Orenberg

Willingen (51.291708 | 8.620968)

Reconciled opposites

Heid-covered summit with sweeping views over Willingen.

"Two paths presented themselves to me in the forest/ I chose the one that was least trodden." Robert Frost's lines come to mind as I stand on the outskirts of Willingen. To get to the Orenberg, you have the choice between two very different paths. One is easy, leading gently up past the practice hill in a wide northern curve. The other is more challenging, starting a little to the south of the ski jump and climbing steeply up a path that is less frequented.

My recommendation: opt for the uncomfortable, you won't regret it. You can reserve the other route for a leisurely way back.

After just a few steps into the shadows of the Buchenwald, you'll probably see what I mean. There are no trees on the slope above you, there are mythical creatures lining the path. As you puff up, slowly putting one foot in front of the other, stories might come to mind, dramas, movie titles: The one who pulls his hair out. The secret of Medusa. Durga, goddess with 18 arms. Bent by the wind. Titans. The last dance.

Soon the gradient flattens out. The path makes itself interesting with a few final undulations. You have to duck your head at a low plant gate, a few more steps and then you reach the high plateau. One look down and you'll probably realize why this is Willingen's local mountain. From here, you can overlook the whole town. The houses are close enough - only 150 meters separate the valley floor from the summit - to see every detail, far enough away to read in Willingen's soft landscape what the past has left to the present and where the future is heading. The invariably gray slate roofs have only existed since the great fire of 1847, when the flames ate their way from wooden roof to wooden roof.

At the bottom of the main road is the Alte Post, where the last coach stopped in 1917. It made way for the railroad, and an elegant viaduct was built 100 meters to the south. With the railroad connection came the guests, in 1934 the title of climatic health resort, guesthouses and hotels were built. The largest of them, the Sauerland-Stern, is easily recognizable from up here. Once notorious for excessive bowling club eroticism, families and conferences now prefer to come here. On the slopes opposite are the ski lift tracks, popular with skiers in winter and mountain bikers in summer. The houses and sports facilities below me seem like words connected by streets to form sentences, telling of a town that obviously knows how to seize opportunities.

Now comes the decisive twist. If you turn 180 degrees and walk a few steps, you are suddenly in a completely different world. Hardly any sounds. The heather bushes are flat, the land is flat, you can see as far as the Osterkopf in the east, whose yellowish, almost treeless hilltop is reminiscent of Tuscan hills. As the direction of the view changes, so does the pace. Everything slows down. Hikers stroll between the purple dwarf shrubs, the wind holds its breath, butterflies seem to fly in slow motion. A different world that lives to its own beat, something between adagio and largo. What a contrast to the almost urban bustle on the other side!

Nothing symbolizes these contrasts as much as the summit cross. A QR code is attached at eye level. An icon of the digital age is stuck to the Christian symbol. QR stands for "quick response" in German. The Savior also promises answers, albeit not necessarily in a hurry. To read one code, you need an app and the internet; for the other, an open heart is enough. The black and white pattern stands for the blessings of modernity, the cross blesses the city. A reconciliation, 702 meters above the sea.

And you, hiker, ready for the descent? Perhaps you will take some of the blessed peace down with you. When you reach the bottom, you wait a while before you go back online. You might enter the city more leisurely than you left it: as a flâneur to the beat of the Otherworld.

Author: Michael Gleich