Another long walk: Steinebach Hechendorf Seefeld Oberalting Meiling

The rain has abated! E and I went for a walk this sunny afternoon, fully intending to end up in Herrsching, but we changed plans in the middle, opting for open fields instead of wooded paths, and a loop walk instead of one-way + train.

As we headed out of Steinebach, we passed an architect's office with a pair of snowpeople outside. It hasn't snowed in Steinebach yet this winter, so we're guessing someone drove down to the Alps to pick up a carload of snow.

It is, however, finally below freezing. The hills were covered with hoarfrost.

Along Steinebacher Weg, heading toward Hechendorf, we saw this bucolic scene featuring Kloster Andechs on the middle-ground morraine and our friend the unfenced cow in the foreground meadow.

Our favorite lone-tree-on-a-hill, in sunlight instead of rain:

Proof that E was there. He took his hat off for this photo.

An underpass in Hechendorf:

I didn't take any photos up at Schloss Seefeld, but several of its galleries were open (on a Sunday!). E and I peeked inside one that was exhibiting intricate, bold necklaces made from copious quantities of silver, exotic feathers, and Bergkristalle ("mountain crystals," known as rock crystals in English--large pieces of remarkably clear quartz). The artist's mother was staffing the store, and she spoke enthusiastically with us about the art. Some of the pieces were displayed on MOOSE ANTLERS. I resisted saying "Wow!! European moose antlers!!" and launching into a discussion of moose, Elch, wapiti, and etymology (mainly because I couldn't remember the German word for "antlers"--Geweih).

Schloss Seefeld was the far point of our loop. Heading back through Seefeld, we came upon the village war memorials: WWI memorial (background), WWII memorial (middle ground), and "Over 60 years of peace 2008" marker (foreground).

Oberalting's St. Peter and Paul Church. The base of the tower dates back to the 15th century; the church was rebuilt and baroquified in the 17th century. The clock and sundial date from 1963.

We had seen multiple 3M signs on our walk, and decided to intentionally follow one. We were glad we did, because otherwise...

...Carly would not have been able to converse with the local chickens, who turned out to be cousins. (Conversing through the fence was a little weird.)

Signs indicate that a 3M factory indeed exists on the hill above Oberalting. E and I were intrigued that the three entrances are numbered 2, 1, and 3. (S says this is because the visitor entrance is the main entrance. We imagine verbal directions might be something like, "Please use entrance #1, the visitors' entrance. It's the second entrance on your right.")

Cars were zipping by us on the road to 3M, so we decided to skip finding the factory and instead cut through a field on a tractor path, hoping to rejoin a trail.

Some of the tractor tracks were filled with ice.

Our plan was foiled by an electric fence, so we turned back. The valley below us was illuminated with golden light.

We continued through the fields on a path that led us past a horse farm...

...over a bridge...

...through the fields...

Look! Up there on the hill! It's the 3M factory!

...to Meiling. This is St. Margarethe Church.

We were treated to some fabulous views as we headed up the road back to Steinebach. Every 50 meters or so, I'd say, "here E, hold my hat so I can take some pictures." E finally said, "you know, you take something like 300 photos every time we go for a walk, but you only keep, like, 10 of them. Why don't you just take those 10 and skip the rest?"

E kept saying the sky looked like a rainbow, and my camera agreed.

Herrsching accomplished

In Germany, stores close midday on Christmas Eve, and remain closed Christmas Day and the day after. S and I made a quick trip to Herrsching to buy some last-minute groceries, and since E and I hadn't managed to walk to Herrsching on Solstice, I decided I'd walk home from Herrsching on Christmas Eve.

As I followed the footpath along the train tracks out of Herrsching and through the marsh, I observed that someone had placed a coin on the train tracks. That person surely was not myself, because I would of course never ever place objects on train tracks, let alone in a country where trains reliably run on predictable schedules.

After 5 short minutes, an S-Bahn passed by. Alas, I could not find the flattened coin, but from the shadows of its former existence that it left on the tracks, it appears to have been a United States quarter. Imagine that.

As I approached Hechendorf, I headed up the hill, away from the train tracks and the Pilsensee. There's an excellent view of Schloss Seefeld across the Pilsensee, in the parking lot of the Gaststaette Pilsenhof...

...where there's a restaurant called the Entenbraterei (Duck Roastery).

Across the street, a Christmas Eve service with brass music and hymns was starting outside of the Kirche Sankt Michael. The church tower dates to ~1270.

Walking through Hechendorf, I found a source for sacks of worm fertilizer. The sacks were self-serve, so anyone needing humus over Christmas could purchase some at their leisure!

