Wiant Family Adventure 2005...as told by Tina Hechler

So, every day with the Wiants in beautiful Garmisch-Partenkirchen must involve some level of physical activity. Now, I have no problem with physical activity, but when someone is so insistent upon it, I get kind of rebellious. I also don't feel the need to do six-hour treks on a regular basis, but that's another issue. Let's talk about today.

There had been mention last night about going on some kind of a hike today. That was no surprise, because there is mention every night about going on some kind of a hike. We all packed up at around noon today (Susi, Jonathan, Tanja, Tina, Andreas, Charlotte , Dios the dog, and babies Ryan and Isabella). After about a fifteen minute drive on a narrow road, we arrived at “the highest village in Germany .” Now, there is no public parking in this beautiful village, but Susi has an acquaintance who lives there, so we politely parked our van in their driveway and left a note scrawled on a piece of cardboard.

So, Ryan and Bella were deposited into backpacks, water bottles and bags were assembled, and we were ready to head out. Jonathan commented that we had too many water bottles, so we left one behind. He said it was only a twenty-five minute hike. After about only 2-3 minutes of walking, we came to a quaint restaurant. I was behind with the kids, but I saw Susi ask the waiter for directions to Elmauer Alm, our destination. I saw him pointing in the direction from which we had just come, and then I saw Jonathan continue to walk in the same “wrong” direction. When I queried Susi about why we were walking the wrong way, she said we were going on a “Wiant family adventure.” Ooookay…

After only about twenty yards or so, we came to a gate. Now, I see a gate and think “private property,” but I think Jono sees a gate and thinks “Ooh! Adventure inside!” The next thing I knew, we were avoiding cowpies and trying to avoid eye contact with the gigantic horned cows (NOT bulls, I was told) that seemed to become quite restless in our presence.

In the interest of time, I will cut a few details here, but suffice to say there was a frog Andreas insisted on keeping in a cassette case and lots of mud to avoid. The kids also needed lots of “encouragement” to keep on moving up the trail we were forging.

Then we came to a barbed wire fence, and this is where it starts to get REALLY interesting. Now, again, when I see barbed wire, I think “go back,” but I think the Wiants get excited: “Cool! We’re going where no man has gone before!” As they started discussing how to negotiate barbed wire with two babies, two small children, and a dog, a man straight out of Deliverance appeared to offer us some helpful advice: If we would continue to traverse along the barbed wire fence across a river and up the hill (of course without a trail), we would come to a spot where we could cross the barbed wire. This should have put me at ease, right? The only problem was that somewhere in his Bavarian German that I could not fully understand I heard the word “dangerous.” Were we deterred? Did we turn back? Of course not!

So, we found this ladder-like spot where there was no barbed wire, and we all crossed into a beautiful meadow with ease. It was a really tranquil spot, like something out of The Sound of Music—without the whole war element, even. Then I looked to my right, and I saw an entire flock of sheep RUNNING down the hill toward Jonathan and Dios. Now, I know they aren’t carnivorous or anything, but they were RUNNING toward us. All of them! And these were not small sheep. Tanja and I apparently were not the only ones spooked by this, because Dios also ran away from them. With relief, I saw that the sheep all stopped running and simply crowded around Jonathan and Susi. (Incidentally, I now completely understand why followers are called “sheep.” All it took was for one of them to take off down the hill, and all but one followed. And no, the one that stayed behind was not black.)

I was just starting to relax a little when the action started on my left. I saw two donkeys come barelling toward us, and then Tanja said that the Deliverance man had mentioned the Donkey was mean—hence the “dangerous” I’d heard. Sure enough, the donkey began chasing after Dios, who had dared to cross into his territory. I’m not sure what was worse: the sight of poor Dios running as a donkey tried to ensnare him in its front hooves, or Susi’s bloodcurdling screams of “Oh my God!” “Ahhh!” and “Do something!” When I looked away, sure Dios was about to meet his maker, the donkey had indeed caught Dios between its front hooves. I am told that this was followed by a firm bite to the rear and an attempt to kick him with the back legs. The next time I looked, Dios was trying to fit his massive head through a small hole in the fence, and Jonathan was running toward the scene with what can best be described as a small log. I looked away again, and I am told that Jono then picked up Dios and somehow heaved him over the barbed wire on the other side of the tranquil (cough, cough) meadow.

Everyone breathed a major sigh of relief and began to traverse the ladder on the other side of the meadow. As I waited for my chance to cross, I suddenly saw the large, vicious, angry donkey barreling toward me. With my usual killer fight or flight instincts, what did I do? I basically froze and cried out, “What do I do?” It was only then that I discovered that the thin yellow ribbon separating me from the angry ass was actually an electric fence. Phew!

Once my blood pressure returned to normal, we all continued on our journey. We actually found some semblance of a trail that we followed to a fire road! At this point, I felt relief: Surely our adventures were over.

Except, of course, they weren’t. Jonathan explained that the fire road had come to an end, and he pointed up a ravine. THAT was where we needed to go. This was not some small little hill. It was at an angle where if your footing was off, you could easily slip. Now, I don’t mind a little climbing, but: 1) it was muddy; 2) my sneakers offer as much traction and support as a pair of Keds; 3) we were traveling with two babies in backpacks. There’s nothing quite like watching one’s sister lunge into near-splits with a twenty-pound child on her back as she makes her way up a 45 degree angle.

Everything that happened after that was pretty tame in comparison, and I must say that the sights were spectacular. Jonathan has assured me that he was never lost, but I’d have to say this was one for the memory books!

Oh, and that 25-minute hike? It was more like two hours up and one back! ;)