Saturday, August 11, 2018


I deeply, passionately love the mountains. Dunno why that is - apparently my neurons are wired just that way. But Nature played a trick on me. I'm not completely free of vertigo. So while I cannot resist the call of the mountains, chains and via ferrata do scare me - every time again I have to conquer my inner self before I can conquer the iron ladder with the steps driven in bare rock. And I'm definitely never gonna end up halfway a perpendicular stone wall the way some of the guys in the following video do:

Until six years ago, I dreamed of one day making it to the top of the Matterhorn. I came as far as the Hoernlihuette, at 3,320m, looked up at that great conical mass that's the real thing, and knew I would NEVER make it to THAT top. I know my limits and am content with that; my mind is at ease. And there's still so many lesser summits to scale which are within my reach. For next year I have set my sights on Switzerland's Weissmies (4,017m). I climbed Allalinhorn (4,025m) in the same canton - Wallis - with no problems whatsoever (using the services of a guide to be sure). And I'm told that if you can do Allalinhorn Weissmies won't be a problem either. Both mountains are perfect for beginners and would be alpinists like your servant. Another vid with somewhat less glamour gives you an idea of a Weissmies ascent:

We will see! John Muir I know how you felt but for the moment I gotta concentrate on filling both the summer gaps in my finances AND the coffers of the Belgian State!




So apparently, today, August 11, is Gay Pride Day in Antwerp. Enjoy it while you can all of you pervs, because by 2030 or so, when the Sinjorenstad will have turned into an islamic hellhole, I guess the City Council will be somewhat less flexible in issuing permits for this kind of shit:

The gay pride insanity brings me to a compelling article on a directly related subject, over at American Thinker, by David Solway:

"... Although I regard the reduction of identity to one's sexual preferences, whatever these might be, as a diminishment of the complex spectrum of human personality, I have nothing against the practice of homosexuality – to each his own – and considered it a non-issue and none of my business. I do not like to interfere in other people's personal lives. Then and now, however, I believed as a matter of principle that redefining marriage was another kettle entirely. People can manage their private passions as they wish, provided they remain within the common law, but marriage has to be defended not only as a binding compact between two people and an expression of religious faith, but as a social institution whose role is twofold: the preservation of cultural life and the procreation of the species.

For these reasons, marriage can be only a contract between a man and woman. Love, companionship, spiritual and intellectual reciprocity are desirable goods, but from the institutional perspective, such golden qualities are sufficient though not necessary conditions. As the backbone of the social covenant and the sine qua non of reproductive duration, marriage is more than merely a ritual performance or a consumer accessory. Romance and compatibility will sweeten and strengthen commitment and avowal, but the essential point is that the contractual heterosexual union is the driving force of human culture and the warranty of human survival.

When the institution of marriage is compromised; when single mothers proliferate and are even applauded; when children are separated or alienated from their parents; when the bonds of heterosexual intimacy are breached; when gender politics sabotages concord between the sexes; when same-sex couples receive the same rights, privileges, and rewards as child-bearing couples; and when matrimony becomes the prerogative of any group whatsoever with no relation to fecundity or cultural stability, the underpinnings of Western society will inevitably collapse.

This is why Marxism, for example, considers marriage an institution that needs to be destroyed, since procreant marriage with all its attendant responsibilities is the foundation of bourgeois society. This is why its dissolution or misprision is a prerequisite for the revolutionary socialist state in which the pivotal loyalty of the individual belongs to the sovereign collective, not to the family. And this is why calling two men or two women in a union "marriage" has been serially championed by the left.

Marriage in its orthodox acceptation may be in some respects a flawed institution; nevertheless, it is imperative. It is, as I've argued, the basis of civilizational survival, just as the heterosexual union in whatever form it may assume guarantees the survival of the race. Gay "marriage," taken to its reductio ad absurdum, would terminate in the disappearance of the human race from the face of the Earth. In weakening the institution of marriage, gay people calling themselves spouses actually endorse the logic of species annihilation."


