mountain

10 of the best mountain huts in Europe: bunkrooms, bothies and bonhomie | Adventure travel

Cabaña Verónica, Spain

A good mountain hut, I reckon, should be small and only accessible on foot after considerable effort. Throw in a bit of historical interest and I’m bound to be happy. In which case, Cabaña Verónica in the Picos de Europa is a fine start to this list. It sleeps six, and at 2,325 metres requires a two-hour trek from the nearest cable car station, never mind road. It has incredible views and a friendly custodian who keeps things in good order. Yet the real attraction is that this place was formerly a gun turret of a US navy battleship that was scrapped in Bilbao in 1960. An enterprising engineer, Conrado Senties, had it carried up on horseback and reassembled on a plug of rock in the middle of nowhere. Don’t ask why, just enjoy the eccentricity.
€15, reservarefugios.com

Låktatjåkko, Sweden

Photograph: Wolfgang Kaehler/Alamy

An absolute gem just over 100 miles north of the Arctic Circle and 1,228 metres up a mountain, Låktatjåkko is well placed to deliver that other essential experience of a decent hut: cosy conviviality while surrounded by frequently hostile conditions. When I visited, it was hard to find the hut because it was coated in thick ice and half-buried in snow. The snug timber-clad lounge is the perfect spot to sit in front of the fire and read old accounts of Arctic explorers such as Fridtjof Nansen (there is no phone coverage). The kitchen bangs out endless plates of waffles with cloudberry jam and cream as well as more substantial fare. Be warned, however: in winter the chances of being marooned are quite high and the skiing can be a serious challenge due to extreme cold and fast-changing mountain weather.
From 515 Swedish kronor (£40), laktatjakko.se

Gaustatoppen, Norway

Photograph: Robert Harding/Alamy

Like many other huts belonging to the wonderful Norwegian Trekking Association, this place is small, well-run and traditional. It’s the route up to it that is astounding. You enter a mountainside, take a thundering old-school funicular railway one kilometre inside the granite, then wander through tunnels of military-grade concrete, before exiting through a blast-proof steel door and climbing down a short way to the hut. All that startling infrastructure is the cold war relic of a Nato communications station now doubling up as a museum and underground route to the hut, which dates back to 1893. This unique means of access gives the hut an advantage: you can stay in winter (weekends only) on the summit of the highest peak in Telemark province, Gaustatoppen, a popular ski resort, and then ski down. When I was there, the view was about 10 metres into thick mist. On a clear day, however, they say you can see one-sixth of Norway.
From 1,550 Norwegian kroner (£122), dnt.no

Chata pod Rysmi, Slovakia

Photograph: Vladimir Cuvala/Alamy

The Tatra mountains have some excellent huts, but this is my pick. Close enough to the summit of Rysy (2,501 metres) for an early start to catch dawn on the top, it is traditional, well-run and basic. The weather here can take a brutal turn at any time of year and, like all the best huts, this is in precisely the right position to be a genuine bolthole. If it looks younger than its 1933 start date, that is because it has been destroyed several times by avalanches and rock falls, which is also why it only opens 1 June to 31 October.
€65, chatapodrysmi.kst.sk

Kredarica on Triglav, Slovenia

Photograph: Mikadun/Shutterstock

This is, in many ways, a standard, old-fashioned mountain refuge, but Kredarica has the great advantage of being the last potential stop en route to the summit of Slovenia’s highest peak, Triglav (2,864 metres). Given that every Slovene feels compelled to visit the summit at least once in their lifetime, this can be a busy place in summer, especially as the views are magnificent. The hardcore, however, savour its spartan winter comforts, when the dormitories are unheated bunkholes for those about to tackle the final, rather tricky ascent to the top (ice axe and crampons essential).
€30 half-board, triglavskidom.si

Le Refuge de Ciottulu di Mori, Corsica


Photograph: Florian Neukirchen/Alamy

One of the attractions of Corsica’s epic GR20 long-distance footpath is its unapologetically old-fashioned mountain huts. No emergency helicopters swooping in when the G&Ts run out: this is gruff, mule-supplied, mountain hospitality. Ciottulu is a good example of the genre: bare bones dining room and a dormitory with communal sleeping benches for 26. Its ambience is more like a bothy set at 2,000 metres in a vast stony panorama with a slightly unpredictable caretaker.
€15, le-gr20.fr

