Autumn Holidays at Jagdhof Carlshaus: Family and Friends in a Whole Estate to Ourselves – Amid Harz Nature

A personal travel story about sunny October days, hikes with children and dogs, porcini mushrooms, cooking together, a barbecue evening with a view of the Ottofelsen, and deer we first heard and then finally saw.

Some people want to tick off as many sights as possible on holiday and take selfies. And some people would rather simply spend time with family and friends, be outdoors as much as possible without digital devices, and still – or precisely because of that – cook, hike and fall quiet by the campfire in the evening, full of energy and good spirits, watching the starry sky above and listening to the sounds of nature. I clearly belong to the second category. And our stay at Jagdhof Carlshaus during the autumn holidays was exactly like that, and so lovely that I simply have to tell you about it.

My husband, our three children and I had long planned to take a holiday together with our dear friends, their children and their thoroughly lovely Vizsla dog. They are just as much nature lovers as we are, but we live in different parts of Germany, so it's hard to find time together. This year our children's autumn holidays overlapped, and we seized the chance.

The question of where to go barely came up. What luck that Jagdhof Carlshaus exists! Its three houses comfortably sleep eleven people. On top of that, it has everything we could wish for relaxed holidays with a larger group: a fireplace and outdoor grill, a spot for a campfire, even two well-equipped kitchens, a cosy dining room and, of course, nature as far as the eye can see.

We were looking forward to sunny days in the forest, hikes to enchanted natural spots, feasting together at the big kitchen table, barbecue evenings in the garden with a view of the Ottofelsen, and above all carefree quality time with the children. What we didn't know back then: this holiday would give us a completely unplanned and special encounter with nature – one the children, especially, will probably never forget. A hint: it has something to do with a digital detox and deer!

Arriving at a Little Bullerbü

When we finally arrived at the Carlshaus, the joy was immense: in the middle of the forest, surrounded by colourful autumn leaves with a spectacular view of the Brocken, lay our home for the coming days. Jagdhof Carlshaus isn't simply holiday accommodation to us, a place where you drop off your suitcases and spend the nights. It's a little Bullerbü all of its own – with all its possibilities, experiences and stories.

First, of course, the cars had to be unpacked, and an unbelievable quantity of hiking boots, jackets, bags, suitcases and food supplies carried into the houses. Our teenage girls, after all, need to change clothes at least three times a day even in the forest, and big boys are always hungry.

How wonderful that the Jagdhof consists of three houses! Across Carlshaus, the Hexenhaus (Witch's Cottage) and the Dollhouse, the luggage chaos could spread out nicely, and everyone found their spot. The three girls could share a bathroom and chatter away to their hearts' content, while the older boys claimed their bunks. The parents were right next door and could keep an eye on things, in case the boys got up to too much mischief. The youngest got to spend an undisturbed night with just their mum and dad in the Hexenhaus.

Much as I love spending time with family and friends, I think it's important that everyone has their own space now and then. That you can withdraw without missing anything, and come back together whenever you feel like it. That mix is exactly what makes the Jagdhof so special to us: lots of time together, without everyone being constantly on top of each other.

An added bonus: Gipsy, our friends' Vizsla, had his basket in the Hexenhaus, while my husband slept in the Carlshaus. That kept the two of them physically separated at night, and my husband didn't have to worry about his (thankfully not too severe) dog allergy.

As soon as the cars were unloaded and the rooms assigned, that lovely holiday feeling set in: finally arrived, finally time for each other. We spent our first day cooking together, planning the coming days, and of course exploring the rocks right by the house on a little climbing tour. Later we all sat in the garden and watched the fire.

And yet nobody had to be everywhere all the time. The day was long enough for everything: everyone could form their own little groups, or relax alone. The children played Cluedo, two teenagers did yoga, someone got lost in a book, the adults sat together on the rocks and chatted. The hours distributed themselves quite naturally. Nobody had to provide entertainment, nobody had to work through a programme.

