Tag: #Austria

Glacier Skiing

Glacier Skiing

In the summer of ‘87, my folks visited us in Germany. We had a grand time touring Germany, Austria, Northern Italy and Switzerland. One of the highlights was Glacier Skiing at Sölden, Austria and then afterwards, hanging at the Lodge drinking bier, while Cathy worked on her tan.

On our first tour in Germany from ‘79-83, Mom and Dad visited once for a vacation in the summer of 1982. I was a Company Commander in the 34th Signal Battalion at the time and the day we were to leave on vacation with them, the phone rang about 4AM. Cath said, “Don’t Answer it”. I said, “I have to.” She answered back, “Don’t answer it.” I answered the phone.

The call came from Battalion Headquarters and we deployed on an alert for the next three days. While I was in the field, Cath showed Mom and Dad around Southern Germany and the Black Forest. When I returned from the alert, we travelled the next ten days together.  Dad understood what happened with the alert and why I had to go, but I’m not sure Mom did. 

When we moved back to Germany in ‘85, we didn’t think Mom and Dad could afford another visit. Airline travel was expensive, as was the trip itself. Then, fate intervened. Dad hit 5 out of 6 numbers on a lottery ticket and won several thousand dollars. Never ones to let extra money go to waste, they scheduled a visit with us in Worms in the summer of 1987. 

When they arrived, we spent the first few days near Worms and the village of Rheindurkheim, where we lived. In addition to introducing them to local friends, we spent an evening at one of our favorite Weinfests. Everyone enjoyed themselves, or at least that’s what the photos seemed to indicate. 

Prost!

Eventually, we left Rheindurkheim and headed South for the main part of the vacation. I’m not sure why, but Cath and I decided to take our skis along and get some Glacier skiing in, something we’d never done before. Looking back now, it seems an odd decision. Mom and Dad wouldn’t ski, but I’m sure we talked with them about it. In any case, off we went down the Autobahn with the skis strapped on the roof rack of our Saab.  

After visiting good friends Jim and Res in Stuttgart for a night, we made our way to the Alps. We planned a drive through Austria, Northern Italy and Switzerland, but started with Sölden, Austria where we would ski. In the 1980s, you could still ski Sölden virtually all year long*.

Glacier skiing is a bit different from regular skiing. You have to hit the slopes early, and most people only ski in the AM. By late morning, the sun has warmed the slope and the glacier starts turning to slush. Also, as the morning wears on, the snow/ice on the glacier tends to become gravelly, not quite ice and not quite snow. 

That first night at Sölden, we ate dinner in the little Gasthaus where we were staying. We discussed skiing the following morning. Cathy was thinking about skiing in her bikini and I was up for wearing a pair of shorts. Ultimately, we decided to ski in sweats and jeans. If we fell, the gravelly snow would scrape us up pretty good.  

The next day, after an early breakfast of Kaffee, Brotchen, Wurst und Käse (Coffee, rolls, sausage and cheese) we made our way to the slope and were skiing by 7:30AM. We’d told Mom and Dad they could hang at the Gasthaus, but they insisted on coming with us to the ski lodge. Dad took a photo as we headed to the lift.

Cath and I spent the next three hours skiing the glacier and it was wonderful. The piste (ski trail) wasn’t crowded, the snow was in great shape and we were skiing well.  Occasionally, we’d check on Mom and Dad who were drinking Kaffee on a picnic table outside the lodge. Dad snapped some pics of us skiing, but for the life of me, I can’t find them. Around 10:30 the snow started getting slushy. By 11, we were through. We started getting wet from the knees down and were tired from the morning’s activities. In the additional good news department, we hadn’t fallen all morning. 

We stacked our skis in a rack, joined Mom and Dad and ordered some biers. Cathy stripped off her sweater and jeans, revealing the bikini she wore underneath. In the photo I took of Cath with Mom and Dad, I love the bored/sullen Euro look she adopted. Just another ho-hum day skiing the Alps and catching rays.

