Stubai Doobai Doo.....

I started this post a week or so ago.... and finally got around to finishing it. We've been a bit busy...

Das Fassmeister and I joined a ski club in Frankfurt this year, and this past weekend was our first trip. The club tries to design trips around American and British holidays, because that's who most of the members are. It was Veterans day weekend, so this trip left on Thursday night for a long bus ride to Austria. We got into the Stubaital area at around 2AM, slept for five hours, and started the pain.

Day 1: Wiesel, Come to the Dark Side
As I mentioned, the ski area we went to was on the Stubai Gletscher (Stubai Glacier). I had never been skiing on a glacier before, but it was picked because there is guaranteed snow on the glacier year round. We weren't expecting great snow, but we didn't care. That's because, this year, I have turned to the Dark Side. That's right, I decided this year I was going to go full bore on the snowboard. I now shred the nar-nar, ride the single plank, and ruin the skiing for everyone else.

I have become everything I have ever hated.

I have also convinced the Fassmeister that she, too, should try this. I warned her of the pitfalls that may come with a Wiesel getting Method Air, or doing a Phillips 66 or Inverted Aerial by himself. It's inevitable, and the ladies can't resist it.

So we rented a couple of boards and boots and headed to the glacier. Neither of us had been on a snowboard in about 10 years, but the really good part of this trip was that it included a full first day of lessons. Even better was that, other than the Fassmeister and the Wiesel, there was one other person taking lessons. Essentially, this allowed us one-on-one lessons with the instructor. The instructor was excellent, too. She was very methodical and determined to help us learn.

She was, however, rather homocidal. The first thing she had us do was climb up the mountain. The base of the main glacier (middle of the mountain) is at 2900m (9500 ft). There is no oxygen there. None. Zero. When one of us was breathing heavily, no one else was allowed to breath at all. Look Damen, we're fat Americans, stop doing this to us or we'll invade. I mean it.

After the climb, the instructor (we'll call her Juaquin) had us frontsiding, backsiding and mostly sliding around. All well and good. Then came the lift.....

No, not a gondola, not a chair lift, not even a T-bar.... here comes the Platter lift. This type of lift is similar to a T-bar, but you just have a disc tied to a cable that is supposed to go through your legs. All well and good for a skier (who rides like a lobster), but snowboarders glide sideways (much like a crab, which is why snowboarders and skiers can never get together... ). This forces the cable into your thigh the whole way up. Serious pain by the end of the day.

Juaquin taught us full turns and yelled (and smacked) at the Wiesel numerous times for flailing his arms while turning. That's ok though, I came from the Bobby Knight school of coaching, so I can take a hit.

Anyway, the day went well, we were both very sore, and the apres-ski was nice. Kalt bier (oder heiss gluhwein) makes the bruises go away. We went back to the hotel and had dinner. The Fassmeister went to bed and the Wiesel ended up in a discussion of WWII military tactics with a Finnish girl. She was convinced, I'm sure.

Day 2: Recipe for Disaster
Not enought sleep, over-confidence, and slight powder can make evil bed fellows (not as much as the crab and lobster, but I digress). We started off pretty well, the turns were good, and the soreness of the Platter lift was showing. After lunch, we decided to take the Gondola all the way up to the top. We could have taken the T-bar but neither of us were skilled enough not to take out the entire lift. Besides, at the altitude of the top (Schaufelspitze 3333m, 10935 ft) your blood will boil if you move around too much and don't wear a g-suit.

So, we cruised up to the top, and the scenery was just gorgeous. But, we found that the trails from up there to the front of the mountain were narrow and bordered by canyons. We wanted to get to the easier front face of the glacier without dying (we wanted to make it to the apres-ski festivities) so we walked.

We started heading down what we thought was a pretty easy sloped face, and found out we were out-classed. The fassmeister seemed to take it slowly and just get down. I thought for sure that all that practice and success on the bunny slope would allow me to shred like there was nar-nar tomorrow. Nein, nein. I was mistaken. I rolled down the hill, mostly. The board embedded itself into moguls, my thigh, and steel poles on the way down. The ladies were less than impressed.

We returned to the bunny hill for the remained of the day.

Apres-Ski
It is tradition (in Europe at least) that after the lifts close, everyone hangs out outside (still in ski clothes) listens to loud music (ABBA), and drinks heavily. For several hours. It's as much fun as you might think. The lack of oxygen aids in the festivities, and the Germans (pretty much Austrians are just southern Germans) are by far the roudiest I have ever seen them. They even talk to each other.

Day 3: Recover and Ride
By day three, the bruises can barely be felt (they're pretty much calloused) and everything is feeling more comfortable. We did really well this day. We didn't leave the bunny hill, but we had a fellow club member work with us on our turns and were getting really successful at them. We boarded through lunch and caught the bus at 3ish for the long ride back to Frankfurt.

All in all it was a good experience, and I'm excited to keep up the boarding all season. We're not sure the next time we'll make it back out (probably January), but we're ready!