Showing posts with label Bob Wingerson. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bob Wingerson. Show all posts

Saturday, March 5, 2011

Skiing in and around Austria: Stubaital and Zugspitze

[Image above is the mountain at the end of the Stubai glacier called "Zuckerhuettl," one of Austria's tallest peaks, on the Austrian-Italian border. Tim Forward and I climbed this mountain.]

In the spring of 1968, my friends and I did some interesting skiing outside of Innsbruck, Austria. One day, Bob Wingerson, Tom Forward, and I (and possibly one or two other guys) went skiing on the glacier on the great Zugspitze, on the German-Austrian border. That day was so warm that we took off our shirts and skied for a while shirtless. Somewhere we have photos of this wonderful day of skiing. On another day, Tim and I borrowed seal skins from Liselotte Schartner or Caecilia Werth and headed up to the end of Stubaital for an incredible weekend adventure. The seal skins were long, thin skins that fit over the tips of skis and then ran underneath the length of them. Because of the grain of the skin, you could actually walk uphill--and that's what we planned to do--walk up the Stubai Glacier to the great mountain called Zuckerhuettl, one of Austria's highest and most spectacular mountains, right on the Austrian-Italian border.

On the first day of this adventure, Tim and I took a train up to the very end of the Stubaital (Stubai Valley). From there, we hiked uphill for many hours until we came to one of the mountain huts that exist all over the Austrian alps. This place might have been called a hut, but it was really a substantial structure that could accommodate maybe 20 or so guests, sleeping on Matratzen placed one next to the other. The hut even offered simple meals--and, of course, beer! Someone had to port all these things up the mountain (or maybe there was some sort of utility lift that moved the food, beer, and other supplies up to the hut). So Tim and I spent the night there (probably for about a dollar) and then left early the next morning to climb up the glacier to the top of Zuckerhuettl.

It was a perfectly clear day as we climbed up the mountain. The seal skins worked perfectly, and after a couple hours we reached a ridge that we couldn't ski over. We took off our skis, climbed over the ridge, then proceeded with our journey. The sun was really totally unfiltered, with no clouds, and it reflected off the snow. Tim and I were smart enough to wear tinted ski goggles--but not smart enough to wear any kind of sun screen. It hadn't entered our minds. And Tim, with his fair skin, would pay a price for this later.
After another couple hours hiking up the glacier, we arrived at the foot of the final "horn" (as in Matter-horn). The peak of Zuckerhuettl was a very steep glacier-carved horn, and we had to climb the last 100 yards or so by foot. So we removed our skis, and began the last difficult climb. If I remember correctly, there was a rope that we could grasp on this last trek.

After 15 to 30 minutes, we arrived at the top of the great mountain, and looked over the entire Stubai Valley, the vast glacier, the many peaks. Looking down the steep south slope of Zuckerhuettl, basically a cliff hundreds, maybe thousands of feet in length, we looked into Italian territory.
Tim and I were at the top of the world!

Then we skied down the glacier. It was a long, spectacular ride down the glacier (except for the middle ridge, which again involved a little climbing). After about an hour or so, we were back at the mountain hut. And a couple hours later, we were at the base of the mountain, catching the last train back to Innsbruck.
The next day, Tim paid the price for wearing no sunscreen . His face and lips were badly sunburned. His face looked like a raccoon's (because his eyes were protected from the sun by ski goggles). Somehow my darker complexion saved me from a terrible sunburn.

The sunburn was soon healed and forgotten and Tim and I were left in indelible memories of our trek up Zuckerhuettl.

Thursday, January 29, 2009

Skiing in Austria (Part 2)

My NotreDame-Innsbruck friends and I skied all around Innsbruck (and adjacent countries, Germany, Italy, and Switzerland). In Innsbruck we skied occasionally on the mountain called "Patscherkofl," just south and east of Innsbruck by the beautiful village of Igls. You took a Seilbahn, a cable car, up Patscherkofel, and got off about 300 hundred meters below the bald, treeless peak of this characteristic mountain of the Innsbruck area. I believe it was possible to ski from the very top, but the snow could be sparse and icy, and the winds could be ferocious without any tree cover at all. We would ski down a trail through the forest called the "Herrenabfahrt," the men's downhill run from the 1964 Winter Olympics. If you wanted scary, this was scary, especially if, like a downhill racer, you went full out through the forest. A false move, an icy patch, and you could be dead. I traversed, crisscrossed, the trail, slowing my speed and increasing my safety.

Another place we skied was on the Nordkette, the northern chain of mountains just north of Innsbruck and the Inn River valley. This involved taking a funicular train from the valley floor up to Hungerburg, and then a cable car up to the area called "Seegrube," about 2000 meters of elevation above see level. There was a decent ski area at Seegrube and a nice terrace to sit in the sun on warm days (which were fairly rare). If you were very brave and crazy, you could take the final step, via cable car, to the very top of the Nordkette, the peak called "Hafelekar," and try to ski the narrow and incredibly steep shoot, 1000 feet vertical drop, from Hafelekar to Seegrube. Then, you could ski the zigzaggy trail, perhaps a mile long, the rest of the way down to Hungerburg. From there, the funicular back to the Inn Valley and Innsbruck (except, if you were cheap and broke, like I was, you could walk the train track back to the city. Brian Wilson and I did that one time and my thighs ached for 2 weeks).

Who did I ski with most often? It's hard to say, but I imagine my ski companions included Tim Forward, Brian Wilson, crazy Patty Laflin, Bob Wingerson, and really most of the other Notre Dame-Innsbruckers. Only a couple didn't ski.

Uebrigens, by the way, Tim Forward is an architect, Brian Wilson a pediatrician, crazy and brave Patty Laflin became an FBI agent, and I've lost track of Bob Wingerson, but I believe he still lives in the Detroit area.

[More coming in "Skiing in Austria, Part 3"]