The only kind of hike I’m willing to
take these days is, literally, up a trail. And one that recently left my quads fully exercised was in the
Black Forest of Germany, the same place that inspired the famous cake, but far lighter
on cream and heavier on chlorophyll. It was actually my second time there. And for a different reason, too. This time, I was fortunate to hike one section of its
trails, tucked away in Bad Peterstal-Griesbach, a quiet corner of
Baden-Württemberg that offers a layered experience that blends nature, culture,
and quiet discovery.
Bad
Peterstal-Griesbach may not get much attention beyond its name, but it hides
some of the Black Forest’s renowned premium trails, perfectly
maintained pathways winding through pine forests, vineyards, and half-timbered
villages. GPS markers make navigation effortless, and the scenery shifts gently
from canopy shade to rolling hills. Thoughtful benches appear just when your
legs start to ache, making rest stops feel less like defeat. For men in our thirties, it was the right mix of effort and ease. Not too intense, yet satisfying enough to earn a cold drink at the end.
The best part, though, was pausing for lunch by Glaswaldsee, a pristine lake known as the blue eye of the central Northern Black Forest, gleamed in near stillness, bordered by moss and quiet pines, not needing an ounce of grandeur to impress. Formed during the last ice age, it's fed only by rain and melting snow, and reflects the kind of quiet that modern life rarely allows these days. On that day, it shimmered under the midday sun.
On our return to Bad Peterstal-Griesbach, we stopped often at small, unmanned
stalls run on the honesty system, each offering cold Rothaus Pils and regional
schnapps. Every stop felt like a quiet celebration, of simplicity, friendship,
and the kind of beauty you can’t find inside four walls. No cake required. Just
the feeling that, for once, everything was exactly where it should be.
