Seichenkopf is said to be a rather infrequently visited mountain in Tannheim. Approached from the parking of the Bad Kissinger hut by Aggenstein it's a 1h hike to the start of the climbs (briefly but adequately described in the Panico guidebook for Allgäu). The north face is called Speicherwand, and it offers a few bolted routes mostly around grade 6. We first climbed Henneleitr (6+) but aborted due to an accident, as recounted in a personal narrate below. After this we settled for Westkante (officially 4+), and managed without further incidents.

Seichenkopf Speicherwand: Climbing Henneleitr and Westkante

A fair early summer day arose with promise. We itched to rediscover alpine climbing. This time though preferably atop a flowering meadow rather than a vast snow field, tuned to summer as we were. The forecasted warmth of the day would require no less than a north face for shade. But where? All the nearby mountaintops were still lined with snow…
The choice fell on the slightly lower mountains of Tannheim. Soon after sunrise we headed over the Hindelang pass for Seichenkopf (1864 m). Its north face, "Speicherwand", promised three good things. Apart from escaping the heat, one would ostensibly have both loneliness and a few easy enough routes to clamber on.

Now, if all this sounded a little bit too satisfying for a proper alpine day, perhaps it will help with an honest account of what really happened.

"How nice to be all alone!" we agreed, grinning toward the lush Aggenstein in morning sun. On such a day, one could only expect its summit to flood with people; packed like sardines, sitting in each other's knees, tripping off the edge lemming-style. Here on this hidden and forgotten rock we'd at least be alone. For sure, in all of 2014 the wall had only 25 ascents recorded in the summit log book - very few for a Tannheim mountain indeed.
We had only just untangled the first rope, however, when another rope team arrived. Well alright, fair enough, they headed for the "Westkante" further away anyway so we wouldn't see or hear them. Then, as the second rope was being uncoiled, a small family appeared. How very nice a Friday family activity! I was truly happy for them and wished I could have done that in my youth… They settled for the route next to ours and were quickly on the go. As we ourselves, rather more tardily, began to actually focus on the climb, a whole group from the mountain rescue service of "somewhere-near-Stuttgart" appeared. All very agreeable fellows, well organized and soon even to prove helpful. But still, for a moment, we staggered at this unexpectedly social event. We racked up the rest silently and went to work.

It wasn't long until the next promise of the day was challenged: that relative notion of "easy". We had chosen "Henneleitr" as our first route. In the old Panico guide book (from 2000), it's graded 6 with the crux at the second pitch. Now, though, there is a new start much closer to the BMG-Weg. There is actually a topo at the wall for reference, but the information of the slightly upped difficulty of this new pitch seems to have eluded us all the same. Thus expecting a cozy 4, I would lead this pitch. Frustration silently grew as I needed not one, and not even two, but repeated attempts on the very first overhanging meters. Only later would we learn that it must have been a 6+, which is rather on the limit of our little "Plaisir" rope team and for my alpine lead psyche. Yet somehow I struggled up, believing that I had indeed lost quite a bit of power and guts over winter.

Further up (still on pitch 1 - don't get hasty now!) the terrain gets easier. One is supposed to traverse to the right. But with the lack of bolts as well as insight (!), I continued on straight up. Soon standing some felt 20 m above the last bolt, and with three questionable slings in between and all the gear used up except for a few slings, I felt the whole story getting a little more interesting...

In such a disagreeable situation one has two options. Either to down-climb those 20 meters, taking the gear out when passing (since it wasn't giving much confidence anyway). To down-climb without protection is uncomfortable, but clearly the sensible choice, since it's more or less known territory.
Or one can search around a little for any rock seems solid enough, and sling it to make stand. There now happened to be a little pinnacle nearby, just slightly cracked but not too small and giving a rigid enough feeling. I opted to try it, eventually hanged onto it and took up Markus.

As baffled as me by the apparent loss of strength over winter, Markus came up and had a look at the situation. He seemed unwilling to stop for tea at my stand, and all geared up anyway, he headed on almost at once. We had together spotted some bolts to our right. Very soon he had reached the first, and then the second. Above the third bolt the second crux section of the route started. He climbed past it, ready for the crux moves and to really go for it…

Sudden crash

Precisely then, with no warning and no clear reason, hell broke loose. That is, if hell is another name for my improvised stand. I didn't even notice falling in all the wild fury of splitting rocks scratching my legs. In one horrific moment I saw them rumble down towards the path below… if someone would walk there right now…! A second of silence. Nobody there, nobody hurt. Only now I remembered to look up. Markus was standing in good health nearly precisely where I had last seen him. Apparently - and very luckily - I had instinctively held on to his belay. If I hadn't, it would all have been very different… We had been very, very lucky. I managed to utter a rather agitated "I'm OK!", gradually becoming aware that all activity on the rock had stopped just for us.

Damage assessment. Nothing broken, nothing deep. Some blood running along my uncovered legs, hurting fingers, but all seemingly superficial. I was still by instinct hanging onto Markus through my belay biner, and realized I had to make a stand. From the new position on the wall a bolt was easily spotted only a couple of meters to the right. Traverse, clip in… safe. A member of the mountain rescue happened to be nearby – actually climbing the same route. He could spot the actual stand immediately below me. Thus I could easily abseil Markus, and he me, and the rescuers could soon even salvage the carabiner from which we abseiled. We were back on the sloping but steady ground in no-time. While Markus cared for food (assuming for some reason that we might now be done with the climbing and go have ourselves a nice picnic), I spent the next ten minutes picking tiny stones out from the deeper of the cuts and emptying our plaster supply. Better not get hurt anymore today!

Admittedly rather shaky, I still hoped for a slightly better ending. To stop now would be a great way to create fear. Plus, we were now almost at the start of the easiest route of the wall; the west ridge - so why not try that? Supposedly a 4+, it should be a dance.
We ought to have been a little more suspicious, seeing the restrained progress of a team above. And maybe we misinterpreted the guidebook, because the difficulties down at the start did feel rather on the hard side…! The start, an unprotected small-grip slab, turned out to be more in my favour than Markus'. Thus we switched lead and I was on it again.

Of course, I didn't quite feel like falling anymore. For every bolt I had two of my own pieces securely placed into cracks, often cleaning them behind me to avoid rope-drag and a runout later on. So the progress was now tentative, to put it mildly. But it was a steady progress nonetheless, on proper vertical quality rock (only in one place was there a necessary-tuft-of-grass-hold that "should" be part of "proper" Allgäu climbing). Finally, in the last section of the pitch the terrain eventually eased, and the stand was within guessing distance.

Actually, from here on it all went smooth! You know, as it properly should and always does in planning. First finding a nice and roomy stand on bolts – the luxury of taking off cramped and sweaty climbing shoes. Then Markus coming up, claiming the next two pitches for him to lead - sure, I'm done anyway! And upon this, cruising up the mostly easier (not well belayed, of course!) ridge the last two pitches to the summit cross.

We had festive picnic up top, skimmed through the uncrowded ascent logbook, and enjoyed the splendid view over Aggenstein and other nearby mountains. Only the ominous build-up of clouds quietly disturbed the peace. They urged us at last to put the two abseils behind us and trot down the way we came. Back to everyday life, safe and nearly sound. Accompanied by a couple of distant murmurs, but we were spared from further adventures this day.