White World

Wednesday morning dawned snowy and overcast in the Austrian Alps and that’s just how we like it. More snow overnight promised a day of fluffy goodness ahead. Yesterday was the last day of lessons so today we were our own men. Dave and Flo decided to swap their boards for skis and become pricks on sticks for the day. Ant and I, remaining true to the cause, checked out our boards and headed for the cable car.

Rising up the mountain, the valley opened up before us as the fog cleared and the sun shone through. The view was amazing, the trees frosted over, the surrounding slopes dotted with small homesteads. The cable car moved silently, swaying gently through the air effortlessly lifting us higher. Early morning snow was still falling from branches as we cleared the treeline, heading upwards past Middle Station. After a journey of about 6 minutes we reached the top of Stubnerkogel (2250m).

Stepping from the cable car and into our bindings, it was time for a few minutes of reflection. To the south of us lay the way to Italy and the Adriatic, north to the great plains of Germany, east flows the Danube and to the west the Alps run without interruption to France. Feeling refreshed and inspired, it was time to eat snow.

Traversing (flat sections between slopes) on a snowboard is not the most pleasant experience I’ve ever had. Navigating a track little wider than a laneway with a drop off one side and a wall of snow the other side as more stable skiers whizz past is challenging. On more than one occasion I picked up my board and trudged along the flat.

If the flat traverses were unyielding hell, the steep pistes were powdery heaven. It was so easy to get a nice edge and the forgiving snow even allowed me to perform the odd turn. As the boys will testify, I do like my toe-edge and will quite happily glide down entire mounatins that way despite the burning in my calves. I was gliding sideways down the mountain picking up more and more speed and loving every moment. Comapred to the icey slopes of yesterday, falling was almost a pleasure. Wandering a bit off piste, I was quickly in deep drifts several feet deep. The shading from my goggles cast an orange glow on the otherwise endless whiteness around me. Were it not for the occasional other human, I could have been on another planet.

We did a few runs from the summit down to Middle Station, revelling in the deep snow, cursing the tiredness in our legs. On the last steep slope I treated Ant to the comic sight of me edging perfectly over a steep drop, snapping a salute and singing Danny Boy as I shot past some bemused skiers. Life was good.

Back down in the valley, we changed out of our gear in time to enjoy fully body massages at the local thermal spa. Then across the road for a late lunch where I had fantastic rack of lamb and a cold beer. This afternoon has been one of downtime and relaxation. Ant is snoring loudly on his bed as I type. A morning of enjoyable physical exercise followed by a hearty lunch does that to a man.