(I should have written this post a year ago but other topics got priority. Better late than never, right?)
When I lived in the Netherlands I never felt quite at home. Life there was smooth but something was missing. I did not feel like it was MY country. I knew my stay was just temporary and I would eventually move on.
However, from my very first visit on, I felt like I belonged to Berdorf. Always when I pitched my tent at Martbusch Campground, late on a Friday night after a 6 hour long drive, I had arrived home. The whole Dutch (and Belgian and North German) climbing community would fill the magic forests of Berforf to climb on the beautiful sandstone walls.
The compact crag area consists of some 160 routes. Almost every route, ranging from 4c to 8c, deserves a star rating. There is something for everyone's liking: long sustained routes or short bouldery climbs, fingery crimps and smooth slopers or big jugs, overhang or slab. The rock quality is exceptionally solid with good grip, although at spots a bit sandy.
We eagerly started Berforf seasons as early as possible, on crispy April days when we could barely feel our fingers, and kept going till September when days were already getting short. Unpredictable weather makes planning sometimes quite difficult, as rain forecasts in the area are rarely accurate. It is never too hot to climb there, though. And it is always worth checking the rock situation, as strangely it can be wet at the campsite but dry at the crag.
My love for Berdorf is not only in the great climbing, though. When one arrives down into the valley, midst the featured walls and lush forests, it is hard not to imagine fairies and elfs peaking around the corners. During the two years of spending every possible weekend in Berforf, I got to know each wall and path like my own.
Spending evenings at the tents - cooking, drinking, sharing stories, laughing - was the place and time where I could be myself. Being outdoors with like-minded people was what I wanted. As long as it did not rain both days, on Sunday afternoons I left home happily, already thinking about what I would climb next time.
When I lived in the Netherlands I never felt quite at home. Life there was smooth but something was missing. I did not feel like it was MY country. I knew my stay was just temporary and I would eventually move on.
However, from my very first visit on, I felt like I belonged to Berdorf. Always when I pitched my tent at Martbusch Campground, late on a Friday night after a 6 hour long drive, I had arrived home. The whole Dutch (and Belgian and North German) climbing community would fill the magic forests of Berforf to climb on the beautiful sandstone walls.
 |
| Popular on weekends |
The compact crag area consists of some 160 routes. Almost every route, ranging from 4c to 8c, deserves a star rating. There is something for everyone's liking: long sustained routes or short bouldery climbs, fingery crimps and smooth slopers or big jugs, overhang or slab. The rock quality is exceptionally solid with good grip, although at spots a bit sandy.
We eagerly started Berforf seasons as early as possible, on crispy April days when we could barely feel our fingers, and kept going till September when days were already getting short. Unpredictable weather makes planning sometimes quite difficult, as rain forecasts in the area are rarely accurate. It is never too hot to climb there, though. And it is always worth checking the rock situation, as strangely it can be wet at the campsite but dry at the crag.
My love for Berdorf is not only in the great climbing, though. When one arrives down into the valley, midst the featured walls and lush forests, it is hard not to imagine fairies and elfs peaking around the corners. During the two years of spending every possible weekend in Berforf, I got to know each wall and path like my own.
 |
| The best route - Yellow Submarine |
Spending evenings at the tents - cooking, drinking, sharing stories, laughing - was the place and time where I could be myself. Being outdoors with like-minded people was what I wanted. As long as it did not rain both days, on Sunday afternoons I left home happily, already thinking about what I would climb next time.
