ADVENTURE | TRAVEL | CHILDREN

When Tiny Feet Climb Across Roots and Boulders

A mother and son hike in the forest

Photo by author

As soon as we stepped into the forest, a chill ran down my spine. The temperature dropped from an unbearable heat from hot summer rays burning down on us to cooling and fresh spring feelings. I didn’t expect that, even though I had hoped for more pleasant temperatures in the forest.

What I messed up in my first year of motherhood, I try to do better in my second year. Work and money will come and go, but to spend time with my son growing up from a newborn to an infant, a toddler, and into childhood is a once-in-a-lifetime chance.

Live it with him.

I told myself.

And so now, while I’m still a mom working full-time or not, whatever you might call it, I set rules, I take off and shift my focus from money and work to him and me.

I surely don’t have typical working hours. My working week starts on Thursday afternoon and finishes on Monday evening. On weekends I’m often busy for 10-13 hours. It’s seasonal too. Some months provide more work, while in others I have more free time and use it to travel.

I’m a skydiving instructor (if you’re new here).

And to come back to my entry statement, I now try to take one weekend a month off to save energy (because my work is physically and mentally draining, and to put that energy into spending time with my son.

This was one of those weekends. Yesterday, we spent the morning at the public swimming pool in town. Today, I decided that we should do something more physically challenging. It’s summer in Germany, and while the temperatures have provided us with a lovely summer so far, I did look for a cooler climate for a hike.

If I say we went to a “canyon,” you will immediately think of barren land and death zones like the Grand Canyon or its Namibian follow-up, the Fish River Canyon. But there are more versions of a canyon. They might be a fraction of the size of the world’s largest, but they include just as impressive ecosystems. Like those here in central Germany.

I chose the “wolf’s canyon” for this Sunday hike and wondered if the wolf resettled here too, as he has in some areas of the country. Taking Eric, my almost two-year-old, out of the car seat, he lets out a sigh of suffering, feeling the heat from the concrete and the loud noise of the busy road we just turned off. I didn’t even bother making him walk and swung him onto my back and into the carrier. He’ll get to walk soon enough.

After a few steps walking next to the road, I notice the sign indicating the start of the hike to my left and turn off, passing some charming half-timbered typical German homes before descending underneath the railway bridge.

On the other side of the bridge, I arrive in the forest, and from that moment, I feel like the temperature dropped by at least 15 degrees (Celsius). Does anyone still need to advocate for the forests in our world? Just enter one on a hot summer day, and you’ll understand its role on our planet and its value immediately.

Burg Zwingenburg. | Photo credits: Anne Bonfert

This is when I decide to put Eric onto the ground. The noise of the busy road is suddenly drowned by birds chirping, insects buzzing around and the soft sound of a small brooklet flowing down the gorge. Eric’s interest in his surroundings sparks immediately, and he points in all directions, following the forest noise, making “woow”, “da,” and “bzzzz” sounds himself.

It takes a few minutes before I can motivate him to follow the path ahead and stop looking all around. Mentioning water and some boulders to climb on, he quickly moves his tiny feet up the forest floor and we soon pass the old castle on our right, a left-over shelter from the 13th century.

The path is still high up on the slopes of the canyon, only allowing us to hear the water trickling below without a chance to spot the liquid due to the density of the vegetation.

Climbing across large and small rocks and stepping over roots, Eric’s eyes are filled with joy while his tiny body is performing a high-intensity sport. Fallen logs become his favorite sight. Seeing them excites his mind, and while he needed some guidance on climbing across, he often quickly sneaks underneath them and continues with the path ahead.

The toddler on the trail which was written as not suitable for children under five years. | Photo credits: Anne Bonfert

As it’s a Sunday, many people pass us on the trail because, remember, we are moving at a toddler pace. But this does not bother me as I’ve long learned the goal of hiking isn’t to reach your destination as quickly as possible but to appreciate the journey along.

So, here we are. The path is now touching the river and Eric goes straight for the water. While my mind is still debating whether I should take his shoes off and let him play barefoot in the cooling brooklet, he already happily splashes in his shoes in the water. Whatever, they’ll dry in no time in this weather, I tell myself, and let him walk up the river.