That's what I find so wonderful about the Jagdhof: time takes on a different rhythm. You don't have to constantly check the clock or figure out how to accommodate everyone's interests. That's worth a great deal, especially when two families with children of different ages travel together. The magnificent nature outside and the cosy atmosphere inside are somehow always enough.

I couldn't say exactly why that is. Maybe it's the idyllic location by the Ottofelsen, or the long history you can feel everywhere at the Jagdhof. Not everything here is designed to be purely practical, flawless and easy to clean. The rooms have their nooks, the old wooden floorboards creak, and the handsome hunting prints on the walls have been delighting ancestors for generations already. There are favourite spots by the tiled stove and views that keep pulling you back outside. The estate has its own sounds and smells, its own little quirks – and all of that creates a special atmosphere.

Campfire, Starry Sky and an Unexpected Concert

On the evening of our arrival day, we all finally sat together in the garden by the campfire. It slowly grew dark, and someone kept bringing sausages, breadstick dough and cold beer out from the kitchen. The Big Dipper and countless other stars were visible in the sky, and we were free to make up our own constellations – after all, there was no Google and no app on hand to spoil the fun with know-it-all facts. The first day wasn't even properly over yet, and still it already felt like you could live here forever.

At some point the first children got tired. And how wonderful: there was no need to send them off to bed. Happily exhausted, they disappeared into their rooms entirely of their own accord. Did they brush their teeth thoroughly? We decided to trust that they did, while we adults carried on sitting together – surprisingly long, and increasingly cheerful. Is it just me, or did evenings used to run longer than planned more often than they do now? That evening, at any rate, that's exactly what happened, and more than one constellation had long since dipped below the horizon by the time we said goodnight to each other, happy and worn out from the good air and the good wine.

And what a luxury it was, not to end up on a futon in some student flat, but to fall into a wonderfully comfortable bed! The old floorboards creaked a little more, somewhere a door closed, someone could still be heard turning on a tap – and then nothing but the quiet wind in the trees. We slept beautifully.

Just Heading Out: The Forest Is Right at the Door

The next morning, grogginess didn't stand a chance – the very first look out of the window pulled us out of bed. Sunlight flickered through the bright leaves of the birch tree, and the children had already pounced on the rolls that – believe it or not – the boys had freshly baked themselves. By the time we came downstairs, the youngsters were already in their hiking boots and bursting with energy. The forest was out there, and it was there to be conquered!

So we quickly pulled on our jackets too, grabbed the dog lead, and set off. The stragglers had no trouble finding us, since we didn't cover much ground. The hiking trails start right at the fence, and how good it is that the loops around Jagdhof Carlshaus can be stretched out as far as you like! Our route could have taken us all the way to the Brocken, to the waterfalls and bathing spots of the Steinerne Renne, to Wernigerode, or to the nearest stop of the Harz narrow-gauge railway. But this time we didn't want to arrive anywhere in particular; we wanted time for every little wonder along the way, however small.

For us, it's a lovely thing when children don't just experience nature as a backdrop for a few days of holiday. They should be able to move freely, be curious, and gradually develop their own familiarity with their surroundings. They should know what the soft forest floor feels like in their hands, that a whole world is hiding under the leaves, what the air smells like as it cools outside, and how quiet you can become when you hear an animal somewhere.

It's lovely when you can decide spontaneously how far you want to go. Maybe it's enough just to climb and explore the rocks right in the garden. When the children discover something, you stop. When the dog finds an interesting trail, you carry on a little more slowly. And when sunlight falls through the trees, there's nothing wrong with pausing for a moment to admire the shifting play of light as it moves. And that's exactly how it was: led by the youngest in our group, we followed the paths without a fixed plan, with the one goal of experiencing the beauty of the landscape, which changed a little with every step.

Until, quite unexpectedly, we came across a very special treasure of the Harz: the king of mushrooms, the porcini!

In Search of the King of Mushrooms

We had already spotted its colourful retinue earlier. Again and again we had reached for the camera to photograph a particularly pretty, brightly red fly agaric in the autumn leaves or on green moss. You could easily mistake them for the heralds of the mushroom king, announcing his arrival with their striking colours. That, at least, is how the Harz witch legends go: where fly agarics grow, porcini are often found nearby, too!

