Friday, March 30, 2012
Munich Flat
Our flat was very conveniently located--about three blocks from a subway stop, and 4 or 5 stops from the central station. We were in an older neighborhood of apartments, but right down the street was a great small grocery and an amazing butcher shop (Black Forest Ham...o.m.g.). Our flat was on the third floor, which offered nice views. It was three bedrooms and two bath...we have learned that for Europe, this is rather roomy.
We have come to most always prefer vacation rentals rather than hotels...especially in Europe where a family of five often requires three separate rooms. Ugh.
We have come to most always prefer vacation rentals rather than hotels...especially in Europe where a family of five often requires three separate rooms. Ugh.
The Small Christmas Toboggan Competition of 2011
I had only one previous sledding experience from about age 8 or 9. We went to visit our awesome Colorado cousins, and they had a nice hill behind their house as well as a sled. This was actually the first time I had ever seen snow...but most of what was on that hill was ice. From what I can remember, the sled was hard to control and falling off was not fun. Who knows what the reality was, but that's what I remember.Our adult snow adventures have never even offered the opportunity for sledding...but the Austria lodging had a traditional sled we could borrow. The kids had lots of fun pulling each other through the snow. As was pictured in the posting from the top of the mountain, we even took it up on the lift. Lots of fun.
And what a great way to wear out a five year old!
Then we discovered that these ski areas have groomed sledding tracks. Like long tracks down the mountain. So on Christmas late afternoon, we had a taxi come get us and take us to the place where we rented sleds and accessed the track. It was four kilometers up the mountain. The drive was gorgeous up a one-lane snowy road through the woods, following along side the Altenmarkt ski slope.
I had high expectations regarding some sort of modern fancy schmancy sled, maybe with an mp3 player and some cushions and a drink holder. Certainly with steering and brakes. But no...the sleds were the traditional type. No cushions. No cup holder. No steering. No brakes. That, and Jack was deemed too young/small to control a slide by himself.
Read that again carefully, because I had to think about that...too. small. to. control. This should have provided some sort of hint, but really, my brain was on vacation.Therefore, we got three sleds: one for Hank, one for John/Hannah, and one for Me/Jack.
Did I mention no brakes and no steering?
Well, actually, that's a fib. The brakes and steering were "embodied." In the driver (and passenger). The track was a narrow single-lane path switch-baking down the mountain through the woods (not the same road we used to drive up). It was about the right width for a nice four-wheeler adventure in warmer months. There were no protective structures on the sides--although a little snow was banked up. If one were to lose control, one would hit the bank (~6-18 inches deep) and then continue on (1) into a stream, (2) into some rocks, or (3) down a very steep hillside full of snow and trees.
We ended up taking two trips down the track--the first one was mainly trying not to go over the edge. Steering involved a combination of digging one's boots into the snow and putting pressure on one heel or the other. Going around the 270-degree turns (switchbacks) also involved serious leaning...enough to swing around quickly but not so much to tip over. The trip took about 15 minutes, involved a number of tips and stops, but eventually smoothed out and perhaps started to turn into a little friendly family competition. Okay, to be blunt: it turned into a smack talk fest and yelling about who was going to win the spontaneous race.
Here's a short video documenting a piece of that first trip. You'll see the clumsy learning process.
So after the first trip, when the driver (the lovely daughter in law of Opa Schoeber!) suggested we have one more run before dark, we all jumped at the chance. And thus began The Small Christmas Toboggan Competition of 2011.
It started, after a LOT of smack talk with Hank in the lead. After all, as a single rider, he was quicker off the block. But gravity and 40 years of Double Daves Pizza Rolls were on the side of the two adult/kid combo packs. Soon we both passed him, with John/Hannah in the lead. Then, at a switch back, they took the turn a little severely and tipped over. John sort of formed a cage around Hannah, and the actual tipping occurred at the slowest point of the turn, so no one was the slightest bit frightened or hurt...however, being the kind and loving exemplary mother that I am, as Jack/I approached, I slowed a little and yelled, "Are you okay?!?" Upon hearing an affirmative reply from the mound of snow, sled, and Land's End parkas, I screamed "COME ON JACK! LET'S WIN THIS THING!" and promptly maneuvered around the scene of the accident, squealing with the inappropriate delight of a Mother Who has Just Achieved Victory.