Out of Hechendorf, I took my favorite path (Steinebacher Weg) past our new friend the cow, who didn't appear to have moved more than 10 meters since Saturday,...

...past the lone tree on the hill,...

...into Steinebach, and home.

Did I mention it was raining the entire 10.4 km, and my rain jacket turned out not to be waterproof?

Are moose to elk as pie is to Kuchen?

Tonight, I learned that the European word for moose (Alces alces) is Elch. The scientific name for moose (clearly bestowed by Europeans) is basically Latin for Elk elk.

Alaskan moose = Elch

In the U.S., we use the word "elk" not for moose, but for wapiti--Cervus canadensis. This is because early European explorers in North America thought Cervus canadensis looked like European moose, which they had already named "elk."

The word "moose" comes from an Algonquin language, Eastern Abenaki: mos. Wikipedia's entry on Elk adds that Asian elk are usually called wapiti (but doesn't say by whom)--from a Shawnee/Cree word, waapiti, meaning "white rump"--because Europeans call moose "elk." Calling Asian elk "elk" would confuse them with moose.

Wapiti standing in a Nebraska field = "elk" in
North American English. This is not a moose.

This topic came up at dinner tonight through a series of moose homonyms.

We were discussing words I find difficult to distinguish, like Abfall (garbage) and Apfel (apple). The difference in pronunciation lies in the vowel of the second syllable (faahl vs. fll), but sometimes the vowel zips past in a vague context, and I can't tell what the speaker means. For example, yesterday S suggested to E that perhaps E could do something about the Abfall/Apfel. We had some apples that needed eating, as well as some garbage that needed to be taken out. Which was it?

Discussing this at dinner tonight, our friend B observed that unlike Apfelmus (applesauce), Abfallmus (garbage puree) wouldn't be very pleasant. "Das muss sein" ("that must be"), he added, making a joke out of Mus (puree) and muss (must)--both of which sound similar to "moose." Naturally, I asked, "wie sagt man moose?" ("how does one say 'moose'?")--which everyone heard as "wie sagt man mousse?", because Germans have heard of Mousse, but not moose--because moose are Elch.

For most of the evening, I thought the word "moose" should join the word "pie" on the list of words the German language should adopt, because in North America, moose and elk are clearly different animals. But then I learned that the moose/elk issue really stems from Europeans wrongly calling North American wapiti elk, not from calling European moose elk--because moose were roaming around Europe long before Europeans had the opportunity to learn the word mos.

Tomorrow I'll ask S and B "wie sagt man 'wapiti' auf deutsch?"

Chukotka moose or east Siberian moose (= Elch)

Regenbogen

Look! Sunlight!

Hooray! E and I trotted down the hill...in the rain...because seeing sunlight over there doesn't mean we have sunlight over here...and were treated to this:

The interwebs tell me this is called a supernumerary rainbow.

Mountain views, take 1

The weather has been rainy on this visit, but we've also had some impressive views of the Alps. The mountains begin about 100km due south of Steinebach--not exactly in the back yard, but close enough to see clearly when conditions are right.

It took me two mornings to find a good location for photographing the mountains (zoom required). The first morning, I was foiled by a bridge closure...

...so I took the road past the goats instead...

...and, never coming to a clear view, eventually made the unwise decision to walk to Oberalting, in the hopes of scaling the hill above that town. But the clock was ticking, and I had to get back for family breakfast, so instead I turned left at the Oberalting church...

...headed back downhill past the bike shop (thinking fondly of S)...

...and past the lumber mill where S had in internship in 1986 (necessitating more thinking fondly of S).

Then I thought maybe it would be just as fast to go home via Meiling--which wasn't the case, but it did offer an opportunity to take a photo of the mural in front of the restaurant Sepperl Wirt (note the mountains in the mural background!). This made me think fondly of E, who had told us his German professor this past semester had asked the class if anyone knew what the word Wirtschaft meant, and E had said it meant a restaurant. His professor had thought that was very funny, because it only means that in Bavaria; the rest of Germany usually assumes Wirtschaft means economy. (Sepperl Wirt is the name of the Wirtschaft that's owned by the host [Wirt] named Joseph [Sepperl].)

By the time I got back for breakfast, my only mountain-photographing options were in the back yard. S decided the fir tree (photo below, on the left) was mucking up the view, so he and E sawed it down that afternoon...

...enabling unobstructed fuzzy high-zoom photos of Andechs...

...as well as the roiling clouds behind the Zugspitze...

...which reminded me of Caspar David Friedrich's Der Wanderer über dem Nebelmeer.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wanderer_above_the_Sea_of_Fog

I'll blog about mountain-view attempt #2 later.