Cathy Working on Her Tan after Skiing in the Morning.

We spent one more night in Sölden, before heading for Nauders, Austria right on the Italian border. We’d previously skied a couple of winters there. After a couple of days seeing friends, we eventually crossed into Italy and then Switzerland, having an occasional roadside lunch of bread, cheese and wine. One day we forgot glasses, but that didn’t stop us. ;-). 

No Glass? No Problem!

We worked our way to Davos, where we enjoyed a multi-course 5-Star meal at a restaurant just outside of town. At our hotel that night, we saw fireworks going off in the mountains across the valley. It was the celebration of the Swiss National Day, their equivalent to our 4th of July and pretty amazing. At the time, we had no clue about the importance of Davos or the World Economic Forum. All we knew was that we ate a great meal that evening and then saw a cool light show in the Alps. 

Eventually, we returned to Rheindurkheim and other adventures, before Mom and Dad flew home. 

It’s funny, I remember many parts of that vacation**, but for some reason skiing the glacier at Sölden stands out. It was only a small part of the trip, but remains firmly in my mind. Maybe it was the fun of the day. Maybe it was the skiing. Maybe it was just the remembrance of my wife soaking up sunshine in a bikini at the ski lodge after a morning of good play. All our days should be so happy. 

Addendum:

  • I should point out that there were MANY women sunbathing in bikinis, not just Cathy. She’s the only one I took a picture of ;-).
  • * These days at Sölden, due to Global Warming the glacier is receding. Skiing stops sometime in May, and picks back up in September.
  • **When people visited us in Germany, we gave them atypical tours of Germany and Europe. We weren’t big on Churches and Museums, and instead, focused on local activities off the beaten path. On this particular vacation with Mom and Dad, we really wanted to show them parts of the Alps we’d grown to love in both the winter and summer months. I doubt we saw another American the entire time.  

Snow Satisfaction

Snow Satisfaction

In 1988, Cath and I enjoyed a ski vacation in the village of Ischgl, Austria, known for both its skiing, and its Après-ski activities. It also presented the opportunity to ski from Austria to Switzerland, as long as we brought our passports. As is usual, Cathy had the last word after we completed the run.

While stationed in Germany in the ‘80s, we took many ski vacations to Austria, sometimes for a long weekend, sometimes for a week. We often went with our friends Jim and Res to the Austrian town of Nauders on the Italian border. The skiing was great there and we enjoyed many fun trips with them.

Good Times With Jim and Res on One of Our Ski Trips.

In ‘88, Jim and Res couldn’t get away, so we decided to go on our own and try a new location. We eventually settled on Ischgl, a village in Austria’s Paznaun Valley with nearly 150 miles of groomed downhill trails. It’s also known as something of a party town with a multitude of Après-ski bars, clubs and restaurants.

We had a great time that week and the town lived up to both its ski and Après reputation. We would ski in the morning, have lunch and a bier at a restaurant on the mountainside, and then ski all afternoon. Eventually, we skied our way back to town and stopped at different places for a drink. Afterwards, we walked to our Gasthaus, cleaned up and went out for dinner, and maybe dancing later. Finally, we’d make it to bed, sleep like the dead, and then do the same thing the next day. It was wonderful, and an easy thing to do when in your early thirties.

Cathy Catching Some Rays on the Slope at Lunch One Day

We learned we could ski from Ischgl, across the border and into the duty-free town of Samnaun, Switzerland. As the crow flies, about 10 kilometers separate the two towns, but It’s farther when skiing. Looking at the map, the route was a combination of ski lifts and Blue and Red trails. (in Europe, Blue are considered easy and Red are intermediate trails). Although we didn’t need passports to enter Switzerland, we would need them to re-enter Austria. We decided to give it a go the next day and have lunch in Samnaun, before returning to Austria.

Ischgl on the Right. Samnaun on the Left.

