Ski-ing From Dawn To Dark In Bavaria

Press, Volume CII, Issue 30206, 10 August 1963, Page 2

Ski-ing From Dawn To Dark In Bavaria

It was 6 a.m. on a crisp, below-zero morning in Munich when I set out with two German friends on a ski-touring weekend which was to become the highlight of two glorious years in the lofty, picturesque mountain regions of Europe.

Even at this hour scores of old women, wielding pickaxes, toiled away in the city streets, chipping frozen snow and ice from footpaths and roadways. They then shovelled it into heaps to be loaded on to trucks.

The women were in a long line stretching for two or three blocks, as far as one could see through the darkness. Men stood at intervals, supervising. In this land, women as well as men must take what jobs are offering to earn a little money for the bare necessaries of living.

The city was alive with traffic for such an early hour We boarded a bus, one of several filled with skiers, and drove through side streets where the snow was banked high on either side, with small cuttings at intervals for people to cross from one side of the street to the other. The bus halted for a red traffic light and after brushing the frost from my window I could see a wide street. w<ith a row of fir trees on each side, each tree being decorated and lit with small

coloured bulbs. It was the festive season. The scene with a soft snow’ mantle on the ground and trees reminded one of a fairy wonderland rather than the heart of a city of a million people After driving out of the city along the Salzburg autobahn we turned off into narrow, icy country roads which took us past sleeping vilages. and frozen. snowcovered lakes as we drove closer to the mountains Then, abruptly it seemed, we emerged from the fog and into the warm glow of earlymorning sunshine. The mountain tops stood out sharply in the clear, clean air. We knew we would have a perfect day of skiing.

Soon our bus reached its destination, a small mountain village, and we shouldered our skis and rucksacks and set ,-off through cold early morning mist. On the outskirts of the village we said “guten morgen" to a milkman delivering his wares from a mule-drawn sleigh Ski-ing To Work

Our route lay up a gentle slope ait first, along a path which wound through fir forest Often we had to jump aside hurriedly to avoid skiers as they came down to their jobs in the village. • We climbed steadily upwards. and soon came out above the mists which clothed the lower valleys early in the morning. All around were sun-drenched fir forests, with clearings made here and there for skiers.

Ski heil! The cold, invigorating air tore at our clothing as we skied down the valley The snow was new and very wet and my skis forever found hidden rocks which sent me sprawling headlong in the white mantle We reached the floor of the valley, and then climbed with skis on our shoulders over a ridge and into the head of another valley This provided a very steep descent plummeting between trees, along narrow’ winding tracks and over bridges, finally coming to a large clearing where scores of persons of all ages were ski-ing It was a picturesque scene Smoke from a little wooden mountain hut curled lazily

from the chimney and drifted upwards in the still, sharp, frosty aiir. A dog stretched out full length, enjoying the sun's warming rays, and children’s voices came to our ears as they strove to stand upright on their skis. We had soon left this pleasant scene far behind and were once again climbing, then skd-ing, climbing, skiing, climbing, ski-ing. . . , Mountain Sunset There seemed no end to our route back to the village. It was now 4 pm. and to the left the sun was setting rapidly, shedding the most beautiful tones of red and gold over everything. We rested momentarily to breathe in the beauty of it all, and then the sun was gone behind the mountain range, but still reflecting red. glowing rays upwards in a

fan across the heavens. We topped the summit of the last mountain and turned off on to a small, narrow track, hardly visible in the fading light. It was quite eerie ski-ing here among the trees, the only sound coming from the three pairs of skis as we braked at intervals to make a turn, or to ski over bridges, some of which were only two narrow planks of wood, one for each ski.

We were still quite high up. Above us stars shone clearly, and far below the lights of traffic shone through the mist. We had little time to spare.

Pressing on over rough ground we at last sighted the bottom of the run and one last spurt brought us to the roadway. Skis were whipped off and w’e ran frantically on tired, aching legs into the village to catch the bus back to Munich.

I shivered on the journey back, for the many spills during the day had saturated my heavy clothing Alighting from the bus at 7.30 p.m we trudged wearily homeward. along with many other enthusiasts returned from a memorable day in the Bavarian Alps.