Breiðuvik, Iceland

Photograph: Gestur Gislason/Alamy

The east of Iceland is home to a scattering of superb huts like this one. Breiðvik is actually on the coast and has the usual bunk rooms and well-appointed kitchen. The location is the big attraction: a wild, desolate coastline of volcanic sand beaches and abandoned villages. Together with 39 other locations, Brieðvik is part of a useful network run by the Icelandic Touring Association.
11,500 Icelandic kronur (£70), ferdaf.is

Scotland’s mountain bothies

Elphin Bothy in Sutherland. Photograph: Tom Richardson Scotland/Alamy

The UK has always remained aloof from the continental urge to build something cosy on a mountain top. We are much happier sitting inside our leaky waterproofs eating soggy sandwiches. The Mountain Bothy Association is doing a little to encourage us away from such Spartanism, but not too much. Most are former cottages for miners or shepherds; many now have a fireplace or even a wood burner. In some, there are a few supplies left on a shelf by previous guests. I have a soft spot for the hard charms of the least comfortable, where you may find only a stone bench and an open doorway. A few have become over-used and afflicted by visitors who don’t understand the ethos of mucking in, sharing out and cleaning up. For that reason, I’m not sure it’s worthwhile picking out any particular bothy (pictured is the Elphin Bothy in the Assynt region of Sutherland), suffice to say that the roster contains some absolute classics. Go and find them.
mountainbothies.org.uk

Rifugio Nuvolau, Italy

Photograph: Kevin Rushby/The Guardian

The Dolomites are so blessed with exceptional huts and Nuvolau is one of the best. Only accessible on foot, it was originally built in 1883 as a bequest from the Baron Richard von Meerheimb, the man who coined the term “psychodrama”, something he may have dreamed up while watching a Nuvolau sunset. The impeccable location is famous for its stunning shifts in light and colour. Inside is a dining room that serves excellent food, including a three-course dinner; upstairs is a small dormitory.
€51 B&B, rifugionuvolau.it

Rifugio Lagazuoi, Italy

Photograph: Frank Bienewald/Alamy

Many huts in the Dolomites have learned that economic survival is via tourists rather than hikers and climbers. Lagazuoi is one of them. Built as a climbers’ refuge, it has expanded over the years and been connected to the road by cable car, which enables coach parties to stay. And yet, it remains magnificent. The south-facing terrace is lovely and there are fantastic walks all around, not least through the tunnels and terraces of the first world war frontline that lie on the cliff face below. Mount Lagazuoi (2,835 metres) was one location where the Austro-Hungarian empire faced off against Italians. Many years later, in 1965, Ugo Pompanin, a local Alpine guide and rock-climbing pioneer, recognised the potential and built the first hut, which, several additions later, is still run in great style by his son Guido.
From €85 with breakfast, rifugiolagazuoi.com

Source link

‘Like a Bond villain’s lair’: I climbed the Dolomites to the world’s most spectacular mountain hut | Dolomites holidays

‘I think my boots are falling apart!” shouts Nigel just as we hit the pinnacles, a whole range of them jutting up and out from the mountainside, all thrillingly tall, spiky and knobbled. Through them we painstakingly step, fingers aching in gloves, heads sweating in helmets – squashing up narrow chimneys, squeezing through mighty boulders and inching along slender ledges on a twisting path that’s only just discernible through swathes of sharp white scree.

I know how Nigel’s boots are feeling: the going is far harder than I was expecting. This is only the first day of our annual trip to the Dolomites, a vast range of breathtaking sawtooth peaks in northern Italy, but my head’s already full of the thought I have every year as we start out: “If only you’d got fitter.”

But it should be worth all the scrapes, bumps, scares and sweat. Somewhere up ahead, hopefully not too far, is Rifugio Passo Santner, or Santnerpass Hut, a spectacular mountain refuge that, as everyone who sits near my desk at work knows, has been obsessing me ever since I first saw a picture of it eight months ago.

