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• Winter trip to the Alemannic Carnival Fools jump
• Information about the winter trip – fools between the Black Forest and the Swabian Alb

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Winter trip to the Alemannic Carnival

Winter trip to the Alemannic Carnival
Fools jump

The Rottweiler Fasnet is hardly inferior to the famous carnival in the Rhineland. And if you, as a motorcycle fool, have already started for it in the middle of winter, you can let off steam in the nearby Black Forest and on the Swabian Alb. Foolishly good!

Gerhard Eisenschink

02/11/2009

“A fool or fool is used to describe people who behave immature, stupid, clumsy, prejudiced, prejudiced and ignorant”, you can read about the term on Wikipedia “fool”. Frank Zielke likes to be a fool, even a staunch fool and as such a member of the Rottweiler fool’s guild. And the best time for me to visit a fool like Frank in the midst of his guild is the carnival season. Fasnet, as it is called in southwest Germany.

Am I a fool too if I want to do this on my motorcycle in the middle of winter? Maybe, but the weather report gives courage: Mostly dry and temperatures around zero degrees. On the Sunday morning before Carnival, the BMW F 800 ST runs leisurely 110 kilometers per hour on the A 81 south to the Rottweil exit. The night before last it had still snowed, now the sun is shining over the lightly sugared landscape and the completely dry streets. The thermometer in the cockpit of the BMW measures a pleasant five degrees. So go ahead! To the left – that is to say in the east – striking blocks of the western slope of the Swabian Alb emerge, which protrude into the sky like dominoes.

Actually, I wanted to meet Frank for the proclamation, the big appearance of the fools who officially take over the town hall and the city of Rottweil at noon. But it is perfect motorcycle weather and the rocks of the Swabian Alb are too tempting. Motorcycle fools are simply drawn to the mountains, which Frank, himself a motorcyclist, does too. Only: as a serious fool he is indispensable for carnival. Our meeting is quickly postponed to the evening. in the “a cup”, the traditional restaurant of the Rottweiler fools and motorcyclists, we will find each other.

Single-handedly I swing south from Rottweil to Spaichingen. “Drive slowly – fooling around”, is there under the place name sign. Just the greasy paste of confetti, streamers and other carnival leftovers on the street will slow down every motorcyclist. It must have been intense here a short time ago, while now there is not a single fool to be seen. So on – up to the Alb. Behind Durbheim there is a real serpentine route on which I chase the 800 meters up the Alb ascent. Crisp slopes in February. What a feeling! No warning is given here about fools. Or should I be warned about??

There is a lot of snow up on the Alb. In front of Mahlstetten, masked children are sledding down a slope, almost faster than I am currently advancing. Because on the much colder plateau, nasty corners lurk in the shade and under trees, where there is still slippery snow pebbles with hidden remains of ice. I carefully puff over it at walking pace. The Metzeler-Roadtec tires are a good tool for cornering in summer. Tunnels are needed on snow and icy mud. But the sun is working hard to remove such winter troubles.

Iron ham

A fine line between grippy and smooth: the streets of the Alb are lined with snow. Look first, then tilt.

There are no such handicaps down in the valley, so I quickly reach Muhlheim an der Donau. The place on a steep mountain spur is motorcycle-friendly: three tight curves to the first houses. One almost overlooks the already familiar warning sign of fooling in the driving pleasure. “At two-thirty, she’ll never get through here,” says a lady in a sutler’s costume in front of the old town hall, a “Old Alemannic half-timbered building from 1400”, pouring red liquid into a copper cauldron: “Fruit punch. The parade of the children’s carnival is about to begin.” The little ones are already pouring like ants from every alley onto the main street. Men in Landsknecht clothing strive purposefully towards the inn, from which loud singing can be heard. Soon everything will be tight here – in the pub and on the street.

I stay sober, choose the detour to the beautiful valley of the young Danube. Shortly before Fridingen, she behaves appropriately to the fooling around: crazy. It just seeps away. Part of their water trickles over to the Rhine. The exuberant swings of the Danube Valley also go well with the carnival. I follow them for a while to make a turn to the southwest via Stetten back into the Baratal. Well they are “Alb thousands” on, the vertically towering dominoes that so magically attracted me on the autobahn. The Staufenberg, for example, which, at 955 meters high, appears to be a huge block that literally seals off the valley of the Bara. I go around the rock to the east and meet the next chunk behind Nusplingen. This time it comes towards me in the middle of the street and is striped in black and white. A tractor pulls a huge carnival wagon, on which boys and girls in convict clothing cheer and spread the carnival atmosphere. All hell has broken loose on the highway – in Obernheim, a few kilometers further, there must have been a lot of celebrations on the street shortly beforehand. The shield “Hexenfasnet” explains everything – and excuses the familiar confetti topping on the street. I pass the city cautiously. It’s time to get out of the field, because the sun is already low. The round to the north via Schomberg back to Rottweil must be completed quickly. However, with a small detour from Tieringen up to the Lochenstein, because when you look at the map it becomes clear that the Alb has a section of serpentine route ready again here. It has to be fun – for all kinds of fools!

