In times like these one can't help but question what life is for in this day in age where heartache and violence, over seemingly material possessions, dominates media headlines and focus is becoming less on the good qualities of life. A place like this reinforces that life is much larger than our own causes. This is however not the place for such debate. It is a recount of a journey to through skiing's birthplace, that is hardly old school with the state of the art lift system, and the fellowship and people we met along the adventure.

And so begins the difficult task of putting a gazillion thoughts into the story of my innogural ski adventure to the old and wonderful world of European alpine skiing. So much to capture in this space. With no further a-due, the experience went something like this...

Fri. Feb 19th

Feeling extremely pent-up in anticipation to bust loose from the hustle and bustle of the daily grind to be one with nature held a great appeal, however it was first things first and these next 24 hours would be a true test to my patience threshold. I made it to this point and so I figured with a little patience I could make it through this long haul of flights and transfers without going bonkers. Our gear was all packed, checked in (so we thought, more on that in a bit) and after a few pit stops on the 401 we were at the gateway to St Anton Austria. A moment I had long awaited, ever since the countdown started in my office cubicle.

Upon arriving at the Toronto airport and getting our luggage checked in for our overnight flight to Munich Airport we were transported to what looked like NASA north, adding to the atmosphere of what turned out to be an out of this world experience.

There I chowed down some pre-flight fuel while studying the mega resort map. Anything to keep my mind occupied to kill the next 3 hour wait at Pearson Airport. And, we were finally loaded for take-off. After a slight delay and were airborn and enroute.

Despite feeling overcome by excitement and the restlessness that goes with it, it was time for an indefinite shut-eye session –4 hours straight hoping to wake up on the flip side while minimize any ensuing jet lag! Almost made it all the way which wasn’t too shabby by overseas virgin standards.

Sat. Feb 20th

The sun was beaming through my eye lids and had awoken me to broad daylight at around 9am Munich time (3am Ottawa time) that equated to less than 1.5 hours till our scheduled arrival time. At that point I realized that I had slept for 75% of the flight which was starting the trip off well.
We landed in Munich Germany at around 10:15am. Temp was at freezing point and overcast.

I was about to set foot in foreign territory for the first time in my life. Feeling a tad nervous to be out my comfort zone in a different kind of way at this point yet still as ready as ever to get up there and hit the alps and get on with the skiing part of the trip – the essence of the journey.

We picked up our luggage less our skis thanks to a luggage screw-up for all passengers on our Air Canada flight, including the gear of the Canadian Paralympic team who were to start training for a World Cup in Austria only a few days later. Our American friend’s skis turned up from his American Airlines flight. We filed a claim and the claims desk couldn’t give us any reassurance for an estimated arrival on our skis (they were left behind in Toronto). Since our shuttle was already waiting and warmed up we hit the road for St. Anton.

The shuttle bus was the last lag of our journey to the Alps. We were all getting a little restless at this point just wishing we were there already and indulging in the nude saunas. The bus ride was long and twisty (switch back haven) and incredibly scenic. Our driver, Manfred lived in Innsbruk yet hardly gets a chance to ski because of his long shift hours. When he heard that our skis and the equipment for the Canadian disabled ski team didn’t turn up our driver said to my father in his Austrian tone of voice that “in St Anton you only need sunglasses”. This was reassuring to know that at least chances were good that the weather would be cooperative for the week.

Our foursome travelled in Manfred’s luxurious Volkswagan van with two other Americans from upstate NewYork. We figured this all-north American passenger shuttle was to give Manfred a chance to practice his English. One of the Americans was an avid climber and had made it as high as base camp 4 on Everest. If it were not for typical Hymalayan storms that force majority of hard core climbers to turn back to lower ground, he was convinced that he would have pushed for the top. We were all engaged in his stories he told and interested in hearing about his daring summit push through “the death zone” on Everest and how he got involved in the expedition in the first place. He had a lot of engaging stories both good and not so good to tell.

The drive between the “Flugafen Muchen” (Munich Airport) to the Austrian border and the German foot hills was mostly flat. Most of this stretch consisted of snow-covered uneven farmers fields alongside the autobahn. We passed the site that hosted the 1936 Olympics at Garmish where alpine skiing as an Olympic sport was first introduced. A World Cup ski race was held on that particular weekend as we passed through. The drive from there onwards was incredibly scenic, especially in sections along the highway that consisted of sharp twisty switchbacks where the edge of the highway dropped off some gargantuan faces. Those stretches helped us to keep Manfred company and see where he was taking us.

