The Alps (Part 3) | Slopes and Valleys - Climbing, Tobogganing and Fly Fishing in Bavaria

The Alps, from Slovenia to Switzerland, a journey across Europe's most prominent mountain range. Bavaria. In the very south, Germany looks like a picture postcard. Fly fishermen pursue their favourite pastime at the upper reaches of the river Isar. In Berchtesgaden, salt has been mined for almost 500 years. Church painters preserve the beauty of the numerous Baroque churches. We travel over Chiemgau near Salzburg. The journey begins at the Untersberg Massif, leads to Lake Chiemsee and ends in the Isar Valley near Lengris. In the most southeastern edge of Germany lies the country's only alpine national park. In the middle of the national park, the Watzmann, a mountain shrouded in legend. Here King Wasemann is said to have been turned to stone as punishment faced cruelty to humans and animals. Like a fjord, Lake Königssee stretches over 8 kilometres between the mountains of the national park. It was created by glaciers during the Ice Age. With over 1,000 metre thick ice, they formed its basin over 10,000 years ago. Only a few kilometres away, as the crow flies, lies a prominent mountain massif, the Untersberg. It spans Bavaria and Austria. In 1961, the ropeway was put into service. Right next to the summit station lies the alpine lodge Hochalm. The highest peak may only be just 2,000 metres, but it's still a challenge for alpine mountaineers. The multiple world champion in ice climbing, Ines Papert, is the first to attempt to climb the most dangerous route on the south face. The rock face is around 300 metres high at this point. On the scale of 1 to 11, denoting difficulty, it's ranked 10. On the mountain I become very calm and peaceful. Just being so remote in such a position, being above it all, being able to look out into the distance, that gives me a lot of strength and energy. The trained physiotherapist only discovered her enthusiasm for climbing when she moved to Bavaria. By going bouldering, climbing without a rope and harness in summer, Ines prepares for her greatest passion, ice climbing. I think for me the harsh environment on the mountain and dealing with the blows of nature, the cold and the many other unpleasant things, which aren't that unpleasant when you've made it, that has made me much tougher when it comes to problems in everyday life. I deal with them in a different way. I always ask myself, what would I do on the mountain? And then any difficult and dangerous situation on the mountain seems much more dramatic to me. It's a lesson Ines Papert wants to pass on to her son. I want my child to know that nothing matters as long as he's out in nature. That's what turns you into a happy person. You develop respect for nature, you learn how to evaluate dangers and you just live a more satisfied and happier life than if you just sit around at home all day. Ines feels most at ease when she's in the cold. She's been very successful in ice climbing. She won the World Cup three times. Five years ago, she stopped competing. But in winter, expeditions are still a part of her life. I find the transitory nature of ice fascinating. You have to really observe the ice, get a feeling for it. And the colour also tells me a lot about its condition, whether I can climb it, how high the friction is. Then I can also calculate the risk I'm taking. On an ice wall, there are neither fixed paths nor ropes. The cliffs and gorges look different each winter, depending on how rivers and waterfalls are frozen. Ines must be prepared to take detours to reach the summit. Women are still a minority in climbing circles. Girls are brought up differently, boys always have to look after the girls. Girls mustn't climb too high up a tree. In the end, it's the same with rock climbing. But there are still a lot of strong women, and you can tell the difference. Women are more forward-thinking. They need to really work on their technique to make up for the strength they lack compared with men. Ice climbing in Bavaria is only possible a few months a year, so Ines Papert makes use of every opportunity. The journey continues further south, to Berchtesgaden. Here, Adolf Hitler spent his summers on Obersalzberg. The Nazis drove the inhabitants away, and it became the Führer's security zone, shielded from public access. Next to Berlin, it became a sort of second government residence. Most buildings were destroyed by the bombs of the Allies. Only the Kirchsteinhaus reminds visitors of the time. The Kirchsteinhaus used to be known as Hitler's tea house. Today, it's become a mountain inn. The small market town of Berchtesgaden is the gateway to the national park. The source of its wealth lies below ground. The rich salt stores made the area flourish as far back as the Middle Ages. After the town had been granted the excavation rights for salt. The salt mine has shaped the face of the town for almost 500 years. For 40 miners, it offers a steady source of income. One of them is Andreas Neumayer. He's a