Mummelsee and Hornisgrinde

Mummelsee is a small lake high up in the Black Forest. For some reason the water assembled here, high on the slope of Hornisgrinde mountain, and formed this body of water. In former times this was a really remote location among deep fir forests, often covered in clouds and fog. Thus the lake is shrouded in plenty of myths and legends.

Nowadays it is a hotspot of Black Forest tourism. The panoramic route of B500, Schwarzwaldhochstraße, passes right by the bank of the lake. A hotel and restaurant has been built, and there is a large parking lot with souvenir stalls. The route is particularly popular among motorbikers because of its many bends. Without a car, the lake can best be reached from Baden-Baden on the KVV bus line 245.

Hiking up Hornisgrinde

The lake is not only an attraction in itself, but also the perfect starting point for an easy hike to Hornisgrinde. From there it’s hardly more than half an hour or 45 minutes, depending which trail one takes, to the top of the highest mountain in the Northern Black Forest (1163 metres). “Grinde” is a local word that translates to “bald head”. Many higher peaks in the Black Forest have a Grinde, a “bald” patch without trees, at the top. This mountain has even been named after it.

The exposed ridge bears a radio tower operated by SWR, the regional TV and radio, that transmits various programmes, as well as Telekom’s transmitting tower. Neither is accessible to the public, though. In former times there used to be also military usage. The tall masts are visible from afar in the Upper Rhine plain.

Due to its position close to the Upper Rhine Plain, the views from the top over the wide valley and the hills are amazing. There are even two towers for even better views.

Well, that’s the theory.

Our planning turned out to be less than perfect, though…

Our plans involved the hike to the summit first, then lunch at Mummelsee hotel and a walk round the lake. We arrived by bus via Baden-Baden in the morning. Down in the valley the weather had been nice but Hornisgrinde had her head in the clouds. That meant dense fog. My photos look like late autumn but they were taken in August.

Nevertheless we hiked up. Views were, obviously, close to zero. All of a sudden, the viewing tower emerged from the foggy grey like a ghost. Nobody felt like climbing the tower, though… how come?

The summit of Hornisgrinde is a wide plateau. Due to the many rains it receives – this is one of the wettest places in the whole country - and the water-impermeable rocks underneath, a moor has developed on top of the mountain.

It is a protected nature reserve, and a very interesting one.

Humans are not allowed to walk into the moor (sheep and slugs are allowed in), not only for safety reasons but because a single footstep would cause severe damage which takes many long years to repair, as the moor grows only by one millimetre per year.

A boardwalk leads through the moor, and several information boards explain its development and delicate ecology, the plants and animals, the climate and so on.

The foggy day brings out amazing colours in the grass of the moor.

Sheep and slugs are allowed in

We walked a loop on the summit, following the boardwalk across the moor. The path then lead us back into the forest in downhill direction towards the lake again. Historical borderstones along the path tell of those times when the border between Baden and Württemberg ran over this ridge.

Russell the Wombat enters Württemberg with his front paws while his bum is still in Baden.

We had lunch at the restaurant of Mummelsee hotel. This hotel has suffered a sad fate: A couple of years ago it burned down to the ground. In the meantime it has been rebuilt from scratch and is all new and shiny. The lunch was fine but not too remarkable. Extraordinary, however, was the beer. They serve beer from a small local brewery, and their speciality is Vollmondbier (full moon beer), which they claim to brew at full moon only. I cannot tell whether this is true or an advertising gimmick, and I did not feel any magical effects either, but this is a fine, tasty brown beer that I enjoyed very much.

After lunch, the clouds had lifted. The sun appeared, and the landscape view was wide open. We should have planned our itinerary the other way round… No one felt like doing the hike to the mountain top again, though.

We walked the path round the lake after lunch. This is an easy walk of about 1 km length. We weren’t the only ones, though. The lake is a popular destination, parking lot and path were busy with people. So we hopped on the next bus back to Baden-Baden and then returned home.

Summer landscape view

The Legends of Mummelsee

Numerous legends are connected with this mystic lake. In bright sunshine it looks harmless, but imagine the place without the road and the tourist infrastructure, far up in the mountains, in fall or winter, under low clouds, in fog, or with a storm howling in the trees, at night… Add a sprinkle of superstition, and the setting is more than ready for scary stories.

Very long ago, so old legends tell, there was a monastery up here between the mountain tops. The convent of pious monks was often visited by the people from the valleys around, who came to pray at this holy place. However, one morning they arrived and did not find the monastery any more. Instead there was a dark, cold, deep lake. The church, the convent, everything had sunken in the waters and disappeared. Since then the place has been considered haunted.

Throwing stones into the lake, for example, is said to arouse a thunderstorm.

Many legends tell of the water sprites who inhabit the depths of the lake, the king of the lake, and his daughters. Every night the beautiful nymphs rise to the surface to sing and dance. The most famous tale is this one.

The nymphs were good spirits. In former times they used to go down to the farms and villages in the daytime to help people with their daily work. However, they had to be back in the crystal palace at the sea bottom as soon as night fell.

Once a nymph fell in love with a young man, son of a farmer, from a nearby village. She came to the village inn and danced with her loved one, another dance, and another, and another – and totally forgot the time.

Suddenly the clock stroke ten. Panicking, the nymph ran up into the forest and to the lake together with her loved one. On the lakeshore she told him, “We will probably never meet again, I must die for not returning in time. Wait for a moment. If you see blood rising in the water, then I have lost my life.” Then she dived in and disappeared.

The young man anxiously stared into the water. It was a dark, moonless night, the waters were totally still. Then he saw a cloud of blood rising from the depth. The poor nymph had died for her love. And no nymph has ever made her way back to the village since.

During a previous visit in mid-winter: The lake was frozen over, and we could walk across on solid ice. That year we had a really cold January with lots of snow.