The arrival: FREEDOM AT LAST!

By the time we had arrived to the town of St Anton we were becoming much less coherent. Knackered ness was starting to kick-in as our bodies were still programmed for Toronto time 6-hours behind which took some adjustment to my 27 year old internal coo-coo clock. The biggest one for me yet.

We arrived in St Anton late that afternoon and a grand arrival it surely was after more than 24 hours in transit between home and our hotel. The fun was about to begin. But first, some much needed Z’s and powder dreams – in a bed!

Sun. Feb 21st

This day marked a momentous occasion in my books and a first – skiing in the Alps, something that had been on my life’s to do list for what had seemed like forever.

Day 1 started at the crack of dawn - 6:30am in the shower. Our deluxe breakfast was served at 7:30 in the dining lounge. On the menu was Corn Flakes, assortments of fruit, eggs, bacon, sausage and wholesome bread. After filling up the system we headed for the hills less our skis since they were still back in Toronto (thanks Air Canada), I rented a nice pair of Volkls at our airline’s expense which didn’t turn out to be such a bad thing afterall despite accusations of “cheating” on my boards as my pal Rob had put it so ever eloquently.

After swiping our Arlberg cards through the base’s validation checkpoint we were en route to higher ground up the Nasserin Gondola. Pretty psyched, we were all glancing at our maps discussing plans on what terrain to tackle first. Being the Euro skiing virgin I was, it was just our luck that on our first run I led my clan down into a most difficult run in a bowl filled with steeps and moguls. A supplement to breakfast yet not exactly our ideal way of warming up to a 6 day ski vacation. It was dubbed the craziest warm up run we’ve done on any ski trip to date since the last time we said that.

The weather on this day was partly cloudy with intermittent fog that seemed to follow us with the odd clearing in the sky and periods of snow. What winter day would be complete without all these elements? A fresh blanket of snow gave us a preview of what was in store for us for the rest of the week. Little did I realize, we would be completely spoiled of the rotten variety. In fact, on ski day #2 our friend Bruce was overheard saying “this powder is too deep!”. This must mean there can be too much of a good thing to some.

If a regular picture is worth more than a thousand words then a panoramic must be worth double as what seemed to be the case with the Alps. The film footage in ski movies and spectacular magazine photo shoots I had seen of the Alps leading up to this trip simply doesn’t capture the vastness of this place into a string of frames. 83 ski lifts are spanned across 7 different ski resorts in the Arlberg region that all had more to offer than by most of the largest North American ski resorts put together. And better yet, they are all interconnected which makes this indeed a world class resort beyond equal. For the duration of the week I was awe-struck by the quality of snow, hospitality of the people and the Bavarian culture’s joie de vivre that was truly inspirational.

On the subject of culture, something I had never experienced or heard of before planning this trip was the “no bathing suits allowed” rule in the co-ed saunas. I never thought that women would actually exercise their right to get co-ed naked but sure enough there were some and they weren’t very shy about it. I figured these women had to be Europeanized or at least not from North America given how conservative and non-liberal North Americans are in comparison towards nudity in public places. So yet another first experience experienced.

Outside our hotel on the second day we bumped into some folks from our town of Ottawa (proving it’s a small world) and we immediately started comparing notes about the Austrian beauties – hot spots that we had discovered across the 7 or so mountain areas. We also found a new guy to chum around with for the après ski part of the trip. From that point on we would hit the big night hotspots, with “Picadelli’s” and the funky chicken bar being the two biggest party places in St. Anton.

On our first night out in St Anton, I decided to check out earlier than the others for the night with my wingmen staying out to close the bars. When I got back to the room I crashed pretty hard as a result of going hard all day long to recharge my batteries in hopes of day #3 being just as epic. My friend decided to stumble in some 45 minutes later only to find that he was locked out of the room since the door needed to be locked from the inside out I kept the key in it in the event that there was ever a commotion. He did what any normal person would do at 1 in the morning and tried waking me up. However, little did he know that I was still wearing my ear protection from when we were at the bar so I didn’t hear the banging, hollering and phone calling that ensued for the next hour or so. The manager of the hotel couldn’t even get him into our room with his own set of tools (in addition to his god given ones). This went on for the next 3 hours or so, waking up most of our wing of the hotel in the process. My friend Rob ended up passing the night downstairs sleeping on the comfort of a bar bench (there are only a few worse arrangements that I can think of).

