Supplementary Defence of the Article: “The Wechsel Region’s Geology, Mythology, and the Origins of Meat Curing, Survival and Spirituality in Glacial Landscapes”

By Eben van Tonder, 21 June 25

By Eben van Tonder (with supplementary perspectives by Christa Berger)

Introduction

In my original article on the Wechsel region’s role in the genesis of meat curing, titled “The Wechsel Region’s Geology, Mythology, and the Origins of Meat Curing: Survival and Spirituality in Glacial Landscapes”, I laid out the argument that this region of Austria, shaped by glacial pressures and enriched by mineral deposits, served not only as a haven for ancient survival but also as an incubator for technological and spiritual development linked to food preservation. The basis of this assertion lay in the intersection of geological evidence, climatic exigencies, and mythological memory. The supplementary data and cultural memory provided by Christa Berger significantly strengthen this thesis and compel us to reconsider the long arc of human innovation not as beginning in classical antiquity, but as embedded in the prehistoric, and still largely unexplored, depths of Central Europe.

1. Long-Term Settlement Implied by Subterranean Infrastructure

One central critique occasionally levied against theories proposing prehistoric innovation in meat curing and related technologies is that they underestimate the mobility and fragility of early human communities. Yet, the archaeological record in and around the Wechsel and Joglland region tells a very different story, one not of nomadic fragility, but of sustained, multi-generational settlement, made possible by both environmental richness and advanced planning.

The evidence for this is stark: the Erdställe, extensive, man-made subterranean tunnel systems, dated to 10,000–12,000 BCE. Their construction reflects considerable effort, logistical coherence, and architectural understanding. It is simply inconceivable that these structures were created for short-term use. Rather, they imply a society embedded in place, concerned with continuity, safety, and ritual. The correlation with Göbekli Tepe in Anatolia is not only chronological but also ideological: both are expressions of a monumental culture with capacities that defy the tired image of “primitive” early humans.

We ask if these are evidence of complex societies that build in stone, coordinate efforts across generations, and possibly invest in a subterranean escape or storage network, possibly also addressing the perennial problem of seasonal scarcity. The curing of meat, especially through the use of salt and mineral-laden clays (of which this region abounds), seen in this context, could have been not just a necessity but a ritualised act of continuity.

2. The Integration of Geology, Shelter, and Salt

The original article, The Wechsel Region’s Geology, Mythology, and the Origins of Meat Curing: Survival and Spirituality in Glacial Landscapes, placed special emphasis on the region’s geology, not only as a passive backdrop but as an active player in human technological advancement. Christa Berger’s commentary affirms this: the corbelled vaults, prepared slabs, and dry stone passages all point to an intimate understanding of geology not unlike that required to identify salt deposits, build brine wells, or harness smoke for curing.

While the primary function of Erdställe remains a matter of debate, it is likely that many of these tunnel systems served more than one purpose beyond mere escape routes. Their cool, stable microclimate would have been well suited for storing food, fermenting products, or even hanging meat, particularly in regions where seasonal extremes made above-ground preservation difficult. Although no direct archaeological evidence confirms these specific uses, the physical conditions certainly allow for such hypotheses.

Christa’s family memories, stories of hidden passages beneath farms, concealed tunnels integrated into domestic architecture, and escape routes known only to elders, suggest a persistent cultural memory in which survival, food preservation, and spiritual awareness were deeply connected to the landscape. These narratives may represent an unbroken folk lineage reflecting how people once engaged with the geological character of their land, not only for protection, but also for sustaining life.

3. Erdställe and Wichtellöcher: Folklore, Myth, and Possible Use in Traditional Meat Curing in Austria

Hidden beneath the hills and forests of Austria, particularly in Styria, Lower Austria, and Bavaria, lies a network of enigmatic underground passageways known as Erdställe. These ancient tunnel systems, mostly less than a meter high and often accessible only through narrow crawlspaces, have baffled archaeologists, historians, and folklorists for centuries. Alongside these tunnels are smaller, frequently overlooked niches and holes, known in regional dialects as Wichtellöcher (goblin holes), which are sometimes speculated to be connected to the larger Erdstall networks.