It was a perfect day with a blue sky as we started towards Samnaun. Through a combination of skiing and a couple of chairlifts, we arrived at the red trail heading into Switzerland. As we descended, it was nice skiing, but then we came upon an icy, relatively steep cat-track, connecting on its far side to a steep descent to the village of Samnaun. Several people stopped there gathering their breath, before continuing. The mountain was on the right side of the track. On the left side, the ground dropped rapidly away into an unskiable valley. As we were watching, many people had problems on the ice and were falling, so some caution was warranted. We were about ready to go when someone came zooming down the slope from above, cut his skis into the snow and ice to turn onto the cat-track and… the skis didn’t grab the ice. Instead of turning, he shot off the side of the mountain, traveled through the air for about 40 feet, and then landed 20 feet below the trail in the snow. Hmmmm.

That caught our attention, particularly Cathy’s. The guy was OK, but now needed to find one of his skis and then climb back up the side of the valley to reach the trail. He couldn’t ski out from where he was.

We watched awhile longer, and then I said to Cath it was time to go. She disagreed and wanted to wait a little longer. More time went by and Cathy still wasn’t quite ready. Finally, I said something like “We can’t stay here, and we can’t go back up. The only way out is down the cat-track.” Eventually we started and slowly made our way. Cathy reverted to snow-plowing and her edges grabbed on the ice. After what seemed like forever, but in reality was probably two or three minutes, we made it past the cat-track. A few people were crashing and burning around us, but we had nary a fall. All that was left was the final descent.

We stood there congratulating ourselves and I pulled out my flask for us to share a short shot of brandy. I filled the cap about half full and handed it to Cathy. She looked in the cap and said, “Really? Do you think I could have a double?!” We both laughed and I filled the cap to the brim. She shot it down, handed it back, and took off on the final descent into Samnaun. After pouring myself a short one, I put away the flask and tore after her, eventually catching up. While the slope was a little steep, the snow was good and we arrived in town without mishap.

Cathy on the Slope.

We took off our skis and found a nice looking Gasthaus. I don’t remember what we ate, but the bier we drank with lunch tasted awfully good. After lingering a while and doing a little shopping, we took a cable car back up the mountain. Following a short ski, and then an additional chairlift ride further up, we arrived at the border crossing into Austria, where we dutifully presented our passports.

Once through customs, we skied down the slope into Austria. We made a couple more runs, and decided to call it quits. It had been a tiring day.

We skied into town to a bar/restaurant we discovered earlier in the week, and after stacking our skis outside, walked in. The place was quite crowded. We found a small table, settled in, and ordered biers along with a couple of Poire Williams*, a French eau de vie (we called them Poor Willies).

As we sipped our biers, the band began playing and their first song was The Stones’ “Satisfaction”. We, along with half the crowd, jumped on the dance floor and started dancing in our ski boots. As we were dancing, the crowd, a mishmash of Austrians, Germans, French, Dutch, Italians and others from who knows where, were all singing at the top of their lungs “I CAN’T GET SNOW… SATISFACTION!” It was one of those perfect moments you can never replicate, but forever remains clear as a bell in your mind’s eye. To this day, I feel my boots hitting the floor in time with the music, hear the crowd singing to “Satisfaction” and see the look of laughter and love in Cathy’s eyes.

Eventually it was time to leave. We went outside to find our skis and make our way home. As we were standing there, Cathy grabbed her crotch with one hand and started pulling at her clothes. I burst out laughing and said, “What the hell are you doing?!” She looked me straight in the eye and answered, “I am adjusting my balls. I kicked that slope’s ass today!” With that, my wife threw her skis over her shoulder and started walking home.

Addendum:

  • Poire Williams is the name of a French eau de vie (literal translation – “water of life”), a clear brandy made from pears. Poire is the French word for pear, while Williams is the type of pear. In Germany and Austria, they make an equivalent bottling called Williams Birne Schnaps. Both are strong, and nothing like the peppermint schnapps we know here in America. Depending on the quality, you might either sip or shoot it.