A long hike from the Jenner
It was one of our first holiday days and around thirty-four degrees, when I walked down from the Jenner in southern Germany with my daughter. Because of the heat, we had been wise enough to be transported up the Jennerbahn and there we had enjoyed the breathtaking view of the Königssee.
Relaxed, and supplied with plenty of drinking water, we began the return journey. We discussed our wishes for the coming days: a visit to the Kehlsteinhaus, which Hitler received as a present on his 50th birthday, and hiking to the Watzmannhaus on the impressive Watzmann. We stopped frequently to photograph all the beauty around us, but as we approached the Mittelstation, the greatest enthusiasm had subsided. The sun was beating down, our water bottles were almost empty, and we decided to have a drink at a little restaurant. After two large cups of tea, we felt refreshed for the rest of the journey. For a moment, we considered having the Jennerbahn take us back, but rest and tea had done us good and we thought that the second half could not last very long. Unfortunately, we were wrong. Moreover, we also accidentally chose a diversion. The heat began to get heavier and heavier, and muscles and feet protested. We lost sight of the view but fixated on the car park at the Königssee, where my car was parked. We kept peering hopefully into the valley to see if we were approaching the parking lot, but shining in the sun, the cars remained toy-sized for a tauntingly long time. When we finally sat dead tired in my precious little Twingo, we couldn't say anything anymore. That evening, we lacked the courage to go to dinner in the village. We helped ourselves with two packets of cup-a-soup and went to bed very early. Getting up refreshed the next day was out of the question. On the contrary: every muscle protested. Groaning, we descended the stairs of our guesthouse for breakfast. Later in the day, we tried another hike to Berchtesgaden. Again, temperatures had risen to tropical heights and we were glad to be back. Our overworked muscles made it quite difficult for us in the following days. We did not talk about the Kehlsteinhaus and the Watzmann anymore. The moral of this story: pride comes before a fall, but overconfidence does not fare much better.
