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Motorbike trip Vogelsberg
Motorbike trip Vogelsberg
You are Germany
Where to go on the first tour? Vogelsberg! What? Never heard? No wonder. The tiny Hessian volcanic mountains are not exactly among the hot spots for German tourism professionals. But it offers bikers a lot more than many popular, but often motorcycle-unfriendly corners.
Annette Johann
03/29/2007
Shivering, I close my collar. Was it really such a good idea? Five degrees! Sure, it’ll be as committed as the spring sun is working its way over the trees back there. But until then? At the Jagsttal service station, the last fingertip will probably be numb and in Wurzburg any residual body heat in orbit will be evaporated. The first tour. Conjured up for days, the machine got up and running, happy that something is finally working again – and then the same freezing every year. The 50 kilometers later, shivering, drifts into the first bar.
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You are Germany
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Anyway, the Kawa grumbles warmly. The first bends down into the valley are stiff and awkward. Nothing is there where it belongs, everything feels left-handed and as if it was spoked incorrectly. At the same time, it’s super nice to feel everything again, the wind, the speed, the lean angles. With a zag to 120, icy air on your face and up on the track. Make it small, accelerate, 140, 160, 180 km / h, tense your stomach muscles, uff, everything is still poor from the long winter. The whole body braces itself against the whirls of air that dance with bear forces. But the small 600 engine roars enthusiastically, the landscape flies by, the wind rattles your helmet and shoulders, bites your arms – it’s like being catapulted back into life! Missed for so long! Jagsttal, Ahorn, Boxberg, hit the brakes and the Tauberbischofsheim service area. The first 70 kilometers. Tickling fingertips, icy shivers, exactly as forecast.
Two hours later, as if numb from the roar of my helmet, I cross the Kinzig near Wachtersbach. This is where the Vogelsberg begins, and that’s where I want to go. Hardly anything can be seen of the beautiful circling river. The A 66, Intercity-Gleise and Landstrasse 3216 squeeze wide through the narrow valley. The Fulda– Frankfurt axis, for centuries the lifeline of the small mountain regions Spessart, Rhon and southern Vogelsberg. Escape route to the metropolitan area on the Main. The poor craftsmen started in the 19th century, moved to the up-and-coming industrial districts, and the first slums were formed around Frankfurt’s Ostbahnhof. Today the bankers commute to the skyscrapers by Daimler or Intercity. 57 minutes Fulda – Frankfurt.
Beyond the pitiful valley with the charm of a marshalling yard, it goes up to Wittgenborn. The road climbs steeply uphill through spring-like, bright green forest, the first lilies of the valley shining in the sunspots, a wooden truck gasps towards you with stinking brakes. On the Wittgenborn plateau, the forest opens up, revealing gentle hill profiles with flowering orchards and small island forests: the outermost, but already typical, foothills of the Vogelsberg. No rugged mountains, but a gently rising mountain range. Created 13 to 24 million years ago by a mighty volcano that buried half of southeast Hesse under a basalt plate covering 60 square kilometers. And with a total area of 2260 square kilometers, it was once the widest ember furnace in Europe, as geologists have calculated.
The road cuts down in sharp bends, straight to Wolferborn, crouching down into the valley. There you either go right to Gedern and Schotten, the former crater area, so to speak, or left to nearby Budingen. Budingen! There has to be so much time, after all, the most beautiful setting
Teen years.
Soon the ten-meter diving platform of the outdoor pool peeps through the trees. At that time I had packed seven and a half meters, ten only for the very brave. After a phalanx of splendid sandstone houses, the city wall appears on the right, the grammar school on the left. Closed in the meantime and the students migrated to the comprehensive school, the large wall clock stopped at 10.35 a.m. Time seems to have stopped in the cobblestone streets with their sandstone and half-timbered houses, the small shops and pubs on the ground floors. A few more meters, then the urban climax begins and behind the Jerusalem Gate the innermost part of the old city begins. Back then we had always sat on the worn wall in front of the towers. Ute and I, on Saturdays after the last, mostly skipped math lesson, and we reorganized the world. While the guys were doing their cruising laps, on screamingly tuned 50s or in their first junk cart, Sven, Michi, Juko. Budingen had the cruising mile par excellence. Two unbeatable kilometers along real strolling fillet pieces such as ice cream parlor, cinema, market square, school, then through the gate and again from the front. You could be on the move here for hours when time was still endless and the price of gasoline was 60 pfennigs.
