So, last Saturday, my younger brother and I got in the car and drove to Ilsenburg, a small town at the foot of the mountain. After arriving, we first visited the medieval monastery. There is more to see than just the mountain, of course. The monastery was interesting to see, though I’ve seen better ones. Then it was time to put on my trail running gear and head up the mountain. A route called the Heinrich Heine Trail runs from Ilsenburg up the mountain. Heinrich Heine was a 19th-century German poet of Jewish descent—and that’s about the extent of my knowledge regarding the man. But this route is said to be the most beautiful way to ascend the Brocken, so who am I to question Heinrich’s judgment? I ran down from the monastery to the river and followed it upstream. The route was indeed stunning, with streams, rocky paths, and mountains all around me. After a few kilometers, I passed the beautiful Ilse waterfalls, where I took a moment to soak in the surroundings. Trail running in an environment like this is just so much fun. After the waterfalls, the Brocken came into view. The mountain still looked so far away from there. But fortunately, I was still able to maintain a reasonably fast pace. A little further on, a sign indicated that the summit was only 4.5 kilometers away—which, in terms of distance, isn’t actually very far at all. I checked my watch and saw that I still had over 400 meters of elevation to gain. The distance wasn’t great, but gaining more than 400 meters in elevation over 4.5 kilometers means only one thing: steep!

And that certainly turned out to be true; the path became so steep that running was no longer an option. So, I decided to walk at the fastest pace possible. Many people looked at me and smiled. On one hand, they likely respected the effort, but I can also imagine them thinking I was crazy. Along the way, I came across a small, somewhat dilapidated tower offering a view over Northern Germany. Naturally, I climbed it to take some photos of the scenery. The wind was noticeably stronger higher up the mountain, so I quickly moved on before I could get cold. After tackling some more grueling, calf-burning elevation gain, I rounded a bend and saw that the summit wasn’t far off. The path also leveled out a bit, allowing me to pick up the pace again on certain stretches. And then—after one hour and forty minutes, 900 meters of elevation gain, and 12 kilometers—I stood at the summit: goal achieved! It was incredibly busy at the top. A small train runs up the mountain, so naturally, many tourists take the easy route up. At the actual summit, there is a cairn—a stack of stones—displaying the mountain’s name and elevation. It was crowded there too, of course, but I decided to queue for a photo anyway; I felt I had earned it. Fortunately, the line moved quickly, and it wasn’t long before it was my turn. The wind was strong up there and the temperature was just above freezing, so I had no intention of standing still for long.