Through the next three switch backs, we turned smoothly, in fact enlarging our lead. As we rounded the final turn and started flying down the very long (1/2 kilometer?) straight stretch leading out of the woods and to the finish line, I might have been gloating loudly and proudly. In fact, to the point that I might have been momentarily distracted from my balancing act--the process of applying gentle pressure foot-to-foot to keep the flying sled in the center of the track. And thus is how, despite the nice, flat, groomed track leveling out in sight of the finish line, Jack and I took a long and uncontrolled swerve to the right. Hitting the 12-inch-high snow curb with quite a bit of speed sent both of us airborne, Jack attached by the force of the throw to my front, sort of like a sky-diver-in-training setup. And that's how we skidded, face down for a good 6 feet in the deep snow, with Jack doing the excellent job of a good son, cushioning my fall.
I was horrified, thinking now I've done it. I've killed my son on Christmas day. Now who's going to help Hank pay for the cat food when I'm an old lady with 259 cats? I flipped over on my back and asked, "Jack? Are you okay?" When he answered with a laughing yes and stood up, my relief was so great that all I could do was start howling with laughter. Laughing so hard that I couldn't do anything but lay on my back sort of "yip yip"ping in convulsions of hysteria. Laughing so hard that I didn't care about the snow packed into my nostrils (Jack was too short for full-body protection). At this point, John/Hannah came down the final straightaway. They slowed when they saw the overturned sleigh, Jack standing in awe, and me splayed on the ground. With all the concern invested in 20 years of life together, John called out, "Are you okay?" Knowing he would be dreadfully worried, I yelled "Yes, we are O-KAY!"
At which point he screamed, "COME ON HANNAH! WE'RE GONNA WIN!" and went flying past us. Even the single skinny noodle eater passed us, despite Jack screaming "COME ON MOM! PLEEEEEASE GET UP! WE CAN STILL BEAT HANK!"
This was one of the most wonderful things we have ever done as a small family. When I got back to the lodge, Jack had a small scrape on his nose (gone the next day), I had huge chunks of snow crammed up into the legs of my snow pants, and John and I both had significant parts of our boot heels worn away.
When can we go back?
A Lifting Experience on Christmas Day
At our normal ski escape in New Mexico, you could not ride the lift unless you were skiing. Not so in Austria. So on Christmas Day, we celebrated by taking the whole fam on a ride up the enclosed lift. It was cold and windy, but the view was worth a short stop. Here's a few pictures of the ride.
Zauchensee had several closed in lifts, which were lovely in the wind.
This was the clearest day we had--the gorgeous blueness peeked through but then the clouds would close again.
Looking back down the mountain on my way up.
Our fearless travel companions.
We took the borrowed sleigh up to the top of the mountain, where Princess Hannah then demanded to be pulled by her kind oldest brother. All I could think about was what would happen if they tipped over the edge and headed down the intermediate (steep) drop...
Party of seven (minus John, the photographer), on top of the world.
Hannah's First Ski Lesson
Oh heavens. Time for the enthusiastic and somewhat athletic third child to join the skiing fray. After watching the first two take beginner lessons, I developed a good grasp of some basic techniques for getting them started, so rather than pay a lot of money for a lesson where language would be an issue, we just took on the task ourselves.
All geared up...
Mother's Note to Self: Next time, triple check the size of the ski bib you bring from the desert, because the size 8 that you thought was a size 5 was a little awkward. Thankfully, the daughter was a good sport.