Iron ham
Vogelsberg is particularly beautiful when it is in bloom.
I show the Kawa the old round, past the cinema and the horrible “Compressed Air” pub – now keep to the right – the museum and the ancient “Herberge zur Heimat”, of course not much has changed in listed old towns. Bars, shops and residents change, but the big things stay the same. There is even the prince, “zu Ysenburg und Budingen”, in a moated castle a few meters outside the center.
It’s running like clockwork again! In fast curves it goes through Princely Forest towards Hoher Vogelsberg. In between all the charm seems to fade and the pale area just as faded as the old grocery store and the restaurant “Zum Weiben Ross” a little later in Bindsachsen. Where signs cryptically point to “Outside 2” and “Outside 12”, whatever may be hidden there. But the fast cornering rhythm continues unabated, I’m really in it now, I almost crawl the little machine, the topography swings up again and forms magnificent serpentines. Wenings seems a lot more open-minded, and after all, Gedern represents the region’s Dorado for leisure. Thanks to the nationally known lake of the same name. Formerly a popular meeting point for bikers, but today it is clearly “traffic-calmed” with quiet, reed-lined banks and old bathing jetties. In the place itself, however, real efforts to attract visitors. A sign proudly points to the sisterhood with Columbia in Illinois, a small memorial to the ex-GI Elvis Presley, who apparently dived into the waters here as an American occupier – and probably also covered the unspeakable homeland song “Must i because …”.
The bakery operators on the main street have put tables and chairs in the sun and have coffee for one euro, pieces for 70 cents on offer – the day actually seems to fulfill all the spring hit forecasts. Motorcycles from Garmisch and Peine rumble past. You know why, because behind the northern exit of the town begins the Hohe Vogelsberg and with the B 276 one of the most beautiful roads in the Upper Hessian orbit. 15 most picturesque kilometers of avenue to Schotten not only form the opening act of the famous ring, but also the start of a lap around the three highest “crater peaks” of the old volcano: Hoherodskopf, Taufstein, Herchenhainer Hohe, which is just under the 800-meter mark scratch – the Sella Group of Upper Hesse, so to speak. Okay, maybe a bit of a stretch, but this is where the bear rages in the summer. The contours of the hills remain gentle, the forests are distributed like islands, and countless newborn streams with their pasture banks shape the circular Vogelsberg like wheel spokes. Nidder, Nidda, Horlof, Schwalm, Lauter, Luder, there is no end. There are over 20 in total.
The old town also cuts a fine figure at night.
A warning board lists the accidents of the past seven years. A relentless 80 km / h speed limit and double guardrails reinforced with protectors complement the psychology of horror. The road rises untangled above, cuts sharply and excitingly over ridges and through valleys, tight radii, steep climbs, daring perspectives. A few local athletes mill in a deep sloping position, concentrated, perfect, a maximum of 100 and nowhere under 80 things.
