Walk to the Sources of Isar River

My feelings: controversies worldwide increase. Will this finally end in transformative understanding or in psychotic mass murder, means war?

My feelings, my experience: in e-mail sharing and chat meet intellectuals, soaked with thousands pages of books, filled up with information about all and everything.

That's, how I see myself and others, who write in e-groups: Highly skilled bookworms try to convince themselves, that intellectual insights have value and weight.

Do these efforts remind you on lectures like from Fidel Castro for his people? Or like from Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh for his sannyasins?

The ones, who listen, believe after several hours to follow the right track. Worse than bogus: most of us believe to be right - Good Luck!

most of us believe to be right - Good Luck!

Friday evening the summer heat over the country unloads in stormy weather. Flash, hail, storm shakes the trees up. Some trees split and fall over the street. Once again some humans have to sacrifice their life for the power of nature.

Saturday morning Mima and I wake up very early, leave Munich at 7.00 a.m., enjoy a cold bath in the lake Kochelsee one hour later, drive up all serpents to Walchensee, and visit her old father and his friend at breakfast time in Wallgau.

Soon we leave the old couple, to climb up the mountains with our morning energy. Meanwhile first clouds hide the mountain peaks. We drive few kilometres more to the first village behind the Austrian border: Scharnitz.

''3,5 hours walk to the Isar river sources'', says a sign. So our march starts before 12.00 a.m. After four hours and 15 Kilometres we reach to the Isar sources. A simple hut in the mountains, called Kastenalm, gives us shelter.

After four hours and 15 Kilometres we reach to the Isar source.

Mima has finished all her energy and complains with angry emotions. Two women with a baby and an old dog have ordered a taxi, to bring them back. So Mima can drive back too. I love to walk back, rolling down the long way beside the murmuring, green, cold river.

Cows lay beside the path, chew their grass under the trees. Clouds come closer.

After one third of the long way, the taxi with the women picks me up. We come down to Mima's car in hard falling rain.

Only four kilometres back to Mittenwald, Germany, we enjoy a sauna bath, eat dinner, and sleep exhausted.

Sunday morning we pick up the old couple, Mima's father here in Wallgau. It's around 350 Kilometers back to Bamberg.

we enjoy the sauna bath in Mittenwald

On our next stop we visit the son of the old girl friend of Mima’s father. Klaus has my age and works in reality – no time for cyber dreams. He explores e. g. with his woman in his motor home the United States this month again.

He has renovated his house in the country side. He builds up an old Mercedez four wheel truck, to explore South America next year for more than half a year.

In two hours only Klaus builds in Mima’s old Blue Whale a new window. This work we should have done several years ago.

I’m ready, to stand Mima’s caprice better. We share her rolling home, the very simple, 12 years old VW Van. In the coming controversies, I feel, these minor facts loose importance, isn’t it? Or are fantasies about future an obsolete approach?

In two hours only Klaus builds in Mima’s old Blue Whale a window.