The Wörtherseemandl Gralf legend
In the green forests around Lake Wörthersee once lived a mischievous creature known as “Wörtherseemandl Gralf”. The cheeky little man threatened the people of the area with capricious pranks if they did not pay tribute to him. But the brave people of the region refused to be intimidated and decided to stand up to the Wörtherseemandl. The locals were led by reigning UCI gravel world champion Johnny Hoogerland, who has retired from his World Tour career to live at Lake Wörthersee.
News of the Mandl’s threat spread like wildfire and people all over the country mounted their gravel bikes, determined to find the Wörtherseemandl and put an end to the hustle and bustle. A wild gravel bike adventure began, through dense forests and along picturesque trails, led by Johnny and the most daring bikers in the area.
The quest developed into an annual spectacle, the “Wörthersee Gravel”. More and more participants crossed the mystical forests with increasing enthusiasm in search of the mischievous little man. Eventually, the adventure became part of the UCI World Qualifier Series and a qualifier for the Gravel World Championships. From then on, year after year, daring gravel bikers gathered to challenge the “Wörtherseemandl Gralf” on adventurous trails in the beauty of nature with views of the turquoise Wörthersee.
Thus the “Wörtherseemandl” became a living legend, telling of the courage of people and the fascination of Lake Wörthersee.
What is behind it?
The perhaps true core of this perhaps true story is the legend of the Wörtherseemandl (in the original from 1837 still called “Sage vom Werder See”). In Carinthia, the main character of the story is simply called “Wörtherseemandl”. Depictions of the little man, usually with a barrel from which water gushes, can be found in many places around Lake Wörthersee.
Many, many years ago, where the lake stretches its blue waters today, there was a town whose splendid buildings suggested the wealth of its inhabitants. They were indeed rich, but also full of arrogance and opulence. And so it was that on Christmas Eve, the majority of the townspeople gathered for dancing and feasting.
The ringing of bells signalled the hour of matins. Then the doors of the banqueting hall opened and a small, ice-grey man walked slowly in and surveyed the noisy company. Then he raised his voice and said: “O you, revellers, do you not know what we are celebrating today? Return home before the hour of penance passes and the punishment reaches you.”
But only derisive laughter answered the old man. A few minutes before midnight, the warner entered the hall for the second time, from which the wild shouting of the drunks resounded. A cask rested in his arms; and again he urged repentance and penance. Otherwise, he added, “I will open the tap of this cask and death and destruction will flow from it.” But once again, the old man’s words failed to penetrate the hard hearts of the wicked and his threat was met with crude laughter and mockery.
Pouring rain
“Now you are doomed!” said the grey man with flashing eyes. As he spoke, midnight struck. The hall shook with a roaring storm. The rain poured down from every crack and floorboard, floods of water rushed in and on and on the waters poured until they had flooded the house, the hills and the mountains and the town had disappeared without a trace.
