Rotwand from Spitzingsee: Up on Foot, Down by Cable Car, and a Käsespätzle in Between

Getting there

The RB from Munich Hauptbahnhof leaves at 8:28 from platform 35 — get there early, people were already seated 15 minutes before departure. One quirk worth knowing: the train is actually three trains coupled together, splitting apart further down the line toward different destinations. Don't panic if the carriage number and destination shown at the front don't match what you booked — walk further down the platform (or the train) and you'll find the section that matches. Ours ended as RB55 to Bayerischzell; our stop was Schliersee.

Bus 362 was already waiting at Schliersee, headed for Spitzingsee. It filled up fast — close to 80% full — and the driver mostly just glanced at a Deutschland-Ticket rather than checking it properly, letting people board through the back doors too. Fifteen minutes later, we were at Spitzingsee. (Worth knowing either way: trains from Munich to this line run every half hour on weekends and hourly on weekdays — genuinely easy to get to without a car.)

Reading the sign before you commit

I started at 10:04. By the time I was back down in the afternoon, around 3pm, the car park was about 70% full. There are two lots to know about here: park by the lake and it's €6 a day; park right by the cable car and it's €5 a day (or free if you're carrying a ski pass), payable via the Parkster app or the machine on-site — bring coins, since at least one of those machines flatly refuses card payment. Camper vans elsewhere in the area run €25 for 24 hours, plus a small local tourist tax. Most of it runs on automatic number-plate recognition rather than a barrier. There's a free portable toilet at the car park too, with its own signature aroma, exactly what you'd expect from a car-park toilet mid-season. If you're travelling by camper, there's also a system for pre-ordering fresh bread and breakfast for the next morning through a sign at the lot — no app needed, you just collect it from a box.

Ten minutes up the trail, at a junction stacked with yellow signposts, the numbers lay it out plainly: Taubenstein in 1¾ hours, Rotwandhaus in 2¼, Rotwand's summit — 1,884 m — in 2½. Right around the same spot is the valley-station ticket window for the Taubenstein cable car — a friendly attendant, prices posted for €13 one-way, €23 return for adults, €12 for kids, €56 for a family of two adults and up to six kids, €4 for a dog. I asked whether I'd need to buy a return ticket now if I planned to ride down later in the day; she said no — buying it at the top, right before you ride, works just fine.

Haki tip: the DAV sign a few minutes further up the trail — 'Alpine experience, sure-footedness and a head for heights required' — isn't decorative. It's marking the first of two cable-secured sections on this route — one here near Taubenstein, another right below Rotwand's summit. If that sentence describes you, you're fine. If it doesn't, the cable car is right there.

The cable at Taubenstein

By 11:25 I was at Taubenstein, 1,693 m. There's a fixed cable here, on rock slippery enough that a few families with kids were standing at the bottom deciding whether to go up or just turn around.

On to the summit

The push from Taubenstein continues past the upper station of the Taubenstein cable car — its cabins parked in neat rows, proof plenty of people skip this whole climb for €13. The final approach to Rotwand's actual summit needs its own cable too — a short, steep run of rock steps right below the cross. Sheep, apparently, manage this section without much trouble: the ground around the summit cross, cable-secured steps included, is so thoroughly covered in droppings that finding a clean place to sit is its own small challenge. (Watch your step generally — elsewhere on the trail, more than one hiking boot had left a very specific, very avoidable pattern behind in a cow pat.) I reached the top, 1,884 m, around 12:35. Like most Bavarian summits on a clear day, it wasn't exactly solitary — half the hikers up there had already claimed a patch of grass, dogs included, with no plans to move.

The steep bit down to Miesingsattel

Getting from the summit cross down to Miesingsattel (13:06) was the one stretch that actually made me nervous — steep enough that I'd think twice about going down it if the rock were wet. If you're doing this loop and the weather's uncertain, go up this section rather than down. Once the sun dropped behind the ridge the temperature fell fast, and I was glad I'd packed a jacket even in September. On the way down I also passed a nice little cluster of porcini growing right by the trail — surprising, given how dry the season had otherwise been — and, further along near a small farm, a set of surprisingly nice new solar-powered toilets right on the trail. I also walked past the Taubensteinhaus, a small, cozy hut with noticeably cheaper prices and a direct view across to Rotwand — I didn't stop this time, but I came back for it a few days later (more on that below).

