Visiting the Alpine Farmer at Rossalm

After climbing to the summit of Geigelstein, I reached my day’s destination, the Rossalm. It covers around 50 hectares and lies on a high plateau between Rossalpenkopf, Tauron, and Weitlahnerkopf at an altitude of 1,600 to 1,750 metres. This makes it the highest alpine pasture in Chiemgau and one of the highest in the Bavarian Alps. Its origins date back to the Sachrang Alpine Pasture Regulations of 1558, where it is listed as one of the three Sachrang ancient alpine pastures. The name Rossalm comes from the fact that the Schleching ‘Samerbauern’ (pack-horse farmers) used to be allowed to drive “Samrosse”, i.e. horses, onto the alpine pasture in addition to cattle *. The alpine pasture is an impressive alpine cultural landscape with a peaceful, quiet atmosphere.

Having already had the chance to experience the daily life of alpine farmers during a stay at the Ackernalm this summer, another opportunity arose with a colleague to gain deeper insight into life and work on an alpine pasture. The alpine farmer Josef ‘Sepp’ Gröbmeyer is the current tenant of the Rossalm, which belongs to the Bavarian State Forest Administration. The tenancy has been in the family for several generations. The Rossalm is located in the Geigelstein nature reserve and is also part of the Sachrang Mountain Farmer Model, which is committed to preserving the cultural landscape.

This results in certain conditions for its management, but it also means that to this day, no road allows for easy transport of goods to the alpine pasture. Cattle are driven up to the alpine pasture, i.e., “stocked”, from approximately June to the end of September; this year, there were 38 head of cattle – 27 of their own cattle and calves, plus one ox, and 11 head from other farmers. The cattle also use the path from the Oberkaseralm below the Geigelstein, past the Rossalmkopf, to the hut for their ascent and descent. The cows’ milk is processed directly on-site into fresh butter and also sold to hikers.

The current alpine hut, also called Kaserer, was built entirely by Josef’s father-in-law between 1951 and 1953. Since there was no possibility for the complex transport of building materials, local raw materials were used. Trees in the vicinity were felled by hand for the timber. The beams and planks were then sawn on-site with a frame saw. After the timber framework was erected, the walls were bricked up. Stones from nearby were also used for this. To produce the quicklime needed for the mortar and plaster, a lime kiln was built on the opposite northern slope. The location can still be identified today by the differing vegetation due to the higher concentration of lime in the soil, appearing as a light patch in the meadow on the slope (north-west of the hut). The large stable was then added in the 1960s.

Upon arrival at the hut, I was warmly welcomed like any other guest. Today, many of the alpine farmers’ family members were present to prepare for the upcoming cattle drive and the end of the alpine season. In addition to serving guests cakes and snacks, lunch was being prepared in the kitchen. It was also time to tie the ‘Kranzkraut’ – the decorations for the cows for the upcoming cattle drive. For this, juniper, heather, long-stemmed gentian, and sometimes alpine roses were collected and bound into arrangements. The men were still out getting firewood. This involves sawing down mountain pines, among other things, and transporting them to the shed with a tractor.

Slowly, a motorcycle approached over the grassy ridge. I eventually recognised it as the one that had passed me on the way up. The rider was carrying a bulging backpack. Two large panniers were attached to the machine on either side. He was highly concentrated, trying to maintain balance and navigate uneven ground as gently as possible to protect the delicate cargo. It was the alpine farmer’s son, transporting supplies of drinks and food this way – on this particular day, a large number of beer bottles. The enduro bikes have been reliably serving their purpose for several decades – in these regions, robust tools and machines are essential.

At lunchtime, a large community, spanning three generations from grandfather to grandson, gathers in the hut’s main room. It’s a short time to rest and recharge, but also for conviviality and cheer. Because of the many guests, Sepp straps on his accordion and delights everyone present, both inside and out, with a few melodies before everyone returns to the day’s remaining tasks. For me, it was soon time to say goodbye and start the journey back. I’m sure this won’t be my last time up here.