Austria: Ski for Thee, Not for Me!!
- betsydelcour
- Feb 19
- 9 min read
For this sunshine--warm weather-palm tree-loving Florida girl, the timing of our stay in Germany has been suboptimal. Arriving in December, we've started our adventure in the absolute depths of dark, cold, dreary, miserable Deutsch winter. So in an effort to embrace the season and our geography, I decided to plan an Alpine ski trip for the family. I've only skied once before in my life (NC in Feb 2018) and it was a terrible experience for me, but I kind of blamed it on the fact that it was 60 degrees out and the "snow" was manufactured mashed potatoes. And, Casey wasn't with us. He grew up skiing, and I thought surely his absence on that trip had something to do with my misery?
Anyway, Casey secured days off for this 4 day weekend and left it to me to figure out what to do. I'd decided a ski trip was a must while we're here. In an effort to hit the "easy button," I found a military ski club based out of Stuttgart that does at least one organized ski trip almost every weekend through the season. They organized the travel (by bus! We could chillax while a professional dealt with crazy driving!), the hotel, most meals, transportation to/from the ski lift each day, and the cherry on top was being in the presence of other friendly Americans. One of the things I miss MOST living here is the general friendliness and smiling faces of [Southern] Americans, and I really miss being able to converse easily without memorizing sentences from Google translate.
The trip I chose was to Obergurgl in Austria. Ever heard of it? Me neither! But it's in the Tyrol region of Austria and is actually the last mountain range before crossing into Italy. Our drive to Stuttgart was 2 hours, then the bus ride was about 4 hours more. No worries though, we could nap and relax for that part. The girls sat together a few rows behind us, and I relished having all of that time with Case. It was the most time we'd spent together during waking hours in months, literally.
Crossing into Austria was like entering fairy tale illustrations. Snow capped peaks, green fields, torquoise-colored rushing mountain streams, Tyrolean architecture with frescoes painted on sides of buildings...and BRIGHT BLUE SKIES!! Clear sunshine washed over the stunning landscape and instantly lifted my spirits. Our hotel in Umhausen was about a 40 min ride from Obergurgl - I guess it was a cheaper option? But was packed with other skiers, so it was a lively place to be. We seemed to be the only Americans there in the region. Solden is a big ski town between Umhausen and Obergurgl so maybe it was a more international feeling there? But Obergurgl is known for never having lines for the lift, and felt like a local secret.
Optimistically I'd signed us up for a family lesson on Saturday. My thinking was that the girls and I would get some solid instruction on the bunny hill with Casey there to assist. Case grew up skiing in CA and was even on the USNA ski team, but it'd been a good 25 years since he'd skied. So we figured a slow start for him would help knock the rust off, and he'd be another person besides our instructor to babysit me and the girls. Our instructor was the gorgeous 23yo Ewelina from Poland. Her English was perfect and she was very sweet. She started us on an area next to the first gondola stop to practice getting in/out of skis, doing the pizza stop, turning left and right, etc. Casey stayed with us for about 15 minutes then ditched us. The call of the slopes was too strong and he quickly got bored with the mundane beginner stuff. I understood, but Ewelina rightly was focused on the girls, and I was left a little more to my own devices. I was doing ok with the stops and turns (getting in and out of the skis was the worst part for me) so I guessed I was ok. The girls were very enthusiastic - this was their first time skiing rather than trying to snowboard, and they took to it very quickly. After about an hour on the almost flat patch of snow, Ewalina and the girls decided it was time to go down the mountain. My stomach dropped when I saw what we were supposed to go down, but I was outnumbered and just had to suck it up. There were no bunny hills here, and this was the only way down. By then Case had rejoined us and I thought maybe it would be ok. Ewalina and the girls took off, and literally shaking in my boots, I followed with Case nearby. We'd been instructed to lean forward and make the pizza with our skis...so I leaned forward and picked up speed. I wedged my skis to slow down. Did nothing. I went faster down the icy slope, started wobbling out of control, started screaming "nononononooo!" and crashed. Knocked the wind out of me, fell hard on my butt and lost a ski. The girls (200m ahead) heard the crash and stopped. Poor Casey had to help me up. The thing that really sucks about crashing out on skis is...well, there's a bunch of things that suck: 1) crashing on your butt on ice in your 40s really hurts; 2) like a heiffer who's been tipped over in the night, getting up is nearly impossible - you're hurt, shaking, on a slope of ice and somehow have to push yourself up (after shoving your boot back into the ski); 3) competent skiers are flying past you and you feel like SUCH an idiot, especially when many of those skiers are toddlers; 4) there's no sitting out - once you finally get yourself upright, you see ALL of the distance down to safety you still have to cover.
I fell 4 more times after this first crash before reaching the bottom. I was trying really hard not to cry from the pain, embarrassment and frustration. I really don't like sucking at things. And I SUCK at skiing. And it's terrifying. Why would I ever think sliding down an icy hill would be fun? With people flying past the whole time, I was so afraid of crashing into someone else too. After an excruciating amount of time, I finally reached the bottom. Ewalina tried telling me how awesome I did for my first time, how she never has people go down the mountain so soon but we are just so good (YEAH RIGHT), blah blah. Between that and my family giving me "the look" (that says 'that was really pathetic and we're kind of embarrassed right now to be related to you, but we also feel sorry for you'), I decided to call it for the day. It was time for lunch (lesson would resume in an hour) and I figured I'd cut our family's losses. I was basically Chet Buckley from The Great Outdoors (remember the water skiing scene??); I was going to hurt myself, hold my family back, and basically make ALL of us miserable if I tried to ski again. And my body really hurt. I desperately needed a full day on a bunny hill, and there are no bunny hills in Obergurgl.
