The Monday Morning Epistle

Despite the fact that Garion is now walking (or more accurately staggering around like Frankenstein's monster on amphetamines) he still has to wait a couple of years before ski lessons. The Kinderskischule requires kids to be at least 3 (and potty trained) so Garion and I spent the entire week happily tromping up and down farm roads and trails around St. Veit. I initially rented one of the traditional Kinderschlitten, thinking that I could tow Garion along behind me, but he didn't like having snow in his face, and I didn't care for the way the sled accelerated on down-slopes and knocked my feet out from under me. After only a few half-hearted attempts at sledding, we switched back to his baby-rack, and both of us were the happier for it.

The Austrians-like their German neighbors-are enthusiastic walkers, and the nice lady at the Rathaus was more than happy to provide me with a complimentary Fußwegplan that detailed dozens of hiking paths across several Alps. Not only were the trails plowed regularly, but they were also clearly posted with signs along the way so I didn't have to rely on dumb luck and bread crumbs. (I'm navigationally-challenged.) Since I have been annoying Mary by working out on the cross-trainers at the gym on a regular basis, the exercise was not as physically demanding as expected, so I was able to really enjoy the scenery, even with 30+ pounds of Monkey-boy on my back. I also carried my digital camera with me, and put together this collection of pictures, tentatively titled How to Take Black and White Photos with a Color Camera. Although my original plans were to ski cross-country, I found the walking so exhilarating that I eventually cashed in my voucher for Langlauf lessons and took the family out to dinner with the proceeds.

Our typical day started with everyone trooping out to the bus stop at 9am, where Mary and the Gruesome Twosome caught the free Ski Bus for the 15 minute ride to Alpendorf. Garion and I would then head out across the valley for our first hike of the day, which usually lasted until about noon. Typically, the morning was a flat 'long-distance' hike of 5-7 miles out and back, usually to any one of several nearby villages. We would then return for lunch at a small café in St. Veit, which became a regular 'play date' for Garion and Lara, the proprietor's 1½ year old daughter. Once enough beer and French Fries had been consumed, the two of us would stagger back to Hetteger Haus for a joint afternoon nap, which left just enough time for a shorter hike in the late afternoon. Unlike the morning hike, the afternoon was usually a 'high-altitude' climb, where we trudged up steep farm roads to heights of between 3,000 to 3,500 feet. From there it was an easy downhill trot back to meet the returning skiers at 5pm for more beer and French Fries.

After four straight days of training, Friday was Garion and my finest hour: we walked from our Gasthaus in St. Veit to the Bierstube in Alpendorf to watch the ski school awards ceremony. When I asked the guy in the tourist office about the best foot route to Alpendorf, he replied "Head for the main bridge in Schwarzach, then follow the river to the second footbridge. Cross over towards Liechtensteinklamm and wait for the Ski Bus." The first 10 miles were an easy walk as we meandered through the woods along the river, so it wasn't until we were half-way up the 2 mile/1,500 foot climb leading to Alpendorf that I began to understand why his directions included the Ski Bus. But thanks to determination, good health, and a distinct lack of alternatives, we arrived right on time at four o'clock, just in time to witness Alex's crushing humiliation.

Alex took 5^th place in the ski school downhill competition, with a time less than 2 seconds behind the gold medalist, a German boy almost exactly his age. The 'crushing humiliation' part came from Alex telling everyone before the race about his anticipated 1^st place finish. I love him as a father should love a son, and will forever be proud of him, but there's no way to dress this one up: he bragged about winning all week. The only saving grace is that he at least finished well ahead of Jacob's 10^th place time, so Alex hasn't completely lost the will to live. I did notice, though, that he gave Garion his consolation medal and was rather subdued while at dinner with his peers Friday evening.

The only low note of the week came when we returned home to discover that my BMW wouldn't start. Since the car hadn't been driven for nearly a month, a dead battery didn't come as a huge surprise, but what began as an annoyance ended up as an embarrassment when I couldn't even find the battery! With Martin's help, we located the battery tucked away under several modesty panels, and we jump started the car without incident from his A Class. I also learned that the German word for 'jump start' is Freundhilfe-which literally translates as "friend's help"-and I couldn't think of a more appropriate word to describe it…

KidBit: Since tomorrow is our birthday, we informed our children that in lieu of expensive gifts they could prepare and serve us dinner; naturally, this show of filial love would also include cleaning up the kitchen afterwards. Alex and Jacob listened with obvious horror, then asked hopefully "Can we do pizza from Rauchfang?"

PotW: Garion riding on his sled for the first time. In case you can't tell from the picture, he didn't like it…

Until next week…Tschüß!

,,,^..^,,,

09:07 17 Mar 04