fourth-generation miner. Below the earth, a network of 30-kilometer tunnels and shafts and chambers await him. The mountain is my home and my living at the same time. It's my workplace, of course, but it's more than that. You can't simply come and work in the mine. It has to be your passion. You have to love the mountain. It has always been my dream job. Others wanted to be firemen, but I wanted to be a miner. To be accepted as an apprentice in the mine, a qualification in a trade is required. Andreas first trained as a joiner and then took on two years' apprenticeship as a miner. The galleries are up to 200 meters below the earth and are connected by shafts. The miners are often on their own. Only the junctions have electric light. The first time I came down here, I felt like I was in a labyrinth. The mountain is so huge. I felt so small. You only learn to find your way around as you have an older mate with you for the first two years. You just have to remember where he took you and then you find your bearings eventually. The salt is washed out of the stone. For this, cavities are created into which fresh water is fed. Like this, the salt is released from the stone as brine. Andreas and his colleague are preparing for an explosion to create another hole. The snoids were once used for waste materials. Today, they're a quick means of transport from one tunnel to the next. Andreas is now a 45-minute walk away from the exit. In here, you must always keep due respect. My granddad used to tell me that if you are on your own underground, you must never turn around, because that's when you get scared. There's some truth in that. If you're on your own and you hear noises, then it does make you feel a bit uneasy. Underground, everyone is equal. That's an unwritten law. And so Andreas' father, his foreman, is just another workmate during their break. I am very proud to be a miner. Firstly, because I am carrying on the family tradition and also because there are only a few remaining miners in Bavaria. So I take a certain pride in being one of the few left to work in this profession. At the moment, apprentices are only trained every other year. The salt stores in Berchtesgaden will only last for another 100 years. From Berchtesgaden, the route leads to the Chiemgau mountains. Our route? Bad Reichenhall, another salt mining town. Brine extracted from the mine in Berchtesgaden is brought here to be processed into salt. The old salt works was established in 1834 under King Ludwig I. It's an industrial monument and has been turned into a museum. The brine sources 500 meters below ground have earned Bad Reichenhall its status as a spa town. They feed into the health spas. Illustrious guests like Sigmund Freud or German poet Friedrich Hölderlin can be found in the town's guestbook. The 80-year-old Predigtstuhllift leads up Bad Reichenhall's local mountain. It's Germany's oldest cable car and a relic of Alpine transport history. From the summit, one can reach the surrounding forests. Due to climate change, more and more storms devastate the mountain forest. In the Alps, the forest is to protect the valleys and their inhabitants from landslides as it retains rock fragments and avalanches. Apart from storms, the trees are subject to an additional danger, the bark beetle, that today can be even found at an altitude of 1,500 meters. Inflicted trees must be cut down so that the protective function of the forest remains intact. A healthy mix of spruce, beech and fir trees makes for an ideal protective forest. It's Franz Obermeier's job to ensure this. He's a forester in the mountains of Ruhpolding. As a child, I always went over to our neighbor's house. He was a retired lumberjack and he would take me into the forest. Whenever he had the chance, he would take me by the hand and lead me into the forest to show me the places where he used to work. That's why I have such a close relationship to the forest. To make way for young trees to grow, old ones must be felled. This allows the light to shine through to the new forest generation. Franz Obermeier is a trained banker, but for 25 years he's now been working as a forester. Some of his most important colleagues are horses. We use cold bloods to carry and move the wood. They're hardy and agile beasts and can pull out about a cubic meter of wood. There are traditional draft horses and it's nice working with a living being, not just big, dead machines. The South German cold blood horse breed have worked in the mountain forests for centuries. They do less damage to the forest floor than machines and are still used in places the machines can't reach. In this windfall area, maple seedlings are planted. During reforestation, Franz Obermeier has to think ahead. These trees will only be felled, or as foresters say harvested, in around 140 years. A beautiful forest is a mixed forest when it has spruces, firs and beech trees and when there are old and young trees together. And there must also be some room for the animals and plants who have their natural