To Bavaria and Beyond: Day 2

Monday found me struggling to peel my eyes open. I think I rolled out of the leopard skinned blanketed mattress on Beth’s living room floor around 9:30 am or so. I had definitely eaten up the sleep after approximately 48 hours void of shut eye. Although I was strangely managing, my body was still a little confused as to whether it should be working or charging. Those of you who have experienced jet lag know the disorientation I am describing. This picture is taken looking out Beth's apartment window.

The Sounds and Smells of Munich
The first morning in Germany met me with a number of peculiar sounds, the most prominent being the clock tower down the street which seemed to be stuck in loop mode. If I remember correctly, there are only 24 hours in the day, but I think this happy bell rang like 50 times. The second ambience I detected was the animated voice of the sister the next room over. She had already been awake for several hours, and was busy in her office catching up on piles of consulting work after a month or so of being away from home. Occasionally, I’d hear an agitated “why isn’t this working?” and an anxious “where did all my files go?” and a despairing “I didn’t mean to send that email!” Catastrophes were in the air, yet they were somehow muted by the wonderfully competing warm aromas of coffee beans and German bread.

Japanese Tourists and Drained Batteries
It was a beautiful day outside, and after a steamy cup of foamed cappucino and a textured bowl of granola, we loaded our hiking bags into the rental car and set out in layered clothing towards Tegernsee, a picturesque town set against the mountains approximately one hour south and slightly east of Munich. The leaves were just beginning to change color, and the combination of the fiery trees and the fog draped rock peaks were breath taking, and altogether a far cry from the relatively flat lands of Ohio. I was quite eager to use my new Sony digital camera (which I had only purchased about a week before my departure). In fact, I spent the majority of our one lane country road drive snapping landscape shots like an over zealous Japanese tourist in Central Park.

Now this is the part where I start to look retarded. Really retarded. I work in technology everyday and am acutely aware of the importance of power, yet on this particular occasion, I managed to forget the crucial aspect of charging my camera battery. Why would I do such a thing? Still not sure. I think the answer has the word “idiot” in it somewhere. Maybe it’s that I didn’t realize that three out of four lit bars of power on my camera doesn’t mean three out of four lit bars of power left. Three bars means your camera’s going to shut down at any moment, and four bars means your lens isn’t even going to retract, and you’re going to have to paste your face on a lot of postcards. I kept kicking myself for not picking up an extra battery in Columbus, but I had my reasons... namely that I was on an extremely tight budget after dropping nearly $2000 on plane tickets, rushed passport fees, hiking shoes, additional athletic apparel, new luggage, and a sweet new camera... not to mention another $1000 or so on sound paneling for my studio room at home (which I probably could have waited on). So, anyways, to make a really long and unnecessary tangent shorter, my sister and I eventually uncovered a small camera shop somewhere between Munich and Tegernsee which sold “universal” camera/video camera chargers, which could function using either a wall outlet or a car cigarette lighter. (The lady at the store counter didn’t understand English, but thankfully, my sister was there to interpret.) The charger wasn’t exactly what I was looking for, but it would do. I walked back to the car with a dead lithium battery in one hand and a new $60 european charger in the other, still kicking myself for not spending that $60 on a new battery in Columbus, all the while reasoning that there would be many other opportunities to snap landscape photos during my ten day trip.

A Wuss With Overpriced Wool Socks
One of sister’s peculiarities is the fact that she doesn’t eat lunch. I, on the other hand, need my food or really bad stuff happens. Headaches and light headedness are the most common ripple, but even worse is the incessant whining. My sister, on the other hand, can eat an apple for breakfast, and spend the remainder of her day undertaking five hour bike rides up 90 degree mountain inclines, hour and a half runs through the afternoon woods, and multiple laps in the pool, all of which are topped off with a pulse raising aqua jog, which commences at the close of the pool. She often then finishes the day with a salad and a cup of tea. I don’t mean to sound like a total wuss here, but I can’t do that. So, with the knowledge that we’d soon would be hiking for hours up a mountain in Tegernsee, I unapologetically requested that we stop to obtain some grub for the ascent.

Any new cultural experience isn’t complete without a round sampling of that culture’s traditional cuisine. So, with that in mind, my sister and I stopped at a small Bavarian mom and pop shop along the road, where we purchased a traditional Tyroler Speck and Bergkaese (ham and cheese) sandwich and of course, an Apfelsaftschorle (apple juice mixed with sparkling mineral water), which slowly evolved into my new favorite drink during the course of the trip. My sister loaned me an extremely petite blue back pack for our climb (which was actually designed for cyclists), and I managed to stuff the white paper bag containing my lunch into one of the pockets, along side several other items, which included: a small black Mag Lite, an extra polypropylene t-shirt, and a pair of non-itch wool socks (costing an outrageous $18 a pair), which I eventually ended up using as make-shift gloves.