“You could have left your streamers and your cardboard nose at home”, I hear that in the evening when I meet Frank Zielke and his fools guild in the “a cup”. My attempt to present myself as a mood cannon with tried and tested carnival insignia fails. The Rottweiler fooling has nothing to do with carnival on the Rhine, with polonaise dancing and silly slapstick. It is centuries-old custom that is maintained with a lot of effort. And so I find out about the valuable masks that are only worn on Carnival Monday and Carnival Tuesday. And then only until the 6 p.m. prayer ring, because the Rottweiler are fools “Day fools”. After 6 p.m. they are in civilian clothes, so to speak – but no less foolish. On the other hand, they don’t understand the rules for participating in the “Fool’s jump”, the big parades on Carnival Monday and Carnival Tuesday. If you want to march, you need a fool’s letter and a costume that exactly matches the classic role models. The next morning, Carnival Monday, the BMW thermometer shows minus degrees. It’s seven o’clock and it’s still dark. But on the day of the fool’s leap, ghostly figures were already out and about in the alleys of Rottweil when I secretly mogle my way into the city center, which was actually closed to all traffic. Not far from the Black Gate, I park – no, hide – the machine in an alley and mingle with people and fools. There’s that bustling around “Gschell” with his brightly colored dress, draped over and over with bells, and his smiling mask. the “Federahannes” is out and about with bared teeth and grim wild boar tusks that contrast with his feather-adorned cloak. With his jump pole, he is the namesake of the fool’s jump. That “Bite”, the “Schantle”, the “Fringed dress” and the “Guller” are other characters who all begin their three-hour parade through the city through the Black Gate at exactly eight o’clock. Drums, timpani, brass bands and the crack of whips, plus the ringing of thousands of bells from people moving in time, who pass by with their rigid masks – the fool’s jump makes the air tremble, gets under your skin, looks like a mixture of Venetian elegance and archaic ritual. And he’s spontaneous. Again and again the fools discover acquaintances in the crowd who need to be teased. Or they throw candy among the people, wave, hop, make contortions and fool around.

Iron ham

In the foolish days, you don’t just have to watch out for snow and black ice on the streets.

When I try to get my motorcycle out of the sealed-off city center after the fool’s jump, I am promptly stopped. Not from the police, who haven’t been seen all day and are probably disguised themselves. No, from the fools who now make the streets unsafe in groups and tease everyone who comes across their path unmasked.

I can make it out of town with difficulty – because I have to get out. And alone again, buddy Frank is now fully occupied with teasing. He certainly doesn’t think about his motorcycle today. The weather is tempting again. Cloudy and a little colder than yesterday, as indicated by the F 800 as a mobile digital thermometer. To compensate, I turn on the heated grips and warm my heart on the next bend. However, I only find it behind Schramberg, because west of Rottweil the B 462 usually leads straight to the top of Germany’s highest low mountain range. But then there are bends, like the one from Lauterbach towards Hornberg, where a narrow road meanders down the slope, that it is a pleasure. The Black Forest is as well known for such asphalt pieces of cream as it is for its cuckoo clocks.

The route from Hornberg to Triberg is typical of the Black Forest: steep slopes on both sides of the valley, curves, tunnels. And the famous cuckoo clocks. Before entering the Sugar Loaf tunnel near Triberg, the characteristic pithy, loud call stops me. Indeed, from the “Largest cuckoo clock in the world” a meter-tall bird just pokes out and joins in on the hour on the hour. the “clock” is almost the size of a single-family house and is accessible with its giant clockwork. In Triberg, too, the cuckoo dominates the local souvenir scene: the clocks have been cleverly set so that a cuckoo calls from somewhere in a shop at any time. In the middle of winter.

To consolidate the impression, I also have to go up to Schonach “First largest cuckoo clock in the world” – again in the size of a single family home. Which is really bigger, the Triberger or the Schonach clock, has been settled out of court – and so there is one “first largest” and a “greatest”. But then another one in the Harz Mountains “largest cuckoo clock” showed up, they went to court. After all, the people of Harz had also measured the television antenna.

