(Day II of our weekend skiing adventure - you can read Day I, in Salzburg, Austria, here.)
Saturday, 25th February, 2012 - We awoke bright and early and maybe not so bright eyed and bushy tailed to a really thick fog. Not a big deal, except that it made the view out the window of breakfast a little less spectacular than I was hoping for. In fact, compared to the view across the valley the day before when I drove to Berchtesgaden to check us in, this was downright drab.
I had actually been pretty excited about getting to see the sun rise in the valley. I had also been excited about seeing the morning sun spill across the mountains from Eagle's Nest, Hitler's favorite residence which just happened to be at the top of one of the mountains here. We had decided the night before that since we were in Berchtesgaden we really needed to drive up there, even if it meant losing half a day of skiing. We went back and forth quite a bit over our delicious breakfast spread provided by the really sweet old German couple that owns and runs Pension Haus am Berg (literally "Boarding House on the Mountain). Our final verdict was that we would go up there that morning anyway, even if the view wasn't going to be that great. We had a re-established plan.
We stopped by the tourist office on our way, to double check where I thought we were going. The woman was incredibly short with us in informing us that not only was Eagle's Nest closed for the winter, the hiking trails that you can usually take up there were also too covered in snow to be passable. We took that as a challenge. After all, we had seen on TripAdviser.com that people had made the hike a month before and were raving about it. We drove up and were certain that we passed the 'small unmarked turnoff' we were told was the road up. We looped back and tried to drive up. Until we discovered it was pure ice. So we backed down again and parked nearby, ready to take the road on by foot. This looked promising, right?
Until we got up to where that blue sign is...
It was a water treatment facility. Then we had to slide and shuffle our way back down, complete with flailing arms.
We returned to the empty area we had parked in, and upon further inspection and climbing over some snow drifts we decided that in fact the woman at Information had been correct, this was where the road should have been, and the snow was easily three feet high, over five where the snow plows had packed it up against the side of the road. Fine. Not quite completely deterred, we drove through the little town we were near to a mountain road manned by a gated guardhouse. The woman inside was very friendly, told us that this was not the road up to Eagle's Nest, but it went very near there an still provided an lovely panorama of the valley, but frankly it would be a total waste of our time and money to go up there today. Well, at least she was honest. So, finally convinced of the fact that we wouldn't be making it up to Eagle's Nest, we drove back down to Jenner-Könnigssee, one of the five ski areas in the valley. Supposedly this had the most 'advanced' slopes.
We parked, we made our way to the base, we figured out where to rent... It's been a while, but it felt so good to be back in a ski shop!
After getting outfitted we headed over to the lifts to buy our passes. The fellow at the register was kind enough to give us a 10€ discount. Not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but we asked why. Oh, well, the top half of the mountain was closed due to an avalanche warning. Well, we were already there, we had our skis, at this point, we didn't really care what was open, we just wanted to hit the slopes. We took some very spiffy two-person pods up to the midway point, the highest we could go that day, and finally got a better idea of what, exactly, we would and would not be skiing that day.
The red X's indicate that those runs are CLOSED
But even that couldn't dampen our spirits, especially when we got around the bend and saw this:
Life was good. Even with the roof of fog the view into the valley was still pretty hard to beat. Speaking of valleys, one thing I noticed over the weekend was how flat it was between where the mountains rose up. I thought it was really interesting, because I'm used to the Rockies where there's some variation between them coming down and making a V with a little river gorge or something, and occasionally a more spaced out area, but with slightly rolling hills. Everywhere we drove here, if we weren't going up a mountain road, it was completely flat, and the area between the base of two mountains was really wide. I'm really curious if it's like that throughout the Alps, or if this geography is unique to this region.
Unfortunately, the slope in the picture above was the widest that it ever got; the rest of the (one) run down was sort of a hybrid between a Cat track and a slope. It was wider than a Cat track, steeper, and not as well groomed, but it was still very definitely a beginner run and there was no real choice of where to go. Despite this, we still had a blast! There was almost no one else out there, we were skiing, we were together, and if nothing else the view made it all worthwhile. I can't put my finger on how, exactly, it was any different from other views I've had while skiing, but something about it was just euphoric.
We stopped after only a few laps because we were getting hungry and it was nearing 1:00. Normally I like to save my ski breaks and use them as opportunities to rest or get some feeling back in my fingers and toes, but we got a late enough start that had we done that, we would have closed down the mountain.
There was a little restaurant next to where we rented our skis, and for lack of many other well-marked options, we figured that place would be as good as any.
It was great! The interior was exactly what I would expect for a little German restaurant in the woods, the food was hearty, warm, and delicious, and the beer was, naturally, plentiful. I have to admit, it didn't top my all-time-favorite ski lunch of a baked potato and bigger-than-your-face brownie from the Paradise Warming House in CB, but this made for a pretty close second.
We went back out after lunch and there were a few more people on the slope, but it wasn't crowded by any means. After one run we decided to detour out to the benches overlooking the valley next to the lake they had to make snow. It was off of the main run, but we had seen other people from the lift trekking through the powder. The fog had lifted, well, slightly, so we had an even better view.
We dropped our skis at one of the benches and decided to follow a trail off through the woods a bit to an opening we could see in hopes of getting a better view of Königssee, the lake at the base of the mountain. Although it was obscured by forest, I still felt completely unburdened sitting in the snow looking out across the way.
