Saalfelden Summit, Part 2

Back in Saalfelden, we woke again to the sight of the majestic Alps, towering over everything. The mountains are the narrative, or at least the subtext of most stories in these parts. The towns are picturesque and the people are more than gracious, but the omnipresent peaks are definitely the main event. I couldn't wait to get back into them.

Larry and Klaudia have been telling us - tantalizing us - with tales about a specific hike for years.They knew that Randi and I used to love hiking and camping but since having kids eleven years ago, we've been kinda grounded. Or un-grounded. But here we are, in the Alps, with kids grown older and stronger. It sounded too good to be true, and we were dying to put it all to the test.

We planned a two day trip up and over the entire range behind us. One problem: the famous Austrian mountain house in the middle - where you can cop a cot and score a meal - was all booked up. On top of which, Larry and Klaudia didn't actually have two days. They had to get back in one.

So, we pondered, should we go for it ALL in a single thrust? It became the subject of conversation around the neighborhood for two days. Neighbors, relatives, even the great Pichlmaier, the baker, each weighed in.

This is no mere walk in the woods. This is a grueling 15 mile hike up and down real mountains. We were warned of the perils: straight up for three hours. After five hours, you're at 'do or die'. You must decide if you will to make it across, or turn back. If you press forward, you have to get to the lake at the end of the trail by 6:30, lest you miss the last boat out and stay, subject to the elements.

Pichlmaier the baker said that it couldn't be done. Not by a bunch of NYers. Not by two kids. Not by a family without gear, with borrowed shoes, without mountaineering experience.

Game on.

We arose the next morning at 4am and hit the trail before dawn. Klaudia's plan was a masterpiece of precision. We were to summit the first stage before the sun arose.

Midway up, the casualties began. The angle was too steep, and too long. August was the first to say it: we had bitten off more than we could chew. His legs were already like jello on a trampoline and his gaskets were all blown. He was ready for a medivac.

Still, we made it, arriving at Reimannhaus a mere hour behind schedule. But the plan was in danger on several fronts:

• It was already past 9:30am.

• The sun was up.

• And maybe, just maybe, Pichlmaier was right. I'd underestimated the gig.

We huddled.

Despite 'gentle' encouragement, August fortunately had enough wits to raise the white flag, forcing Randi to abandon off her backcountry dream as well to accompany him off the mountain.

Isaiah, on the other hand, was looking fit.

Were we surprised? This is, afterall, the same kid who hates even to walk to school. But, Isaiah's been known to rise to the occasion. Cresting 'The Thumb', he looked strong as a mountain goat. High above Saalfelden, he devoured a scrambled egg breakfast as we tried to form a plan.

"Isaiah," Klaudia asked. "Can you make it across? Do you even want to even try"

"Let's go," he said.

I learned later that August had a hell of a time getting back down the mountain. Once legs are shot, a four hour descent is torture. But let it be said, he made it down on his own. He climbed a real mountain. Even the neighbors back in town applauded the kid for going up and down in single day. Most kids couldn't, and wouldn't even try.

Exhausted beyond what he had ever known possible, August then passed out and slept the rest of the day.

To the North, the rest of us entered the Steinernmeer as the sun climbed high. A lunar landscape if ever there was one, we relished the downhill pace, and a summer snowball fight to boot. Larry, Klaudia and I felt our knees creaking, but Isaiah kept hammering away, giving us hope that we would actually make it.

Of course, I was carrying spare clothes and emergency supplies just in case. But the kid kept ticking. We strutted through cascading meadows of wildflowers, crossing the German border at 1pm, before sloping down to Fontenssee lake on schedule. I think we'd actually picked up time.

Fontenssee lake is about the same size of Piazza San Marco in Venice, which we'd visited 48 hour earlier, but all comparisons stop there. Set in a hollow, this frigid lake creates a mountaintop weather inversion, rendering this the coldest few acres in Germany. Little can grow around the lake. Even the tree line recedes up the hills, creating a stunning view of the valley.

Arriving at Karlingerhaus, it's clear why, beyond exhaustion, hikers stop here for the night. The weissbier flows freely and the kitchen is fully stocked. (They helicoptered in amenities bi-weekly.)

We rested and ate then set off again, for the final leg of the day.

Isaiah only asked one thing: to have his shoes tied tighter. Because the rest was downhill.

Something glorious happens on a long walk through the wild. I don't know if its the pace, the tranquility, the isolation, the beauty or the scale. Conversations occur that aren't possible elsewhere. The silence is just as precious.

It's a good thing, being out in the wilderness with friends. It's a great thing being there with your son.

We crossed the next mesmerizing ecosystem in an hour flat, before entered the intimidatingly steep Saugasse. Sandwiched between thunderous peaks, the Saugasse is mostly switchback turns, aimed at making the descent manageable.

Isaiah faltered a bit towards the end but I'm proud to say he never really complained. Thirteen hours after we started, after more than 15 miles and the most beautiful hike I've been privileged to in my life, we all made it to the other side.

Larry summarized the day. "Isaiah," he said, without irony, "As far as I'm concerned, today was your Bar Mitzvah."

Back in Saalfelden, cell phones blazed and word spread. Even Pichlmaier, the baker, was impressed.

'The Thumb'; our first destination. You can see Riemannhaus, a full mountain lodge, at the bottom left.

Isaiah summitting The Thumb at dawn.

August, making it the top of his first mountain. And what a doozy it was!

Entering the Steinernmeer, 'The Sea of Rocks', for which the region is named.

After 8 hours, Larry, Isaiah and Klaudia pause at Karlingerhaus to give their feet a break.

Isaiah's Bar Mitzvah photo at the end of the road. "Today, you have become a man."

A sketch of the 15 mile journey to the Konigsee. The white line in the middle is the border between Austria and Germany.