Allowing you to stay deep in the mountains for days on end, the high-altitude Dolomites huts we overnight at all have their charms, from hearty food to giddying views to a generous way with the grappa. But in terms of appearance, they tend to fall into two not particularly pulse-quickening camps: stone block or cuckoo clock. Although you’re almost always overjoyed to see them, none could ever pass for a Bond villain’s lair, however much grappa you’ve had.

Yet that is exactly what Santnerpass Hut resembles. Perched on top of a sheer cliff, this elongated triangle encased in a gleaming wrapper of galvanised steel looks like a giant Toblerone still in its foil – an eyepopping hit of modernity, originality and innovation in a place where tradition usually dictates more of the same.

After one final push, the five of us scramble up on to the summit and there it is just ahead, side on and glowing silver in the late afternoon sun, like a star that has touched down on Earth to enjoy the stunning views of the surrounding peaks with the rest of us, up at the bracing height of 2,734m.

“Welcome!” says the bartender as we enter. “You made it. Well done!” With the customary relief – if not actual jubilation – that follows a tough climb finally ending, we ease off our backpacks, gloves and boots then look around, slowly realising that Santnerpass Hut isn’t just a treat for the eyes from the outside.

Inside, what you first notice is the unbroken parade of huge windows wrapping around the refuge’s front and flanks. This doesn’t just turn every spot of the roomy ground floor into a light-filled observation point. It also means the hut achieves passive heating since it’s effectively one big solar collector. So there’s no need for log-devouring stoves. That’s quite an achievement at ground level; at more than 2km up, with no road access, it’s verging on miraculous.

‘Santnerpass Hut was built in 1956 but was taken over, closed and rebuilt, finally opening to the eager climbing public in the summer of 2023.’ Photograph: Andrew Gilchrist

Then there’s the wood. It’s blond and everywhere. Guests are basically cocooned within a spellbinding timber tapestry that casts everything in a warm yellow glow, quite a novelty to anyone used to the dingy two-watt corridors and bedrooms of most refuges.

The flooring is larch, the restaurant furnishings maple and the load-bearing A-frame spruce, its hefty angular joists exposed on the sundeck, where we soon find ourselves sinking well-earned ice-cold drinks and marvelling at this beacon of sustainable architecture.

There are other things to marvel at. Off in the distance, piercing up through an immense blanket of cloud, the lofty peaks of the Latemar group are catching the last rays of the sun, turning pink, orange and purple in a ravishing Dolomites phenomenon known as the enrosadira, triggered by calcium and magnesium in the rock. “This place is incredible,” says Donnie, sipping an Aperol spritz. “I’ve never been anywhere like it in my life.”

Santnerpass Hut was built in 1956 but in the last decade or so was taken over, closed and rebuilt, finally opening its generous glass doors in 2023. Designed by alpine specialists Senoner Tammerle Architects, the new refuge is not just meant to please the eye: the shape lets it shed thick snow and deflect howling winds.

There are more surprises when we take our pre-dinner showers. Not only does the wood here give way to zesty yellow laminated panels that wouldn’t look out of place in a chic nightclub, the showerheads also actually stay pointing at your body for the full three minutes of hot water a token gets you.

Dinner, however, may have been the biggest surprise of all. It was completely vegetarian – a shock for all of us and a treat for veggies Sam and Nigel. No goulash, no ragu, no pork chops. Instead, out of the kitchen came herb-sprinkled lentils with asparagus, radish and onion, pea and mint soup, then beetroot dumplings on a rich bean, tomato and yellow pepper broth, washed down with superb local wine in actual wine glasses and finished off with creme brulee.

“A delicious and nutritious meal,” said Sam, running his spoon round his plate. “What an eye-opener. A win-win for hiker and planet.”

Curfew was at 10pm but the restaurant was clearing out anyway. This may have been due to the fact that, in high spirits after our action-packed day, we had taken the hut’s guitar off the wall and treated everyone to that Proclaimers Alpine classic Sunshine on Leith, managing to get a singalong going with the very up-for-it, very international audience.

