DIE ZEIT überlegt, ob sie einen Artikel über Menschen veröffentlichen soll, die lieber barfuß als mit Schuhen durch das Leben gehen. Wir, bzw. ich, sammeln daher derzeit Erfahrungen von Barfuß-Gehern. Ich würde mich sehr gerne auch mit Ihnen unterhalten (per E-Mail oder Telefon). Hätten Sie dazu Lust und Zeit?
Ich würde mich jedenfalls sehr freuen, von Ihnen zu hören.
Mit freundlichen Grüßen,
Ute Eberle
DIE ZEIT
Ressort Modernes Leben
Tel.: 040/3280563

Spätestens wenn die Aprilsonne den Boden wieder behaglich warm werden läßt, kommen die Füße wieder voll zu ihrem Recht, Und dann wird es sicher wieder spontane und geplante Treffen von Barfußgehern und Barfußwanderern geben. Im Raum München / Fünfseenland / Pfaffenwinkel werde ich da mit von der Partie sein, aber auch anderswo wird schon mit den Hufen (Pardon: Zehennägeln) gescharrt! Und eine aufgeschlossene Journalistin wäre doch als Mit-Barfußgeherin herzlich willkommen. Man kann ja einen Weg wählen, der auch von Nicht-Fakiren begangen werden kann....

Selbst erleben ist doch die beste Grundlage, um authentisch berichten zu können!

Herzliche Füße, Lorenz

P.S. die Idee ist nicht von mir, Richard Frazine, der Autor des "Barefoot Hiker" hat so etwas schon einmal arrangiert -- siehe folgende Leseprobe:

WATERBURY REPUBLICAN AND AMERICAN
SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 15, 1991, WATERBURY, CONN.

Shoeless in the forest,

hikers discover a world of unexpected sensations

By LIZ HALLORAN
Republican-American

THOMASTON - The cool mud squished through the toes of my bare feet. Moments later, I padded softly over a carpet of dried pine needles and leaves, along a barely-moving stream. Watching the forest floor, I moved up a gentle hill, my woodland path now sprinkled with shiny, glinting mica and sharp acorn shells.

It was a quiet morning on the Mattatuck Trail; the zooming traffic of nearby Route 109 was a muffled buzz. It was my first experience barefoot hiking. My guide and teacher, Richard Frazine, led the way at a brisk pace. A barefoot hiker for almost 20 years and a Mattatuck Trail regular, he pointed out potential hazards while keeping up a steady stream of suggestions for safe hiking without the benefit of socks and shoes.

"You must choose each footfall," he said, as we crossed a stream, picking our way through mossy rocks and cold water. "Anticipate each step. If you kick, shuffle or drag your feet, your chance of injury multiplies enormously."

A barefoot hiker must step straight down, molding the foot to the ground so it "takes the shape of the earth," practically eliminating the chance of foot injury, Frazine said.

His toes curled around a rock so he could feel the chill and damp of the especially dense form of quartz. "It's holding the cool of the night," he said.

Why barefoot hiking? Why not stomp through the woods wearing a warm pair of scratchy wool socks and sturdy boots?

"There's a whole world on the forest floor," Frazine said. Going barefoot allows you to explore things with your feet -- which, he says, are as sensitive as your hands.

He encouraged me to wriggle my toes through the moss and lichen that decorate rocks and tree trunks, to brush my foot over a mushroom the size of a saucer, to tickle my soles with high club moss, an archaic plant that looks like a tiny ground pine.

Frazine, who proudly says he's got a "quarter inch of leather" on the bottom of his feet, acknowledges that the idea of traipsing through the woods barefoot frightens some and makes others nervous. Actually, he admits, that's how he felt when he first contemplated going unshod.

"I thought it would somehow strip me of being civilized, being human," Frazine said. "It's something bears do."

But once a woman friend convinced him of the pleasures of barefoot hiking, he was a convert. "It's something I enjoy tremendously," Frazine said as he ducked under a fallen tree and pointed out some Virginia creeper growing just off the trail.

He encouraged me to use my feet to "calibrate my senses" and to notice how a bare foot leaves almost no imprint on nature. We clambered up a small waterfall blanketed in moss that Frazine described as looking and feeling like a "shag carpet being continually
washed."

As we pulled ourselves onto a large boulder at the side of the fall, Frazine talked about his family -- wife, Joanne, and children, Beth, 6, and Charlie, 3.

The Frazines always walk barefoot in their High Street home, where they've lived for about four years. One of their favorite experiences is waiting for a winter thaw. When the air turns warm and the snow is melting -- now that's a particularly pleasant barefoot walk, he said.

As we followed the trail back to our car, Frazine talked about how he's trying to share the experience of barefoot hiking. He's been
extending a standing invitation to those who'd like to try a barefoot hike.

Each Saturday at 9 a.m., weather permitting, he meets interested hoofers at the commuter parking lot on Route 6 and exit 39 of Route 8
and takes them for a walk in the woods.

The dangers appear few and are usually confined to areas around public roads, where man's influence can be seen.

But walking deeper into the woods is "probably safer than going barefoot on public beaches," he said.

I know I came out of the experience a little dirty, but pleased and intrigued and unscathed.

I'd do it again.

Barfußlaufen in der Natur