Fritz-Putz-Hütte

561

One weekend, my roommates and I went with our friend, Marius, out to see Neuschwanstein. I can remember standing on the Marienbrücke among all the tourists snapping photos of Ludwig's most famous castle. It was while I was one of three looking back at the mountains behind the masses that I made up my mind to go up there. ...continued below

Säuling as seen from Neuschwanstein.

Hiking up around Säuling to the Fritz-Putz-Hütte.

Zundekopf from below.

Hiking up to Zundekopf.

The view from Zundekopf.

Another view from Zundekopf.

The view from Dürrenberg over Reutte, Austria.

Hiking back down to the Hütte.

The Verein and I on Säuling.

Neuschwanstein from Säuling.

On Säuling.

With the Verein and the birds on Säuling.

On Säuling, facing Reutte, Austria

Hiking back down Säuling. On the Austrian side.

Georg Bähr's photo of Neuschwanstein from Säuling.

Another weekend, I stopped at an outdoor supply shop in Thalkirchen while in München where I picked up a backpack, a map, and a few other things. I took off after work one Thursday and bought a special-fare train ticket that would allow me to ride unlimited in Bavaria up until 6pm. At the Hauptbahnhof in München, I had hardly any time to run from the middle of the station to the other end. As I was approaching the train, I could see a conductor signaling toward me that the train was leaving. I ran faster, and all of a sudden, several of my tent poles slid out of a newly-ripped hole in the nylon tent-bag. Frantically gathering my tent-poles, I could see the train moving away. I thanked the conductor as I got on with a mass of poles in hand.
I was supposed to switch trains again in Augsburg and catch one that was at landing number _. Looking up, all the landings had big signs with letters, not numbers, indicating which landing it was. Once I found out which train was the one I needed, I walked over to it. and pushed on the door. Nothing happend, so I pulled on the door. Again, nothing. I tried to slide it, but it didn't move. A man on the inside tried to open the door as well. After a couple of minutes of this, the train started to leave with me standing there. The only problem with all this was that the next train was about a couple of hours away, and my ticket would no longer be valid. When the train came back and I got on it, I employed a method my roommates had discovered for traveling by train when we had no money for tickets. The ticket-checker came by and as always, nodded at me, went on, and continued to check other people's tickets.
I had arrived in Füssen much too late to find a good place to pitch my tent. What's more, I wasn't prepared for what I found. I had a skimpy tent from Sam's Club, food for three days, water for three days, a map, compass, and a notebook and pen. But, it was cold, and I had no long-pants except for my flannel pajama bottoms. Hiking around my goal, Säuling, I looked at its face and tried to figure out where the trail led that the map indicated. It looked like a vertical stone wall where the trail I would need should be. I hoped that it was the fading light that made it look so impassable.
In the darkness of the mountains, I saw a lodge and went up to it to see what the rates were. A man answered the door, but told me that it was closed. He then made a phone call to some place. He told the other person that I was an Englander, but they had no place either. He then told me to try out the Fritz-Putz-Hütte while pointing it out to me. I went up and was warmly welcomed.
The lodge was to my liking - rough, but massively thick and solid. Cozy and close-quartered. It belonged to a hiking club with members from around Europe. I enjoyed hanging out with the group, learning bizarre games with coins and hearing two champion yodelers. Best of all, the food was great, the beer was plenty, and the rates were less than the campsite in München. The next day I hiked up to Zundekopf, then over to Dürrenberg where my pen wouldn't write, and then back around and down back to the Hütte. Over dinner and beer that evening, some of the hiking club members who were there for the annual work-week around the Hütte, asked me about my day. I told them where I'd gone and they seemed kind of puzzled. One was sent for a map, but I had mine on me still, so I took it out and showed them where I'd hiked. They told me things like where the names of the mountains come from, and pointed out other mountains that I'd seen from these peaks. They asked what I had planned for the next day, and I told them Säuling. This struck a couple of them who talked amongst themselves for a few minutes and then told me that they were going up Säuling the next day too, and that I should join them.
The next morning, I had packed everything in my pack again because I would be leaving for München straight from the peak of Säuling. The club members would accompany me only part of the way down the mountain while Füssen was on the other side of the mountain from the Fritz-Putz Hütte. From outside the front door, I noticed one of the club members lift my pack to check the weight and then hand it to another member who did the same.
About halfway up the mountain they explained to me that the trip up would be hazardous. There was still snow-melt from the snow that fell the night I arrived, and the trail would be steep. I asked about the rock face that we would have to go around. They chuckled because we weren't going around it, but up it as the map had correctly indicated. Truth be told, there is no way around it, just two routes straight up or down it. They then said seriously that they were guiding me up the mountain to say "Thank-you". I asked what they were thanking me for, and one said "Kakao und Haferflocken". This didn't make any sense - cocoa and oatmeal? I asked again apologizing for not catching it the first time. He repeated, "Kakao und Haferflocken". I was the only English-speaking person, so I had to ask him to explain what he meant, and he did. When he, and several others of the club, was a child after World War II, there was hardly any food availabe. Soon, the Americans began flying over and dropping cocoa and oats out of the planes, and he wanted to thank me for it.