‘Made it’ … the writer on the summit, nearing the refuge. Photograph: Donald Livingstone

The refuge sleeps 4o in 16 rooms. Ours was a spacious affair with bunkbeds, a dainty dormer window and two large cubbyholes each, one for your bag, the other for your stuff – so much more useful than the usual pointless wardrobes and drawers that no one ever unpacks into, since you’ll be gone in a hurry at the crack of dawn.

We reached Santnerpass Hut via the König Laurin cable car, 22 miles (35km) from Bolzano, gateway to the Dolomites. After that, it’s a rising, fairly straight line to the refuge, a two-to-three-hour hike through loose scree, then boulders and pinnacles. But be warned: the last section is a via ferrata, meaning there’s a metal cable for you to clip your harness to, and grab hold of as you reach trickier, more treacherous passages. It’s not for beginners.

I’d heard, though, that there was another route and, keen to take it back down to the cable car, asked at reception. “Yes, there’s another way,” said Romina Huber, who co-owns and runs the hut with her husband (and chef) Michel Perathoner. “It’s not a via ferrata and it’s super beautiful.”

She wasn’t kidding. First it took us past the Vajolet towers, dramatic spires that lure climbers from all over the world. Then we swung right on to a winding path of fine white scree that rises sharply through meadows full of edelweiss, saxifrage, dwarf pine and boulders, leading to bulging cliffs and eventually the Coronelle Pass, an astonishing vantage point at 2,360m.

“Well, that was a walk and a half,” said Mac as we descended in the cable car 30 minutes later, exhausted after the final knee-popping trudge down from the pass on timber-pinned switchbacks. “My boots,” said Nigel, lifting his feet to let us see a rip in one and a sole flapping off the other, “have completely had it.”

Santnerpass Hut starts at €105pp per night, including breakfast and four-course vegetarian dinner

Hutiquette: the mountain hut code

Mountain huts may occasionally be rather luxurious these days, but their original function, still relevant, is survival. There are, as you might expect, several very sensible codes that make great use of words like “respect”, “other users”, and “environment”. My own code is no less worthy and comes from hard-won experience.

No complaining
Huts are not hotels. If there’s a problem, go sort it out. Certainly, never complain about snoring, even when you are convinced it is about to trigger an avalanche. I once did, only to be informed, rather too forcefully, that is was me doing the snoring, an outrageous lie that triggered grunts of approval from other grumpy insomniacs. Gel ear plugs work well.

Share
It’s sometimes hard to drop the urban habit of self-assertion to ensure survival. One night in a Corsican hut with a shared sleeping platform, an obnoxious Brit in a down bag shoved all the other sleepers into a pile at one end of the bench, claiming later that he was “dreaming of being pushed”. I pray never to run into him again.

Clean up after yourself
… and take your rubbish home. The British Mountain Bothy Code has a good reminder on this point. I’d go even further and say, try to leave absolutely no trace at all. Visiting one treasured wild swimming spot recently, I found the scorch mark of a campfire. Whoever it was had not left any rubbish, and there was nothing to mark their visit, except that dreaded black spot, as if Blind Pew had delivered a death sentence.

The hut is for everyone
I once cycled to a remote Icelandic hut and found it blissfully empty of people. Lighting the fire, I prepared my simple meal, and apart from wishing I had packed a beer, looked forward to a night of splendid isolation. Then a large group of locals arrived. I felt my heart sink. My solitary bliss was gone. They sat down, gave me a beer, and two hours later, after helping to eat their huge delicious feast, I felt like I’d joined a tribe. When a hut generates that kind of gang conviviality, it’s uplifting.

Look after others
In Scandinavia, this is a social habit that is deeply embedded. You turn up in a hut in winter and there are logs because the last visitors left them for you. You cut your finger and they all have the plaster that you forgot to bring. The Norwegian Mountain Code has a list of essential reminders.
Kevin Rushby

Source link

Work At Underground Test Site A New Indicator Of Possible Strikes On Iran’s Pickaxe Mountain Bunker

Work at a specialized underground weapons test site in New Mexico, contracted earlier this year, was linked to planning for a potential new operation targeting Iranian nuclear facilities, according to a report from CNN. The U.S. military has notably left Iran’s hardest-to-reach site under Pickaxe Mountain untouched so far, but President Donald Trump and other U.S. officials have been openly talking about striking it.

