From the Archives - Germany

One of my final stops in Germany was the southern Bavarian ski town called Garmisch-Partenkirchen. G-P lies in a valley at the base of the Bavarian Alps, and Germany's highest point is within viewing distance...except on a day like the day I was there.

When thinking of G-P, think of Vail, Colorado crossed with a Ricola commercial. This is an upscale town in which spotting lederhosen-clad men in tights is not outside the norm.

I love hiking, so I couldn't wait to arrive. The train ride in took us through some beautiful countryside increasingly walled by mountains as we closed in on our final destination.

At the visitor's center near the train station, I grabbed a crude map of the area and decided to set out for the first hiking train I could find (after first making a stop for some bottled water and German chocolate). From the map, I learned that G-P once hosted the Winter Olympics, and that the facilities (ski jump, luge track, etc.) still dot the area.

I eventually walked through town to a trailhead and took off up the mountain you see in the background of the photo. As you call tell, it was a very dreary day. The higher I climbed, the foggier it became. I walked through some of the eeriest, though stunning, scenery you could imagine. I could just picture Hansel and Gretel skipping down the path in these woods. Past precipitous cliffs where the trail hugged tightly against a sheer face. Through dense, fog shrouded woods. Up steep inclines, and through rock strewn crevasses. Up and up I went. I ran into nobody. And honestly, I had no idea where I was going.

As I went higher and higher, the fog thickened accordingly. I came to a fork in the path. I decided to head right because the map showed that direction to be the quickest to the top. Up and up I went. But I had no bearings. The fog was too thick to look off the cliffs and see where I was vis-a-vis the town below. I was running low on water and chocolate.

Then through the fog I came to a narrow path along a sheer face. To the right, fog-shrouded oblivion. To the left a high, rocky cliff. Straight ahead a four foot wide path strewn with boulders. I advanced about 200 yards, stepping over and around large chunks of mountain a the way. Finally, I looked up and noticed in the infinite haze, that the cliff overhanged the path. With no hardhat in my backpack, I decided this would be the best point to turn back.

I didn't want my vacation to end with a rock to the head and only the forest gnomes of Germany knowing what happened to my body.