Hut, hut, hut, hike!

We were a motley crew. For four days we hiked, crawled, stumbled and climbed our way through the lush, picturesque scenery of Southern Germany, fueled solely by determination and sweat (and the prospect of more beer at the next mountain hut).

The hike wasn’t just a walk in the Alps either. After camping on Thursday night, we took a short, scenic boat ride to St. Bartholomew in the Berchtesgadener Land district of Bavaria bright and early to begin the journey. For the next five hours we climbed 10 kilometers of steep switchbacks, gaining more than 1,200 meters with 30 pounds of gear strapped on our backs.

Because there were nearly a dozen in our group, we inevitability split into various levels of speed and ability with “team cougar” bringing up the rear. (This would later be memorialized in a song).

The worst of the hiking was over as we reached the Kaerlingerhaus, and the views were absolutely amazing.

Mountain huts are a plenty in the Berchtesgaden. They offer minimalist accommodations - single bed in a room with fellow travelers, complete with pillow and warm blankets. They serve food and drinks and a warm shower for an additional cost (usually three euros for three minutes; freezing cold showers are usually free). The huts are only accessible by foot, so the other travelers you meet are often on a similar journey. 

Day two was relatively low key, but that didn’t make strapping those 30 pounds onto our backs again any easier. We started out early and made it to the next hut in less than three hours.

The scenery was drastically different from the first day. We bouldered our way over a moonscape of sizable white rocks for the seven kilometers, sprinkled with an alarming amount of Lord of the Ring references.

We woke up on day three to torrential downpour and, after accepting the inevitable, trudged 7 kilometers, gaining more than 950 meters of altitude, en route to our next hut. We were climbing through a barren landscape of slippery rocks.

Our small group of six, who became known as “Family von Crap” due to harmonious flatulence, managed to stay together the whole time. We sang as we climbed, attempting to get the most annoying song in everyone’s head. “Never Gonna Give you up,” had the lead with “Mmmm Bop” coming in as a close second, although our rendition of “Day-O” was pretty spot on.

We made it to the Ingolstaedterhaus in a modest three hours and warmed up with schnapps and hot chocolate. This was by far the best night and the best mountain hut. Jeremy and Mike lugged their ukuleles on the hike and this proved to be a fabulous idea. We sat in a circle and jammed all night, singing Johnny Cash songs and serenading the room with a loud, off-key version of “Country Roads.” Everyone sang along. If there is ever a way to win over a room full of Germans, John Denver works every time.

We made friends with the kitchen crew and partied well past our bedtimes.

Waking up Monday morning was bittersweet. As our adventure neared its end, we prepared for the more than 1,900-meter descent before us.

Walking downhill may not be as physically taxing, but it does a number on your knees. It took more than five hours to climb back to our original destination and we were collectively sore and exhausted.

 Jeremy and I agreed that this was one of the best trips we’ve taken this year. The scenery, the sense of accomplishment, the exercise, all was great, but most of all it was the company. Our rag-tag team came together, everyone bringing a unique perspective to the group.

Hiking in close quarters with someone really solidifies a relationship. So does snuggling up next to them in a mountain hut, listening to them snore and watching them cut loose at 1,500 meters up.