Hitz Adventures: "Danke Schoen" (Part 2 of 3)

Today starts the Westweg hike. An ominous start, pouring rain bgan around 7pm last night. Forecast says it will not be stopping anytime soon. It’s not easy to start hiking when you know you will be soaked for the next 8 hours. I walked back to the train station and went one stop to the next town, before backtracking to the start of the trail.

I struggled with my rain setup for this trip. I have rain jacket and rain pants, but honestly they are kinda bulky to pack and leave me feeling like "the boy in the bubble".

I decided to bring a simple $5 poncho instead. It is easy to take on and off, with good ventilation, but with a backpack on underneath, it leaves my legs soaked. I should have just worn shorts so it wouldn’t be an issue, but I was a little self-conscious because then it just looks like I am naked under the poncho to everyone I approach. I had all day to consider the correct setup. I know you are all interested in what I decided, well I wont leave you in suspense. In the future, I will wear a breathable cheap rain coat and a rain “skirt.”

Is a skirt better than the naked look? I don’t know but I feel the skirt (poncho pants) will breath better while getting good coverage. I am sure I will change my mind again, but as I write this I have purchased every conceivable option on Amazon and watching the clouds in anticipation for the next storm to put them to the test.

Much like in Ireland, I would hike up one hill and down the other side to a river and/or village. The difference here is that each hill usually had some sort of castle from the Middle Ages. The few structures spared form Allied bombings in WW2.

It was a quick baptism by fire to hike out of the first town to get up amongst the clouds. Thankfully most of the towns in the Black Forest are at elevation, so once you are up there on the ridge, they rarely go back all the way to sea level, saving my legs and fragile psyche. I made a stop at the first hiking shelter I found, lingering longer than necessary, basically because I did not want to get soaked again.

It was here I learned a simple lesson. When the trail markers say one thing, but your phone app says the other, stop being in idiot and follow the trail marker. I ended walking ½ mile downhill on a road that contradicted the trail marker and then saw my location on my phone app update from the trail to some guys driveway. From then on I vowed not to be stupid. The phone app is a good check, but don’t forget simple common sense. A good lesson for all of us. The stories of how a person was following google maps and drove right off an abandoned bridge into a lake now made perfect sense.

My plan was to complete the trail over the next 7 days, averaging about 15 miles each day. The last couple miles today were hard on the soles of my feet and knees, but I had no blisters so we will count that as a win. I checked into my lodging for the night at Wilhelmshöhe guesthouse. I tried to finish each day around 3pm. That way I could check-in, decompress, and make it down to dinner around 6pm. The boiler room in the basement allowed me to dry my clothes. This is where I ran into one of the most fascinating situations in my life, and in no way was it mind-blowing because I was over-served on edibles before dinner. So, I hung my clothes on some pipes and put my wet shoes on a shelf. I looked down and saw this waste basket full of balled up newspaper

I stuffed them into my shoes, and thought, “wow, that is nice of them to ball up all these newspapers to use in shoes.” Obviously I realized the error in my thinking. They did not fill this waste basket full of newspaper. These were left from the last person who dried their shoes. I then was amazed by the concept of this unending loop I had stumbled upon. These newspapers could have been from 1980! People use the newspaper, they get wet and are tossed into the basket, they dry out and the next person reuses them. They never have to replenish the newspaper! I was at dinner thinking through that same idea hours later. Why don’t we that with more things? It was about then that I almost patented a fabric to dry oneself after a shower with a reusable material, kinda like what you might call a “towel.”

I sat down to a meal of cooked asparagus and local trout. It must be the specialty around here as I had it almost every night, along with asparagus soup.

I was deep into my 3^rd beer when I forgot that even though I was in a booth, it was not your typical booth, more like a bench shared with table behind me. I passed gas, and immediately thought, dammit you cant do that. 2 minutes later I did it again. Then I turned around to the people behind me to see if they noticed, and they were looking right at me. And that really is the worst part. If you think about farting, it is really not advisable to turn around after and make eye contact with the people you are hiding it from, unless of course you are the dominate male in this prairie and you are starring them down to show dominance.

I almost talked to the lady serving me about the "newspaper loop", but I showed great restraint. Although, I feel I did not completely retain my composure because at one point in our broken English conversation I remember her saying, “You are all done, you can go now” and I was left wondering if that was a lost in translation moment or was she telling me I was cut of and I needed to return to my room and lock the door for the evening.

I got back to my room and thought, “Man, I could go for some dessert, I wonder if they have something I could get and bring back up”. I got up from bed and started down the stairs, only to realize I had already had 3 scoops of ice cream after dinner, making the lady bring the dessert tray my table. I spent a couple minutes trying to justify continuing for more dessert but was unsuccessful with those oral arguments.

