Skiing Blind

Today I woke up naturally from the sun at about 0700. That means I got to oversleep even more, and then take my time to shower, stretch, and shave. Somehow I got to breakfast after 0920. They would have had to start cooking it at least 10 minutes before I arrived for it to really be a 15-minute egg, but I guess that's what they did.

There are a trio of Swedes who always show up to breakfast last, after I do. They actually stay across the hall from me. They were still there and we took the same bus to the resort, but today I was later than even them to breakfast. They said they were going to ski in Lech today, where the weather was supposed to be nicer. There's a ski bus that goes to Lech, as there is no ski access between the two big areas (though I believe the resort is planning on or arguing about making such a lift to link them.)

Probably it was a prudent decision on their part, as today again there was a lot of snow and wind, and it was impossible to see anything. Today and yesterday it was snowing constantly but for some crazy reason they still operated the snow cannons at and on the way to Stuben. Yesterday while having lunch on the chairlift there I poured some water on my suit (to wash the egg of shell bits, you know) and in the less than a minute it took to reach the top of the chairlift, it had frozen to ice. That is why I stopped into the restaurant there; to let it thaw. I thought, "it must be cold out!" It doesn't feel so cold inside my black space suit.

This morning I did that powder bowl above Stuben again, but the second time I came to it, the clouds had risen or built up that high. I traversed out into the bowl following some tracks, but they gave out eventually and since I couldn't see anything I soon lost track of where I was relative to the piste. Rather than ski in the general direction of "downhill" without being certain where I was, I turned around and made my way back slowly through the powder to the run. There were a few points today where it was possible to get lost, or where people and even buildings would sort of slowly fade into view out of the fog like mirages. Normally with my goggles I can detect subtle differences in shade of the ground right in front of me, even in thick fog, to anticipate where darker patches of hardpack or ice are and avoid them, or go on my edges. That doesn't help so much for anything further out than the next turn. It's challenging to ski blind, because you can't plan ahead for the terrain or route: you might go slowly only to find yourself stuck on a flat you should have accelerated to pass, and have to skate. Or you might be going at a nice speed along a shallow decline only to have the ground drop away beneath your feet as you pass a ridge. I made extensive use of the piste markings at the side, and once almost forgot which side of the marked piste I was on (i.e., which side of the sign I was supposed to be keeping to.)

I even went up the gondola to Valluga View restaurant to try to get above the clouds. It was small, less than half-full, and everything was slightly more expensive than anywhere else. I took the pisted run down from there because even at that 2650 meter height, there was no visibility to speak of so I didn't want to take a wild "ski route" blind. There are a few of them up there I'm aching to try when I can see them. For lunch today an hour later, I had a small but filling cup of Hungarian goulash soup at the Gampen restaurant (right above St. Anton's main lifts.) It was full of meat.

There was actually better visibility along that mountain in the afternoon, when I guess the clouds floated higher. It didn't entirely make up for the traffic Gampen gets killing all the snow. What I'm missing now (besides my sweet girlfriend and the skill at skiing I swear I once had) are tree runs. They don't have any here: any place with trees is cordoned off as a nature preserve and you can't ski in them. I feel like I ski better when I have to react. Skiing feels much different when you do it right: when your legs are moving right beneath you with your balance centered over them and you use the pressure from the hill to rock you into the next turn.

I found a couple of apres-ski bars on the hill that were recommended to me by some British folks, but then I realized that hanging around a bar like that by myself isn't really my scene. So I did another run and made it a short ski day: I was back in my hotel around 1600.

Dinner I got at the Pfeffermühle restaurant that I went to my first night here: wiener-schnitzel of pork with chips. It's two fairly large schnitzels; a nice meal for the price. The restaurant was completely full by the time I was done, and this little kid crawled around bothering people until his mother retrieved him.

I forgot to mention this before, but it turns out my first night here I put my skis in the wrong room by the door. There were some skis and boots in there so I thought that's what it was. I found the real ski room I think yesterday, and they do have boot warmers in there, so my boots remain dry.