waterfall hiking | Tales from the Hutt

Friday, 26-July-2024

This isn’t your simple boring trail. This was a PREMIUM trail.

Said so on the signs, on Alltrails, and online… so it must be true, right? Right!

What does a “premium” trail mean, you may ask? Well, dear reader, that’s a very astute question! I’m so glad you asked. You see… I have no idea.

Was fun, though.

Kika, visiting in from Poland, and I had come up with a plan – a day of hiking, then a day of hot springs. We perused the options for hikes, and found this absolutely lovely gem of a hike fairly close to Stuttgart – at least, easily accessible by train, which was the key. The adventure was a double-header, thanks to that – not only was it a hike-adventure into the woods, but it was also a train-adventure, giving me one more piece of exposure to this weird European thing called “safe and reliable public transportation”.

I’d gotten slightly used to major rail lines by this point, of course, but the local trains were a different beast – as was navigating them. Thankfully Kika was along for the ride to help me out, and we safely charted our way from Stuttgart, out into the wildlands of Bad Urach. It was a near-thing, with a very closely-caught train, but we made it none-the-less, and soon enough were setting boots to gravel and heading up the trail.

It was gorgeous. Good views, excellent walking, and a mystical quality that’s completely lacking from North American trails.

Not that trails in the States aren’t magical, but… this is different. The trails and views of the Pacific Northwest are the raw power of nature – Rock golems and mountain giants. The trails of Bad Urach were mystical, speaking of the fey, kobolds, and long-lost memories. I mean, just look at the staircase with a waterfall running down it, or the constructed pools and ruins of ancient huts. A castle, lying in rubble, up on a nearby hill. It’s a story of natured tamed, and nature resurgent.

In short – it was magical and lovely.

Monday, 22-July-2024

The day started off rainy, or at least foggy and cloudy, but that’s absolutely no obstacle for excellent adventures… as the views I found at Arbenbach falls prove.

It wasn’t the most auspicious of starts to my second long hike, I’ll admit. I got going a bit late, was feeling tired, and it was cloudy and foggy when I went into town to pick up some breakfast and lunch snacks.

I persevered, though, quickly diving into the trail and picking my way through the minor horde of tourists that was going between the start of my trail and the first of the interesting stops along the way. It was absolutely lovely, as most trails in Zermatt are, and I took full advantage of this first stop. It was a small hamlet of four or five houses called Z’mutt, with two little restaurants in between the clusters of houses. I had a quick cup of coffee… and took the chance to apply a whole slathering of sunscreen in preparation for my ascent.

The sun was strong, the trail steep, and my legs strong.

I forged upward, sweating enough that I ended up cooling down by hiking without my shirt for a bit… a smart decision at the time, it seemed, but one that would bite me in the butt (shoulder, technically) later on… but for the time being, it was a lovely ascent.

I hiked, my poles pounded on the trail, and the sun slowly burned off the clouds and fog surrounding the nearby peaks. The Matterhorn never quite escaped its blanket of cloying mist, but it came close on quite a few occasions – always standing proud and giving simply stunning views to yours truly.

By and by, I made it to Arbenbach falls. They were, unsurprisingly, beautiful and photogenic – absolutely perfect for an afternoon stop for water, electrolytes, and lunch. I sat, I supped, I rested and I appreciated the views. Hikers passed me in both directions, never once noticing the recharging American sitting in the shade of the waterfalls with his book, his sausage roll, and a quickly-emptying pile of waterbottles.

It was… I just can’t even describe. It was glorious, even recounting it now so many weeks later.

The descent was, somehow, equally beautiful as the ascent. More-so, in some cases, as the sunlight stretched toward the horizon and the mountains around me lit up with the glow of golden hour.

I trekked downward, having put on my knee braces as a preventative measure, making good time on my return to Zermatt. I armored up with my shirt, now that the day was cooling off and the sun wasn’t burning down on me quite as intensely, and found myself cruising down the mountain alone… all the previous tourists having headed into town for Fondue or something of the like.

It was quiet, it was lovely, and it was serene. I was serene.