Dobel, Second Attempt: A Hike and another Meadow

The trail we chose

A “next time” had been promised to us and indeed, a week later we set off in the campervan again. After a drive on the same curvy roads, we now tried the opposite side of Dobel. We left the car in a parking lot outside the village and chose the flattest of the trails that start from there.
Both wombats accompanied us this time. They had both begged so hard to be taken along, and promised to behave.

Luckily I was in much better shape than last week. The walk we did could almost be called a real hike. Taking off the rubber feet transformed the walking sticks into hiking poles that worked well on the gravel trail. The path led slightly downhill and soon took us into a mixed forest with firs and spruces as well as deciduous trees.

The sides of the trail had dense vegetation of grass, herbs, flowers and bushes. We even found and tasted wild raspberries.

The most impressive flowers were the foxgloves (digitalis), although they were almost finished already. Only the blossoms at the top were still blooming. These plants were taller than us!

We stopped for photos and a rest when we found a fallen tree trunk that looked like a suitable post for the wombats to pose on and a suitable seat to sit and rest.

The dead tree

I did not check how long or how far we actually walked. I could have continued further, but was anxious whether I’d make the return. Common sense made me decide that we’d better turn around.

That turned out the right decision. The weather was very muggy, temperatures up in the forest weren’t that high, but it was humid and anytime the sun came out between the clouds, it was boiling. Uphill walking works better for me than downhill, but it was nevertheless strenuous. I was glad when we found a bench by the trail.

We had a funny encounter there: a lady came walking her dogs. Five little dogs, all different breeds or mixes but all of the same light golden-brown colouring. She told us that they were all rescues that no one else wanted because they were old. In fact, all of them were 13 years old. Cute little fellows they were. Four were running free, the fifth was on leash because, the lady said, this doggie had her own head and would otherwise need 15 minutes to sniff one single flower, and then 15 minutes for the next, and the next…

My friend had promised to show me a certain beautiful place in a nearby valley. However, she did not remember exactly where it was. The nearby Eyachtal was the most logical suspect. We drove down there but did not find it. (Looks like we have to go on another trip there!)

Our meadow

What to do? Find a place to park the car next to a quiet meadow and give that place a try. Not easy as the Eyach valley is a popular destination and has a row of inns and restaurants lined up along the creek. We stopped someplace far enough from either of these and checked out the place. At first I thought, meh, but a closer look revealed it qualities. It had already been mowed, the grass was short. The upper part was flat, that’s where we set up the chairs. Then the slope led down to the creek. At one spot it actually formed a little “beach”.

The beach

The place was not as deserted as we would have liked. The first intruders soon left when they saw that the meadow was already “taken”. Then an old man appeared, who knew this place and often came here for a cold footbath at this "beach" in the creek. He gave us a lengthy lecture about Kneipp’s water treatments and about the importance of basic food. Well, he may be right, but against cancer this would not help very much. Sigh.

I had brought some fruit but that felt rather lame when Ella appeared with baskets and an Esky and laid two little tables with a scrumptious picknick. Everything had to be divided in two and set up on two different tables so we could keep the distance that anti-corona rules require.

Picknick, Ella-made (this here is my half!)

We feasted, oh we feasted! Then we followed our habit of sitting in a meadow chatting, observing, being. We even read summer poetry. The meadow wasn’t as interesting as the first one, it had few flowers and thus less insects, and the view was less wide. But there were beautiful trees around, clouds above, the rustling leaves in the wind, and the burbling little creek. Time passed in a very pleasant way…

Romantic creek