The sun was already well on its way to dropping behind the jagged wall of the Alps when our S Bahn train from Munich finally pulled into Herrshing Central Station. We were going to be cutting it closer than I thought; sure we got a late start, but I was confident we could navigate the wooded trail up to Andechs monastery before dusk. The prospect of having to find our way through the Bavarian woods in the dark was not a comforting one.
The pilgrimage to Kloster Andechs from Munich was one that was recommended to me by several experienced beer travelers. It sounded pretty easy: just take the train to Herrshing and then hike the five-kilometer trail up to the monastery. Even though there was a bus from the station right to the monastery, we knew real travelers don’t take short cuts. Everything was going fine until we got to Herrshing; after all, we had been taking the S Bahn to and from school for a couple weeks, so we had it pretty dialed in. The city quickly gave way to the suburbs that slowly gave way to the picturesque and pastoral Bavarian countryside. The Alps rose before us as we made our way south, and small lakes began to appear between increasingly large hills.
Once off the train, my two classmates and I headed down the path on the waterfront of Lake Ammersee, which Herrshing sits adjacent to. Chris was sure this was the right way, and I had to agree based on what I remembered from checking Google Maps back at the hostel. After about ten minutes of staring straight into the sun as we made our way down the path, I was beginning to have my doubts. Then we saw it: a small signpost next to the trail pointing to a path across the road that led into the woods. “Andechs 4.9k” it read.
Being my first taste of real nature in the last two months, the woods were glorious. The path snaked its way up a reasonable set of hills, but we relished the opportunity to get out and enjoy the calm and fresh air. After a couple doubtful and unmarked trail intersections (and a couple very kind German joggers), we made it to the top of the hill. I honestly wasn’t sure where we were at this point, but as we came to the crest of the hill a steeple started to creep into view, baked red in the setting sun.
Andechs, at last. We found a table on the patio beer garden just as the sun finally dipped behind the mountains and then headed into the Bräustüberl for a round of well-deserved Andechs beers. Andechs is one of the few remaining monastic breweries in Germany, and its beers are highly regarded among both locals and travelers alike. Brewing at Andechs dates back to shortly after the founding of the monastery in the Middle Ages by Benedictine monks, and they have brewed on the same site almost continuously since that time. The present brewery was finished in 1983 and provides an important source of jobs for the surrounding town of Andechs. In addition to brewing, the monks operate a distillery that produces a line of schnapps, flavored with various local fruits and honey.
First up for me was the just-released Winterbier, a dry, toasty, and quite bready unfiltered dunkel lager. Chris and Cory, traveling companions and fellow Siebel/Doemens students, both went for the apfelweisse. An apfelweisse is a mix of weissebier and apfelschorle, the latter a popular Bavarian drink that blends apple juice and carbonated water. I’m somewhat skeptical when it comes to the beer-blends that are popular in Germany these days, but I have to admit that it was very refreshing after the long hike; the apple flavors blended relatively well with the clove and banana from the weissebier.
Honestly though, the beer would have to have been pretty mediocre to spoil the view as we gazed out at the deepening hues of purple across the surrounding farmland, forests, and ominous Alps. After what was probably the best pretzel of my life, I decided to go for the spezial helles, an export-strength pale lager. It had an interesting nose that was surprisingly floral and fruity, with a touch of apple. The flavor was also a little fruity but had a coarse bitterness in the finish that I don’t care for in a helles, which is typically a malt-focused beer. Cory then went for the weissebier, which was a very fruity and flavorful take on the style, nailing the balance between banana and clove in the aroma.
By this time darkness had enveloped us on the patio, so we decided to head into the beer hall for one last round before heading home. When we got inside it was immediately apparent that finding a table was going to be no easy task; it appeared as if half the town of Andechs was spending their Sunday evening socializing over a few mugs of beer. Not to be deterred, we went to the beer counter and ordered a round of their famous doppelbock dunkel. After a couple passes we found a booth to settle into, and started indulging in our intimidating half-liter mugs of doppelbock. A relatively dry and well-attenuated take on the style, this isn’t my favorite dopplebock, but it is definitely one of the more well-balanced and drinkable ones that I’ve had. Either way, it was a fitting beer to fortify us for the hike back to Herrshing.
As luck would have it, the pair of Englishmen also sitting in our booth had hiked up a different trail that would make for a shorter trek back to the train. In the pitch black, one headlamp and a surprisingly competent cell phone light guided our way. We triumphantly arrived at the station in no time. As we made our way back to Munich, I couldn’t help but feel that we had just been somewhere very special. If you are ever in Bavaria, I wholeheartedly recommend making the pilgrimage to Kloster Andechs. I know I can’t wait for the opportunity to return.
Sam is studying to become a professional brewer at the Siebel Institute of Technology in Chicago and Doemens Academy in Munich. He’ll continue documenting his journey both in print and on the web for West Coaster.