On February 27, the day before U.S. and Israeli forces launched their initial wave of strikes on Iran, the Pentagon’s Defense Threat Reduction Agency (DTRA) quietly announced it had awarded a sole-source deal to Pate Construction Co., Inc., for new construction at the so-called Alternate Seismic Hardrock in Situ Test (ALT-SHIST) site. The work was needed to support an upcoming classified live-fire test. ALT-SHIST is situated within the White Sands Missile Range (WSMR), a sprawling U.S. Army-managed complex in New Mexico’s Jornada del Muerto desert basin. DTRA is a relatively small and obscure organization that plays a leading role in U.S. military efforts to develop new and improved ways to respond to Weapons of Mass Destruction (WMD) threats.

WSMR and DTRA have come up in discussions about strikes on Iran in the past. The U.S. military’s heaviest conventional air-dropped weapon, the 30,000-pound-class GBU-57/B Massive Ordnance Penetrator (MOP) bunker buster bomb, has been extensively tested at multiple sites there in the past. DTRA was also directly involved in its initial development. MOPs made their combat debut during U.S. strikes last year on underground Iranian nuclear facilities at Fordow and Natanz as part of Operation Midnight Hammer. The possibility has been raised that a different site within WSMR may have been used to test the plan of attack against Fordow, which involved two ventilation shafts being hit with six GBU-57/Bs each. The bombs were dropped in rapid succession, with each one burrowing deeper and deeper into the facility below. WSMR also happens to contain the site of the first atomic bomb test in 1945.

A map showing the general location of White Sands Missile Range, with an inset giving a better sense of how expansive it is. Holloman Air Force Base, which juts into the southern end of the range complex, is also highlighted. Google Maps

“The plans for the test [at ALT-SHIST] were connected to the Iran war,” CNN said in its story, published yesterday, citing unnamed sources “familiar with the matter.” Beyond that, the planned testing was tied to a “need to develop a way to target Iran’s deepest-buried underground facilities and, likely, simulate U.S. strikes against specific nuclear facilities.”

CNN said it was unable to independently verify whether or not the test in question had occurred.

A formal justification for the sole-source contract to Pate Construction that DTRA released in February did not mention Iran or elaborate on the need for the new testing at ALT-SHIST, but stressed there was an urgent requirement critical to U.S. national security.

“The services required are the immediate and mission-critical enabling services for a ‘real-world’ national security ordinance [sic; ordnance] test. This is not routine construction; it is the highly specialized remediation and operational preparation of a unique, subterranean test facility at White Sands Missile Range (WSMR),” according to the justification document, which DTRA officials had approved on February 24. “The work is a critical path dependency for a live-fire test designed to validate classified capabilities against rapidly emerging threats.”

“As the incumbent contractor for over a decade, Pate Construction Co., Inc. possesses unparalleled and non-transferable tacit knowledge of this specific subterranean test facility. This is a unique Government structure with complex geological and security considerations, and Pate Construction Co., Inc.’s direct, hands-on experience is a tangible asset that no other source possesses,” the document adds. “Pate Construction Co., Inc. is the only contractor that
currently maintains a fully mobilized presence at WSMR with the specific heavy equipment and security-cleared operators required.”

CNN‘s piece says apparent work at ALT-SHIST was visible in satellite imagery of the site between mid-February and mid-March, but the outlet said it was unable to confirm whether or not this was related to the contract with Pate Construction.

ALT-SHIST is an active test site, and any work observed there earlier this year could well have been linked to other projects. For instance, additional publicly available DTRA contracting documents offer details about planned work on a specific part of the ALT-SHIST site, called Tunnel 7, tracing back to last year, as part of a project nicknamed Millstone Willemite 6 (MW-6).

“This task requires the construction contractor to repair and address the damage to Tunnel 7 caused by prior incidents, in accordance with government-provided designs, specifications, and other contract documents,” according to one contracting document dated September 15, 2025. “The contractor will also be responsible for providing support during testing activities, as well as safing after each test and general support between tests. All tunnel construction must be completed by 15 June 2027.”

