Frankfurt Lab

I’m writing to you from a tent that’s currently being held at the brink of total collapse by a camera tripod—after two days of nonstop rain, all the tent poles have given way, and I’ve been lying down since this morning, with the fabric just a few centimeters above my head. Do you know what they say about Henry I-wanted-to-live-deep-and-suck-out-all-the-marrow-of-life Thoreau?

In May 2026, Felix, Joey, and Maren hiked through the Harz Mountains together.
Distance: 17.2 km.
Walking time: 4 hrs 05 min.
Break time: 2 hrs 55 min.
Risk: Low.
Milestones: Ascent of the Landsmann (840 m).
Snacks: Bread, spread, bananas, granola bars, apples, cookies, mustard.

Now Felix, Joey, and Maren are sitting onstage in a tent. The risk is even lower. With them, they have ropes, helmets, and climbing harnesses. There is someone else in the tent. They are writing letters home. Writing about what it’s like to climb the mountain in their mind all alone. About failed outdoor adventurers. Observing their surroundings. Dreaming of returning, of seeing loved ones again.