The Wettersteinmandl Legend: A Guardian Angel in the Partnach Gorge | engelchanneling®
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◆ The Legend of the Wettersteinmandl is True! ◆
In 2010, we planned a hike through the Partnach Gorge with our son, who was seven at the time. It was our very first time visiting the area.
With my Nikon camera in hand, as always, we began our ascent. As we progressed, the trail became increasingly steep, with sheer drops plunging into the abyss just inches away. Our son was full of energy, racing ahead, barely containable. Despite several warnings, his childish urge for freedom and movement took over, and he remained reckless.
While I was trying to take a photo of a particularly steep cliff, my camera suddenly jammed. I tried a few times—nothing. No shutter release.
When I looked up from the viewfinder, I saw my son about ten feet ahead of me, darting dangerously close to the edge of the precipice. My heart skipped a beat, and I let out a scream.
Then, everything happened in the blink of an eye. He slipped. But in an inexplicable burst of speed, he was shoved toward the rock wall by an invisible hand. At that exact microsecond, the camera in my hand triggered all by itself.
The three of us stood there, paralyzed by shock, but immensely relieved that he was safe. Naturally, a verbal thunderbolt followed, and for the rest of the hike, our son walked slowly along the secure paths against the rock.
From that moment on, the camera worked perfectly again.
Back at home, we looked at the photo the camera had taken on its own. See for yourselves. It is important to note: there were only three of us, and nobody was level with my son. The figure you see on the right is translucent, wearing clothing that was definitely not from our time. On the left is our son. We are deeply grateful to this spirit—or perhaps it was a Guardian Angel? But the story didn't end there.
◆ The Legend of the Wettersteinmandl ◆
Under the brightest sunshine, young Hias set out for a hike into the Reintal valley. But by the time he reached the exit of the dark Partnach Gorge, the weather took a sudden and violent turn. Thunder rolled, lightning flashed, and heavy downpours set in.
Seeking shelter under an overhanging rock at the edge of the Partnach river, Hias watched as a lightning bolt struck directly above him. Terrified, the boy stumbled and fell into the churning, frothing waters. He thought he heard a mocking laugh through the roar. He was as good as lost—the raging current would have surely smashed him against the jagged rocks—when suddenly, he felt a powerful hand pull him from the water. Hias thought he was dreaming and rubbed his eyes in disbelief. His savior was an ancient, yet incredibly strong man. The old man squinted at Hias and spoke with a gruff voice:
"You got lucky, my boy! One second later and your young life would have been over!" He took the shivering boy by the hand and led him to a hidden hut built entirely of bark. As the storm continued to rage, the old man suddenly burst out: "Damn it! That foolish weather witch just can't leave it be! I knew she was up to something the moment I heard her mocking laughter."
The old man threw open the door and shouted up at the cliffs: "You crazy witch! Don't you dare try that again!" In that moment, Hias thought he truly saw a witch-like figure up on the ridge, hurling a brilliant bolt of lightning downward.
Eventually, the storm cleared, and the old man led Hias back to the river. "It’s the exact same spot," he muttered, pulling the boy toward the place where he had fallen in.
"Look!" cried the astonished Hias. "The Partnach is clear over there, but just past that point, the water turns green!" "Exactly, little one," the old man grunted. "And because I like you, I'll tell you why:
Years ago, high in the rocks, I found a fine pigment used in Italy to dye the robes of princes. It was so pure and intense that I filled an entire wooden barrel with it to sell in Venice. On my way to the merchant train in Garmisch, I had to cross the Partnach right where you fell today. Back then, there was only a narrow footbridge. A storm brewed, and I knew exactly who was behind it. I shouted to the sky: 'Go on, weather witch, don't make it crash so hard. Can't you see I've got a barrel of precious dye on my back?'
But that only spurred the foolish witch on. She made the Partnach rise, and when I was right on the bridge, she hurled a lightning bolt that knocked me into the flood. I managed to save myself just before the entrance of the gorge, but the precious dye was lost. When I returned to the spot, I noticed the river had turned green from that point on—and so it shall remain forever."
The strange old fellow stared pensively into the water, watching the bright green waves ripple. Then he stomped his foot and shouted: "But today I outsmarted you, you wretched weather witch! You didn't plunge this boy into misfortune!" Turning to Hias, he said: "Quite a sight, isn't it? Things are lively here in the Wetterstein. You were lucky the Wettersteinman spotted you. Good luck! For no one besides you has ever seen me!" With those words, he vanished into the dense forest.
Hias suddenly remembered an old legend his grandmother used to tell about the Wettersteinman. "Wait until they hear this at home—that I actually met the Wettersteinman!" Hias laughed and happily made his way back.
Author and © Jasmina Gröschel