Lunch, self-service, with a view

By 14:15 I was at the buffet near the cable car — self-service, phone signal available, seating outside, inside, or in a glassed-in section that keeps the panorama going while you eat. The Käsespätzle mit Bergkäse (€16.50) is not subtle — it has a strong, distinctive smell that won't be for everyone, but the flavor is intense in the best way, and the portion could easily cover two people. The Hopf Helle Weisse (€5) is cash-only, poured from the bottle into a glass with a serious head of foam: crisp, fizzy, fruity, citrusy, a light hop aroma up front and only a mild bitterness at the very end. Light-bodied, genuinely refreshing, and about as good as a wheat beer gets after a few hours on a mountain. Bring coins if you need the toilet here too — 50 cents, and it's worth carrying a euro and some 50-cent pieces in Bavaria generally.

Down by cable car

At the top station, I bought a one-way ticket at the automat rather than the payment terminal right next to the cabins — the lift staff there pointed me to the machine instead, which was quick, and partly in English (though, this being Germany, plenty of the fine print stays German-only regardless of what the machine promises). Then I rode the Taubenstein cable car back down — 15:17 to 15:31, 14 minutes, cabins holding four people at a time. Walking down instead would have added another hour to ninety minutes; taking the lift meant more time for the view, the food, the beer, and — since I ended up with time to kill anyway — Spitzingsee itself, from the shore, before heading home.

Getting back

I missed the 15:31 bus back by about a minute — not a disaster, since they run every half hour, and the next was at 16:01. (If you're doing this outside the season, note that the last bus timed to the 18:01 train only runs May through November — after that it's on foot or by taxi.) The bus filled up further at the Spitzingsee Kirche stop, with the driver again just waving people in through the back rather than checking tickets one by one. If you've got the time, there's also a pleasant walk around Spitzingsee itself for anyone not ready to head home yet.

Rather than ride the bus all the way to Schliersee, I got off early at Fischhausen Neuhaus — a train covering the same route through Schliersee was due in two minutes, and it beats staying on a packed bus. That particular weekend, Fischhausen had its own small Volksfest going, with plenty of people arriving from Munich already in Tracht — a mini Oktoberfest warm-up. Back in Munich by 17:36.

Why Rotwand, and whether it's worth it

The original plan was actually to hike Auerspitz. Partway up, it made more sense to switch to Rotwand instead — higher, at 1,884 m, and it closes into a nicer loop: about 8 km on foot, valley station to the summit and on to the upper cable-car station, roughly 780–800 m of ascent (the valley station sits at about 1,100 m). The whole on-foot stretch took 4 hours 15 minutes, snack break included. Taking the lift down bought back the hour to ninety minutes a full walking descent would have cost — enough to actually sit with the view, eat properly, and still make it home by early evening.

Worth the hype, without hesitation. It's a genuinely good hike that stays remarkably close to Munich, and on a clear day you can see all the way to Wendelstein and its observatory from up on the ridge. There's enough else to do in this same valley, fanning out in different directions, that this won't be the last time we're back.

Second visit: stopping at Taubensteinhaus

A few days later I was back up at Spitzingsee, this time with one goal: actually stop at Taubensteinhaus, the hut I'd walked straight past on the way down from Rotwand the first time. It's smaller and quieter than the self-service buffet by the cable car, with the same kind of direct view across to Rotwand, and a noticeably more laid-back, family atmosphere — while we ate, a small herd of goats wandered over and started grazing right next to the tables, completely unbothered by anyone around them.

We had the Hacker-Pschorr Münchner Hell vom Fass (€5.20) — fresh and easy-drinking, a good match for the setting. The salad with feta and Kalamata olives (€15.50) turned out to be more Bavarian than Mediterranean once it arrived: potato salad, and both white and red cabbage salad, sitting right alongside the greens, olives, feta, and grated carrot. The Kaspressknödelsuppe (€8.50) was a small portion, but the broth was genuinely good and well-seasoned, with two generous cheese dumplings in it. The Kaiserschmarrn mit Apfelmus (€14.50) is the obligatory order at any Bavarian hut — and, if I'm honest, still a category where the best versions I've had were down in the cities, not up in the mountains. This one was solidly good, with a fair-sized portion, but hasn't changed that streak yet. The Obazda mit Brezn (€8.90) was the smallest portion of Obazda I've seen anywhere in these mountains — a little salty, a little spicy, tasty enough, but the price only really makes sense once you see how little of it there is (the buffet by the cable car sells the same thing for €12, portion unknown).

Worth building a short, low-key outing around on its own — or just factoring into the original loop if you've got the legs and the appetite for one more stop.