habitat in the forest. In Franz's foresting plant, rare animals have found an environment to live. Peregrine falcons, golden eagles, wood grouse, black cocks and hazel grouse and for a few years also a pair of sea eagles. Together with his dog Silver, Franz Obermeier regularly goes hunting for deer and chamois. The season begins in May and lasts until the end of January. It's part of a forester's duties to maintain a natural balance between the forest and the animals. I don't particularly enjoy shooting deer or chamois. It's just an important part of my job. For if there are too many deer or chamois, it means that there is more damage caused by browsing and some tree species simply disappear from the mixed forest. So foresters have to take on the function of large predatory animals, like wolves or bears. I've been passed down this heritage from my predecessors and I must do what I can to improve what I've been given and pass it on to the next generation. It's certainly a great responsibility, but it's also a wonderful job. From Ruhpolding Forest, the journey continues to Lake Chiemsee. The lake is the heart of the region. With an area of 82 square kilometres, it's the largest lake in Bavaria. It emerged during the last ice age. Over thousands of years, moraine mounds evolved, leaving behind fertile land and creating islands in the so-called Bavarian Sea. This island is simply known as Fraueninsel, Ladies' Island. It received its name thanks to the Benedictine nuns who established a monastery here over 1,200 years ago. Until today, some 30 nuns live and work in the monastery. From the Fraueninsel, you can take a nostalgic steamer across the lake. Herren Chiemsee is a grander and more glamorous version of its little sister. The island's palace was constructed in 1878 on the order of Ludwig II. His greatest inspiration was Versailles. He wanted to build a replica at the foot of the Alps with a hall of mirrors, ceremonial rooms and a park with artistic vistas, herbaceous borders and fountains. However, the project remained uncompleted. Numerous lakes dominate the landscape. This one here is situated right on Germany's Alpine Route and is popular with swimmers. Parts of the riverbanks are the habitat of protected plant species. Stephanie Bauhofer often comes here for inspiration. When I'm out in nature, I just find it easier to be creative and to put my ideas onto paper. After graduating from Munich's School of Fashion Design she started her own business as a tailor. I grew up with the national costume here and at the age of five I was already a member of a society. As a tailor I find the national dress very important. It's unique. You can put in so many small details to complement the traditional design. It is something you can wear your entire life. Some years ago the national costume was frowned upon but it is worn once again, not just on festive occasions. Stephanie's clients are local and have a keen eye for quality. When I choose my material, it's important that they're all natural wool or cotton and not polyester or something like that. One should really avoid that and the colours should rather be subtle. Stephanie Bauhofer tailors her patterns using her own designs. She combines elegance with the grounded way of life here. This appeals to both young and old alike. The fascinating thing about this work is that you're at it from start to finish. It begins with the idea in your head and the sketch on a piece of paper and at the end a client is wearing it. In this region there are 150 different types of costumes. Almost every valley has its own. I think anyone who moves here and feels a special relationship to the place can wear it. It doesn't really matter if the person has been living here for 50 years or for one year. If they feel that they belong or want to belong and join in then why shouldn't they wear it? The Tracht is the traditional dress of a particular region. Colour, cut and also the way it's worn are strictly regulated. In contrast to the Dirndl dresses which developed from a maid's dress into an item of clothing for anyone. The Tracht is the traditional dress of a particular region. During the Corpus Christi parades the women wear their black Sunday best. South of Lake Chiemsee is a sprawling raised peat bog. It developed when the siltation of the lake progressed. Locals soon found a use for this newly accessible resource. First the farmers cut peat to use it for heating. The layer of peat was up to 8 metres deep. From the mid-19th century peat cutting became an industry and the material was sold as fuel. In 1988 peat cutting ended. Only a few years later the area was declared a national park. A little further along this small pilgrimage church lies in the midst of the woods. I love going here. It's such a peaceful and harmonic place. Having a church right in the middle of the forest is very rare. The façade alone is unusual. I mean, where else would you find a blue façade? Katharina Meyer is an apprenticed church painter. She well remembers her first