Bayern hike photo dump 7: Immenstadt to Oberstaufen

Way back in April, I cut short my long-planned 8-day Bayern hike from Steinebach to Lindau, ending instead in Immenstadt on day 6. I chose Immenstadt because Stefan could easily get there by train from Steinebach. We took a 4-mile afternoon hike, and a 3-mile hike the next morning--impressive distances for someone just 2.5 weeks out from breaking his femur--and we vowed to walk the rest of the way to Lindau once Stefan's leg had sufficiently healed. 

June 23 was the day we started filling in that gap. Thanks yet again to the German government's subsidization of rail and bus travel with the 9-Euro/month Deutche Bahn ticket, we hopped on the 5:33am train in Steinebach to head back to Immenstadt.

Our destination for the day was Oberstaufen, 14 miles westward. Oberstaufen wasn't the most direct route toward Lindau (although it wasn't too far off), but it had a train station, meaning we could return to Steinebach that afternoon.

Our route took us along the east side of the Alpsee, past beaches and restaurants. I was amused by the Schwäbisch enthusiasm for English and extra umlauts on the sign at Seemanns: "bäschd food änd view": 

The view back and down to the Alpsee was lovely:

A cross (Kreuz) on a peak (Gipfel) is a Gipfelkreuz.

The snow-capped peaks in the distance are in Switzerland:

As we hiked along the ridge, we caught our first glimpses of the long-awaited Bodensee in the distance. I kept waiting for the view to open up--for us to get to a tree-less highpoint on the ridge--so I didn't bother taking a photo when the minimal view was maximal. Consequently, this is the best I have...

 

Beyond the Maximiliansweg Day 8: Königssee to Röthbachfall

Day 8: Wednesday July 20

Our original plan, way back in April, was that Stefan would join me and Leslie in Berchtesgaden for a "yay us!" ferry ride on the Königssee, after he wrapped up his bicycling tour around Mt. Blanc with friends. His broken femur put the kibosh on the bike ride, but he still took a train to Berchtesgaden to meet us.

Or to meet me. Leslie decided a quick day trip to Austria was more appealing than a few--ok, several--more miles of hiking. I jokingly suggested she could go on the epitome of touristy trips, The Original Sound of Music Tour, and that's what she did! (We had also discussed possibly visiting Hitler's hangout, the Eagle's Nest, built for the SS elite, now a historic site held by a charitable trust, but the restaurant and Biergarten on top just seemed so grossly inappropriate, given, you know, the atrocities committed by those SS elite during the Holocaust, that we had no desire to go.) Austria was off limits for me because my Fiktionsbescheinigung wouldn't allow me to re-enter Germany, plus I'm always up for a few--ok, several--more miles of hiking. So off Leslie went to see Salzburg, and off I went for another quick wander around town until Stefan's increasingly delayed train arrived. 

The Stiftskirche St. Peter und Johannes der Täufer was crowded for a service involving kids, so I avoided going in...

...but a hop, skip, and a jump away, St. Andreas was empty:

Note the ornate woodwork adorning the organ loft:

It's trompe l'oeil:

When the time came, I headed toward the bus/train depot to meet Stefan. Near the station, the rail line parallels the bright blue silty Ache:

The 9-Euro ticket was fabulous for us, but it was also fabulous for over 30 million other train riders, which meant trains were often overcrowded and running late. Stefan's train was late coming into Freilassing, so he missed his connection to Berchtesgaden. He managed to catch a bus, but the buses were also overcrowded, so instead of trying to join him on his bus when it came through Berchtesgaden, I hopped on a different bus--one that still had some standing room left for passengers--to meet him at the scenic tourist-magnet, Königssee.

We took a ferry down the lake...

...past Sankt Bartholomä (where one can disembark, but we chose not to, because a hike awaited)...

...to Salet, where we hiked into the Berchtesgaden National Park, up and around the Obersee (see map at bottom)...

..and then up to Röthbachfall, Germany's tallest vertical-drop water fall. Alas, during drought conditions on a blazing hot day, the waterfall was flowing at barely a trickle. Can you see it?

Maybe you can see the waterfall in this cow video? With a heat wave, drought, and wildfires affecting much of Europe this summer, the dry waterfall was a stark reminder that climate change demands a dedicated, intentional, international response. 

Our train out of Berchtesgaden was delayed, so we missed our connection in Freilassing, where the next train was delayed again and again. For reasons unknown, there was a heavy police presence at the station. The posse was inspecting trains coming from Salzburg and carting the occasional person off. Our 3.5-hour trip eventually turned into 5.5 (and poor Stefan had already spent 4 hours on trains and buses that morning). We were glad when we finally arrived back in Steinebach at 11pm.