After a time (post snowball fight and failed snow angles) we figured we ought to get going again. As we popped back into our skis, we noticed that the lifts weren't running any more. Oops. We duck walked back up to the slope and joined up with a group of ski patrol who were making the final sweep down the mountain. They were having a jolly ol' time and told us they figured the top half of the mountain ought to be open the next day. We attempted to get one picture of us with the mountain in the background from a little old woman wandering by, but she must not have understood our heavy American-accented Deutsch, because there was no sign anywhere in the picture of the major mountain looming up out of the fog behind us. Oh well.
We turned in our gear and headed back into Berchtesgaden. We walked around there for about forty five minutes, but even though it was before 6:00 the town was completely dead. Cute town, though. We did find one café that was still open and bought their famous chocolate shaped like some of the mountains surrounding the town. Luckily I was also able to get a postcard, something I was admittedly a bit disappointed about not being able to pick up since all of the shops were closed.
We also saw this little gem:
I mean, we have Jackalopes where I'm from, but a marmot-duck-goat? With a walking stick and a pipe? I'm at a complete loss even for a name for such a fantastical creature. Maybe there's a German name for it that I haven't learned yet.
Since there wasn't much else to do, we went back to the House on the Mountain, cleaned up, and killed a little time since we were still full from lunch. There was a little fire going in the living room downstairs, so I read by that for a while (it's been so long since I've read in front of a fireplace; they just don't have many of them in Austria!). Eventually we headed out for dinner at a Bräu (pub) I had read about on TripAdvisor.com, Bräustuberl Berchtesgaden. It was again a large dining hall setup with a series of huge rooms, but the food was absolutely fantastic (Erica claimed the best meal she had eaten since arriving in Austria) and the beer was fantastic. I bet this place would be really neat to come to in the summer, too, because there were a lot of outdoor patios, and maybe even an upper deck that overlooked the valley. We spent a while there, letting dinner settle before having a go at chocolate covered and ice cream filled Palatschinken (Czech crepes).
Needless to say, we went home that night thoroughly sated.
P.S. For our final day of skiing, retune to Austria...
Unfortunately, the slope in the picture above was the widest that it ever got; the rest of the (one) run down was sort of a hybrid between a Cat track and a slope. It was wider than a Cat track, steeper, and not as well groomed, but it was still very definitely a beginner run and there was no real choice of where to go. Despite this, we still had a blast! There was almost no one else out there, we were skiing, we were together, and if nothing else the view made it all worthwhile. I can't put my finger on how, exactly, it was any different from other views I've had while skiing, but something about it was just euphoric.
We stopped after only a few laps because we were getting hungry and it was nearing 1:00. Normally I like to save my ski breaks and use them as opportunities to rest or get some feeling back in my fingers and toes, but we got a late enough start that had we done that, we would have closed down the mountain.
There was a little restaurant next to where we rented our skis, and for lack of many other well-marked options, we figured that place would be as good as any.
It was great! The interior was exactly what I would expect for a little German restaurant in the woods, the food was hearty, warm, and delicious, and the beer was, naturally, plentiful. I have to admit, it didn't top my all-time-favorite ski lunch of a baked potato and bigger-than-your-face brownie from the Paradise Warming House in CB, but this made for a pretty close second.
We went back out after lunch and there were a few more people on the slope, but it wasn't crowded by any means. After one run we decided to detour out to the benches overlooking the valley next to the lake they had to make snow. It was off of the main run, but we had seen other people from the lift trekking through the powder. The fog had lifted, well, slightly, so we had an even better view.
We dropped our skis at one of the benches and decided to follow a trail off through the woods a bit to an opening we could see in hopes of getting a better view of Königssee, the lake at the base of the mountain. Although it was obscured by forest, I still felt completely unburdened sitting in the snow looking out across the way.
After a time (post snowball fight and failed snow angles) we figured we ought to get going again. As we popped back into our skis, we noticed that the lifts weren't running any more. Oops. We duck walked back up to the slope and joined up with a group of ski patrol who were making the final sweep down the mountain. They were having a jolly ol' time and told us they figured the top half of the mountain ought to be open the next day. We attempted to get one picture of us with the mountain in the background from a little old woman wandering by, but she must not have understood our heavy American-accented Deutsch, because there was no sign anywhere in the picture of the major mountain looming up out of the fog behind us. Oh well.
We turned in our gear and headed back into Berchtesgaden. We walked around there for about forty five minutes, but even though it was before 6:00 the town was completely dead. Cute town, though. We did find one café that was still open and bought their famous chocolate shaped like some of the mountains surrounding the town. Luckily I was also able to get a postcard, something I was admittedly a bit disappointed about not being able to pick up since all of the shops were closed.
We also saw this little gem:
I mean, we have Jackalopes where I'm from, but a marmot-duck-goat? With a walking stick and a pipe? I'm at a complete loss even for a name for such a fantastical creature. Maybe there's a German name for it that I haven't learned yet.
Since there wasn't much else to do, we went back to the House on the Mountain, cleaned up, and killed a little time since we were still full from lunch. There was a little fire going in the living room downstairs, so I read by that for a while (it's been so long since I've read in front of a fireplace; they just don't have many of them in Austria!). Eventually we headed out for dinner at a Bräu (pub) I had read about on TripAdvisor.com, Bräustuberl Berchtesgaden. It was again a large dining hall setup with a series of huge rooms, but the food was absolutely fantastic (Erica claimed the best meal she had eaten since arriving in Austria) and the beer was fantastic. I bet this place would be really neat to come to in the summer, too, because there were a lot of outdoor patios, and maybe even an upper deck that overlooked the valley. We spent a while there, letting dinner settle before having a go at chocolate covered and ice cream filled Palatschinken (Czech crepes).
Needless to say, we went home that night thoroughly sated.
P.S. For our final day of skiing, retune to Austria...