Behind the bulkheads a small branch, hardly recognizable. But it is, no doubt about it. Here it begins, the old Schottenring. One of the legends of German racing existence. It soars high above the city, surrounded by beeches that are as mighty as they are deadly in an emergency, at most the toughest 90-degree bends are shielded with double planks. The old mountain race track darts freely and beautifully with deserts
Asphalt cracks and hard kickback edges over the hills, the whole Vogelsberg plateau bows in front of her, until she plunges into the forest near the Ulrichstein junction and falls to Rudingshain by means of two magnificent serpentines. The teenage crew of a lowered Scirocco I observes the inclines with interest, then I’m out of sight and already on the home straight in the Niddatal. Past the disused Hessol petrol station, where an old Golf is being crumbled up again between stacks of tires and garden gnomes. Schotten is and lives motorsport. In 1953 the German Grand Prix even started here. Stars like Mit Schorsch Meier or Walter Zeller raced through chicanes made of beeches, serpentines and moats – probably the most daring moment of the quiet Vogelsberg. Then in 1955, after a major accident at Le Mans with 83 deaths, stricter regulations put such natural race tracks on the red list. It was over with the Schottener Weltenbuhne. It was not until 1989 that a courageous citizenry took up the tradition on an international scale and created the Oldtimer Grand Prix. Since then, things have been going on every summer on a new, small street circuit with a large audience. Motorsport is simply part of it, they say frankly in Schotten. Bikers welcome!
The last meters of altitude begin, the Oberwald with the flat rounded dome around the 773 and 763 meter high, only a few hundred meters apart double peaks of the mountain range. Gentle profile without rough edges as a result of millions of years of erosion. The vegetation appears thin and strained, the meadows and fields lush with hedges have disappeared, raised bogs have taken their place. On the Hoherodskopf, bars and inns are already in operation, a small chip shop offers motorcycle tour tips and a view of the horizon. At the baptismal font, cryptically thrown together lumps of basalt from an early cult site and a lookout tower from the beginning of the last century share the terrain. Dedicated to Otto von Bismarck, donated by Heinrich Buderus. Whose ironworks in nearby Hirzenhain burned the forests in rows, but also offered a few jobs. It was not until much later that tourism gradually made its entrance. With the first slopes and a ski lift in Herchenhain and on the Hoherodskopf. Today motorcyclists, hikers, cross-country skiers and cyclists come. The “Vulkanradweg”, which crosses the mountains on a disused railway line between Altenstadt and Lauterbach, is currently one of the major tourist events in the region. Seize every opportunity.
As in the Motodrom it goes through Sichenhain, behind it a steep flight to Herchenhain, the Kawa gives the last horsepower. Cool! Unfortunately it’s getting fresh again. While the fruit trees on the shimmering Gederner See lake are already in full bloom, the first green is just now emerging here. The winters are long and harsh and an immense 1200 millimeters of precipitation per year. Last year the snow was up until May 1st. I dig deeper into my jacket. In the villages the paintings that scroll
The houses are exposed to the weather with clapboards or Eternit. Anything older than five to ten years looks old and gray. Dung heaps steam next to the stables, and the Sparkasse car swaying by ensures the most necessary self-sufficiency. A couple of llamas graze somewhere on the edge of the forest. The friendly Andean inhabitants seem fully acclimatized. And in the middle of Sichenhausen: “Ferienroute Alpen-Ostensee”, hard to believe where I am actually here?
Friends had once married in the small Herchenhain church. Gunther was proud to come from one of the highest villages in Hesse. But the price was tough and Gunther was gone when he was barely 20. There was no future here. In winter you need sled dogs to get from Schotten to Lauterbach, that was a very serious tease in the 1970s when the district administration moved there.
In a sparkling slalom run it goes over Ilbeshausen, Lanzenhain and Eichenrod east down into the valley. With every decrease in altitude it gets warmer again. Then suddenly on the left completely unexpected splendor: Eichenbach Castle. As designed by King Ludwig, with battlements, towers, oriels. Neuschwanstein in Upper Hesse. Incredible after the poverty and loneliness of the higher floors. As if a Rolls Royce was parked in the middle of Bottrop.
It could just work before dark, the sun is just above the horizon, and it’s only a stone’s throw to Alsfeld. As soon as I park the kawa in front of the mighty arcades, it becomes noticeable. That inimitable charm when middle ages meet modern life. When the charisma acquired over centuries makes room for organic food and Tchibo, when cappuccino foams behind heavy sandstone pillars and Vodafone drapes the cell phones in front of oak beams from the 15th century. When a banal little warm-up break after a great motorcycle day delivers such a phenomenal historical drama almost free of charge on the saucer. You are Germany.
