Schellenberg Ice Cave
This is the entrance hall of the Schellenberg ice cave called Josef Ritter von Angermayer Halle. About 500 m in length, the tour leads along steps and ramps, through tunnels an passages and over ice falls down to the deepest part, the Fuggerhalle, 55 m lower than the cave's entrance. As the cave slopes downward from the entrance, the cold winter air remains in the cave all summer long. For thousands of years snow and rainwater froze in the cave's extremely cold temperatures, in some places the ice crust is 30 m thick.
The Schellenberger ice cave has a typical morphology, the cave is going down continually from the entrance. This works as a cold trap, as cold air flows in during winter, as it is colder than the warmer air in the cave. In summer the heavier cold air is not able to leave the cave again, it is trapped. This phenomena is used by supermarket fridges, which keep the content cool although their top lap is open. The water from the surrounding rocks is warmer, especially the meltwater during snow melt, but when it enters the cave with its cool air, it freezes. During the summer the temperature may rise above zero, and some of the ice may melt. But ice caves are so close at the zero degree border, that at least a remains of the ice lasts all year.
From the German side of the mountain the cave is reached by a three hour ascent to the Toni-Lenz-Hütt...
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Germany? Before the beginning there was Ginnungagap, an empty space of nothingness, filled with pure creative power. (Sort of like the inside of my head.)
And it ends with Ragnarok, the twilight of the Gods. In between is much fighting, betrayal and romance. Just as a good Godly story should be.
Heroes have their own graveyard called Valhalla. Unfortunately we cannot show you a panorama of it at this time, nor of the lovely Valkyries who are its escort service.
Hail Odin, wandering God wielding wisdom and wand! Hail Freya, hail Tyr, hail Thor!
But it is to the mighty Thor that the Hammering Man gives service.
Between the time of the Nordic old ones and that of modern Frankfort there may have been a T.Rex or two on the scene. At least some mastodons for sure came through for lunch, then fell into tar pits to become fossils for us to find.
And there we must leave you, O my most pure and holy children.
Text by Steve Smith.