The next morning at breakfast my pals and I were given some cold-blooded stares from some of the other guests in the hotel, and my wingmen weren't hiding the culprit in all of this when they passed the buck onto me. It was at that point I realized how much of a deep of a sleeper I am. Looking back, it turned out to be one of the funnier moments of this trip and something I have absolutely no regrets about given the entertainment value it has provided in this story.

Remainder of our week in a nutshell:

The balance of our week was spent in the high alpine of Zurs mountain which much to our delight was one heaping stash of powder. This mountain had arguably some of the most breath-taking terrain and powder filled gullies of anywhere I’ve been in my 25_ years of skiing. The weather patterns between the mountains in St. Anton and Zurs differed substantially in terms of snow accumulations and skiing conditions which was a wonder in itself given their proximity and similarity in altitude. This just goes to show how
mountains have more control over the weather than one would think. And it felt as though they were ranges apart.

We were recommended by our other Ottawian counterparts in our hotel that this mountain was THE place to play in the opinion of the guide they hired to take them to where ULLR stashed all the deep and delightful snow. Its deep powder, G-force feeling cruisers, wide open bowls, vista after vista plentiful and more canyons than we could possibly ski in this trip combined with more blue bird days than the skin on my nose could handle, even with several layers of SPF 30. Because it was in a sheltered part of the Arlberg range that managed to keep the clouds at bay it held its own with the snow staying remarkably fluffy and dry from a half-meter dump the week leading up to our visit. All these factors synergized into the perfect mountain for us to gravitate to and conquer. And so this became our starting and ending points for the next 4 consecutive days.

For skiers looking to maximizes their time on snow while keeping commutes to a minimum, the impressive lift system at this resort here deserves a notable mention. With its wide, interconnected array of trams, gondolas, 8-person "double-quad", 6-pack detachable lifts, and unconventional high speed triple chairs, many of which use conveyor belts to facilitate moving the flows of skiers most of the 7 areas within this mecca can be accessed by skis. If you're eager to take the express bus for first chair the choice is also there. It can be argued that St. Anton has one of the most skier friendly lift systems in the world.

Friday – grand finale Zurs mountain – this day marked our grand finale and this curtain call was nothing short of spectacular. In the afternoon we found a breath-taking canyon on the backside of Zurs mountain that provided for a fitting last run. On that journey into the great beyond we crossed paths with a family of Austrian mountain goats that seemed to be as transfixed by the view as we were. This sight of them was a humbling reminder that this beautiful land is their home and that they were born into it, long before the resort came and assumed it. It is now up to us skiers to do our part and preserve its beauty so that we can coexist and share it with them for generations to come. This trip defining run engraved a lasting impression in our photo albums and desktops.

In my last few days in St. Anton I had a revilation; of all the places I've visited in my travels through skiing over the years, this place could be the epitome of the greatness in life. Its mountains represent a perfect sanctuary for witnessing the effects that mountains and nature's wondrous beauty can play on hearts and souls alike. How insignificant and humbling it makes one feel. It is a pilgrimmage that everyone with a spiritual side should witness to discover the very essence of what it means to leave behind the everyday recurring things that invades lives and minds by going to a place where life is pure and simple, a sacred place that ultimately rejuvinates the spirit.

On Saturday we were bussed back to Munich Germany by Ski Can for 2 days of touring of WWII sights. At night we hit a discotheque at the club 4004 warehouse of 4 theme rooms and 1500 Germans that knew how to live the night to its fullest. Using their walk-in urinal loos, where we were given only four walls to relieve our beverages, had to be the most entertaining part about that night.

Our second Sunday consisted of taking the S-train to the site of Dachau Concentration camp that was set up in 1933, a few weeks after Adolf Hitler had been appointed Reich Chancellor. This site served as a model for all later concentration camps where over the twelve years it operated more than 43,000 of the 200,000 people imprisoned there had died as part of Hitler’s regime to exterminate innocent civilians of a Jewish descent. The audio-guided tour we took conveyed some of the many horrid things that transpired there during that time. This tourist attraction is hardly a substitute for the wretched real thing. In Germany, school children are required to tour this camp which is a good thing. Every person who visits Germany should make the journey to a concentration camp and learn this history lesson of the horror, dread, sorrow and pain of those innocent civilians that were sent to concentration camps the importance that it never be repeated or forgotten. This visit was somewhat of an anti-climax to this trip yet very humbling and important to pay homage to those who fell and endured.

Our next stop was a visit to the world famous Hofbräuhaus) beer hall in downtown Munich. This hall is historic for two main reasons: