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When I was young, I took a walking tour through Europe.  I started at Cherbourg in France and intended to end at Trieste on the Adriatic,  but something happened in the Austrian alps that interrupted my plans.  I had spent the night at an Inn in a town nestled in the Alpine foothills and after breakfast the next morning I prepared to resume my journey.  At the front desk, I paid my bill and asked the manager about the route over the mountains.

The manager nodded amiably and pulled a folded highway map from under the counter.  "It is very simple," he said, spreading the map out on the counter. "Follow the highway."  He ran his finger along a blue line that curved around the mountains before swinging south  to drop down to Trieste on the Adriatic.  "You cannot get lost.  Plenty food and lodging along the way."

"There must be a shorter way," I objected, and pointed to a faint line that wandered snakelike through the mountains.

"No good," said the old man.  "Too dangerous.  No food, no lodging."

"I don't mind sleeping rough," I told him.  "But why is it dangerous?  Is it the weather?"

"Not at this time of year," he said.  "You don't have to worry about snow...."  The old man looked at me and shrugged.  "Well, strange things happen up there.  It's the altitude, they say.  Sometimes people disappear.  Sometimes they never come back.  Those that do come back sometimes tell strange stories."

"What kind of stories?"

The manager laughed.  "It is not important.  You can have the map for five Schillings.  But avoid the mountain road."

I bought the map, but I disregarded the innkeeper's advice.  A couple of miles beyond the edge of the village, I found where the unpaved road on the map diverged from the highway and began its winding way up into the mountains.  I did not bother to ponder my decision; I took the less traveled road for it promised the most spectacular scenery and strode along happily singing "The Happy Wanderer."

I love to go a wandering along the mountain track
And as I go, I love to sing, my knapsack on my back...


I had only gone a few miles,  when a young woman overtook me on a mountain bike.  She was a fine sight in her white shorts, T-shirt and sneakers.  Her blonde hair was tied in a pony tail that danced behind her head as she pumped the bike up the sloping roadway with strong, steady movements of her smooth well-muscled legs; bicyclists did not wear helmets back then.  She pedaled on a few yards, then stopped and stood there astride her bike looking back at me.

"Good morning!" I called out as I drew near.

"Are you English?" she asked, but it sounded more like "ainglich."

"American," I said.

"Are you going as far as Riesenstein?" she asked.

"Is that the next village?" I asked, as I passed her.

"Yes, but you will not reach it today.  Not on foot."  She began to push the bike to keep up with me.

"Then I will camp out tonight," I side.  "Do you live in Riesenstein?"

She frowned.  "You should not go there.  It is not safe."

I laughed.  "If it is safe for you, it will be safe for me."

"You are a stranger," she said.  "You should go back to the highway.  Hitchhiking is less dangerous than this road.  There places where the path is very narrow and you could easily fall to your death."

"I'll be careful," I said.

"Yes, be very careful," she said.  She swung her leg over the bike and started to pull away.  "Perhaps I will see you tomorrow in Riesenstein!" she shouted over her shoulder and she was gone.  I waved to her as she resumed pumping her way up the hill and picked up my pace.

"Valderi," I sang.  "Valdera!  Valdera ha, ha, ha, ha!"

The morning wore away as I marched along, and then the afternoon.  As the sun threatened to disappear behind the mountains I found a cleft in the cliffs where there was grass and a spring.  It was a tempting location, so I made it my campsite.  I lit no fire, despite the quickly dropping temperatures but ate tinned rations instead.

 It was cold that night, but I had a warm sleeping bag; I awoke the next morning eager for the trail.

The path rose gently but steadily for I had not yet reached the summit.   Before long, under the direct rays of the ascending sun, I found myself belting out the lyrics to "The Happy Wanderer" as I marched along.

The road became narrower; there was a sheer dropoff to my right and a sheer cliff to my left.  For a long stretch the road curved to the left around the mountain peak I was traversing.

There was no warning.  Suddenly a huge figure appeared in the road from around the bend.  I froze and stared at what could not be standing in front of me, but undeniably was.  There was a giantess, a fifty foot tall barefoot woman wearing a simple red dress that reached halfway to her knees.  Her hair was dark and her face might have been beautiful but for a menacing smirk that twisted her features.  She stood with arms akimbo, looking at me, then threw back her head and emitted a loud, booming peal of laughter.