The next morning was free from rain. I went into the lobby ready for breakfast. I was served a couple rolls and coffee. It always takes a little bit to figure out what each country calls breakfast. It is like going down to the lobby for the hotel continental breakfast; you need to walk around a bit to understand what’s going on here. Eventually I figured out that I am supposed to take these rolls and load them up with slices of processed meat. Not really my normal breakfast, but I was easily convinced to adopt this custom. I made up 4 “breakfast sandwiches”, wolfed down 2 and packed 2 for the road.

The rain was supposed to return by 3pm so I wanted to make good time and get to the next lodging before having a mental struggle with appropriate rain protection.

I hit a guesthouse around 9am, too early for a beer so just laid in the sun for 30 minutes before continuing on.

I entered a really beautiful stretch of woods. It was rare to see other hikers, but at this junction I did and she asked where the trail was, as she had gotten lost. I motioned in one direction as I sat eating my lunch. After lunch I started down that path only to realize it was not the trail. Oh well, hopefully she will be ok. The trail was usually very well marked, but there were times where I could not find the red Diamond signifying the Westweg, and a guess had to be made. Usually, if you picked the wrong one and you did not see a trail blaze on a tree for ¼ mile you knew you probably went the wrong way. I did not carry a paper map, I mean it was not like I was in the jungle and could really end up in danger by going off-trail. The phone app trail kinda followed the trail but about 25% of the time it short-cutted the trail by following a main road.

I came across a group of beautiful cows, or as you might call, "a herd." They almost always would come over to check me out.

About 2 miles short of my destination for the night, I went off-trail into a town to stop for a few beers.

I ran into a few guys riding motorcycles through the Black Forest. I was surprised by how many motorcycles I saw when I crossed major roads. I actually saw more motorcycles than cars. It must be a big bucket-list item for riders.

I finally rolled into Kalte Herberge about 30 minutes before the skies opened up

Another white tablecloth dinner with asparagus and some sort of Tater Tot stuffed with mashed potatoes.

The next day was clear skies again. I was making up for that day 1 downpour. My pack was feeling heavy, my knees and feet were aching but I would be ok. I needed to shed more weight from this pack. I spent a few hours just mentally going through the items in my pack to see what I could jettison.

Came across this sign

It reminded me of the musical piece, “Peter and the Wolf”

I then had this playing in my head for the next 5 hours

It was a holiday weekend in Germany. I was ending in the tourist trap of a town called Titisee, but before I got there I kept passing groups of people getting drunk at 9am.

Coming down the hill into town I came across this barn

All of the traditional buildings in the Black Forest have this type of roof. Now, not all of them choose to shingle every square inch of real estate like this guy, but I was wondering what the advantage is to creating another angle on the roofs. I guess it has something to do with wind and snow protection, but it just seems kinda depressing to imagine spending a winter cooped up in.

After checking in, I headed down to the lake. In addition to being famous for cake and ham, the Black Forest is also the epicenter of Cuckoo Clocks. I wandered into one shop thinking it might be a nice souvenir to add to my, at this point embarrassing, collection of nick knacks.

They had gentleman in lab coats describing the inter-workings of gears that mesh together to allow a bird to emerge every 12 hours, emitting dulcet tones reminding all within earshot that it is time to milk the cow or update your facebook status. I changed my mind rather quickly and made my way down to the water’s edge

Here I found myself surrounded by numerous photoshoots. This guy, riding his motorcycle with his wife through the Black Forest, had the routine down cold.

He immediately took the initial shot of his helmet, and then would robotically strike various head angle poses obviously done countless times at previous vista locations.

Then there was a short review, almost like a coach coming out to talk to a pitcher on the mound in baseball. “You see what you did here, you dropped your elbow a bit, let’s try it again, but this time really follow through on that pose, get that left leg out there”

Then there was this group.

I don’t know if they were acting like this was their boat or what. “Spalding get your foot off the boat!” I wanted to yell

It was about this time that I looked back and the first couple was still at it!

People are all the same. I thought about a ship of explorers landing on the beach of a remote island. Natives emerging from the jungle. Neither side can understand the other, but they both share smiles and similar mannerisms. What was I more amazed by in that encounter, the similarities, or the differences?

More Asparagus for dinner that night

The next morning I was ready to leave Titisee behind. I followed the edge of the lake to the opposite side.

Here I found how the other half lives. Motorhomes and pop up trailers.

Now, this was the place to be last night.

I passed rows of pines, reminding me of reading that the entire old growth forest here was cut down and replaced with tall white pine trees. Why? Because white pines grow straight and fast, perfect for lumber. The downside is that white pines have shallow root systems. And in an area dominated by strong winds, as evidenced by the multitude of wind farms, that means trees are uprooted frequently. Now, they are slowly correcting that financially driven decision, but the scars were evident all along this hike

Ski resorts are all around here. I passed a few as I climbed out of the valley. Europeans are not soft. When they hike, as I have said before, they don’t deal in switchbacks. They hike straight up the hill.

I made my way towards a cool mountain hut, St Wilhelmer Hutte. I was planning stop to tip a few back, but it was crowded, so I pressed on the final km to my lodging for the night, Todtnauer Hütte.