I’m Not Fluent, But I’m Fashionable
We arrived at Tegernsee towards mid afternoon, just as the sun was reaching its zenith in the sky, and just as most hikers were turning around to begin their descent back down the mountain path. There were a good ten or more cars parked on either side of the gravel parking lot, which led us to obviously believe that there were quite a few other climbers inhabiting the autumn woods above us. We definitely were getting a late start, but our intention was to hike as far as we could before dark. (Regardless, I packed the Mag Lite as a safe guard in such case that we found ourselves returning along a pitch black trail with stumbling feet.)

A number of the hikers were in fact walking down the mountain at this point in the day, and as we passed them, I was particularly surprised that the majority of them looked over the age of 60. Many of them were using hiking poles (similar to skiing poles), and they were strikingly friendly compared to the reserved and straight faced walkers I’ve encountered throughout Columbus’ recreational parks (in fact, you’ll find that as a guy, most women in Columbus’ parks flat out ignore your attempt to make eye contact or conversation, and I imagine this probably has something to do with the large number of freaks who like to wander the darkened woods of Ohio and beyond). At this point in our walk, my sister appropriately commented that a lot of people in this part of Germany (and for that matter, throughout Europe) are much healthier than the majority of Americans. Whether this is true or not I’m not sure (as it is probably relative to location), but regardless, I was quite impressed to see so many grandmas and grandpas summiting such an extended trail. My sister went on to educate me on several common greetings, one of which is “Servus” (which doubles as hi and good-bye, pronounced “zay vuse”), and the other being “Gruess Gott” (which means hello, pronounced “gute scott”). By the end of my travels, I was becoming quite rehearsed in exercising my handful of German phrases, but my first attempts were mediocre at best, and had me mumbling beneath my American breath in fear that I’d make a total idiot of myself in the presence of the German elderly. It is pretty sad that I spent the first several conscious years of my life in France (my parents were missionaries), yet I still only speak English (and a little bit of jive). But hey, at least I have cool hiking shoes with ventilation and drawstring laces.

The Hut People Must Be Crazy
I can’t tell you what the name of the mountain we were hiking was. It was somewhere in Tegernsee. That’s all I know. What I do know is this. We were headed for Tegernsee Huette (hut), a small building which acts as a refuge for wearied travelers seeking rest and whipped lattes. Many of these huts more closely resemble small coffee shops / restaurants, quite a contrast to the image which first passed my thoughts when my sister said she wanted to hike five hours to the top of a mountain and stay overnight in a hut. I was thinking dirt floors...drafty accomodations...sore backs...all this with the occasional curious coyote sticking his hungry snout through the camel skin doorway. Anyways, around 5:00 pm, we arrived at the hut, but unfortunately, it was closed. What are these hut people thinking!!!???

Well, being that it was already late in the day, and we were but a couple hours away from sunset, we opted to turn around and head back to the gravel parking lot below. I think the hike was a bit anti-climatic for my sister as she is used to conquering hikes of much steeper grades and greater distances. At this juncture, I was just thinking about the rest of my sandwich, which sat lonely in my back pack. Just as I was about to put my beloved sandwich to my mouth, my sister interjected, “Are you sure you want to eat that? We still need to run!” “Oh yeah,” I thought “I did agree to run, and I really should keep my lazy butt in shape, but eating sounds SO good right now.” Poor sandwich. Poor me. So close, yet so far away. Oh, to think of what we could have been, sandwich and I.

So, yeah, it was actually a very beautiful run along the lake. I am quite happy to say that all that tread milling at the health club over the last four months paid off. The more you run, the easier it gets. I struggle to confess it out loud, but sometimes, I actually like to run. Yeah, crazy, huh? But, I also like sandwiches. I’ve actually always liked sandwiches, and I’m not afraid to say that. Anyways, I think we ran about forty five minutes or an hour. Besides the fact that I didn’t have a watch, it was difficult to gauge the length of our work out as my sister had to stop and pee in the woods about every ten minutes. Click here to see the video.

After our run, we drove back to Munich and my sister composed a tasty salmon salad with a side of brussel sprouts (which I wasn’t terribly fond of) and I ate like a famished refugee who had scaled a mountain, all to discover that he was locked out of his hut.

You won’t want to miss day three as we travel to Austria to visit castles, do stunts in the car, and thoroughly embarrass ourselves at a nude spa. All in the next edition of “To Bavaria and Beyond.”