Let us first explore the Erdställe and their folkloric associations with the supernatural, their historical interpretations, and the possibility that some of the larger chambers may have been adapted for practical uses such as meat curing.

The Mystery of the Erdstall

Erdställe (singular: Erdstall) are narrow, labyrinthine tunnel systems dug into loess, marl, or soft rock, generally dating from the early medieval period. Most scholars now believe they were constructed between the 10th and 13th centuries, though precise dating remains difficult due to the absence of diagnostic artefacts (Mandl 1998; Pucher 2003).

These tunnels typically include features such as:

Schlupflöcher (squeeze holes): narrow openings often less than 40 cm in diameter, forcing the individual to crawl or slide between compartments.

Nischen (niches): small alcoves along the walls, sometimes interpreted as oil lamp holders or symbolic features.

Kammern (chambers): slightly wider rooms, occasionally large enough to crouch or sit.

The tunnels do not connect settlements, mines, or storage areas. They appear ill-suited for long-term habitation or conventional storage, as they lack ventilation and water sources. Nevertheless, there are a few documented examples of larger chambers. For instance, the Erdstall system at Oberrabnitz (Burgenland) includes a chamber where an adult can sit upright comfortably, while the site at Puch in Styria contains a room approximately 2 meters wide, suggesting intentional enlargement. These spaces remain rare, but their existence challenges the view that all Erdställe were strictly symbolic or ritualistic in use.

Folklore and Ethnographic Accounts

Austrian and Bavarian folklore is rich in interpretations of the Erdställe. Local legends speak of underground beings such as Wichtel, Zwerge (dwarves), or Erdmännlein (little earth men) who were said to inhabit these hidden tunnels.

An oral tradition from the Mühlviertel region, recorded in the 19th century, describes the tunnels as escape routes for monks or as places where treasures were hidden during times of invasion (Wastl 1877). Another tradition from Styria identifies them as homes for Heinzelmännchen, helpful subterranean spirits who only appeared at night (Pachler 1909).

The term Wichtellöcher often refers to smaller holes near the entrance of the tunnels or shallow caves near rock outcrops, sometimes connected to children’s tales about goblins and treasure-guarding spirits. These are often found within a few metres of Erdstall openings and may have served as ventilation shafts or symbolic entrances.

Practical Theories and Meat Curing Hypotheses

Though the spiritual and defensive theories remain dominant, some scholars and ethnographers have considered whether these chambers were ever adapted for more practical use.

In his Volkskundliche Studien zur Nutzung unterirdischer Räume, Franz Seiser (1995) notes that certain Erdstall chambers in Lower Austria exhibit soot stains on ceilings and smoothed surfaces that could indicate human activity involving smoke or fire, possibly for ritual purposes, but potentially linked to food preparation or curing.

Meat curing requires cool, consistent temperatures and stable humidity, which some Erdstall chambers may have provided. Importantly, meat curing does not require full carcasses to be suspended. Cuts of meat, sausages, or organ meats may have been hung or laid across racks in tight spaces. In traditional Alpine farmhouses, basements and naturally cooled earth cellars were often used to cure Speck, hams, and sausages. Given that many Erdställe are adjacent to historic farmsteads, the hypothesis arises: could some chambers have been opportunistically used for meat preservation?

This remains speculative. Most chambers are too small or awkwardly shaped for substantial storage, and access is typically difficult. Yet, where natural widenings occur or where post-medieval enlargements were made, their cool, subterranean environment would have mimicked conditions of known Rauchkuchl or Speckkammerln. The absence of archaeological remains may reflect organic material’s poor survival underground. No known site has yielded hooks, meat residues, or brining vessels, yet oral traditions from parts of Lower Austria and Burgenland speak of “kühle Erdstellen” (cool earthen places) used in emergencies or during times of shortage. It is almost unthinkable that it was not used as such!

Ethnographic Echoes: Rituals, Fear, and Sacred Uses

Several Austrian ethnographic works allude to the psychological and ritual significance of the Erdställe. In Styria, some local residents recall being warned not to enter the tunnels as children, with threats that Wichtel would pull them underground forever. Others mention that local monks once entered them as acts of penance (Wolfsgruber 1924).

The ritual use of underground spaces has historical precedent. In pre-Christian Alpine traditions, caves and rock shelters were often associated with the underworld, fertility, and rites of transition. The Erdställe, though of later origin, may have inherited such associations, especially given their constricting forms, echoing womb-like passageways.

Connection Between Wichtellöcher and Erdställe

While the terms refer to different structures, Wichtellöcher being smaller, more folkloric holes, and Erdställe more complex tunnel systems, there is some evidence that they were symbolically or physically linked. Seiser (1995) and Mandl (2002) suggest that small openings may have served as spiritual thresholds or ‘liminal zones’ where offerings were left or where communication with the underworld took place. In a few cases, these holes appear adjacent to larger tunnels, hinting at architectural or cultural connections.

Contemporary Significance and Research

Modern archaeological efforts, such as the work by the Austrian Society for Subterranean Research (Österreichische Gesellschaft für Höhlenkunde), continue to map and document these sites. Few are open to the public due to safety and conservation concerns.

Yet their legacy endures. Writers like Kurt Derungs have proposed geomantic interpretations, while local historians continue to gather oral histories. In parallel, food historians are beginning to explore whether some of these underground spaces played a minor role in traditional preservation methods, especially in communities lacking formal cellars.

Oral Tradition as Evidence of Functional Continuity

The dominant academic paradigm often dismisses oral tradition as secondary to the archaeological record. However, in regions such as Joglland, Wechselgebiet, and the Vorau Basin, oral narratives form a parallel stream of evidence. One of the most vivid traditions concerns the alleged tunnel system from Masenberg to the Hochwechsel. According to multiple 19th- and early 20th-century accounts preserved in the parish chronicles of Vorau and Pinggau, shepherd boys once discovered a hollow space in the mountain that led to a luminous underground lake said to contain “treasures of silver that glisten like salt” (Pfarrarchiv Vorau, 1897).

Another example from Miesenbach tells of families who, during the Ottoman raids of the late 17th century, took refuge in hillside caves and shallow tunnel openings now believed by locals to be extensions of the Erdstall system (see Krutzler 1963). The oral memory claims that women and children hid for days with stored bacon, grain, and water in these “Schlupflöcher,” surfacing only at night. Though unverifiable by archaeological means, the precise location of these hiding spots is passed down within families, with landmarks such as “die Windluckn” (the windy hollow) or “unter dem Kapellenstein” still identified today.

Stories from Strallegg and Puchegg, recorded by folklorist Hedwig Hödl (1912), reference underground chambers where candlelight was seen flickering from beneath tree roots, leading to beliefs that “the earth protects the poor but hides the proud.” In these tales, light is not only a mystical symbol but may also reflect real phenomena like salt crystals or flickers from tallow lamps.

The recurrence of imagery involving treasure, light, and hidden sustenance suggests a layered memory in which geological utility (salt, shelter, preservation) became encoded as myth. These mythologised memories, while stylised through time, often preserve more than fantasy—they are echoes of practices that enabled survival. In such narratives, what allowed you to survive became sacred, even magical.

4. Technological Resonance with Meat Preservation

While Prof. Heinrich Kusch’s later theories—concerning teleportation and alien-like figurines—invite controversy, we need not accept these claims wholesale in order to acknowledge the strength of his early work. Kusch’s documentation of over 1,000 archaeological sites, his mapping of Erdställe, and his geological assessments all reinforce the core assertion: this was a region of enduring occupation, sophisticated earthworks, and likely—given the stable underground climate—food storage and preservation practices.

