The planned excitement for the second day of my Bayern hike was to ascend "Bavaria's Mount Parnassus" to the pilgrimage church Hohenpeißenberg. Afterward, my plan was to descend to and follow the Ammer river to Rottenbuch.
In the garden at Zum Eibenwald:
In the woods above Zum Eibenwald, I passed a trio of memorial markers with a poetic sense of humor. The first marker is in high German: "A light shines in the darkness; stay safe, light, in this world, so that no one falls in the ditch." The middle post veers into Bayerisch: "A little verse comes to mind just now, more beautiful it couldn't be anywhere; the sun laughs down from the sky, and that really burns into you my dear friend, I say. The birds twitter around, the flies drink from the puddle, and softly plays music 'du-de-lu, du-de-lu' in my left breast pocket like my heart. But the heart does not like to make more du-de-lu because it can't keep up. Now there are flowers growing above me that are very quiet--so quiet that you, oh Wanderer, stay still, because then you can hear, if God permits, a very quiet du-de-lu because they buried my cell phone with me." The rightmost post continues, "The rose flowers quietly at the fence; then comes a thunderstorm and crumples the rose."
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| I don't always understand it, but I can usually recognize it: Boarisch/Bayerisch |
I hadn't paid much attention to the day's planned elevation gains, other than anticipating the tromp up to Hohenpeißenberg, but there were a lot of built-in trail steps in the woods near Zum Eibenwald. My cell phone camera flattens elevation gains, so imagine these steps going up up up rather than flat ahead.
As shown by the signage on the pole, a lot of trails run through this area.
I eventually arrived in Forst, where there were more storks...
...and a 1,000 year old Linden tree.
Beyond Forst, the cows were just as interested in me as I was in them. I'm guessing I was the most interesting thing they'd seen all morning.
Eventually the route up to Hohenpeißenberg headed upward into the woods...
...and up to some foggy fields. I was grateful for the desire path, because there was no sign of the church buildings up ahead through the fog.
Trails often pass through pastures surrounded by electric fences. This was one of the most luxurious fence crossings I've encountered.
At last, the top of Parnassus! Can you see the church to the right? Me neither.
Ah, there it is! You can even see the church tower through the fog!
And look! In the distance: the Alps!
Here's a close up, so you can tell which far-off peaks are which.
The visibility was better inside than outside:
And the visibility improved as I headed back down.
Past the town, the trail made its way toward the Ammer. The trail started as a narrow path off a forest road--one of those out of the way places where I figured if I fell and broke a leg, it would take about a week for someone else to pass by.
I waited for the train to go by before stepping over the tracks...
This way to the Ammer! The Ammer runs from the Alps into the Ammersee; the Amper is the river that runs out of the Ammersee into the Isar.
Lotsa wood:
The trail paralleled the Ammer for several km, but it took a while to get some good views of the river. Abundant signs warned hikers to stay on the trail to avoid trampling the eggs of breeding birds.
This here acrophobe fully intended to take some photos from the middle of this bridge--for real!--but it was in a state of disrepair and covered with signs that said no crossing allowed.
I expected the trail to remain flat--but the Ammer had other geological plans. The Ammerschlucht--the Ammer gorge--is geologicallly fascinating, and as deep as some of the canyons we hiked in Utah in March (but less nerve-wracking for this acrophobe, thanks to all the vegetation--in Utah, there's nothing to catch you if you fall).
Heading up from the defunct bridge: moss-covered calcareous sinter terraces.
And up and up and up. It rained for the five minutes it took me to dig out my raincoat and backpack cover. Then it stopped raining.
The sides of the canyon were steep enough that the trail included multiple boardwalks:
Big rocks on steep slopes:
German trails--even rugged ones through steep terrain--are impressively civilized. I paused on a bench at a curve in the trail and enjoyed this view, appreciating that every bench--or the materials for every bench--in the middle of the woods had to be schlepped up there:
The trail continued up and down and up and down for several kilometers, sometimes reinforced with cables to help keep hikers from slipping into the Ammer...
Finally, more steps...
...and suddenly the trail exited the gorge and emerged into farmland.
Over the hill and to the right, fields:
To the left, the Ammer gorge:
See that hill in the distance? That's Hohenpeißenberg! Still hazy, but you can make out the church on top.
When I planned my route, Rottenbuch was just a convenient place to stop for the night--but it has one of the most spectacular Baroque Bavarian churches I've ever seen.
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| Almost 1,000 years of wear and tear on the stone steps... |
After dinner, the sun came out, so I hiked another 4 miles--without backpack--to finally find a view of the Alps. Getting closer!
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| My view for the night... |
Ta da! ~16 miles, not including the four after dinner. Twenty miles spread out over a day is much more manageable than twenty miles all at once.
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