I have to admit that I had been dreading this day. When I had hiked the final stage of the Eifelsteig a year before, the final approach to Trier had been a nightmare. One of my feet was badly blistered, it was a 36-km day and there was one section, the descent to Biewer, that was little more than a mud slide and a frayed rope. The idea of having to climb back up that this year had been giving me the chills for weeks.
Trier was just stirring when I set off at 8. I’d managed to get a good night’s sleep at the hostel where everyone had respected the 10 PM silence rule. The sky was perfect blue and it was going to be another glorious day.
As I crossed back over the Moselle to reach the start of the trail, I had a great view of the sandstone cliffs above the river that the. Moselsteig would be following and where I had suffered so much one year before.
As I set off along the trail, I quickly began to realize that my memories of the clifftop walk had been darkened by the pain and exhaustion of that day. It was in fact a wonderful section of trail, closely following the edge of the cliffs with terrific views back to Trier and over the river below. True, there were a couple of steep sections that were probably hell a year before but that were nothing to write home about this time. But that still left the Biewer mudslide.
As I made my way along this beautiful path, I had an encounter with an unidentified animal. Something low and dark suddenly raced across the path ahead of me. Too big to be a squirrel, too low to the ground to be a young wild boar, too dark to be a fox, without the mask of a polecat, I suspect it was either a wild cat or a pine marten. Unfortunately, the damned thing moved too quickly to get a clear view of it.
There were more people on the trail today and just before Biewer I stopped to let a group of Dutch hikers pass. There were about forty of them, mostly in their seventies. I don’t know where they had started from but it was still fairly early and they seemed nice and fresh so I suspected they had been dropped by bus in Biewer.
And so to Biewer and its mudslide. To my pleasant surprise, things had changed a lot in a year. Steps had now been set into the steep slope and handrails had been put in place. It was still a steep climb up out of the village, but a lot easier than with just a frayed rope for help.
Since leaving Trier, I had been walking back along the trail that I had done one year earlier on the final day of the Eifelsteig. I recognized the bench where I had rested before the final 6 km into Trier, but not the intersection of the two trails.
There was nothing very remarkable about the day once the climb out of Biewer was done. I was once again walking in beautiful woods all the way to Ehrang. Just before arriving in that village, there was a viewpoint over the valley that revealed a huge amount of industrial activity around the town of Kenn on the other bank.
The trail descended to Ehrang and there was another steep climb out of that village, along a path that passed through the old town walls. The climb led to a small chapel and was lined with the stations of the cross, which allowed me to discover that there are in fact 14 of them and not 10 as I initially thought. That’s what you get for not being brought up a Catholic, I guess.
After this steep climb, the trail descended to the village of Quint. There was a no-entry sign and a barrier across the path at one point, but I decided to ignore it as a detour would have been way too long. it turned out that a wall had collapsed above the railway line, but it had clearly happened some time before and it was easy to climb over.
The trail then returned to the woods. Shortly after, I was surprised to find a section 2 km long that had been adapted for wheelchair users. There was a large car park with spaces set aside for the disabled and the 2-km trail allowed people to discover all the different kinds of trees growing in the forest. I had never seen anything like this before, and I was impressed by the efforts made to allow the disabled to get out into the woods.
From there, it was a long and gentle descent to Schweich. As for the arrival in Trier the day before, the trail had been designed to shelter hikers from the traffic around this fairly large town. It led through a series of pleasant parks that seemed to follow the old town walls. And it led me straight to the local bakery, where a fine slice of German cake and tea were my reward for completing the day’s trail.
The hotel in Schweich was a great little place with a terrific restaurant next door that served up a tasty dish of black pudding called Himmel und Erde, literally heaven and earth. Heaven for the stewed apples served with the black pudding and earth for the delicious mashed potatoes on which it reposed. I was definitely in heaven as I devoured it.
Footsteps 