The One Thing I Regretted Forgetting on My First Via Ferrata

The morning started perfectly.

Cool mountain air. Empty roads through Lower Austria. The first sunlight slowly touching the cliffs of Hohe Wand above the forest.

It was one of those mornings that make you feel like everything will go exactly according to plan.

We arrived at the parking area just after sunrise. Only a few climbers were already there tightening harnesses and drinking coffee next to their cars. Somewhere high above us, barely visible against the limestone wall, tiny figures were already moving along the steel cable.

That was our route.

Gebirgsvereinssteig.

My first real via ferrata.

I remember feeling excited more than nervous. We had prepared for weeks:

• checked the weather,
• rented proper gear,
• downloaded offline maps,
• packed enough water,
• and read every guide we could find.

At least we thought we had prepared for everything.

Before starting the hike, I opened my backpack one last time: helmet, harness, ferrata set, jacket, snacks.

Everything looked fine.

An hour later, halfway through the first cable section, I realized I had forgotten one small thing.

Gloves.

At first it didn’t seem important.

The steel cable felt cold in the morning shade, and clipping carabiners was easy enough. But as the route became steeper, I started gripping the cable harder and harder without even noticing.

After the first exposed traverse, my palms were already burning.

Then came the ladders.

The metal had started heating up under direct sunlight, and every movement along the cable scraped my hands a little more. Tiny steel strands sticking out from older sections of cable felt like needles against my skin.

That’s when I understood why experienced climbers always talk about gloves.

Not because they make the route easier.

Because they quietly remove a problem before it becomes dangerous.

What surprised me most wasn’t the pain itself. It was how much mental energy it consumed.

Instead of enjoying the incredible views across Hohe Wand and the surrounding valleys of Lower Austria, I kept thinking about my hands:

• where to grip,
• how much it hurt,
• how long the next section would be,
• and whether the harder parts were still ahead.

Little mistakes in the mountains become very big surprisingly fast.

Especially when exposure enters the equation.

About two hours later, we reached one of the exposed upper sections with steep drops below us and endless green hills stretching toward the horizon.

Normally, it should have been the highlight of the day.

Instead, I mostly remember my hands.

That was also the moment I realized something else about via ferrata that nobody really explains to beginners.

Via ferrata is rarely technically difficult.

The real challenge is staying mentally comfortable long enough to enjoy it.

Every small discomfort slowly drains your focus:

• heat,
• fear of heights,
• tired legs,
• dehydration,
• poorly fitting gear,
• or something as simple as forgotten gloves.

And once your focus drops, the mountain suddenly feels much bigger.

We finally reached the upper plateau sometime after noon.

A few climbers were sitting on the rocks eating sandwiches while warm wind moved through the trees above the cliffs. Somebody pointed toward Schneeberg in the distance while another climber tried to identify nearby peaks from memory.

I pulled out my phone and opened Hill Explorer.

For the first time that day, we stopped thinking about the climb itself and simply looked around.

Peak after peak suddenly had a name.

It completely changed the feeling of the summit.

The mountains around us stopped being anonymous shapes on the horizon and became places with stories, routes and history.

Oddly enough, that became my favorite memory from the entire day.

Not the ladders.

Not the exposure.

Not even the summit.

Just standing there quietly, finally understanding what we were actually looking at.

On the descent back to the valley, my hands hurt every time I touched the cable.

And yet, before reaching the parking lot, we were already talking about which ferrata we wanted to try next.

That’s the strange thing about mountains.

Even when something goes wrong, you usually come back wanting more.

But ever since that climb, there’s one thing I always check before leaving the car.

Gloves.

Every single time.