I’m also getting a little megalomaniac now, because it pulls me further up. Over the Wilhelmshohe and Oberprechtal I want to drive a small, nice round to the north and on a winding road – so the map promises – to Gutach. Although dark clouds are gathering in the sky. It looks like a thunderstorm in winter. A little later this actually discharges “thunderstorm”. Without lightning and thunder, but with a heavy shower of sleet. I’m looking for shelter in the bus shelter at the junction to the Rohrhardsberg ski lift. Looks damn bad: The street is covered with a centimeter-thick, wet-white layer. Not pure ice, but damn greasy. This makes the motorcyclist – especially with a sportily tight tire profile – quite meek. And waits for cars to come by and leave tracks through the mud. As if on rails, I balance very carefully back in these gullies so as not to make my own fool’s jump. With every meter that I get deeper, it gets better. In Triberg, the snow pebbles are just water – and my tires can handle that.

The clouds seem to get stuck in the mountains and I continue my round towards Sankt Georgen. Although the B 33 leads up again strongly behind Triberg, it remains free of ice. And when I turn left in Sankt Georgen towards Tennenbronn, the streets are dry again. It’s now back to Rottweil, where I’ll be Frank and his co-fools at 6 p.m. “a cup” meet. All have you “Kleidle” Filed for today and enthusiastically tell of the day’s fools. I want to know how one can survive the cold shower on Ash Wednesday the day after tomorrow. “By hanging my clothes in the closet and getting the Suzuki GSR 600 out of the garage,” says Frank. “You can be a motorcycle fool all year round. But before that comes Carnival Tuesday.”

Information about the winter trip – fools between the Black Forest and the Swabian Alb

Crazy tours and crazy times: motorcycle fools and carnival fools go well together in Rottweil at the fool’s jump. Because the city lies exactly between the two top touring areas Black Forest and Swabian Alb.

getting there The A 81 leads from Stuttgart directly to Rottweil. The B 462 is ideal for a quick journey to the Black Forest, while the Swabian Alb can be reached from Rottweil via the B 27 and B 14.

Travel time If you want to experience Carnival, you have to be there on Carnival Monday and Carnival Tuesday. Then the Rottweiler fools are on their way – and so are the fools of many cities and towns in the
Vicinity. On Carnival Sunday there are only small performances and parades for children in most places.

Stay All rooms in Rottweil are almost fully booked during the carnival. Outside the city, the situation is more relaxed, for example in the Hotel Hirt in 78652 Deisslingen, Oberhofenstrasse 5, telephone 0 74 20/92 91-0, www.hotel-hirt.de. The double room costs from 34 euros per person. You can also find good accommodation at Gasthof Kreuz in 78667 Villingendorf, Hauptstrasse 8, phone 0741/34057, www.kreuz-villingendorf.de (double rooms from 33 euros per person). Both hosts have tips for tours in the area.

Worth seeing An absolute must is at least one of the Rottweiler fool’s jumps, which take place on Carnival Monday at 8 a.m. and on Carnival Tuesday at 8 a.m. and 2 p.m. The most important parades in places with traditional fools’ guilds and classic carnival are those in Oberndorf (near Rottweil) and Elzach in the Black Forest, where Carnival Monday and Carnival Tuesday are also the most turbulent days. On Carnival Sunday, traditional carnival parades take place in many places in the Black Forest and the Swabian Alb.

literature The Reise-Know-How-Band is for tours in the Black Forest “Southern Black Forest” by Cornelia Ziegler for a price of 10.50 euros a very detailed travel guide. A comprehensive Baedeker Allianz travel guide has been published on the Swabian Alb at a price of 19.95 euros. Informed about the Rottweiler fool tradition “The big book of the Rottweiler Carnival” by Werner Mezger at a price of 29.90 euros and by the same author that “Little book of the Rottweiler Carnival” for 9.90 euros. For orientation: the MOTORRAD general map, sheet 18, scale 1: 200000, Mairs Geographischer Verlag, price 5.90 euros. With its waterproof lamination, it defies every sleet shower.

information Tourist-Information Rottweil, Hauptstrabe 21, 78628 Rottweil, phone 0741-494-280, www.rottweil.de. The tradition-conscious pages of the Rottweiler Narrenzunft are also interesting: www.narrenzunft.rottweil.de. The Swabian Alb Tourism Association, Marktplatz 1, 72574 Bad Urach, phone 07125/948106, www.schwaebischealb.de, provides information about the Swabian Alb. Schwarzwald-Tourismus GmbH, Ludwigstrasse 23, 79104 Freiburg, is responsible for the Black Forest and can be reached on 0761 / 89646-0 (www.schwarzwald-tourismus.info, www.schwarzwald-touristik.de).

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