Something You Don't See Every Year Down South: Ice! And Not Just A Little, Some Proper Icicles On This

Plan Incliné de Saint-Louis-Arzviller

This is going to be a rather long post as there is a lot to say about this thing! But the short version is: this is a boat lift.

Built in the 1960s, this "inclined plane" was designed to carry barges as part of the fluvial coal transportation industry. However, that trade declined pretty much during the edifice's construction, and today, it almost exclusively serves leisure boats. But if you're going to do a canal cruise, this thing gives it quite the difference!

Its function is that of a lock, taking boats from the lower water level to the higher level, or vice-versa, but it does this by technically being a lift or elevator. A caisson carries the boats and the water up and down, using counterweights to ease the travel.

In fact, the caisson will take on more or less water in order to be heavier or lighter than the counterweights. Though the total mass of the caisson and counterweights is enormous, the difference in mass between them isn't, so very little power is needed to get the system moving, and gravity does most of the work. Two relatively modest electric motors (centre of photo below, steps to the right for scale) start the movement and control the speed.

As such, the system uses comparatively little power, for impressive results. The boat lift was built to bypass a "ladder" of 17 locks which required a whole day to go through, while the travel time of the lift is just 4 minutes. The ride is seamless and very comfortable, effortless even, for reasons mentioned above but also because the effort is distributed across 5 times as many cables as physically required to hold everything together!

Water-tightness is also extremely important, not just for the caisson obviously, but also for the other doors, particularly the top door, which is holding back a whole length of canal. A serious incident in 2013 has led to further reinforcement of redundancies and the construction of an emergency dam closer to the lift in the event of major leaks.

With a lot of freight traffic in mind, the structure was actually designed for two caissons, side-by-side, as evidenced by a second gate hole visible at the top of the ramp (4th picture), and extra space at the bottom, visible in the final picture below. Doubling the caissons would have meant doubling the counterweights, and a second set of rails were laid for that scenario and are visible in the 4th picture. As mentioned earlier, demand dwindled as the lift was being built, so it never operated with two caissons.

For a long time, this place was a childhood memory, visited during a school trip. In my hiking spree after the 2020 and 2021 lockdowns, I sought this place out again and was glad to see it was still working. And just this week, I returned with my parents and rode the lift! It's without doubt one of my favourite pieces of engineering.

Schirmeck castle

Overseeing the valley of Schirmeck, the castle, built for the Bishop of Strasbourg in the 13th century, is a short walk and climb from the town centre. As it was designed to protect a corner of the territory, that's apparently where we get the term: Schirm'eck. It was defeated by the Swedish during the Thirty-Years War, with some of the stone from the ruins being used to build other structures, such as the church.

Today, there's obviously not much of it left, though a square tower was restored and houses a small museum (closed when I visited). The Yoshi art was probably not part of the original episcopal aesthetic...

Remembering Eddie Jordan

I started watching Formula 1 properly around 1998, which meant that my introduction to the Jordan Grand Prix team, which made its top-class debut in 1991, was with the awesome yellow and black "hornet" liveries. The squad mounted an unlikely title challenge with Heinz-Harald Frentzen in 1999, and, while I was more of a Häkkinen fan at the time, if Frentzen had done it, I'd've been chuffed too.

Unfortunately, I cannot remember seeing any of these "hornet" cars in person. But I have seen a couple of Jordan's cars up close: a Honda-powered EJ12 at the Honda Collection Hall at Motegi (1st picture), and the second, at the private collection of the Manoir de l'Automobile in Brittany. It is painted in the team's 1997 "snake" livery, but it's not a 1997 car (the airbox out of shot is wrong). It has a high nose, which Jordan started using in 1996, so it could be a repainted demo car recycling the 1996 type, but then the sidepods are wrong! I think it's a 1995 car, with a 1996 nose, in the 1997 colours. What a mess!

Ultimately, Jordan was a midfield team that allowed good drivers to beat the front runners from time to time, and that, for one year, looked like it could morph into a top squad itself. Alas, that didn't transpire, but I will remember the yellow cars very fondly.

Cheers, Eddie!

Some life in the rock pools of Hashigui-iwa! The crabs in the first picture were very small, but the one hiding in the second picture was more sizeable. I forget how big, but it was big enough to observe scuttling for shelter as I approached. Closest match on iNaturalist appears to be the Striped Shore Crab, which grows up to 5 cm.

The local birds of prey, likely kites, were also out, surveying the area.