Then she looked down at me again and said, "What have we here?  An innocent traveler, a stranger on his way to Riesinstein perhaps?"

She was big, but my first instinct was  to assume she meant me no harm.  "I am hiking to Trieste," I said.  "I expect to pass through Riesinstein today."
She leaned forward slightly and bowed her head.  "What?  Speak up, you little pipsqueak.  What did you say?"

I repeated my words, shouting at the top of my voice.

"I don't think so, little fellow," she said.  "When I am through with you, you won't be going anywhere."  Then she took a step toward me and then I turned and ran.

It is hard to run fast when you are looking over your shoulder to see if a giant is gaining on you, and it is even harder to avoid tripping.  I didn't get very far before I fell flat and she was on top of me and she reached down and took hold of me with one hand.  Slowly she lifted me up to her face and then looked at me with an evil smile on her face.  A deep gutteral laugh came out of her.

My hat slid off my head and my knapsack disappeared somewhere, probably while I was trying to run.  I looked into her face and she opened her mouth and showed me her huge teeth.

Then I screamed for help and she just laughed at me.

"No one is going to help you little man!" she said.

Again I let out a scream and braced myself for whatever horror was to come, but then her attention was draw from me and she lowered her hand a few feet.  Her hand turned and I was able to see what she was looking at.  Down below, on the ground was the woman in white togs on her bicycle.  She had come to a halt some yards away and stood astride her bicycle looking up at the giantess and at me held in the giantess's hand.

The woman on the bicycle seemed so small and helpless and an amazing thing happened; for a moment I forgot my own terror and cried out to her "Run for it!  Save yourself!  Get going!"

But the woman did not react as I expected.  She lay her bike down,  stood with arms out from her side.  She began to sing a high pitched note, like a yodel, and lifted her arms slowly up over her head.  As she did, her body began to grow larger and larger, as did her clothing and sneakers and after a few seconds she was the same height as the giantess who held me in her hand.

"Give him to me!" said the blonde giantess.  "Give him to me and we will pretend that this did not happen."

The dark haired giantess only laughed, then turned and placed me on a ledge of the cliff that formed one side of the road.  As I watched in amazement the two giantesses assumed fighting stances and move cautiously toward one another, their hands brushing the air to the left and right between, them their eyes locked together.

There was no contact as they danced and maneuvered around each other like wrestlers sizing up their opponent, each looking for an opening or a chance to catch the other one off balance.  I realized my fate depended on which giantess won this fight for I was convinced that the blonde giantess was my rescuer and the dark-haired giantess would kill me when she had had her fun with me.

The end came with incredible swiftness and it was horrifying to behold.  As they circled around one another, there was a moment with the dark haired giantess turned her back to the abyss as she maneuvered to keep her enemy in front of her.  The blonde giantess slashed out with a swift kick to the chest that sent the dark giantess backward over the edge.  She fell screaming into the void, but the screams were cut off by a crashing and then the rumble of falling rocks avalanching down the mountain side.

For a moment, the winner stood with her hands on her hips gazing down into the depths.  Then she turned and approached the ledge on which I stood.  I could not help shrinking from her huge presence as she approached and held out her hand, palm up.  I pressed myself against the cliff wall and looked from her big hand up to her gigantic, god like face blotting out the sky.

"Don't be afraid," she said.  "I just want to help you down safely."  

With a tremendous effort of will, I moved slowly toward her outstretched hand and climbed onto her palm.  Slowly, gently, she lowered her hand until I was able to slide out onto the ground and stand on my on two feet.  For a moment, she stooped over me, studying me.  "Are you gut?"

"Yes, I am good," I said.  My heartbeat was returning to normal.  "You saved my life."

The woman straightened up and raised her hands over her head until they pointed at the sky.  Then she began to sing a descending scale as she lowered her hands to her side.  As she lowered her arms, she shrank rapidly down to normal size.  I stood watching in awe and wonder.  So many impossible things had happened in the last half hour I had abandoned any attempt to understand what I was experiencing.

When she had resumed normal size, she walked over to where her bicycle lay. I moved to stand beside her as she looked at it sadly.  The bicycle was just a piece of junk now, crushed sometime during the battle of the Titans by a giant foot.  "Thank you for saving me.  I am sorry about your bike."