“The contractor shall repair a D-shape tunnel and overburden using the D-shape of 20 feet depth and width, inside the tunnel. The contractor shall remove and repair any damage to the ribs, crown, and invert to Tunnel 7,” that same document continues. “After the repair of Tunnel 7, the contractor shall provide general construction support to instrument the tunnel in preparation for testing and then safe the tunnel for re-entry post-testing.”

The schedule for the MW-6-related work indicates that it is separate from what Pate Construction was hired to do at the site back in February.

A view out into a mountainous part of the White Sands Missile Range complex. USACE

ALT-SHIST, which was first established in 1995, is also not the only site DTRA makes use of within WSMR. As its name indicates, it is an alternate to the original SHIST site, use of which began in 1993.

“There was a small addition made to the SHIST site, but that area has been heavily used since 2007,” according to an environmental impact study the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers (USACE) completed in 2015. “The granite bedrock at these sites has been fractured and damaged by extensive testing. There are no existing granite areas adjacent to those sites where similar testing can be performed.”

A map showing the relative locations of SHIST and ALT-SHIST, as well as other test sites, at the northern end of the WSMR complex. USACE

USACE conducted that study in support of the establishment of a new test site at WSMR, simply called the Granite Test Site, to succeed the original SHIST. The Granite Test Site is now in use. There are many more sites within the range complex designed to simulate underground and otherwise hardened targets. This is also just one aspect of the wide array of testing that occurs on a daily basis at WSMR.

However, the presence of large areas of undisturbed granite is a key factor here, as that is particularly relevant for testing weapons designed to penetrate into extremely deeply buried facilities. CNN‘s piece yesterday noted that Iran’s Pickaxe Mountain site is built underneath a granite mountain.

“The mountain in White Sands, they specifically picked mountainous areas that were solid rock, and they used state-of-the-art tunneling technology to make the kind of cavities in the mountain that you would put this kind of [Iranian nuclear] facility in,” Gary Stradling, a retired scientist who previously worked for the Department of Energy’s Los Alamos National Laboratory (LANL), told TWZ in an interview last year. “I think that there is a lot of work that DOD has done in these kinds of facilities that is highly classified, and I couldn’t talk to you about it. This is very sophisticated work. It is not casual, and it’s not speculative. These are real experts who are doing the work. Careful, technical, quantitative work to be able to deliver this kind of war-fighting capability to the services.”

TWZ spoke to Stradling, who did work tied to earth-penetrating munitions at various points during his lengthy career, in the wake of Operation Midnight Hammer.

GBU-57 MOP test thumbnail

GBU-57 MOP test




The U.S. military notably did not strike Pickaxe Mountain, which is situated immediately to the southwest of Iran’s nuclear facility at Natanz, during Operation Midnight Hammer. The site also went untouched by Israel during last year’s 12 Day War. American and Israeli forces did not target it during major combat operations earlier this year, either. All of this underscores the targeting challenge the site presents, even for strikes using MOPs, which TWZ explored in detail earlier this year and that has continued to make it a point of particular discussion.

A satellite image taken on August 21, 2026, showing activity around tunnel entrances at Iran’s Pickaxe Mountain site. Satellite image ©2026 Vantor

CNN‘s report yesterday was primarily focused on a new assessment of ongoing construction at Pickaxe Mountain from the Center for Strategic and International Studies (CSIS) think tank in Washington, D.C.

Satellite “images reveal more road activity at Pickaxe Mountain in 2026 than at any point in the site’s history,” according to a report CSIS published yesterday. “There is a clear surge in construction activity in 2026 that corresponds to the raising and hardening of the portal accesses, paving of the internal road network, reinforcement around access areas, and the flattening and removal of excavation spoil.”

“This assessment can neither refute nor substantiate the Israeli intelligence claim that Iran moved centrifuges into Pickaxe Mountain,” CSIS’s report also noted. “The continuous construction, the absence of an increased internal security posture, and the lack of observed nonconstruction vehicles and equipment suggest the underground facility is not yet capable of enrichment work, if that is the intended purpose. Further analysis of daily activity would be needed to establish the site’s pattern of life beyond its current construction footprint.”

