In single file they walk through untouched, unseen nature. Here is a world where maybe no man has set foot before, strange and without compassion. Reinhold jokes about rumours about prehistoric wildlife, hidden here in the valley of the Ammer for millenia. Beasts that hunt small mammals with razorsharp fangs. He laughs merrily, but nobody else joins in. They scan the surroundings carefully, frightened, whenever Finskei isn't looking.

Soon it becomes obvious that the river itself will be the next major obstacle in their path. The location they have chosen for their first camp is on the river's far side. The rivers seems easy enough to wade through at first, but appearences are deceiving: certain wetness of their feet would be the unavoidable consequence. Desperation looms.

Their gear saves the day: they tie a rope to a solid piece of rock, projecting out over the Ammer, and swing comfortably across the wild waters. Soon they see on their right the parking garage where they will wait out the night.

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