„The Ninglinspo is a stream in Belgium, tributary of the Amblève upstream from Remouchamps around Quarreux. The valley of Ninglinspo is classed as an outstanding heritage area of Wallonia. It runs between Vert-Buisson and Nonceveux. The Ninglinspo forms rapids around enormous blocks of quartzite, forming a series of pools with evocative names.
The Ninglinspo gets its odd name from an error of French cartographers who mangled quite a few toponyms of the department of the Ourthe, confusing the name of the river with that of the site where it flows into the Amblève. Its original name is the Doulneux, Dulnosus in Latin, found in the Charter of Sigebert III of 647 AD. Dulnosus appears to come from a word meaning an alder wood.[1]„
Wikipedia
Ninglingspo. What a beautiful, small stretch of the best the Ardennes have to offer. Great to wander, linger, stroll and strive around. A place to forget time and meaning for a while. A place with an odd charm. A place that incorporates everyone. A place that drags you away from the day-to-day flow. A place to find calm, peace and relaxation. Great to simply sit close by the stream just admiring the sound, the views and the reflections of the never ending flow of water. A place where kids play for hours just down by the stream, collecting and discarding stones, letting their phantasy floating free.
Ninglingspo. Usually night 2, 3 or even 4. A frightening stretch on the way to finish Legends Trail. A dark and tricky area. Millions of paths easily mistaken in the dark and rainy mist. Views typically only 2-3 m in the watery light of the headlamp. Tiny side streams easily misguiding you from the track. Thousands of bridges, and dozens of different hiking trail way marks – which to take – whom to follow. No matter how good I thought my knowledge of that area is – Ninglingspo never failed to confuse, to side-track, to lure me. Only good thing with that is, that adrenaline wipes away the tiredness; only to lead to rushed navigation decisions which are not always correct. And the sound. The ever-howling water, sometimes so loud you can’t really communicate. Tons of roaring water every second. Each and every Legends Trail Ninglingspo was a shock, a wave of brutal reality in the midst of the intense focus. A sharp interruption of the flow of disconnection from the surrounding on the path to finish. A hard wake-up and confrontation with all those tiny things which could easily lead to a catastrophe. A false step on one of those bridges, a false grip while climbing the wrong path, a bigger navigation error leading into a fatal time loss or simply the brain being not able to rationalize things any longer in the midst of the peak at Legends Trail and sending signals of resignation.
It has been with great relief to hear the roaring slowly fading while winding out of Ninglingspo. Each and every time.
Judging from the tracking traces of the 21 Legends Trail 350 2026 finishers I may not have been the only one this year. Usually pretty aligned and streamlined (despite at the CPs with worse indoor GPS connection) – the traces start to dance, start to circle, look more chaotic – look like a bit „on the edge“.
Ninglingspo will always be a place I would like to visit again one day. In bright sunlight with sun-warmed stones. Just to sit there down by the stream.
More likely it will be during on of „those“ Legends Trail nights. And if so I just hope to safely get out of it once more.