Info
Most of the time, only locals know the Vogelsberg. Reason enough to devote a weekend or a detour to the empty, well-developed routes and picturesque cities.
getting there
Centrally located in the heart of Germany between Fulda and Frankfurt, the Vogelsberg is easily accessible from all sides. The A 7 around Fulda offers good entry points, the A 5 between Alsfeld and Gieben and the B 521, A 66 and A 45.
The distance
The route shown below is much more detailed than described in the report and is intended to bring together the most extensive possible scenic and urban diversity in an exciting way.
Worth seeing
Even those who do not necessarily call themselves a history freak should not miss out on the medieval (small) towns on this tour. They are the salt in the Vogelsberg soup. In their old town centers, these offer hardly less flair than the famous German ones
Showcase treasures à la Rothenburg ob der Tauber or Heidelberg, but are much easier to explore – and also to drive on (!). In Budingen, Schotten, Lauterbach and Alsfeld there are perfect opportunities for breaks or overnight stays. The Alsfeld market square in particular has an Italian piazza ambience. By the way, Alsfeld is considered to be a clever pioneer in matters of early and everyday-oriented monument preservation. There, department stores and banks were integrated into old walls as early as the 1960s, when the Hessian old towns were being demolished for parking garages and street straightening.
Stay
As described above, it is advisable to head for the cities for overnight stays and breaks. The prices are moderate, the tourist offices very helpful and mostly quarters within old walls can be realized. Except in Lauterbach, where you can find something outside of the center. You can sleep and eat down-to-earth, but well, in »Karins Gasthof«, Schlitzer Strasse 4, for 34 euros (single room), phone 06641/4790. But he only has five rooms! It is expensive, but extremely atmospheric in the Budinger Schloss (single room 85, double room 140 euros), phone 06042/96470, www.buedingen.de. Alsfeld and Schotten offer even more options. Coordinate your wishes with the tourist office there (see box). Airy alternative: Berggasthof Hoherodskopf (763 m), single room 26 euros, phone 06044/8222, www.berggasthof-hoherodskopf.de.
information
Except for the (MOTORRAD) general map sheet 13, the
Allianz leisure map “Hessisches Bergland / Vogelsberg” plus information booklet and a few older hiking guides, there is hardly any literature on the Vogelsberg. Only regional informational publications from local bookshops and tourism offices can help (including accommodation service): Touristik Center Alsfeld, Am Markt 12, Telephone 06631/9110243, www.tca-alsfeld.de ;, Touristik Center Budingen, Altstadt 17, Telephone 06042 / 9637-0, www.buedingen-touristik.de; Internet tourist information Scots,
Vogelsbergstrasse 180, phone 06044/6651, Internet www.schotten.de.
The possessed
No question about it, Schotten breathes air that contains octane. As early as 1925, the freshly minted local motorcycle club had identified a demanding 16-kilometer route and invited it to the race. With success. In 1938 the first sports cars got involved, and after the war 90,000 sports fans were cheering stars like Schorsch Meier, Walter Zeller and Huschke von Hanstein again. Schotten played in a league with Schleiz, Avus or Solitude. In 1953 the time had come for the German Grand Prix and 170,000 spectators. Even if the fast motorcycles struck the course because of the danger it was a World Championship run – after all, it went through avenues and the towns of Gotzen and Rudingshain – 125 and 250 cc races for championship points. A serious racing accident at Le Mans that killed 83 spectators changed everything two years later. Schotten was on the red list. From the dream. In 1968, rallies and hill climbs cautiously returned, and there were plans to expand a permanent route like the one in Hockenheim. 1983 the no here as well. Only the Oldtimer Grand Prix in 1989 had a chance. On a small street circuit it now attracts the international oldie racing elite every summer. On 18./19. August 2007 for the 19th time.
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