Kalkutta lies on the river Ganges, Paris lies on the river Seine… and Unterhaching lies on the “Hachinger Bach”.
The Hachinger Bach is the one and only water hole at Unterhaching. It goes north to the Bavarian Capital. In Munich, you can see it at Perlach (for example at the Pfanzeltplatz), then it continues through Neuperlach. Later, it is forced underground underneath concrete, before finally disappearing in the sewage system of the big city. A short time ago, I read about plans to re-liberate it at Berg-am-Laim and make it flow on the surface again.
I love the Hachinger Bach!
On my way to work at InterFace, I arrive at Unterhaching from the Ottobrunner Straße, then I turn right at the police station into Grünauer Allee, before taking a left turn into Korbinianstraße. One end of the Korbinianstraße turns left towards Badstraße.
I, however, take a right turn, because this is where my “idyll” starts – a small path along the Hachinger Bach. This is where I enjoy the last metres of my way to work, before passing the kindergarten and returning to the noise on Biberger Straße – where I finally sit down at my office desk.
The path near the Hachinger Bach is marked as a pedestrian’s path. There is also a sign saying that dogs must be on a leash. And, of course, it says that there will be no snow-plow service in winter.
This nice path is always empty in the morning. Very seldom, I meet a biker. Once in a while, I meet a pedestrian walking his or her dog. Needless to say that the biker coming from the opposite side does not push his or her bike and that the dog usually is not on a leash. Anyway, it happens rarely that I meet true pedestrians on this path.
I ride here almost daily. The very few people I meet are by now familiar to me by sight. We give us a friendly time of day and make room for each other.
I always ride quite slowly whenever I meet someone, because I know quite well that it is a pedestrian’s path and I do not want to scare or annoy anybody. This is how it is and how it has been working quite well for twenty years (since 1992).
A short time ago, on a wet and rainy day, I also rode here. An elderly gentleman comes from the opposite direction. He looks fairly old, very dynamic, but also somehow soldierly. Although his appearance is rather striking, I have never seen him before.
He looks at me and his countenance darkens. And then he strikes a pose in the middle of the narrow path that makes him look really broad. Then he hisses at me in a rather loud voice:
“This here is not a cyclist’s path!”
Well, once in a while, I am in a provocative mood. And so my spontaneous answer is:
“Yes, Colonel!”
And then I push my bike past him.
Afterwards, I hear him yell after me:
“You stupid son of a bitch!”
Well, I refrained from answering (the answer might have started with the letter “a”). Instead, I rode on through the idyll!
RMD