Stumbling is part of the learning process. | Photo credit: Anne Bonfert

A father and mother pass us and Eric looks up onto the dad’s shoulders where a toddler, just a little older than Eric, sits comfortably inside a hiking backpack. “Too bad for you,” I tell my son, “this kid is luckier and doesn’t have to walk himself”. While silently knowing that Eric doesn’t experience this as punishment but as joy throughout. We exchange a few pleasantries before the family marches ahead and we continue moving at Eric’s pace.

A beetle now stopped Eric in his tracks. Eric bends down and points at the tiny creature in the middle of the path. He then picks him up and places him in the bushes next to the trail. He might have squashed him a little but the thought counts. And I begin to wonder if I have done that with insects knowing he’s copying everything I do. I must have.

Noticing a beetle on the path and helping him across the heavily trafficked trail. | Photo credit: Anne Bonfert

A small waterfall ahead is making a lot of noise, drowning out the wind blowing through the forest canopy and the squeal of some birds fighting above. Eric’s finger points straight at the falling water while his eyes move down onto the path where water created a slippery trail across rocks. I confirm his statement “You’re right, you have to walk slowly over the wet rocks.”

More challenging trail passages with “boulder bridge” in the image on the right. | Photo credits: Anne Bonfert

We cross a bridge which is not more than a large, flat boulder placed over the brooklet, and I notice how Eric’s energy is dwindling as he tries to distract me from walking ahead, pointing at all different things in the forest around us.

I show Eric another fallen log and tell him we’ll make a break, eat and drink something over there, and get him to move to that exact spot. Sitting down, Eric immediately regulates his breathing but takes no more than a sip of water.

Observing a few hikers move past, including a couple with their dog, I pack up our few belongings back into the backpack and swing Eric into the carrier on my back, who begins to happily chat about and comment on whatever we walk past.

I remember I should have taken hiking poles for the path down, as I’m always more stable with those in my hands, which is important, especially when carrying another human. But I consider taking a different route down as there are always mellow forest trails leading through these woods which would be a great option as there’s no need to hike down this steep canyon path.

A forest oasis on hot summer days. | Photo credit: Anne Bonfert

Reaching the top entry of the “wolf canyon,” I read the signboard again, which warns you about the difficulty of the trail, saying “this is not a leisure forest trail” and tells the hiker to bring experience in difficult trails and wear appropriate equipment. I smile at it as Eric has just about a year of experience in walking on this Earth but he mastered more than half of the trail before tiring out.

Turning right, I follow a random forest road down the mountain while noticing Eric resting his head on my back. I believe this hike tired him out more than I thought it would.

Just before reaching the castle again, I run into the parents from earlier. “You made it too”. “Yes, we made it,” I respond,” smiling. “How far did he walk?” the mother asks while pointing at Eric. “More than halfway up the canyon”, I respond in a proud voice. She adds that they “tried” letting their girl walk up here a little. It didn’t sound like she walked much. Which is also fine. I want to tell them that kids need challenging terrain and interesting spots for motivation, but I decide to rather say “she looks tired now, too”. The mom quickly adds” Yes, she usually sleeps by 11:30 am, but now on holiday, we sometimes move the nap time a little. She’ll sleep now in the car.” We say goodbye and walk somehow differently the last few hundred meters to the car park. At this point, I didn’t even notice it was just before 12.

Losing myself in my thoughts, I start to think about how different our two motherhoods must be. Eric naps anywhere between 11 am and 3 pm. With surrounding temperatures between 14 and 34 degrees in his room/sleeping space. Between 30 minutes and 2 hours long. A fixed nap schedule wouldn’t work for us. But here, this mom points out how her little girl is 20 minutes past nap time, making me wonder if that was a joke. Needing to keep such a strict schedule would stress me out like hell and would restrict my lifestyle too. But luckily, it only has to work for them.

Eric falls asleep as soon as I drive off from the car park. He only naps for the short twenty-minute ride home before he wakes up and shares his excitement with dad. That wasn’t enough sleep after all that exercise, but so what? We will keep it slower this afternoon.

This was surely not my last time visiting this lovely canyon.