HAAS

Some journeys you regret on the very first day and it doesn’t get any better on the second or even last day. My ‘Silvester 2018’ trip was such a journey. The Harz is a beautiful nordic mountain range, with an exposed cold and windy summit, large pine forests, deep gorges, romantic restaurants, and - even though most Grimm Brothers’ fairytales were not exactly from the Harz - it is easy to imagine they were once passed on from generation to generation in the deep forests.

I came looking for Waldeinsamkeit - a key concept in German romanticism - but within the romantic framework it is seen as a positive feeling. I just felt loneliness. For three straight days I was haunted by the memory of long lost loves. Maybe I should have avoided people at all, like a hermit. The moment I wandered off path, for a picnic among the pine trees I felt sort of okay, munching on a piece of dried Hirsch (deer meat) and making hot drip coffee for myself. Seeing other people reminded me too much of being single.

Der Gipfel des Nordens

On the first day I hiked from Drei Annen Hohne to the Brocken and back again. A day trip considering the short days of December. At 1142 meters the Brocken is not very high, but being at a latitude relatively close to the North Pole, the climate is brutal. The average temperature on the summit is comparable to the 1600 to 2200 meter zone in Iceland. You can hike up to the Brocken in fair weather only to see the weather change dramatically in the last half an hour before reaching the summit. Most of the year there will be no view at all. The Brocken is hidden in mist for 306 days a year on average. To add to the mystery: between 1961 and 1990 the mountain was a military zone in the former GDR and could not be visited at all.

Blocksberg

In connection with the Brocken witches the mountain is named Blocksberg. As early as 1485 the Brocken was referred to as “Blokkesberghe”, but despite the documented (and very real) 15th to 17th century witch-hunts, the Brocken witches are in essence a modern 19th century fantasy. The first organised Walpurgisnacht on the Brocken dates back to 1896, with only male guests attending. It was really the early 20th century tourist industry, which promoted Walpurgisnacht on the Brocken.

Iced summit of the Brocken. On December 30 it was even too cold for witches. But because of the holidays the tourists did come, in large numbers. I just pointed my camera the other way.

Undated postcard celebrating Walpurgisnacht on the Brocken.

Many pine trees in the Harz are dying because of the bark beetle (Borkenkäfer). While dead pine trees are a sorry sight, it is also a sign that the forests are not diverse enough. In the Harz pine trees have been planted by man for many centuries. T… — Many pine trees in the Harz are dying because of the bark beetle (Borkenkäfer). While dead pine trees are a sorry sight, it is also a sign that the forests are not diverse enough. In the Harz pine trees have been planted by man for many centuries. The trees were a valuable source of timber. As early as the 15th century the bark beetle caused mass mortality of pine trees. When pine trees die, pioneering broad-leaved trees will take their place.

Lunch with local Harzer Käse (not to be confused with Harzkäse) and Schmorwurst.

Teufels Brücke

On my second day I hiked the Bodetal from Thale to Treseburg (population 92) and back. When crossing the Teufels Brücke I would have easily sold my soul in blood in return for love, if I had encountered Mephisto, or even a black poodle. The bridge leads to a ten kilometre long gorge with no escape until Treseburg. Despite my negative feelings on this trip I will certainly find my way back to the Harz. I have a special place in my heart for this ancient mountain range.

Faust und Mephisto im Kerker, 1848. Joseph Fay (1812-1875).

Bodetal (Bode Gorge) home to the wildcat.

In winter you have to ignore the “Achtung Lebensgehar!”-signs. — In winter you have to ignore the “Achtung Lebensgefahr!”-signs.

Hauseigener Glühwein. With drinking too many glasses of this hot and sweet mulled wine the fate of New Year’s Eve 2018 was sealed. I went to bed in my hotel at 7 pm with spinning head. It is starting to feel like a tradition; missing all New Year’s … — *Hauseigener Glühwein*. With drinking too many glasses of this hot and sweet mulled wine the fate of New Year’s Eve 2018 was sealed. I went to bed in my hotel at 7 pm with a spinning head. It is starting to feel like a tradition; missing all New Year’s Eve festivities. Better luck in 2019.