day in the job. The scaffolding was a little wobbly and as I stood above the church spire with the wind in my face I could see far out into the landscape. It was an amazing experience. Unless, of course, you suffer from vertigo. Then it would probably be pure horror. But for me it was amazing. When Katharina comes to the churches she first acquaints herself with its artwork and tries to replicate it. From a carving or a mural she can determine when it was built. Katharina attends the municipal master school for gilders and carpenters. The only school of its kind in Germany. There she also learns restoration. I'm not a religious person. I do believe, but I believe in nature and in life and most of the time also in myself. But I don't believe in God. Still I enjoy going to churches. I respect it as work of art. Church painting is an important part of historic preservation. The craft requires precision and patience. Katharina Meyer forms ornaments paints sculptures and restores murals. An important part of my work is to uncover the layers bit by bit right down to the bottom layer of paint using a scalpel and a magnifying glass. Then you can have a look at which pigments and glue were used so you can reconstruct it in the most authentic way with the right colors and technique. To do so, church painters not only need a firm grounding in Baroque stucco techniques materials and gilding. A passion for the history of art and churches goes with it. That's the nice thing about my job. When you restore historical buildings you have to use the original materials. They actually ground the colors from stones or made glue by boiling animal skins. We use historical canvas, for example. I like the fact that everything is produced on a natural basis. For almost 400 years monks and church fathers lived a secluded life as hermits here. The last one left the hermitage in 2010. The next leg of the journey leads via the Wendelstein Massif to Kreuth on Lake Tigernsee. The Inntal Valley is an important traffic artery. On the ground, across the water and even in the air. By the Wendelstein Massif gliders make use of the thermal lift at the edge of the Alps. For geologists, the Massif is the perfect place to study the Earth's development. What is now hard stone was part of a gigantic coral reef 250 million years ago with ancient plants and animals. The Massif gained its current appearance through the shifting of the ground, erosion and weathering. With an altitude of 1,800 meters the summit rises up from between the surrounding mountains like a gigantic hunchback. This exposed location has earned it a number of technological installations. It's the perfect place for radio, television and mobile phone transmitters. There's also been an observatory here for the past 70 years. It belongs to the Technical University of Munich. The coronagraph records the movements of the Sun. The observatory was first used to look at the Sun. Meanwhile, its main function is the study of the stars. Towards the west lies Lake Tegernsee, holiday resort and popular home for the rich and famous. On a foothill of the Alps near Wildbad Kreuth Ringberg Castle is perched. Duke Luitpold of Bavaria oversaw the construction of the castle from 1912 until his death in 1973. He intended to erect a new family residence. However, as he never married this plan failed. Today the castle serves as a conference centre for the Max Planck Society. The winters in Kreuth are cold and snowy. Conditions that allow Markus Grausam to pursue his passion, natural track tobogganing. The Alps have shaped me. That's why I'm active in the mountain sport. It's also what led me to finally turn my hobby tobogganing in winter into a profession. Natural track tobogganing is so fascinating because you're in direct contact with the ground, so also the ice. You're only 10 mm away from the ice and speed down the mountain at about 80 km per hour. Eight years ago the trained carpenter began making his own toboggans. At first only for his own private use. Meanwhile, Markus has become a professional toboggan maker. He crafts high quality sports and leisure toboggans for clients throughout Europe. Markus always chooses the building material himself. Some of it comes from the Alps. Finding the right wood is a difficult task. If the ash isn't flexible enough, the individual parts can break off. That's when you know that you've chosen the wrong wood and to look elsewhere next time. The position of the tree often determines whether the ash will be flexible enough. Even if his sport has a rather rustic image, making the toboggans is a science in itself. Markus tests the toboggans himself to find out where there's room for improvement. I can't reveal all the details of the toboggans. I've been developing them for years, so some things will remain a trade secret, one to be guarded in future too. Markus is one of Germany's most successful tobogganists. In this discipline he's been the only German to win the World Cup title, as he did in 2004. If you are afraid, it