Suddenly our hike took on a whole new energy. Mushroom fever had broken out. Of all people, one of the previously rather unmotivated boys found the first wonderful porcini in a dense thicket of firs. That settled it: no more leisurely strolling through the forest. Instead, everyone threw themselves with great enthusiasm into the competition to find the next mushroom.

We kept watch, bent down, searched between the moss and leaves, and alongside more and more porcini also found a slow worm, a shed deer antler and a fire salamander.

Of course, foraging for mushrooms also calls for caution. Not everything that looks appetising is edible. Luckily, our friend is a true mushroom expert and has already attended several mushroom seminars. So we only let our finds go into the basket once he had positively identified them as edible porcini. At some point every jacket pocket and hood was full – we hadn't anticipated needing an actual basket – and we had to leave the rest of the porcini standing and head back to the Jagdhof.

The hike had turned out quite differently than we'd expected. We hadn't climbed the Brocken, nor reached any particular destination. Instead, we had experienced the forest with all our senses, discovered something together, and found our own dinner along the way. We already knew what would become of the mushrooms: that evening, our porcini would end up in the spaghetti sauce.

Luckily, both kitchens at the Jagdhof – one in the Carlshaus and one in the Hexenhaus – are excellently equipped. With the right kitchen tools, even the boys enjoyed diligently chopping and preparing their vegetarian "haul". The little ones dropped by in between to taste and season, and someone was roped into laying the big table. When the enormous pot of steaming spaghetti with creamy porcini sauce finally landed on the table, everyone was proud of their contribution to this delicious and very special feast.

To the Steinerne Renne: Between Granite Rocks and Waterfalls

The following day drew us back outdoors too. It was October in the Harz after all, the sun was being kind to us, and there was still more than enough to discover around the Jagdhof.

It's a lovely thing, really, not having to plan something new every single day on holiday. You can simply head out again, take a different path, or spend time in the garden. And sooner or later hunger arrives, and the next shared plan takes shape. Nobody wanted to cook lunch that day, so we hiked to the Steinerne Renne inn.

The walk there takes only a good three-quarters of an hour and is one of my personal favourite routes around the Jagdhof. You follow a small path, and between the trees enormous rocks keep appearing, looking as if someone carefully stacked them on top of one another in the middle of the forest long ago and then forgot about them.

One famous example is the "Gebohrter Stein" (Bored Stone). What looks as though a giant left behind a particularly complex tower from a game of Jenga is actually the result of weathering and erosion working together over a very long time. The granite is attacked along natural fissures and cracks. Over time, the rock blocks become rounded, while other areas weather and erode more strongly. That's how the bizarre shapes form that make these rocks look as if someone deliberately piled them up.

In other places, the forest opens up and you get a breathtaking panoramic view over Wernigerode and the Harz foothills. The Jagdhof sits at over 600 metres above sea level, and from up here the view reaches all the way to Wernigerode Castle and far across the landscape.

The closer you get to the Steinerne Renne, the more the character of the path changes. You can hear the Holtemme rushing, sometimes quite close, sometimes a little below the path. The water finds its way between the granite rocks, shoots over small cascades and collects in deep rock pools.

These natural pools look so inviting that you might well be tempted to jump in, even in October. Gipsy, our friends' Vizsla, certainly didn't need to think twice. For him, the water was clearly still wonderfully inviting. The children took off their shoes and socks and waded barefoot through the water – though not for long, since it was really rather icy.

The Steinerne Renne inn sits on the other side of the river. The bridge, however, had been damaged by flooding and was impassable. For us, luckily, that didn't mean the end of the path, just more adventure and fun. So we found our own way across between the rocks, climbed, balanced and helped each other over the rocky stretches. In the end, everyone made it. Not a major climb, but exciting enough to work up the perfect little appetite.

