Minimalist hiking

We were in Freiburg for two reasons: first, so I could give some writing workshops at the university, and second, so Elias could reconnect with friends. Elias had a swimming date set up for Tuesday afternoon, and my workshops began Wednesday morning, so we seized last Tuesday morning as an opportunity for what became our only long hike: 20km from our little Ferienwohnung, up to the windmills atop Roßkopf, through the woods, and down to St. Peter.

I became a minimalist shoe convert last year, after reading Born to Run, and even though I schlepped my hiking boots across the ocean with me, I thought, "the trails around here are so easy, so well-maintained, so flat, and so barely rocky: I shall prove that my feet prefer Stems to Stiefel."

Our apartment was about 50m from a trail head--one of the joys of staying in the Herdern neighborhood. Getting to the top of Roßkopf was mainly a matter of going up the hill and aiming in more-or-less the right direction, since for any hiking destination around here, there are usually ten different more-or-less parallel trails to choose from. Our choice shortly led us to this sign; can you believe we went left?

An hour or so later, we reached the top of Roßkopf and paused for lunch under one of the windmills.

Another few hours past scenic vistas and through the woods...

...and we arrived in St. Peter, where I had zero time to acquire any photographic proof because we had to run the last bit in order to catch the bus back to Freiburg for Elias's swimming date.

The result of the Stems experiment: ouch ouch ouch. Two days later, however, my feet had completely recovered, which suggests the first long hike of the year in Stems on well-kempt, soft, slightly rocky German trails is much like the first bicycle ride after a year of not riding: once the relevant tender parts are broken in, you're good for the long haul.

St. Ottilien

Saturday was another lovely, cool, sunny day, so we decided to go hiking again. Because I had gotten a blister coming down the Belchen, we chose something relatively short and easy this time--the Roßkopf-St. Wendelin-St. Ottilien route. We were joined by Jan, a colleague of Stefan's from NCSU who is in Freiburg for a sabbatical.

Near the end of our hike, we stopped at the restaurant next to St. Ottilien for lunch. The current chapel dates to 1714, but the story of St. Ottilie reaches back to the 7th century: the blind daughter of an Alemannisch count, Ottilie was healed by water flowing from a spring that flows under the chapel site. The chapel is only open occasionally, so it was a special treat for us that folks were setting up for a wedding and we were able to take a quick peek inside.

It didn't occur to me to seek out healing waters for my toe. After lunch, to avoid further blister damage, I contorted my foot and got compensatory blisters on two additional toes. Ouch. When we awoke this morning, Elias cheerfully announced, "Mama, you can be happy--it's raining!"

Roßkopf

The four windmills atop the Roßkopf, a mountain above the east side of Freiburg, are a convenient landmark. Visible from assorted freeways and Suedschwarzwald peaks, they help us orient ourselves in the direction of the city wherever we are.

This afternoon I headed northward into the hills. Three miles later, I unintentionally arrived at the windmills, having followed the simple prescription "immer aufwaerts" ("ever upward").

The windmills are very, very big. Really impressively big. The spinning blades cast gigantic shadows and make a quietly eerie humming sound.

A short distance away from the windmills is a diminutive 10-story high viewing tower that was erected by the Schwarzwald Verein in 1889. I didn't make it to the top to admire the curlicue wrought iron filigree, as the rickety wooden steps and the larger-than-usual "climb at your own risk" sign made me content to stop at the second floor.

On my hike down, I came across the St. Wendelin Kapelle, an isolated chapel basically in the middle of nowhere. The current stone chapel dates from 1895 and replaced a wooden chapel built in 1713. The original chapel was used as a shelter against storms and as a stopping off point for pilgrims travelling between Freiburg and St. Peter. St. Wendelin is very, very small. Really impressively small. If you had an interest in doing such things, you could probably pack a dozen or so St. Wendelin chapels into each windmill tower.