Mother's Note to Self: Next time, triple check the size of the ski bib you bring from the desert, because the size 8 that you thought was a size 5 was a little awkward. Thankfully, the daughter was a good sport.
The training slope was actually closed, because no classes were scheduled, so what to do? The answer is the Papa Ski Lift. Her father would pick her up, walk her up the hill, and send her gliding back down to me. I carried her a couple of times, and it was freaking hard work. Hands-on parenting.
She fell just as much as a normal person of any age falls in the first day of learning. Nothing horrible, thank goodness, but she still got a little frustrated after a while. Hugs from Dad helped.
On the second day, we found the larger and nicer second kids' area (Zauchensee was bigger than expected!), and she had a good time on the belt lift. By the end of a long second lesson, she could stay upright but not quite steer yet. Next year's lesson--if we're lucky to get the chance--she'll be ready for some big steps.
And here's one of her first day tries...
Skiing Zauchensee: 2011
We just have to note that, being from Texas and typically praying for a tax return big enough to drive to New Mexico for a week of skiing, writing or saying things like "yes, we skied in Austria" is a surreal thing. You hear yourself say it, but then as you listen, you wonder "who the hell is that talking? cause I'd never be saying something like that!" However, when we looked at the costs of getting back to the US to ski as compared to going to Austria...well, the savings were substantial to go to Austria. As a reminder, since it has takens us THREE MONTHS to post these adventures, an introduction to Zauchensee is here.
Last time Jack skied, he was eight years old, and he was good enough to handle all beginner slopes as well as crazy enough for some blues. He "skied the face" at Red River, New Mexico. But it had been almost two years since then. Thankfully, he picked it right up, just like riding a bicycle. And he was full of enthusiasm for it all, even when the snow was blowing.
Hank picked it up again immediately--he can out-ski me in terms of being fearless, and he has the advantage of "good knees" (where my knees tend to strain or hurt). He does not flinch at a mogul.
The slopes had a number of chalets with good beer (!!!), good food, and warm fires. This one was our favorite, one of the least fancy. I guess in some ways it reminded us of New Mexico. What a lovely place to have Christmas lunch!
And finally, here's a little sample of an easy path through the woods. Lots of lovely, soft powdery stuff, and so. much. freaking. fun. to ski with my family. I can't wait for Hannah to be able to join us!
Altenmarkt Village:
Harry Potter. And Beer.
So we took a free ski bus or a lovely local family taxi (Opa Schuber was the owner and one of our drivers) would come get us and take us into the larger village next door, Altenmarkt. This is not the same village where we caught the train--that was even more town further over, Radstadt.
Oh my word, this was like a gingerbread village out or something out of Harry Potter. Not much English, but people were mostly kind and patient. It had a nice grocery (probably more than one, but without much English and carefully timed bus/taxi service, we were conservative), as well as shopping.
Regarding the photo below...yes, there is Mexican food in Austria. No, we did not eat it.
The family who owned our Zauchensee lodge also own a restaurant and small hotel in Altenmarkt. Animal heads and all, it reminded me much of the pubs in the smaller Scottish villages (more surreal feelings that I can say that).
Did I mention the bread? Did I mention the beer?
Top o' the Mountain
There are some views that one must experience, and no photograph can really do justice.
Thankfully, Zauchensee allows folks to ride down the ski lift as well as up it (unlike Red River, our normal haunt) so we could take Mom and Dad "upstairs" with us even though they weren't skiing. The view is sumpin else.One of the things you can see from up there is that there are LOTS of pistes. That would be a ski run in nermal Texas talk, but maybe it's an appropriate name since many of the folks we saw were indeed pissed. I mean piste.
Anyway, it wasn't just one mountain, but several, and you could even ski to different towns and ski back. There were so many choices it would take days to run out of new runs, err, pistes.
Aside: Has The Lecturer talked about our efforts to learn German slang? I'll let her explain about a pinkelpause - which we saw but didn't take pictures of. Speaking of being piste.
OK, here's a map:
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