Rheinfall: up close, personal and wet

Let's start by crunching the numbers: the Rhine falls in Switzerland are 23 m tall and 150 m wide (boat for scale). On average, in summer, 600 cubic metres of water pass through every second. That's 600 000 Litres - assuming you need 2 L of water per day and will live to 80 years old, that's easily 10 times more water than you will drink in your entire lifetime, past your eyes in one second. Every second. Of every day. They don't turn this off at night!

Obviously, this is quite the unstoppable force, and the people at Rheinfall have figured out several ways to allow visitors to witness this force up close. A trail down from Schloss Laufen to the river side includes several platforms right next to the rushing water. It's noisy, it's impressive, and definitely humbling to be almost in the path of a wall of water.

But several steps further are available: boat rides that go against the current, right into the stream of the waterfall, and, not to be outdone, a boat that goes to the jagged rock smack in the middle of the falls, and drops you off for 20 minutes. I didn't do those because I was wet enough just from the rain, but it was tempting. So was a zip line in the hills, but man, if there was a zip line crossing the Rhine in view of the falls - not over them directly because that would spoil it for everyone else, but around where one of the boat crossings is -, that would be incredible!

Speaking of that rock in the middle, I love it. It's a masterpiece of erosion, and still taking the full force of the Rhine... for now. In a few thousand years I guess we won't be sending so many people there.

Another quick one today I'm afraid, but some really nice memories from just over 4 years ago: a proper layer of snow and frozen ponds at the Citadelle.

Karlsruhe Palace

Thought I'd pop up to Karlsruhe today; it's not very far and I'd never been. It was... well, OK for a light outing. There's a lot of construction work going on in town, and it wasn't very animated being late January. Still, the weather was good enough for a pleasant walk around the centrepiece, the Palace, which houses the history museum of the State of Baden.

Karlsruhe is a relatively young town, by European history standards, as it was founded in 1715 as a new seat of power for the Margrave of Baden. A symmetric living building with a rear wing mounted by a tower was surrounded by vast gardens, and streets radiated out from the palace - a rather original urban arrangement, I don't remember seeing it in other places. Following French invasion in the late 18th century, Emperor Napoleon granted Baden the status of Grand Duchy: the ruler gained access to more riches and symbols such as a crown, a throne...

The Grand Duchy was briefly overthrown in a revolution in 1849, and abolished entirely following the fall of the German Empire in 1918. The region of Baden, stretching from Mannheim and Karlsruhe in the North, along the East side of the Rhine down to Freiburg and Konstanz, became a Republic within the Weimar Republic, and merged with neighbouring Württemberg, the area around Stuttgart, into the Land of Baden-Württemberg we have today in 1952. Baden was the smaller of the two former Grand Duchies, and was more reticent to the merger, as this poster in the museum shows.

"This is what the merger will be like!"

Ultimately, the merger wasn't as bad a deal as feared: when a Baden-only referendum was held in 1970, a return to a split was emphatically rejected. Still, it is not rare to see the yellow and red flag of Baden in the South-West corner of Germany - I've seen it outside a drinks hut near Oberkirch (bottom left picture) and on several castle ruins. It naturally flies atop the Karlsruhe Palace tower.

I'm a bit low on inspiration and time today (work starting to pile up), so here's a train in the snow from the recent trip to Mulhouse and Thann. The train itself is a bi-mode Regiolis B84500 set, waiting at Mulhouse as the Sun sets.

Summer highlight reel: Hegau

Towering around 250 m above the industrial city of Singen, the Hohentwiel is one of many reminders of the geological history near the Bodensee, or Lake Constance. This whole area was once volcanic, then the softer rock was eroded by the ice age, leaving this type of steep structure, around the old volcanic tube, behind.

A mountain like this would not have been easy to climb, especially when laden with weapons and armour, so unsurprisingly, several summits have fortress ruins on them. Hohentwiel is one of them (more on that and the climb - oh, the climb! - in another post), and Hohenkrähen, that rock jutting out ahead, is another.

The views from the top of Hohentwiel are just splendid. Two more ex-volcanoes are visible here: the Hohenstoffeln to the left, and the Hohenhewen to the right - there are lots of 'hohens' in Hegau, but it just means they're higher than villages. The weather was something to admire that day too, with showers floating around, like this one over the Schaffhausen area.

After that news post, back to Thann, for this view of the Thur valley and the Vosges mountains. On the day of my visit, I climbed here first, before continuing along a ridge to the Grumbach summit and down to the Grumbach pass, before circling back down to Engelbourg Castle which I posted about first. A nice hike, not too difficult - most of the climbing is done when you've reached the Roche Albert viewpoint. There's something to be said about why it's called "Albert's Rock", but I'll save that for another time.