starts becoming dangerous. You should always stand at attention, especially on ice. But if you're in control of your toboggan, you have mastered the sport, then you don't need to be afraid. To the west is the Isar Valley. The journey leads to Lengris. The Bavarian Oberland is where the people of Munich come to relax. Despite the number of tourists, nature and the mountains have largely been preserved. The small spa town Bad Tölz lies in the middle of the Isar Valley. Salt trade made the town prosperous far back as the Middle Ages. Katharina Neumüller lives on the outskirts of Bad Tölz. What I love about my work is that I create something every day. I can see the progress I've made at the end of the day. And I also know I'm doing something useful. I'm making an instrument that can give pleasure to so many people. Katharina Neumüller is carrying on an Alpine tradition. Her grandfather was also a violin maker. She now works in the family business with her father. Every instrument has a connection to the Alps, because that is where the wood comes from. It has to have small annual rings, which means that it grew slowly. And that's what the wood is like from the mountains. Because there are short summers and long winters, the growth period every year is so short. And that gives us just the right wood for making violins. It takes her 80 hours to make one violin. Her most important tools are her hands and ears. The sign of a good violin is when it has an open, strong and concentrated sound. If you can still hear it in the back rows of a concert hall. And if you can play anything on it. The sound of the violins and the instrument expresses the emotion and technique of the player. Wanting to be able to both play and make violins perfectly is asking too much. You have to concentrate on one thing. But you should be able to play a few notes to determine the sound. Children are Katharina Neumüller's favorite customers. As well as making instruments for professionals, she's also specialized in children's violins and hires them out. Katharina knows that learning to play the violin isn't always easy. That's why she wants to provide children from a young age with instruments of a good tone quality that are easy to play. Children are so happy when they are given a new violin. It gives me so much pleasure to see that. It's great when they come here into my workshop and being able to offer them something with which they can develop. The journey leads along the Isar Valley to Lenggris. An almost extinct alpine icon has once again settled in the region, the Ibex. The animals roam at altitudes of 1,800 meters between the forest and ice boundaries, like here on Benedictine Mountain. At the start of the 19th century, poachers and hunters almost eradicated the Ibex in the Alps. But its blood, fur and particularly its horns were believed to hold healing powers, determined its fate. Thanks to successful breeding, the animals could be reintroduced into the wild. Now there are once again around 300 Ibex in the Bavarian Alps. In the depths of the Karwendel mountain range lies the source of one of the coldest rivers in Europe, the Isar. Even in summer, the temperatures near the source rarely rise above 5 degrees. At the river's headwater, it's a wild torrent, meandering deeply into the flintstone banks. It's a popular spot for anglers, fly fishermen in particular. Fly fishing, a supreme fishing discipline. A weighted line is used to transport the bait. Fly fishermen need plenty of space to cast out their lines. To catch a fish using the fly, you need to have the right technique to cast out your line. You need to observe well and see if there are fish in the water or find good spots. That's what we call reading the water. Andreas Pfirstinger grew up by the river Isar. Already as a child, he often played in the water and enjoyed fishing. The word fly fishing comes from the fly, the artificial bait that imitates an insect that has fallen into the water. The keener fishermen make the bait themselves. When you make a fly, you need a real insect as a model. It doesn't have to look realistic in every detail. The most important thing is that the shape is right. The area is often called Bavarian Columbia as the Isar is similar to the wild rivers in the Rocky Mountains. Andreas, who runs a fly fishing school, learned his skills in Montana. Andreas carefully reads the course of the river, studies the behavior of the fish and their prey and calculates the water current. As a fly fisherman, I highly respect nature and especially fish, of course. Up here at the head of the Isar, there are still so many types of fish, brown trout, grayling, they still spawn here. So I always let the fish go again so that they can take care of their young and continue to exist. The Isar has only been flowing here again since 1990. That was when an environmental organization enforced that not all of its water should be pumped into a nearby hydroelectric power station. Ever since, a small amount has remained in its former bed.