I Found the Highest Natural Point of Berlin

On the run for the Müggelberge

Marathon training, let alone ultramarathon training, can quickly turn into a monotonous task. I imagine that’s especially true when you live in a city as I do. I have two routes I run regularly, each one centered around a park––Volkspark Friedrichshain and Volkspark Humboldthain. These routes are as much ingrained into my body as my tattoos and my love of cinnamon.

Speaking of spices, variety is not only the spice of life but also the spice of training. That’s why I’ve taken to leaving the city, hopping on a train, and doing my long runs surrounded by the healing powers of trees, their roots, dirt trails, and the occasional lake. I treat each run as a minor mission of sorts. One weekend, it’s to end at a brewery I made note of during the height of the pandemic. This time, it’s to run over the highest point in Berlin.

To be fair, running over the highest point in Berlin sounds far more momentous than it really is. Berlin is as flat as a chremslach. So to find the highest point in the city is more a novelty than anything else.

But again, with the monotony of training, it’s damn near a life-saver.

So I plan my route, starting with a train ride out to Köpenick just outside of Müggelsee, the largest lake in the city. I trudge through the city streets into the forest where I quickly find Müggelturm, an unremarkable-looking white tower that reaches high above the tree line. You can pay a modest fee to walk up the tower and get a panoramic view of Berlin.

But I’m on the move, looking for the highest natural point of elevation in the city. So I turn away and instead find my way over to Teufelssee or Devil’s Lake. I create some mythology for the lake’s etymology, imagining that it’s where Beelzebub comes to cool off after a long night (or weekend) of partying at the likes of Berghain and the KitKat Club. In reality, the name probably stems from the age-old German infatuation for using the woods as a source of fear and potential danger. See just about any fairytale you can think of.

After Teufelssee, I start the march back up along Müggelberge with the occasional Blick or view over the forest. I mistake one little outcropping as the highest point in Berlin, only to find myself corrected when I come to a wooden sign further along the trail. “Zum Höchsten Punkt Berlins,” it reads. “To the highest point of Berlin.”

It’s a short climb from the sign to the highest point. Because, again, this is ‘flat as a chremslach’ Berlin. At the top, there’s a cross marking the highest point of natural elevation in the city with a measurement of 114.80 meters.

I’m thankful for completing this mini-adventure of sorts, but I muse at my mix of disappointment and confusion that they’d mark the spot with a cross. Granted, just about any peak in Germany is marked with a cross, triply so in Bavaria where they really don’t want you to forget about their historical religious persuasion.

But in Berlin? Berlin is the black sheep of Germany, questioning the status quo, and going its own way for better or worse. A cross feels a bit blasé for Berlin. It’s not my scene, but I’d prefer a pumped fist like someone losing control at a rave. At least that’s Berlin.

Anywhozzle, I gotta keep moving. The day’s heating up quickly and I have a rough deadline for when I want to end the run at nearby Langer See for a birthday party. Speaking of, thank the powers that be for satellite technology in watches, allowing me to follow the route with a mere glance at my wrist. I navigate around the edge of Müggelsee and over to Langer See like I’ve been running these trails for years.

At the end, I jumped out of the forest, hustle across the grass-covered tram rails, and jog over to the southern edge of Langer See where I finally end my run. With sweat pouring down my face and body, I’m itching to get into that lake. I strip off my vest, shirt, and socks and wade out into the water.

I recently finished Jessica Lee's "Turning: Lessons from Swimming Berlin's Lakes." It’s that healthy mix of memoir, nature writing, and vivid, sense-of-place writing that I love. But seeing as I live in Berlin, it also left me with a renewed appreciation and interest in our lakes. Granted we rarely have the weather for lake swimming (unless, like Jessica Lee, you’re tough enough to do it all year long), but even so, I’ve spent woefully little time in our lakes. So I try to make up some lost time, floating on my back with my eyes closed, and the sun beaming down on me. It rejuvenates my body and I feel like I hadn’t just spent the past couple of hours slamming my feet against the trails in the summer heat.

Oberstdorf, Germany | SUP, Paragliding, Trail Running

And we’re back! After running up the side of a mountain and enjoying some celebratory beers, I’m off to Oberstdorf for some paddling, paragliding, and more trail running before finishing the trip with an unexpected surprise.

Watch the full video here