Osterwald greeted us with an eerie stillness that morning, dew on the roadside grass, fog hanging like lace over the tight, rising roads, and the treeline

Somewhere between Schlüchtern and Fulda, where the hills roll softly and the traffic thins to a gentle hum, lies the Landrücken, a modest but serene mountain

The fog was just lifting as we rolled into the winding greens of Burgwald. A dense forest canopy arched over the serpentine asphalt, soft morning light

There’s something about Westerwald that lingers with you. The rolling roads carved through misty green forests, the occasional climb that pushes your foot