A little boy experiences the way to Neudeck
Memories of home
A little boy, who at that time only knew his hometown of Neuhaus and the meadows and forest where he frolicked with the other children, was allowed to go to town with his father. His mother was worried whether he would be able to make the long journey. But his father said, "He'll be all right, and if he gets tired, I can carry him on my back for a while on the way home. The path went past the Tischer inn up the mountain towards Trinksaifen. A footpath led through low forest to a track in the high forest. "That's called the wide path," said the father.
It was spring, the spruces had sprouted their young shoots and were shining in the fresh green. Downhill they now came to the big road that leads from Frühbuß to Trinksaifen. The forest opened up and from here they could look down into the large valley of Trinksaifen. The boy's eyes opened: "How big is the world?". The houses were scattered far and wide on the slopes of the mountain between the green meadows and fields, down below you could see the blacksmith's forest and the church, and you could see as far as the village of Hochofen. Behind them was the large ridge of the Peindlberg with the lookout tower on top. But the tower was not on the highest point of the mountain. "But father, if the tower were at the top of the mountain, then you could see the world much better from there?". He explained that it only looked like that from here, the tower was already at the top, but the boy couldn't understand that at the time.
Now we went down in serpentines. The little legs were walking by themselves, as there were so many new things to experience. The hike continued through the Schmiedmannwald forest, and a beautiful house stood out, its roof covered with shiny coloured tiles, it was the Villa. Through the church square we went down the valley past a building where many logs were stored and inside a large saw was rattling, the Hojer board saw. He took a quick look inside, but he already knew such a saw from home.
The valley narrowed, the meadows to the left and right of the road were already full of tall grass and fragrant flowers. The boy asked why the grass and flowers were so much more beautiful here than at home. "Yes, spring comes a little later up here, but afterwards it is just as beautiful at home. Down on the valley road was the "Blumental" inn. Yes, there really was a Blumental here! For the first time, the boy saw a railway track and a train that was steaming diagonally across the road to the little station Hochofen. People got off and on, then the train went through a big black hole into the tunnel. That was quite a sight for the boy.
To the left in the valley stood the paper mill, his father could tell how they made paper from wood here and so the boy now knew oh, why at home in the forest the woodcutters stacked up the spruce trunks in 2 m lengths, the so-called "grinders". Later they passed the factory of the ironworks, where there was loud knocking, bubbling and hammering. A sight to see was then the bend in the road, the big rock with the old tower on it. This also had to be explained. From the nearby Kreuzberg, the fresh green of the birches and other deciduous trees shone down.
It was just market day. The stalls and the crowds! The boy was given a long sugar stick to suck on, but he didn't like it here at all, because all he could see through the crowd were the trouser legs and the skirts of the adults, and he was glad when he was out again. His father went to some shops to do some shopping and the boy was often given a piece of candy and was amazed at what was available.
So they started on their way home again. Back at the Blumental Inn, the father said, "From here we'll go home another way. A footpath led up into the forest behind the inn, past large stones. Here it was directly romantic. We crossed the "Eisensteinweg" and at the top we were already crossing meadows and fields again.
The houses of "Fuchswinkel" were down on the right. The first fodder grass was already being mown there. The path led past a small chapel to the Trinksaifer forester's lodge with the big fence around it. One last look back into the village and the high forest took them up again. Woodcutters work here. However, it was a long way through the gloomy forest over the ridge until you could see into the Rohlautal valley again and the road leading from Neuhaus to Neuhammer. Opposite was the ridge of the Hirschkopfberg.
The little legs didn't really want to go any more. "But even the forest came to an end and soon the familiar village of Neuhaus could be seen again through the spruce trunks, down in the valley the houses on the road, the Rohlaub bridge and his parents' house. He walked lightly downhill, over the bridge and back home. His mother said: "Because you're only back" and "Bub, don't your legs hurt at all?"
They hurt him, only he didn't say anything.