Moreover, the specificity of regional structures—horizontal and vertical shafts, seating niches, light apertures—are entirely compatible with the hypothesis that these spaces were used not only for refuge but for productive activity, including curing, fermenting, or mineral extraction. Such multi-use designs are hallmarks of early efficiency, not unlike the multifunctional smokehouses of later Alpine and Slavic traditions.

5. The Spiritual Layer: From Survival to Sacrament

Finally, the article’s most radical thesis—that survival techniques like meat curing were gradually ritualised, eventually becoming sacramental in Christian monastic life—is supported rather than weakened by this broader historical canvas. Christa’s commentary about how subterranean spaces were incorporated into medieval and modern architecture shows precisely this continuity. The tunnels beneath churches and monasteries are not merely symbolic—they are historical. They link Bronze Age survival to Benedictine discipline, the sacred geometry of ecclesiastical architecture to the geometry of survival tunnels.

Indeed, one might propose that the monastic curing of hams and bacons—their selection of locations rich in mineral soils and cool climates—is a continuation, not a reinvention. The early Christian monks who arrived in these regions would have discovered not wilderness, but an already storied landscape, rich with forgotten technologies that could be baptised into new spiritual systems.

Conclusion

The integration of Christa Berger’s insights with the geological, archaeological, and mythological framework presented in the original article forms a compelling defence of the Wechsel region as a crucible of early technological and spiritual development. These were not scattered, nomadic bands eking out survival, but rooted communities who knew their land, mastered its minerals, and passed on sacred knowledge across millennia—through stone, through smoke, and through salt.

In the end, it is not extraordinary to believe that the curing of meat began in such places. What is extraordinary is how long we have overlooked them.

To accompany this supplementary article, readers are encouraged to visit the page of Christa Berger’s source network: SubTerra Vorau on Facebook, where a wealth of visual documentation and community recollections await further exploration.

Supplementary Section: Smoke Pits and Functional Integration in Upper Paleolithic Hearth Complexes

I. Introduction: Discovery, Context, the Cro-Magnon People, and the Hearth System

At the archaeological site of Krems-Wachtberg in Lower Austria, a remarkable hearth complex dating back to the Gravettian period (ca. 31,000–24,000 BCE) has shed new light on the technological and cognitive capacities of Cro-Magnon humans. This period coincides with the cold maximum of the Weichselian glaciation, demanding innovative strategies for food preservation and survival. The site gained particular attention following the discovery of a twin infant burial—covered with ochre and grave goods—demonstrating not only emotional sophistication but also a highly structured social life. Nearby, archaeologists uncovered a hearth structure measuring 1.5 meters in diameter, surrounded by at least three notable pits: Pit 3, Pit 6, and Pit 7.

The Cro-Magnon people, a population of early modern humans (Homo sapiens sapiens), lived in Europe during the Upper Paleolithic period. They are often considered the direct ancestors of many present-day Europeans. Anatomically, Cro-Magnons were similar to modern humans but exhibited certain robust features: broader faces, more pronounced brow ridges, larger teeth, and greater muscular strength. Their brain size averaged even slightly larger than that of modern humans, and they demonstrated remarkable capabilities in art, toolmaking, symbolic communication, and social organization. The Gravettian culture, to which they belonged during this phase of European prehistory, is characterized by advanced lithic technologies, complex burial practices, and wide-ranging trade networks that extended hundreds of kilometres. Cro-Magnons were hunter-gatherers who adapted to harsh glacial climates with ingenuity, developing strategies that ensured long-term survival in environments of extreme scarcity and seasonal unpredictability.