A broader overview of Pickaxe Mountain, as well as Iran’s nuclear site at Natanz, seen at the upper right corner, as of August 21, 2026. Satellite image ©2026 Vantor

This is in line with TWZ‘s own previous reporting on Pickaxe Mountain back in July, when there were already signs of growing activity following the establishment of a shaky ceasefire between the United States and Iran the preceding month. As we wrote at that time:

“As with the strikes on Fordow, multiple bombs could be dropped on the same impact point to try to penetrate further down into Pickaxe Mountain. Whether there might be similar ventilation shafts or other weak points that could be exploited at Pickaxe Mountain is unknown. …”

A graphic with details about the employment of MOPs on strikes at Fordow during Operation Midnight Hammer. DOD

“A strike ‘right in the front door’ on the tunnel entrances at Pickaxe Mountain would be another option to at least hamper access to the facility inside for a time. This could be combined with strikes aimed at sections of the tunnel networks that run deeper inside the facility, but that are still close enough to the surface to be reachable by available conventional munitions. For instance, MOPs may not be able to hit the main cavern areas, but they could possibly hit certain tunnels that might lead to them.”

“Even a combined strike on entrances and shallow tunnels at Pickaxe Mountain could still present certain challenges. Firm intelligence on exactly where the tunnels snake under the mountain could be limited, making it difficult to select the best impact points. This is exactly why the U.S. military has been investing heavily in advanced, void-sensing fuzes for MOP and other bunker buster bombs for decades now. These fuzes detect when a munition has penetrated into a sufficiently large space, such as a room or tunnel in an underground facility, to help maximize damage. Fuzes that can effectively ‘count’ floors also help to ensure the munition has burrowed sufficiently deep before detonating.”

…

“…the U.S. military could conduct follow-on strikes on the entry points at Pickaxe Mountain to disrupt any attempt to regain access, as well.”

“Destroying Pickaxe Mountain will be a scientific and targeting challenge,” CSIS also noted in its report yesterday. “It is an underground fortress buttressed by granite. It is one of the only facilities in Iran’s nuclear program that the United States has not yet struck. Structurally degrading Pickaxe Mountain requires more than just kinetic force – it takes actionable high-confidence intelligence and sophisticated mathematical modeling.”

With all this in mind, it is not at all hard to imagine how new testing at ALT-SHIST, as well as other sites, would be essential for exploring additional options for striking Pickaxe Mountain and/or other deeply-buried targets in Iran using MOPs and/or other munitions.

A US Air Force B-2 bomber drops a GBU-57/B MOP during a test. USAF

It’s also worth noting here that GBU-57/Bs are understood to be in relatively short supply, though it is unknown how many of them are currently in inventory. Furthermore, the U.S. Air Force’s B-2 Spirit bombers are currently the only aircraft certified to employ the huge MOPs operationally. There was a report in 2024 that prime contractor Boeing was working to expand its capacity to produce these bombs. A MOP successor, the GBU-76/B Next Generation Penetrator (NGP), is in development now, but prototyping work is expected to run through the end of Fiscal Year 2028.

President Donald Trump certainly has raised the prospect of a strike on Pickaxe Mountain publicly on several occasions since July. He has also repeatedly said that the site is being persistently surveilled, particularly from space.

“There’s another place called Pickaxe Mountain, another nice place. We may have to give them a shot there, too, because someone said there was a little movement at the site,” Trump said yesterday during a speech at a convention the Republican Party is hosting in Dallas, Texas, ahead of this year’s midterm elections. “We don’t need much. We see everything, you know, because of Space Force.”

“We may hit Pickaxe [Mountain] very soon,” the President also said while speaking to reporters at the White House last Friday.

Whether growing activity at Pickaxe Mountain finally prompts a U.S. strike at the site, either alone or as part of a larger operation, remains to be seen. If and when such a mission is launched, past and future testing at sites like ALT-SHIST in New Mexico will all but certainly have played an important part.

Contact the author: joe@twz.com

Joseph is TWZ’s Deputy Editor, helping to oversee the site’s highly experienced and dedicated team, while also writing informative and impactful defense and national security content. He lives right in the thick of it in the Washington, D.C. area.




Source link