Friday, August 10, 2018


As you may have guessed, I was away on vacation with the family, though not for the full three weeks since the radio silence. I consider myself lucky that once again, we had a great time with lots of fun and exciting new sights and sounds. Summer vacation 2018 took me first solo to Bavaria where I climbed Germany's highest, the Zugspitze (2962m). I took the pic below on final approach.

I got there by way of the Reintalroute, which is the easiest one. Easiest one, not counting of course the ascent by cable car, haha. Indeed, the summit of the Zugspitze is a bit of a circus, with scores of tourists coming up without breaking a sweat, to then gobble down bratwurst in the eateries on top, spend their euros on silly tourist stuff in gift shops etc. To be sure, I took the cable car back down, because I figured that if I took the same way back I'd never make it to my hotel before midnight. Indeed, the day before I hiked from Garmisch-Partenkirchen via the Bockhuette and the Reintalangerhuette to the Knorrhuette (ca. 2,050m), where I stayed for the night. I had originally planned to then push right thru to the summit in the morning, take a few pics and get back the same way; but the trek from Knorrhuette to summit took me 4 hours, and it was around eleven when I finally got there. It wasn't doable to get back down to the Knorrhuette and all the way back from there to GP in the remaining daytime. So I took the easy way down. Even so, once at the bottom of the valley, near the Eibsee, I still had to hike an estimated 18 (?) kloms back to the hotel. Anyway... it was fun, exciting, tough at times, and above all beautiful Bavaria was gloriously baking in the sun with a magnificently blue canopy over it.

I hurried back to Belgovakia, did a couple of last minute chores I hadn't been able to finish, then packed the family in the good ole Outlaw Wagon which has carried us safe and sound to so many places, from Achill Island to Niedzica and from Geiranger to Lago Maggiore. And over Nuremberg we reached Prague. Now, Prague was a revelation and a shock. Can't remember if I ever saw so many palaces on so few square kloms. It was... breathtaking, and after only one day the family was in serious danger of Cultural Overkill. This is Saint Vitus Cathedral, the top attraction of Hradcany Palace, but my pitiful photo does not do right at all to the beauty and glory of Prague's Crown:

You will have to go see Prague yourself, and trust me, you won't regret it!

Then it was off via Brno and then through Slovakia to Poland's Tatra Mountains, more precisely Zakopane, where I had booked a mountain hut for a week.

Below the view from our cottage, Chata Stacha on Mount Gubawovka in Zakopane. The silhouette of the distinctive mountain you see there, the Giewont, can, with some imagination, be perceived as that of a sleeping guy, and indeed, Zakopanians refer to Giewont as 'the sleeping Knight'. 'Knight', cause the guy they have in mind is an ancient Polish King, Boleslaw the Brave.

I went up Giewont too. It's only 1894m, and it gives no problems from whatever direction you approach it. Only the last 100m or so pose a bit of a challenge, as the summit is a butte with steep sides you have to negotiate using chains fastened in the rock walls. After Giewont I hiked up the Kondracka Kopa (2005m), why not? It's just crossing the saddle between the two and then up about 250m over a decent path. Look at The Sleeping Knight's head (the part with the cloud plume is his breast, the indentation his throat, the summit his head), between it and the tree leaves to the right is the saddle and the featureless summit of Kondracka Kopa.

It was all over far too soon, and it's a damn pity time is as short in supply here as sane people, cause there's so much else I'd like to elaborate on - Cracow comes to mind. But alas. Anyway, on our last but one day we drove from Zakopane over Zywiec (famous for its beer) and Bielsko Biala to Karpacz, which like Zakopane is a bit of a mountain resort. Only thing is, the Tatras at Z-Town have alpine allures, while the mountains behind Karpacz are far lower and gentler, even though they are called the Giant Mountains. Highest among them is the Sniezka, the summit of which Poland shares with the Czech Republic. As it happens, the Sniezka, at 1,603 meters, is Czechia's highest. On the summit there's a postmodern conflagration of UFO like disks from the communist era:

And this is what the gentle mountains on both sides of the Czech/Slovak border look like:

I'm not a great photographer and I still got an old iPhone4, so these pics prolly don't excite wow feelings towards Central Europe, but trust me, the place is more than worth a decent vacation. So many things to see and do yet, but you won't hear me complainin' - it was oooookay.