Ice in the Mountains

The sun rises on our second morning in Brannenburg, Germany. After almost a week straight of days filled with either travelling or touring, it seemed our group was almost a little relieved to have a day full of nothing but class. Today was a day where we could sit down, catch up on assignments, and finally do some laundry. It was a day to relax our tired feet. I know that was what I had in mind as I rolled out of bed, slipped on some flip flops, and headed downstairs for class. For the first thirty seconds of my day, everything seemed to be going exactly as I planned. This was right up until I rounded the corner on the stairwell, felt my right heel miss the back of my flip flop, felt my ankle roll over on itself, and collapsed into a heap about two stairs down.

Thankfully, I have been healthy for most of my life. However, the one area where I have had multiple injuries, mostly from sports, has been my lower legs and especially my right ankle. As I laid on the stairway holding it, I had a brief moment of panic. This was going to be a long, miserable summer if I was unable to walk. Luckily after a few seconds of inspection, and a few test limps, I realized that nothing was seriously injured. However, considering we’d been walking eight to twelve miles a day on our tours, I knew I needed to be sure I treated this right. After lunch I approached Mrs. Davis and asked if there was anywhere I could find some ice and maybe an ace bandage. She quickly found two students to go down into the village and search for me, but they returned empty handed. If you’re thinking that it seems strange to not be able to find ice in an entire village, it isn’t. For some reason, no one in Germany seems to use ice. I haven’t had a truly cold beverage in weeks, much less the ability to ice my ankle.

Suddenly, Mrs. Davis had an idea. We are staying in a small village at the base of the Alps in Bavaria and, as luck would have it, right behind our hostel flows an ice-cold alpine stream. It took a few minutes of limping for me to get down the bank, but as I lowered my ankle into the freezing meltwater I quickly felt a numbing relief wash over the area. Sitting on a rock in that tiny forest stream made me realize that I can always find beauty if I’m looking for it. Even as I limped back uphill to the hostel, I knew this was definitely one of the best “bad” days I’ve ever had.