She looked at me.  "I was worried about you," she said.  "I decided to cycle out here and see how you were doing.  I had heard Jasmin was in one of her moods."

"Who is Jasmin?" I asked.

She pointed to the edge of the drop off.  "That was Jasmin.  She is dead now."

"Oh."

We exchanged names.

"I am Carl."

"I am Annika."
  Then she said, "Riesinstein is not far, but we had better get going if we want to make it by lunch time."

I looked around for my cap and my knapsack, but there was no sign of it.

"Come along," said Annika.  "We do not haf time for that."

We walked along the mountain track in silence for awhile until I could not hold back the questions any longer.  "How did you do that?"

"I had no choice," said Annika.  "Poor Jasmin.  Some women cannot handle the power.  It clouds their minds."

"No, I mean, how did you make yourself big like that?"

"Oh, the magic," she replied.  "I cannot tell you.  It is just magic.  Save your breath, we have a long walk ahead of us yet and we needs to pick up the pace."
We hurried along the trail for awhile before I asked another question.  "Would it not be faster if you made yourself big again?  You could cover twenty feet with every step."

"I cannot leave you out here alone," she said.  "It is not safe for you."

"You could carry me," I pointed out.

She looked at me and smiled.  "Would you like that?"

"Not really," I admitted.  "I was just being practical."

"You Americans like to be practical," Annika said.  "But it is dangerous to use the power.  Have you read 'The Lord of the Rings?'"

"Yes, I have," I said.  "I think I get your point.  You do not want to become like Jasmin."

She replied with a single word:"Genau."

                                                        ***
Riesinstein was a very small village perched high in the mountains.  The air was so thin it made me feel a bit giddy. As we walked along the street between two rows of cottages, I asked, "How many people live here?"

"About a hundred," said Annika.  "We try to keep it about that."

All the inhabitants appeared to be women; they were all young and healthy looking and included all hair and eye colorings.  "Is there an inn?" I asked.
Annika shook her head.  "You can stay with me.  We don't get many visitors, so we do not need an inn."

"Shouldn't you ask your husband first?"

"No need," she said.

She took me to her cottage where she heated a pot of stew and we ate.  Afterward, she said, "There is some wood to chop, if you do not mind."

So I chopped wood all afternoon and late into the evening.  I really did not mind and I was really grateful to her for rescuing me from Jasmin.  About sun down, after I had a bath in a warm tub of water, she fed me again on bread, sausages, and potatoes.  It was simple, but wholesome fair.  She brought out a bottle of Schnapps and we drank several glasses while she questioned me about my life and about America.

Finally, she brought up the subject of sleeping arrangements.  "You will sleep with me, of course, unless you are a girly man.  Es gut?"

"No problem," I said.

"The death of Jasmin means room for one more girl," said Annika.  "Since you were responsible for her death, it is only right that you should help replace her."

"Hold on!" I said, and jumped to my feet so quickly the chair fell over behind me.  "I don't want no kid, not yet.  And I don't believe in sowing wild oats, either."

"You feelings do you credit, Carl," said Annika.  "But you have an obligation to try.  If you fail, that will not be held against you, but you must try."

I looked toward the door.  It was cold out there, and I did not have my sleeping bag.

"You may not leave town," said Annika.  "If you try, you will brought back."

I stared at her.  "I see.  You think because you have this weird power you can make me do as you wish."

She nodded.  "Yes, I can make you do as I wish.  But do not worry.  I am not Jasmin.  I wish you no harm.  In a year or two, you will be free to go."

"A year or two?"

"If you can give me a girl, you may leave after she is born," said Annika.  "If it is a boy, you may leave, but you must take your son with you."

I did my best, and I was lucky.  The first child was a girl and when she was born alive and perfect, I was allowed to leave the village.  They gave me a knapsack and a few things that I would need to hike out of the mountains.  I regretted leaving little Amanda behind, but Annika insisted that she must remain to take the place of poor Jasmin who died because of me.  So I left that place; the only pleasure it held for me had been those nights in Annika's bed, which ended as soon as she became pregnant.  The rest of my time was devoted to endless chores that Annika put me to in order to earn my keep.

 The mountains of Austria are beautiful and you could do worse than to go hiking there, but you should avoid the road to Riesenstein.  However,  if you should find yourself there, and you meet a young woman named Amanda, who says  her mother's name is Annika, tell Amanda that Dad says Hi.



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