L'Étang du Devin to Col de la Schlucht: Day 151

Forested mountains with remains of First World Battles in the morning, then a change to long stretches of open ridge.

On rising from my comfortable bed this morning I was unable to put weight on my right foot without a sharp pain in my back. Options I contemplated included asking to stay another night and Ibuprofen, however after slowly going through my back exercises I was able to hobble down to breakfast. Generous helpings of orange juice, coffee, fruit, granola, cheese, bread etc. helped my mood and convinced me I should have a very slow day. My plan was to wild camp at whatever distance I managed to achieve today.

On leaving I spoke to one of the large rambling group who were at the hotel last night. They were also preparing to depart after a week long trip organised by a travel company. Unbeknown to me they had noticed that I was a bit "done in" when I had arrived yesterday. It was sad leaving the Hotel d'Etang du Devin as I had much appreciated my stay after a long day yesterday.

I soon had an introduction to the theme of this morning. Close to the hotel was a cemetery for German war dead from the 1914 - 18 war. The Etang du Devin, a little further along the trail was no longer much of a lake having largely silted up. Beside it was a concrete bunker dug into the side of the hill, used to supply German soldiers with food and water. These and later structures were the result of major battles fought around the mountain of Tête des Feux in 1914 and 1915 as the French tried unsuccessfully to take German positions. Concrete bunkers remain, I noticed on one they had used rails intended for a railway to strengthen the roof. Rusted remains of barbed wire and the metal structures used to support it were still visible. As I came down from the mountain there was a neat cemetery for the French soldiers who died here. The thoughts of violence that such sights invoked contrasted sharply with the peace of the forest, its tall conifers silent above a carpet of moss and myrtilles and beneath a calm blue sky.

Remains of barbed wire beside a bunker.

War cemetery for French soldiers.

At Col du Calvaire the peace was disturbed by a major road. There was also a ski lift, a sort of dry luge track, tourist information, car parks, people on mountain bikes and most importantly for me, a café. Having  rested with a coke and a slice of myrtille tart I climbed a steep hill to reach a ridge. Here the character of my walk through Vosges mountains changed as I began to see views to my left and right as trees became sparse, small or absent. One of my first sights, seen only at certain places, was Lac Blanc (white lake) way below me as the land dropped steeply to the east. Later I would see Lac Vert (green lake). The Vosges mountains are not so wide that I could not see beyond them to both the east and west. To the east first there were lakes among the foothills, then the wide Rhine valley and in the blue distance, the mountains of the Black Forest. To the west the ground dropped more gradually and there were more forested hills but in the distance the plains of France stretched out into the haze. No doubt due to the beauty of the walk and because it is a Saturday many people were about (this and a lack of trees made it difficult to answer calls of nature). The whole area was a protected area for nature as the many signs asserted. We were told not to leave the path, and to make sure we obeyed, much of the track had wire strung between posts on one or both sides, to herd people in the right direction. My knee suffered as the path had many protruding lumps of granite which tried to force it in directions it did not want to go. I consoled myself that the path was heading south in a fairly straight line so I was making good progress towards my ultimate destination in Nice. Judging by the boundary stones marked "F" on the west side and "D" on the east side (where it was not defaced), the trail was following the 1870 to 1918 boundary between France and Germany. 

Open ridge path with steep drop to the east.

Stony path with wire each side.

View point on an outcrop of rock.

Col de la Schlucht was another major road crossing over the mountains., much loved by those on motor bikes. It also had a ski lift, a chapel, shops and cafes. After confirming that the hotel had no rooms I rested with a coffee and a quiche at a café (where the lady serving also filled my water bottle). I was waiting for darkness to approach as there were many signs indicating camping was not allowed. While the number of backpackers I passed clearly had camping equipment I suspected the rule was widely ignored but I did not want my camping equipment confiscated (a rumoured punishment). I continued on the trail still busy with people despite the approaching sunset, and wondered whether a signposted chalet belonging to Alpine club would have free beds. Thinking this unlikely on such a busy weekend, even assuming they were open for overnight stays, I continued on. Finding a clearing a little off the track I pitched my tent, thinking it would be invisible to anyone still out.