Ta da! 5.25 miles out of the day's 9--an actual "rest day," aside from the trains and buses. 

Maximiliansweg Day 7: Bad Reichenhall to Berchtesgaden

Day 7: Tuesday, July 19

On our last day of our point-to-point hike, we followed the Maximiliansweg from Bad Reichenhall to Berchtesgaden, with no particular challenges other than some hungry mosquitoes as we paralleled the hillside train tracks north of Winkl.

We awoke to the tintinnabulation of the bells, bells, bells, bells, bells, bells, bells:
 

We passed Bad Reichenhall's 12th-century Romanesque (19th-c. Neo-Romanesque) basilica, St. Nikolaus, on our way out of town:

Once we left Bad Reichenhall behind, we spent most of the day hiking through woods. 

What's that? The word Maximiliansweg on a signpost? A first for us on this trip: 

Butterflies were plentiful:

We were never atop any mountains this day, but as we approached Berchtesgaden, woods yielded to fields, and we had excellent mountain views despite our low altitude.

The city Berchtesgaden is about 900 years old; the building below dates to the 1400s. More Berchtesgaden architecture photos follow down below.

Our hotel had multiple signs asking people to mask. In German, the signs said "No one must, but please do." 

The German must have been translated into English using some out-of-date auto-translate software:

Our hotel was down the hill from a Franciscan Kloster with a steep roof that we had seen from afar when first entering town, so we walked up to take a look.

I'm a fan of skull sculpture...

In the Altstadt, a statue provides a lesson on how to squeeze water from a pig:

After dinner, I took an evening walk in search of a sunset view, having been spoiled by the dramatic sunsets on Hochries and Kampenwand. Photos do a poor job of capturing the expansiveness of the views around Berchtesgaden. 

Hiking back down into town, I found Calvary:

Ta da! 12.2 of the day's 17 miles.

Not entirely the Maximiliansweg Day 6: Inzell to Bad Reichenhall

Day 6: Monday, July 18

I suppose it makes sense that we didn't see much signage for the Maximiliansweg on the days we weren't entirely on the Maximiliansweg. Leslie's muscles (and consequently Leslie's brain) were much happier avoiding steep downhills, so we took the lower-elevation SalzAlpenSteig trail southward out of Inzell, rather than the higher-elevation east-heading Maximiliansweg. The two trails joined up a few miles west of Bad Reichenhall, so it wasn't an entirely Maximilianless day.

Inzell is home to the Max Aicher speedskating arena. We deftly peeked through the windows (without touching the glass, of course, because touching the glass is Not Allowed) and saw speedskaters doing their morning rounds:

The SalzAlpenSteig is a 230-km trail that runs from Prien through Berchtesgaden and on into Austria, ending in Obertraun. It traces the history of the salt trade through the Alps, where salt and brine are abundant: 250 million years ago, before the Alps rose up, this area was covered by ocean. Signs along the trail provided history about the first salt brine pipeline in the world, which was made of wood and ran through here:

My hiking style is generally to go and go and go, without stopping until I reach my destination, while Leslie is better about stopping to smell the roses. The SalzAlpenSteig provided multiple shelters with scenic views that encouraged me to be more conscientious about taking breaks. 

We knew when the SalzAlpenSteig joined up with the Maximiliansweg because Komoot told us. Despite the blazes on the trees, the Maximiliansweg continued to be unmarked. The blue zigzags on a yellow field are for the SalzAlpenWeg, and the white-red-white stripes indicate an alpine trail.

Once we rejoined the Maximiliansweg, it was a steep but straightforward downhill zigzag all the way into Bad Reichenhall. This section of trail was a great place to practice trotting downhill--easier on the muscles, with less likelihood of slipping, than going at a more controlled pace. 

My, what a huge root system you have!

We took a stretch break next to these sheep. I'm certain sheep are highly intelligent creatures, but I can also understand why it's so hard for us dumb humans to recognize that in their if-I-can't-se-you-you-can't-see-me behavior. Baa.

Cyclamen

We arrived in Bad Reichenhall's Altstadt...

...and found our hotel. Leslie took a break, while I set off in search of Kuchen. On my meandering, I discovered we had arrived at just the right time to catch a free outdoor abridged performance of Mozart's Marriage of Figaro.

But first, Kuchen: hazelnut with brickle bits...

Then Figaro, scored for five vocalists, one narrator, string quartet, and (brilliantly) accordion. 

...and a brief stroll after dinner.

 Ta da! 11 miles.