For the longest time, I had been sceptical of the idea of a Trans-Alp trek. Ever since I started working as a mountain leader, I had my reservations mostly due to the hike’s booming popularity and the widespread practice of using taxi transfers between stages. To me, it felt commercialized and disjointed, far from the purist mountain experience I aim to offer. That is why I did not include one of the traditional Trans-Alp routes in my official Shanti Treks program. But when a friend of a friend reached out, asking if I would organize such a trek as a private tour, I was intrigued. It was her husband’s milestone birthday, and a Trans-Alp had always been something he wanted to do. A group of his friends were on board too. Though I had my doubts, I was also curious and honoured. It was my first ever private group booking, and I could not have been prouder when this group of men signed up to cross the Alps with me.

At Shanti Treks, most of my guests are women. I assume it is partly because I am a woman myself, and my profile suggests a slower, more mindful pace one that emphasizes connection with nature over conquering it. That energy seems to resonate more with women. I have also experienced my fair share of sexism in the mountains. A few months ago, I even wrote a fiery blog post about it after being belittled again and again by men who questioned my credentials and capabilities as a guide. Thankfully, I let my sister and dad read it first. They gently advised that it might have been a bit too harsh, and in the end, I chose not to publish it.

There have been moments when I seriously considered making Shanti Treks a women-only business. My experiences with female guests have been overwhelmingly positive, while the occasional interactions with male clients or fellow hikers have sometimes left me hurt. As women, we occupy so few spaces where we are the majority, where we feel truly seen that I seriously toyed with the idea of creating one of those spaces in the mountains. But just when I was mulling over that change, the all-male Trans-Alp booking came in. So I put that decision on hold. And I am glad I did.

From the start, I had a good feeling about the group. Even before the trek began, we had a few nice phone calls. They were eager for information, packing tips, hut details, terrain expectations. It was clear they were excited and respected my knowledge. Still, I braced myself for the challenge. When we set off, the pace and energy felt a little unsettled—there was a sense of adjustment as everyone found their footing. That’s completely normal, and something I see on all my treks. It usually just takes a bit of time for the group to ease into a steady rhythm. The first couple of days were about getting organized: making sure everyone had eaten, filled their water bottles, packed their poles, and did not leave essential gear behind at the huts. But soon, things clicked. They found their rhythm and began moving as one - like a wolf pack.

Each of them found his place: the entertainer who kept morale high, the wildlife spotter, the slow-and-steady pacer, the inquisitive, and the mediator who defused any tension. And me? I was never questioned. They treated me as the leader, their trusted guide, and often said as much to others we passed. I was touched by the respect and kindness they showed me. What especially moved me was how they asked every day for the evening yoga class knowing how much it helped ease their bodies before the next day’s hike. They were open, curious, eager to learn. Guiding them was a joy.

And beyond that, it was clearly something very special for them as friends. Some had met for the first time and a few of them mentioned how long it had been since they had spent this much uninterrupted time together, no distractions, no families or jobs in between. Just walking, talking, laughing, and figuring things out as a group. It was a rare kind of quality time that deepened old friendships and formed new ones in a way that only the mountains can.

As different as they were, the group fit together well. It reminded me of many other Shanti Treks experiences: people from vastly different walks of life, united by a shared love for the mountains. That is the magic of trekking. We all come to escape our routines, feel our bodies, and reconnect with the awe of nature. And we do so while carrying little on our backs, wearing the same t-shirt for days, and not caring about our hair.

Our route took us from Watzmann to Tre Cime – an epic journey through changing landscapes and challenging terrain. We began in Germany, crossing the Steinernes Meer via the Kärlingerhaus and Riemannhaus. Then came a dramatic shift as we entered Austria's Hohe Tauern National Park, with its rugged peaks and steep slopes. We stayed at the charming, privately run Trauneralm and the iconic Glocknerhaus. Crossing into Italy, the terrain transformed again. The Dolomites greeted us with their towering rock faces and lunar beauty. Our final night was at the Drei-Schuster-Hütte, just below the magnificent Tre Cime – the grand finale of our journey.

But this route is not to be underestimated. The Pfandlscharte – the Schlüsselstelle (key passage) of the tour – with its year-round snowfield and risk of rockfall, demands caution. So do the heavy backpacks, long daily distances, and physical toll of seven days on foot. It is a tough trek. But I enjoy pushing my own limits and encouraging others to find theirs. And standing beneath the Tre Cime, watching the men proudly call their families, all of them with children waiting eagerly at home, was a moment of quiet joy.

I must admit that during this week I deeply came to appreciate how truly incredible this journey across the Alps is. It’s amazing to see – and feel – how the mountains change almost daily as we move from country to country. Each day brings a new kind of terrain: from steep ascents and long descents to gentle alpine meadows, rocky stretches that demand careful footing, exposed trails skirting sheer drops, and even snowfields that require spikes to cross safely. The variety keeps you alert, challenged, and constantly in awe. And throughout it all, the mountain vistas never stop taking your breath away.

And just like that, it ended. A final celebratory beer at the hut, a quick descent through brewing thunderstorms, and a parting of ways: my train back to Munich, and their shuttle to Berchtesgaden. In the days that followed, I missed our early yoga sessions, the trail banter, the deep conversations, the uncontrollable laughter, and the peaceful silences. What moved me most was that, for many of them, this was not just a one-off adventure, or a bucket list item ticked off. It felt like a reset, a shift in perspective, a rekindling of something they had not known they were missing. I could sense that this journey had planted a seed. They left not only proud of what they had accomplished but hungry for more - more mountains, more movement, more moments of quiet awe. Some are keen to show their children these landscapes, to pass on their newfound love for the wild. And that touched me deeply because our future depends on it. Teaching the next generation to love, respect, and protect these places is perhaps the most important journey of all. I have no doubt they will be back.

On our last day, I asked the guys what they had learned on the trek, what surprised them, what had been different or better than expected. And in the end, they turned the question back to me. My answer came easily: I now know that I do not want to close Shanti Treks to any specific group. I want it to remain open and welcoming to anyone who loves and respects the outdoors who is fit enough, curious enough, and willing to embrace the simplicity and discomfort that remote trekking demands. Funnily enough, perhaps as a final reminder of the biases we still face, it was not a man but a local woman who asked my group if they were comfortable walking behind me, with a woman leading the pack. And it was my boys - my wolf pack - who stood up without hesitation and said they would not want it any other way.

There will be another Watzmann - Tre Cime Trans-Alp next year. And, despite what I considered before, it will not be a women-only tour, but open to anyone ready to embrace the challenge with respect, curiosity, and an open heart.

I have not suddenly stopped believing that sexism exists in the mountains - far from it. But what this trek reminded me is that the solution is not found in separation. What I need on my treks are women and men who stand beside me, speak up when it matters, and help create a space where everyone feels seen and supported. Because the fight for equality is not something we can win alone. It is something we do together.

If this kind of journey has been on your mind, I would love to hear from you. Do not hesitate to get in touch to learn more about what it takes to participate in a Trans-Alp, and to be the first to hear when dates for 2026 are released.

Let’s cross mountains together.