At the heart of these survival strategies was the use of hearth systems. A hearth system, in archaeological terms, refers to a designated area used repeatedly for fire-making, cooking, and associated domestic activities. These systems often include a fire pit or ash-filled depression surrounded by related features such as storage pits, postholes, tool discard zones, and working floors. In some cases—such as at Krems-Wachtberg—hearth systems may evolve into complex, multi-phase installations that support not only heating and cooking but also food processing and preservation. The central hearth (designated Hearth 1) and its surrounding features were excavated and studied by a team of Austrian archaeologists as part of a long-term interdisciplinary investigation into Upper Paleolithic lifeways. Hearth 1’s diameter and stratigraphy allowed it to act as a temporal marker within the living floor (AH 4.4), distinguishing multiple occupational and functional phases. The pits’ positioning—directly at the edge of this large hearth—invited further analysis.

II. What Are These Pits? Stratigraphy and Features

More than 20 small pits and three larger pits (Pits 3, 6, and 7) have been found around Hearth 1. While some of the smaller pits may be the result of cryogenic activity or animal activity, the larger ones are definitively anthropogenic. Pit 3, northeast of the hearth, and Pit 7, which appears to be an extension of Pit 3, were associated with the first phase of hearth use. Pit 6, located to the south, belongs to a later phase, indicating a phased and possibly evolving functional relationship with the hearth.

The pits contained burned bones, charcoal, unburned faunal remains, lithic tools, and in one case, an ivory pin. These diverse contents suggest functions beyond simple refuse disposal. Their systematic placement around the hearth—particularly in loess soil hardened by temperatures exceeding 400°C—suggests a shared purpose and planned thermal relationship with the hearth complex.

III. The Smoking Hypothesis: Functional Alignment Over Time

The central proposition of this section is that these pits represent a coordinated system for meat preservation through smoking or drying, evolving alongside the use of the hearth.

  1. Timing and Functional Alignment of Pits with the Hearth Pits 3 and 7 are associated with the first phase of hearth use and may represent early experiments in food storage or rudimentary preservation. Pit 6’s assignment to the second hearth phase indicates an intentional adaptation, possibly toward a more complex preservation method. This phased alignment reveals a dynamic, iterative use of space and heat.
  2. Support for the Smoking Hypothesis During the first phase, the hearth likely served primarily for direct cooking, while adjacent pits took advantage of ambient heat and smoke. Pit 6, introduced in a later phase, may have been used for more deliberate preservation. The evolution of pit use suggests an expanding knowledge base—one that recognized the benefits of heat control and smoke diffusion in extending food shelf life.
  3. Indirect Functional Connectivity Despite the absence of overt tunnels or smoke ducts between the hearth and adjacent pits, their coordinated temporal deployment implies a form of indirect functional unity. Smoke and heat may have passively migrated into these pits via prevailing airflows, sediment porosity, or simple proximity. This would allow Cro-Magnons to harness thermal energy and smoke without the need for engineered conduits—thus achieving a primitive yet highly effective preservation system. It is worth comparing this approach to traditional subterranean smoking systems from Siberia and indigenous North America, which also relied on earth insulation and indirect smoke migration.
  4. Toward a Prehistoric Smokehouse Concept Taken together, the evidence points to a form of primitive smokehouse: a low-tech but highly effective preservation chamber. The Cro-Magnon people who built this system likely experimented, adapted, and refined these pits into a deliberate food preservation infrastructure. Pit 3, described in excavation reports as “a connected feature,” strengthens this interpretation.

IV. Broader Implications: Cognition, Strategy, and Culture

The complexity of this system calls into question long-held assumptions about Paleolithic intelligence. Rather than being reactive foragers, these people exhibited forward planning, technical innovation, and cognitive adaptability. The coordinated use of local raw materials across all hearth phases, consistent access to chert, radiolarite, and fine-grained siliceous limestone for tools, and evidence of spatial organization suggest a stable and competent community.

Moreover, these findings resonate with global traditions of earth ovens and smoke pits—from Native American buffalo ranges to Mesolithic Scandinavia and Jomon Japan—reinforcing the universality of smoke-based preservation strategies.

