'm on top of the world, looking down on creation'' as I moved along.

The frightening three-minute cable car ride is the second-to-last leg of the journey upward: a 60-degree-angle ascent in a metal box that rocked in the wind. Ben and I chose the ride -- no amusement involved -- as a time-saver, but other tourists were hiking the steep 1,640 feet to the cave tour ticket box and beer garden. We were hungry, since our daylong feat was only three quarters over, but skipped the offerings of dense gravies and meats and quickly changed into the clothes we were advised to bring. The hollowed alp perched directly overhead as we began our final hike to the opening, perspiring in jackets and long pants.

Three hours later, we were back in Salzburg, exhausted from our adventure but eager to boast to anyone we met, ``We climbed inside an alp today. What did you do?''

Wear hiking boots or sneakers with good grips. The guides will not permit anyone with open-toed shoes or floppy sandals to take the tour.

Leave enough time to see the cave. Tours run hourly from 9:30 a.m. to 4:30 p.m. in July and August (and fewer hours in the off-season). Take shuttle buses and cable cars to reach the cave entrance in an hour. Combine walking with shuttle buses and cable cars or walk the entire way to arrive between two and five hours.

It's not every day you can climb inside an alp, so, of course, it'll cost you. Transportation to the cave plus the cave entrance fee is $25 to $40.

Call the Salzburg Railway Station at 0662/8887-0 for train times to Werfen. Call the Werfen Tourist Center at 06468/291 for additional information.