One thing Kiwis and Austrians have in common is that they really seem to appreciate their country and know how to make their natural surroundings. New Zealanders love to ride, sail, swim, climb and jump all over their country – a marvellous attribute.
Likewise, Austrians love taking off to the mountains in their spare time. Of course this doesn’t go for everyone, but generally speaking, in these parts most people have a garage full of outdoorsy-type toys.
While New Zealanders are currently busy enjoying hot days at the beach, Austria is buried under one of the biggest snowfalls for many years. Alpine villages look like that part at the end of Ghostbusters when the Marshmallow man explodes covering everything in white mush.
It’s a beautiful time of year, and aside from regular snow shovelling there are still plenty of ways to get the most out the mountains, the most impressive to me being the regular night ski tours up one of our local peaks, the Zwölferhorn.
It usually takes a couple of hours to reach the 1500m high summit with touring skis and there is a hut near the top serving beer and hot food year round.
On one of my first trips to the summit the weather was atrocious, but it was a Tuesday and my colleague Sebastian and I always went on a Tuesday. It was snowing heavily and the wind was gusting so hard we were almost blown over as we trudged up the
mountain.
We used headlamps to light the track but with the wind blowing the snow around the visibility was terrible. Luckily Sebastian knew the way well. The wind was at its strongest and the snow stung our faces as we slogged along the final ridge towards the
cross that marks the peak.
After a quick handshake on top, we quickly strapped on our boards and slowly made our way down to the hut a hundred metres or so below the summit. Pushing open the hut door, you realise that actually you’re not a brave adventurer pushing the limits of
mountaineering, but one of the Tuesday regulars. Yes, the hut is full. It’s hideous outside and yet 60 other like-minded folk chose to eat their dinner at 1400m above sea level in a blizzard.
Fed and with a couple of pints of the region’s finest put away, we set about boarding down, which on that night was equally as challenging. The storm was worsening and we crept down unable to see more than a few metres ahead. Often Sebastian was impossible to see even though he just a few feet away.
Eventually we made it back to the car, tired, cold but thoroughly invigorated about our mini-expedition. Needless to say we were back the following week.
On nights when the sky is clear, the moon and stars light up the valleys the view is spectacular. Headlamps from other skiers bob their way up and down the slope and it’s hard to find a spare seat in the hut.
There are hundreds of mountains like this across the country, and it’s hard not to be impressed by the fact that people still get out and enjoy their surroundings in any conditions.
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