The historic Steinerne Renne inn has long been part of the region's hiking tradition. Its history goes back to the 19th century; what began as a small refreshment stop grew over the years into a popular destination. The terrace of the spectacularly pretty half-timbered building sits right above the Holtemme's waterfalls and offers a truly breathtaking view. For the children, of course, the hearty meatballs with potato salad were far more interesting than the view. But we adults enjoyed the break and the regional specialities too.

The way back was at least as lovely as the way there. We took our time and kept discovering new paths. It's an advantage to live in a well-connected hiking area: you never have to take the same route twice, and you still always find your way effortlessly back to the Jagdhof.

A Concert from the Forest

We wanted to spend the last hours of the day in the garden, barbecuing. We got everything ready, carried charcoal, sausages and corn cobs outside, and settled comfortably into the garden furniture with a view of the Ottofelsen.

The landscape lay in warm evening light, and once again it was hard to imagine anything more beautiful. The food tasted wonderful, nobody whined, and we enjoyed watching the sun slowly sink, blood-red, behind the Brocken. There we sat, cosy in the garden, when suddenly a deep, rough call sounded from the forest: the bugling of a stag.

At first it was single calls out of the darkness. Deep, powerful sounds that carried far across the landscape. Then we heard more deer, and with every call we became more aware of just how alive the forest around us is. Autumn is the rutting season for red deer. The males draw attention to themselves with their bugling, compete with one another, and try to keep rivals at a distance.

From our garden, it felt as though one stag was answering another, and then a third joined in from a different direction. One of the animals was so loud we felt it had to be standing right below the Jagdhof – no more than 150 metres away. We couldn't see the stag, of course. But its voice carried so powerfully through the night that it seemed to be standing almost right next to us.

We all listened into the forest. We tried to work out which direction the calls were coming from, and how many deer might be answering one another. It was fascinating to imagine the mighty animals standing somewhere among the trees, competing with each other for the attention of the hinds and for their place in the hierarchy.

It was a magical moment that lasted more than an hour. By then darkness had settled over the mountains, and against the clear sky the stars sparkled all the more impressively, accompanied by the majestic calls of the deer. We stayed outside for quite a while longer. What a luxury: there's no need to organise entertainment or attend some special event. You simply sit in front of your own house, and nature provides the soundtrack for the evening.

Red deer can be active during the day too, but in heavily frequented forest areas they often keep to quieter spots and so aren't always easy to observe. Anyone wanting to encounter them needs above all patience, a quiet vantage point, and a little luck. But after hearing their calls so vividly, it was clear to some of the kids: we absolutely have to see deer, too!

Five in the Morning: Searching for the Deer

So the alarms went off (the teenagers' alarms, unsurprisingly, did not) at five in the morning. Outside it was still pitch dark. Nobody was really properly awake yet, but curiosity outweighed tiredness. While the others snuggled back into their beds, we set off with the children for the raised hide, only about 200 metres from the Jagdhof.

Somehow the five of us managed to squeeze comfortably onto the bench – all except Gipsy. There was no room left for him, so he lay down in the grass below. Then we simply waited, and for quite a while nothing happened – or did it? In truth, we tried to pierce the darkness with our eyes and listened intently into the start of dawn. Listening closely, the silence was astonishingly loud: every rustle and every snap was exciting. The children were quiet as mice, taking turns looking through the binoculars our friend had brought along. We couldn't see them, but we could feel the awakening life of countless animals all around us.

The shadows lifted, and the outlines of the landscape became clearer and clearer. From up there you can see far across the valley to the opposite ridge. The landscape opens up into a wide expanse shaped by grassy stretches and scattered groups of trees between the wooded ridges. It feels a little like an African savannah landscape – except you're sitting right in the middle of the Harz, hoping to spot one of the deer among the trees whose calls had carried through the garden the night before.

And then our friend was the first to spot it through the binoculars: right at the edge of our field of view, something brown and large was moving among the trees. And then you could see it clearly even without the binoculars: a stag was moving through the valley. Slowly and majestically it strode through its territory, pausing now and then before moving on again. As if painted, it showed us its world.

We sat still on our raised hide, hardly able to believe our luck.

