Der Schöckl

Yesterday morning I got up, had breakfast, buzzed my mouthpiece for a little while, and headed over a little early to my 8:10 German class...as usual. The previous night had been a late one for most and I expected the rest of the class to shuffle in a couple minutes late--bleary eyed and bed rumpled. I sat at my desk and watched the clock: 8:09...8:11...8:13...that's weird, not even the teacher is here yet...I wonder if class was cancelled and I just missed the announcement. I walked over to the window and looked down at the street hoping to see some people making their way to school. At about 8:15 my teacher Rebecca walked through the door with a cheery "Wie gehts" (how are you).

For the next few minutes it was just the two of us and she asked me, auf Deutsch of course (she only rarely speaks in English during our classes), if I had any plans for the weekend. I responded, as much auf Deutsch as I could of course, that I had wanted to go hiking, but the weather was bad, and I hadn't found anyone to go with. She sympathized a while and then asked where I'd wanted to go. "Ich weiss nicht," I said "Veleicht der Schöckl?"

Der Schöckl is a high plateau a few miles outside of Graz that I'd heard offered decent hiking and is easily accessible by bus. Rebecca responded that her daughter wanted to go back to the Schöckl as well and was equally upset that the threat of rain was spoiling any hope of fun. She said that if the weather cleared over the weekend, she and her family (who are all staying together at the Heim this summer) would make the trip and that I'd be welcome to come along. I thanked her for the invitation and settled back into my seat as finally around 8:30 a few more students began to trickle in.

Later that morning as I did the rest of my warm up/technical routine in one of the classrooms at the Elisabethschule, I watched as the clouds slowly began to dissipate, and by noon the sky was a glorious blue flecked with big billowy clouds...a perfect day for a hike. As I was on my way out of the cafeteria after lunch I ran into Rebecca again purely by chance. She approached me and excitedly said her husband was on his way to rent a car and that I'd still be welcome to join them for a day atop the Schöckl. How could I say no?

Our hike began at the parking lot outside the tram station. After a short debate about whether or not we should hike up and ride down (favored by the three adults), or ride up and hike down (favored by her 9 year old Adel) we gathered our things and headed out. Rebecca explained that Wandern (hiking) plays a huge roll in Austrian culture even to this day and that the whole of the country is crisscrossed by well-marked trails maintained by the Österreichischer Alpenverein (the Austrian Alpine Club). It is possible, she said, to hike for thousands of miles following mountain trails and camp each night within little backcountry huts set up at regular intervals along the way for just that purpose.

The hike up was only moderately steep and punctuated by increasingly lovely views of the valley below glimpsed through breaks in dense foliage. I can't say frequently enough how ideal the day was--slightly warm, cool breeze, clean air--and there were a number of other folks out on the trail. Each meeting would pass with a friendly "Gruss Gott:" the most common Austrian "hello," which I think means something like "God bless." The air was humming with friendly pollinators and at one point a young red deer paused in its wary wanderings and looked straight at us--posing for a few seconds between two stands of timber as though in a picture frame. I had no time to snap a photo and didn't want to spoil the magic of the moment by trying, but remembered the scene well enough to sketch it later as part of a thank you note I made for Rebecca.

We made it to the top in about an hour and 1/2 and were rewarded for our efforts by indulging in cold drinks and hot apple strudel...not the typical fare one finds at the end of a hike, but hey, as long as it's there...

The track you see below the restaurant is a portion of the Hexenexpress (witch's express): the gravity-powered alpine roller coaster that provided the primary impetus for Adel to endure all the hiking (more on that later).

Here is the killer view we had while eating freshly baked apple strudel...it just doesn't get any better than this...

The little goose bump of a "mountain" you see near the bottom middle of this picture is the Graz Schlossberg. When you're in the middle of town it seems so big, but from up here it appears almost comically insignificant.

After refreshing ourselves it was time for a roller coaster ride. Each car is individually controlled by its occupant--you have the breaks and can go as fast or as slow as you want (though if you poke around too much you might upset the wild 12-year-old behind you who is trying to sail through the whole thing without hitting the breaks once). I'm not much of an adrenaline junky and will admit to feeling a certain amount of trepidation, but Rebecca reassured me and said that if it were too scary she wouldn't be doing it either. Adel however showed no such qualms and was nearly jumping up and down waiting for her turn.

Rebecca, her husband, and Adel all went before me and I was left on the side of the tracks with butterflies in my stomach and a bunch of impatient kids behind me. I strapped on my seatbelt and nervously let go of the brakes. My car jerked a few times on the way out of the gate as I got the feel of it and figured out that it actually took more effort to remove the brake than it did to apply it...a great comfort as I approached the first big turn and felt for a moment like the contraption was about to launch me straight out over the valley below...

Rebecca's most anticipated part of the excursion was walking over to the other side of the mountain and checking in on "her cows." We ambled through fences and over some beautifully-strange boulder-strewn fields. I loved this little park bench and imagined how pleasant it would be to sit there with Rob and watch the day tick away...

We approached the opposite slope and were stunned by the view. Even Rebecca said this was the clearest she's seen things up here. I am always frustrated by the inability of photos to ever really capture the feeling and perspectives of a place--or maybe I'm just not gifted enough to capture it--but please believe me that this was one of the most arresting landscape panoramas I've ever seen. Johannes Kepler climbed the Schöckl in 1601 in order to measure the curvature of the earth, and though making such a measurement must have been a challenge with all the rolling terrain, I can't imagine reaching a better vantage. With mountains on one side and the Hungarian plain stretching east on the other the view is simply stunning...

As the four of us wandered, transfixed by the loveliness around us, the sound of distant cow bells wafted in on the breeze and we soon found the little herd chewing their cud and basking lazily in the golden light of afternoon. I could scarcely believe it...milk cows...with cute little decorated bells hanging from their necks...at the top of a mountain. It was so...Heidi.

These must be the luckiest creatures on the planet! Living the life in a virtual bovine penthouse...

Nearby stood the Schöckl Kreuz--one of the many crosses throughout Austria that mark the highest point of the local terrain...

...and a man meticulously assembled his glider in preparation for a late afternoon launch.

I walked over to the launch site--a descending walkway of wooden planks leading straight off the side of the mountain. There was a stiff chilly breeze and as I peered down the length of the launch I got a touch of vertigo and felt for a thrilling moment that I might easily slide off the face of the mountain and float off above the hills below...

As the afternoon wound down my companions and I took the tram back down to the parking area. I couldn't thank Rebecca enough for giving me what she called, "the intensive German II experience," and spent the remainder of the evening sketching her a thank you card.