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Distance: | 40-50 miles depending on how you book it. |
| Difficulty: | Moderate |
Way-marking:
| There are a lot of twists and turns on small lanes at the beginning, but otherwise this is an easy route to follow. |
| Trails: | Mostly mountain paths and lanes.
| Lodging Styles:
| Upscale German Inns. Take at least a nice shirt and clean khaki pants for dinner.
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| Best Season: | Summer and early Fall
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Highlights:
| Luggage transfer available for a lovely region of Germany. Very good lodging.
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Large hip-roofed barns were what caught my eye as we began a 6-day walking trip from the lakeside village of Titisee.  Here in the extreme southwest corner of Germany is the Schwarzwald, known to us as the Black Forest. Large prosperous farms in spotless order sit among grassy hillsides and “Hansel and Gretel” forest. It’s a land of heavy wooden chalets and cookoo clocks; it’s Germany at it’s very best. And here abounds some of the finest and oldest walking trails in Europe.
This was the first time we had used a luggage transfer company which not only took our extra baggage to the next night’s destination, but booked all the lodging, making this an easy trip to prepare for. You arrive each afternoon with your pack, take it easy before a gourmet dinner, go to bed, get up and have breakfast, then, leaving your roller at the desk, pick up your daypack and walk out the door.
October provided perfect hiking weather with comfortable days and chilly nights. Dirt logging roads, small country lanes, and mountain footpaths made up the route which purposely connected lodge to lodge. Unlike many other paths, where our accommodations were mostly small B&B establishments or a few rooms above the pub, these were upscale inns with large rooms, lots of amenities, and well-dressed guests. For dinner, we were careful to wear our best “evening clothes” or at least tried to get out most of the wrinkles.
Dining rooms were romantic with low beams, soft lighting, and tables set in separate corners, lending a sense of privacy. If you love to eat, this is the place. The smell of heavy sauces simmering over large cuts of pork and beef permeated the air as large helpings of Saurbraten, home-made spatzle, and fried potatoes were delivered around the room. There’s no feeling of guilt for the long-distance walker. We need to eat. As David always likes to say– it’s all in the rewards.
Our one exception to wonderful lodging was the Feldbergerhof, a large non-descript hotel located at the base of the Feldberg ski lift. It is part of a chain of Fam-Hotels which caters to young families and comes complete with Jungle Jims in the buffet dining room, a basketball court, gigantic swimming pool, and various other activities to entertain the kids. Worse yet, we arrived on a holiday week-end. Small cars packed the parking lot as families clamored to unload groceries, toys, and German-style Pampers. The chaos continued in the lobby. Oh well, you can stand anything for one night, right? We escaped the noisy buffet, opting for a quiet pizzeria down the road, returning after dark. In the morning at breakfast, as we made ready our quick departure, we began to take notice of our surroundings. Young couples sat in small groups around the tables while jelly-faced toddlers carried plates of eggs and oatmeal, much of it spilling on the floor. We watched in silence, both deep in thought. Was this Germany? It might well have been Estes Park or any other American resort town on Memorial Day week-end. Here were the hopes and dreams of young families with only the week-ends and holidays at their disposal. Here was common ground, a wonderful by-product for the American walker.
Be sure to learn some of the local language. Even a few basics will be helpful as well as appreciated. Unfortunately, on our trip I did not take this advice. On our second day at breakfast, the middle-aged woman who took care of bringing us the coffee, asked in German a question which later I realized was something about an egg. Between her accent and my jetlag, I just couldn’t get it. I did, however, understand her perfectly as she impatiently walked away in a huff and muttered, “ugh, those Italians!”
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