The good part though, on the other side of feeling like a loser, was that I got to really look at the mountains surrounding us while the others got back on their skis. It was an epically beautiful day; radiant sunshine, deep blue skies, crisp white Alps surrounding us. Though it was about 30 degrees, the sun was so warm that we sat outside for lunch and took our jackets off. The little town was charming, and while bustling, not overcrowded at all like you see in CO (the girls snowboarded there with their cousins a few years ago). There really were no lift lines, no wait at restaurants, plenty of space to spread out. After lunch, Case did a few more runs with the girls, then joined me. It was so nice having a few moments where we could just relax together. We went to an outdoor lounge area and got Old Fashioneds - for me it was a celebration of the fact that I was alive and never had to ski again!
The next day, we decided I would stay back at the hotel and relax (twist my arm!) while Case and the girls skied a few more hours. There was a festival happening in Umhausen that only occurs once every 5 years (though the tradition dates back to medieval times); it's called the Larchzieh'n. The gist of the festival is that it kind of pokes fun at single guys. The idea is that back in the day, most people got married during Carnival, before Ash Wednesday. Once Ash Wednesday hit, there were no weddings because it's a time of fasting during Lent. So, if you were still unmarried by this time, they'd make the single guys cut down a Larch tree, drag it through the street and auction it off. The oldest bachelor rides on top of the tree as it's dragged. I have no idea why this is done, but there it is.
I wandered down to check it out. First event started at 10:30am with an oompah band parade to kick off the drinking for the day. The festival was full of inside jokes I didn't understand as a foreigner (my German is bad enough, don't get me started on the Tyrolean dialect). Mainly in the crowd were men in traditional dress with feathers (and larch sprigs) in their caps. Then there were men dressed in traditional female garb with braided wigs and makeup, men dressed in tuxedos with tophats, a couple guys dressed as court jesters with rainbow umbrellas and one guy dressed as a baby in a giant pram, who had bottles of wine and beer in place of milk. The whole thing was very fun and silly, and felt very...not American.
In the meantime, Case and the girls' ski day was cut short when Molly flew out of control, off the edge of the slope, spread eagle, and landed on her back off a ten foot drop. She may or may not have lost consciousness upon impact. Luckily, her fall attracted the attention of every other person on the mountain and she was immediately attended to by other ski instructors and some doctors who were skiing. Thank God she was ok (and yes, she still had to ski down the rest of the way after that fall!). Just in case she had a concussion, Case called it for the day and they joined me earlier than planned. By the time Molly was able to tell me in person about her fall, she was laughing about it. (Ski crashes are kind of absurd). So we went back to the festival for the main event in the afternoon - the actual Larchzieh'n, the dragging of the tree through the town. By this time it was about 2pm and most people were thoroughly drunk. Some guy in lederhosen yelled at us to get away from his axe that was resting on a wall as we were waiting to enter. We backed off (we're used to being yelled at by strangers here in Germany) and he continued saying stuff to us (turns out he was jokingly yelling at us to back off his axe). I said "Englisch bitte?" and his face brightened. "Englisch!?!? Where are you from, England or America??" I said America and he said "You came all the way from America for our festival?!?" Lol. He continued to proudly tell me a bit about his home. Oetztal (the region of Tyrol we were in) has 600 peaks. It's said that when God created the world, his last action was to reach down to kiss it, and Oetztal came out of the foam from God's lips. May or may not be true; he was 3 sheets to the wind. But I liked the story and surrounded by such beauty, I could believe it. Shortly after, we had a front row view to the start of the log pull. It was ridiculous and fun (if you click on the link, watch to the end). Most of the bachelors walking around had bright red lipstick kisses on their cheeks. For the first time in many, many years I drank local beer (I had 2!) - it was actually delicious and very smooth. I only like beer in Europe I guess. We felt privileged to see this fun and charming regional tradition play out. The locals love their heritage but also poke fun at themselves - it's a nice balance.
The next day (Monday) was our last day there. The ski club group went out for their last runs in the morning. Delcours kept it low-key and walked around the town a bit more. The weather was starting to turn - blue skies were replaced by an icy mist over the mountains that was hauntingly beautiful. Despite some of us crashing out on skis (though 3/4 of Delcours still love it and want to go again), it was a great trip for us. I loved the time with Casey where we actually were on vacation, and could actually have time to talk and relax with each other. He's so busy with work here that we never seem to catch our breath. It was refreshing for me to have time with other Americans (I realize that the rest of the family sees other Americans every day, while I deal with mostly unfriendly Germans in my day-to-day errands. It gets stressful and depressing.)
So! It was a great weekend. I love the bit of Austria we were in. They say Austria is the least friendly European country, but we did not experience that at all. I hope to come back one day (and not ski)!
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