V. Conclusion: The Krems-Wachtberg Hearth as Evidence of Early Meat Curing

The association of Pits 3, 6, and 7 with different hearth phases, their strategic placement at the thermal boundary of Hearth 1, and their contents all support the theory of intentional food preservation. The site should be interpreted not merely as a campfire locale, but as a proto-technological installation: a smokehouse engineered into the Paleolithic landscape. These findings strengthen the central claim of the Wechsel article: that survival in glacial Europe demanded and inspired the earliest techniques of meat curing—ones that would echo for millennia through Alpine monasteries, medieval smokehouses, and industrial food systems today.

The Cro-Magnon people at Krems-Wachtberg were not only hunters and toolmakers but stewards of a complex technological legacy that included one of humanity’s most enduring innovations: the preservation of meat through smoke and heat.

I’ve expanded the introduction to include a clear explanation of what a hearth system is and how it relates to domestic and preservation activities in Paleolithic societies. This provides readers with a grounded understanding before entering the analysis of the Krems-Wachtberg features.

Interpretive Hypothesis: The Wechsel Tunnel Systems as Multi‑Use Subterranean Infrastructure, Including Meat Preservation ⚒️

1. Climatic Imperative: Habitats of Glacial Challenge

  • .
  • .

2. Architectural Convergence with Preservation Requirements

3. Social and Functional Integration

  • .

4. Archaeological Precedent: The Smoking Hearth of Krems-Wachtberg

  • .

5. Cultural Memory and Functional Continuity

.

Key Evaluative Table

AspectEvidenceAssessment Climatic necessity Caves ideal for passive preservation; above-ground unreliable Architectural suitability Vent shafts, niches, temperature stability Physically amenable to curing practices Social requirement Communal construction and ritualized sharing Supports centralized food processing Archaeological analogy Krems-Wachtberg hearth-pits show smoke-preservation knowledge Demonstrates early curing tech Oral tradition Legends of underground spaces with shimmering interiors Suggests longstanding functional use remembered culturally

✅ Summary of Probability Analysis

  1. Construction Purpose: Not exclusively for curing, but highly probable that curing was among core, evolving functions.
  2. Climate-Driven Utility: The fluctuation and severity of early Holocene winters practically necessitated effective preservation solutions.
  3. Multi-functional Design: Tunnel architecture aligns seamlessly with meat-processing needs—drying, hanging, storing—especially when connected to communal practices.
  4. Ethnographic & Archaeological Parallels: Worldwide analogues and Paleolithic precedents strongly indicate this was both possible and practiced.
  5. Cultural Retention: Oral legends reinforce the idea that these spaces were significant in subsistence and social life, beyond rudimentary shelter.

In Conclusion

Given the compelling convergence of climatic pressing needs, architectural practicality, subsistence economics, archaeological precedent, and cultural memory, it is robustly probable that the Wechsel tunnels served as primitive meat-curing chambers, especially during glacial winters. This functional evolution likely reinforced tunnel maintenance and communal importance, solidifying their role in survival, ritual, and technological development over millennia.

References

  • Mandl, Andreas. Erdställe in Österreich. Wien: Edition Roesner, 1998.
  • Seiser, Franz. Volkskundliche Studien zur Nutzung unterirdischer Räume. Graz: Verlag des Instituts für Europäische Ethnologie, 1995.
  • Pucher, Josef. “Die Funktion der Erdställe: Ein Beitrag zur Forschungsgeschichte.” Mitteilungen der Prähistorischen Kommission, 60 (2003): 51–78.
  • Pachler, Anna. Sagen aus der Steiermark. Graz: Leykam, 1909.
  • Wastl, Karl. Volkskundliche Aufzeichnungen aus dem Mühlviertel. Linz: Archiv des Oberösterreichischen Landesmuseums, 1877.
  • Wolfsgruber, Ignaz. Kirchliche Volksmission und Volksfrömmigkeit in der Steiermark. Wien: Herder, 1924.