No smartphone can replace a moment like that. Of course you can see animals in pictures or watch them in documentaries. But here we felt the cool morning air, heard the sounds of the dawning day, and actually experienced one of the deer whose calls we had heard so vividly the night before.

Sometimes it stood still, sniffing the air, seeming to wait for something. Then it lowered its head to graze a little. Slowly it moved on – nobody checked the time, but by the time it finally disappeared at the far end of the valley, the sun stood so high that we had to take off our jackets on the way back to the Carlshaus.

We don't know whether the children will later remember every single hiking trail or every meal of the 2026 autumn holidays. But this spectacle, they will never forget.

A Digital Detox, Without Even Trying

Would the children have come along if Jagdhof Carlshaus had a television and internet? Who knows. I, for one, am glad there's no fighting here over screen time and gaming bans. Don't tell anyone: we actually do have a Wi-Fi station at the Jagdhof that works rather well, but it's our little secret that we always switch it off the moment we arrive.

But whatever series, streak, or influencer seemed so important just before: watching a stag in its natural environment was a thousand times more exciting for the children – their own Discovery Channel moment, one they'll always remember.

Memories That Last

Our stay at Jagdhof Carlshaus during the autumn holidays was a wonderful break with family, friends and dogs. We spent sunny days in the forest, went on long hikes, found porcini mushrooms, cooked together and ate for hours at the big table.

We barbecued in the garden and looked out at the Ottofelsen. We heard the deer calling, and with the children on the raised hide we watched a stag move through the valley.

But it wasn't only these special encounters with nature that made our stay what it was. It was also the feeling of having a whole estate for our group: three houses, plenty of room for togetherness and for retreat, a well-equipped kitchen, the garden, and the freedom to shape our days entirely at our own pace.

The historic character of the place, the forest right at the doorstep, and the trails starting right outside made the stay something all of its own. We didn't have to keep driving somewhere to experience anything. We didn't have to put together a programme to keep the children occupied. Nature itself provided plenty of reasons to grow curious and to set off together.

And perhaps that was the greatest luxury: for a few days, to look less at the clock and more at our surroundings. To watch the children discover, to cook together, and to fall quiet in the evening when the deer bugled from the forest.

Sometimes you don't need a long list of sights. Sometimes a sunny October day is enough, along with a few porcini mushrooms found along the way, a set table, a fire in the garden, and a stag that suddenly moves through the valley.

Jagdhof Carlshaus is a place for people who don't simply want to spend the night together, but to live together, experience something outdoors, and create memories. A whole estate for your own people – with history, character and nature right at the door.

And that's exactly why these October days will stay with us for a long time to come.

Frequently Asked Questions: Autumn Holidays at Jagdhof Carlshaus

How many people does Jagdhof Carlshaus accommodate?

The Jagdhof's three houses – Carlshaus, Hexenhaus and the Dollhouse – comfortably sleep eleven people, spread across their own rooms and spaces to retreat to.

Are dogs welcome at Jagdhof Carlshaus?

Yes. Dogs are very welcome at Jagdhof Carlshaus, and the hiking trails starting right at the door are ideal for exploring together with a four-legged companion.

What can you do around Jagdhof Carlshaus in autumn?

In autumn you can find porcini and fly agaric mushrooms around Jagdhof Carlshaus, hike to the Steinerne Renne, sit by the campfire in the evening, and watch the bugling red deer of the rutting season at dusk.

When is the red deer rutting season in the Harz?

The red deer rutting season takes place in autumn. During this time, the males draw attention to themselves with loud bugling to keep rivals at bay and attract hinds.

Is there Wi-Fi at Jagdhof Carlshaus?

There is a Wi-Fi station at the Jagdhof that can be used if needed. Many guests deliberately switch it off on arrival to experience their holiday as a digital detox in the middle of nature.

How far is the Steinerne Renne from Jagdhof Carlshaus?

The walk to the Steinerne Renne inn takes a good three-quarters of an hour from Jagdhof Carlshaus and passes striking granite rocks such as the Gebohrter Stein.