Ein Tag in den Alpen

We, being myself, Molly and a goodly number of other JYM students, went to the Alps last weekend. Originally, the trip was supposed to be on Friday, but a poor forecast pushed that back a day. This bothered me at first as I had planned on attending the AnderArt Festival, a celebration of Munich's diversity through poetry and music and the like, on Saturday, but that stopped being a concern while we were still on the train and still over a half hour from our eventual destination, about the time the Alps first came into view. Autumn had not yet peaked, but the brushing of oranges and yellows and reds on those forests scaling the mountains just made the greens are the richer. And when the forests fail to cover the entire mountain, the bare, ragged rock continues on, sometimes with a layer of snow and always with a brash face that catches such a rich texture of shadows.

Before arriving in Munich, I had gone through these mountains with my grandparents, but these things remained impressive. First of all, you have to keep in mind the whole raised-in-Minnesota thing where anything with more elevation change than a ditch is a big deal. Since then, most of my experience with mountains has been of the Mt. Spokane sort, the ones which, given a few hours, you can summit. The mountains in the Alps are more of the "Here's climbing equipment and a week's supply of rations. I'll see you when you make it back, if you make it back" style, though not completely without mountains you can take on foot as our little excursion proved. In all truth, these mountains are the sort that screw up meteorological systems and have their own clouds.

Our physical journey began in the village of Mittenwald, as Bavarian as my grandparents' hometowns. Classic dark orange tile roofs with the tight peaks, and white exterior walls, perhaps painted with illustrated stories, and almost-black brown trim. We took the trail right out from there. The trail was well-maintained, wide gravel with frequent benches for breaks, and for a while, it followed along a glacier fed stream, which came down in another small waterfall every 150 meters or so and whose water was so clear that it constantly fooled you into thinking it was shallower than it truly was. The summit was great. A large meadow, it allowed you an unimpeded view on every side just by turning and was high enough that you could discern the individual shadows of passing clouds. Really, my only complaint was the weather was too nice, low 70s and sunny. I had been expecting something a little more brutal and brought my fully tricked winter coat. That was slung over my arm within 20 minutes and stayed there for the rest of the trip. Well that and I forgot to bring water or anything to eat. Stupid mistake balanced by the generosity of friends.

Must have been something about that air, fresh and lightly tinged by the scent of fall, that energized me. Literally, I was constantly running up and down on the trail, trying to frame the picture just right without getting too far behind the group or maybe to snap a shot with some of the other hikers. Filled two and a half rolls on that. Too bad I still have yet to find a dark room.

I hear that this was a sort of test run for the JYM Alpine Club, something to give interested people a taste of what is to come and what is expected. Not staying the entire year, I will not be able to complete it, but I bloody well look forward to the next trip.

Später.