and Long has the story been told of the day that Krampus came for the Totemfüste . . .
THE TALE
Ancient Bavaria was a place of great tragedy and superstition. Every year, as Winter descended on the countryside, dozens of children would go missing during the first great storms of the Season. The disappearance of the children was most likely due to the packs of ravenous wolves that roamed the forests in search of a lost and tasty morsel who, caught in a blizzard and almost certainly snow blind, would stray from the designated stone paths to their home village and stumble directly into the waiting jaws of the ever present wolf pack.
Parents, distraught and fearful, created a legend to scare the scheisse out of the young ones in order to keep them alert and on the trails home. Krampus. Once caged and controlled by the Weihnachtsmann and his pack of loyal Dachshunds, Krampus had broken loose and now called the dark woods his own. A child who strayed from the stone paths and into the trees risked falling under his evil spell and into his twisted hands.
As part of the legend, parents would go on to extol the virtues of the "Totemfüste", a child who embraced the caution and intelligence of the Winter creatures who now shared the forest with Krampus and managed to survive his dark presence. Young children took to dressing as their favorite seasonal animals while walking through the woods, secure in the idea that their parents tale of the good Totemfüste would see them safely home. Alas, the hungry and cruel wolf pack did not always cooperate with the parent’s plans . . . But I digress. The point is that for the sixty three darkest days of Winter, children, dressed often as animals, tried to survive the walk home through the dark forest.
And many did live to tell their tale . . .
“Dark his eyes and darker his heart, but I strayed not from the stone path, counting einhundertundeins steps from school to home. Alert I stayed, like the arctic hare, ears trained to the sounds of the forest, nose primed for the copper scent of spilt blood; and did I, dressed in white fur and tail, make my way home safely under the corrupt gaze of the shadowed tree line . . . ”
THE TRADITION
In 1798, the great Herr Doktor Mediziner Schneebärtchen found himself disgusted by what he deemed the collapse of proper society during the holiday season. Every year he would watch as his fellow Bavarians embraced the deadly sins of gluttony and sloth, only to suffer the compounding consequences of both as the darkness of Winter descended upon their grease-stained and newly fattened faces. He would declare, "nicht mehr" and in the Winter of 1799 created an annual expression of denying oneself the means of self-destruction and embracing the hard regimen of self-improvement through the pain and suffering of Schmerzenfüste (exercise). Knowing well his countrymen, he based this expression on the ancient tale of Krampus and the Totemfüste and for the sixty three darkest days of Winter he would challenge them to what we have now come to know as Winterfüste.