Winter Wonderland

Man-made global warming is the greatest hoax ever to be pushed upon the people of our planet.  To the contrary, I’m quite convinced that after a brief blip in the nineties, we are now entering the next ice age.  I know this to be true not because after making billions off the hoax and doubling his girth, Al Gore is in hiding; but rather and more importantly because of the science of direct observation.  Last winter, I directly tested my theory at Crystal Mountain, Washington.  There was near record snowfall and the longest ski season in the resort’s history (skiing in July).  Not being one to be satisfied by one point of data, I traveled this winter to the heart of the European Alps to directly see what all of the Europeans zooming about in their diesel-exhaust-spewing cars were complaining about.  There was talk of receding glaciers, little snow, bad Americans no Kyoto, wahh, wahh, wahh!  Let it suffice to say that those Europeans who were crying are nowhere to be seen.  In the Alps, they, as are we, are buried in snow. 

It started snowing here around the 5^th of December and except for a few 2-3 day respites, and raining on New Year’s Eve, it hasn’t let up.  The most recent storms to whack us over the course of 4 days left us with about 7’ of snow in the village and double at the mountain tops.  The locals say it is the most snow in 10 to 30 years (depending on the local you talk with of course…how would a local who has only been here for 10 years know what the previous 20 years were like?)  Now you understand why my science is indisputable.  I love snow.  I even love shoveling snow.  I grew up shoveling neighbor’s driveways for spending money.  In the winter I love the exercise of shoveling snow at our cabin at Crystal Mt., favoring a hearty roof shovel over a snowshoe death march with Traci.  The owners of our house here are British and returned to England for 3 weeks for the Holidays.  I promised I’d keep the place shoveled.  Big mistake.  Big mistake.  Even with a hearty snow blower it was a losing battle.  I lost.  I’m sick of shoveling snow.  My wrists and back hurt.  Bad. 

We had a great Christmas, going out on Christmas Eve (when the locals celebrate) to a fabulous restaurant where little Austrians were all dolled up in their lederhosen and singing Christmas carols in front of a raging fire.  When they got around to “silent night” (written by an Austrian in WWI) it was actually very cool.  The next morning we enjoyed a quiet Christmas with a simple tree.  We set low expectations about gifts this year, given our propensity for traveling light, yet the kids were truly delighted with what they received.  We hunkered down and went into homework and crowd avoidance mode for most of the week before and after the New Year.   

So back to skiing and the snow.  One of the forgotten joys of a youth that is becoming ever so distant past, is the creation of your own ski jump, better known in ski lore as “a kicker.”  It is a rite of passage for kids to have to build their own kicker, and any parent with a heart has to help or at least condone the activity.  On New Year’s Eve some fine young locals had built a kicker about two blocks below our cabin.  Note the key word “below” and not “near” or “next to” and then consider a two block hike through waist deep snow for access.  Hayden rather impulsively decided that he wanted to do a helicopter, which for the non-skier readers is a 360 degree spin off a jump.  So at the end of a great ski day, as the snow turned to rain and the daylight to darkness, Hayden tried about 10 helicopters off this jump, with his mother at his side, slogging his skis back through the waist deep snow up to the starting area.  Being the engaged parent that I often am, I was shoveling snow off the deck, and having once been a master of the art of helicopters, shouted (really loud as I can be) encouragement from the deck.  So on try #10 or so, in the fading light and fading hours of 2011, Hayden stuck his first of what will undoubtedly be tens of thousands of helicopters.  Traci and I were so proud and so excited.  I thought I was young when I achieved this passage to manhood but Hayden beat me by two years.  I was also vividly reminded of what a wonderful woman I married as she trudged through the deep mashed potato snow, helping and encouraging him while attempting to ruin my camera.  So the next morning, in the now very wet, deep snow of New Year’s Day, Hayden requested that I accompany him to the kicker for some more helicopters.  This was at precisely 6:30 a.m.  While most fortunate Americans were waking up to watch some of the greatest professional and college football ever to be played, I, having been deeply shamed by my wife the night before, was forced to agree to this simple request, albeit an hour or so later in daylight.  Being a parent, and clinging to the only thread of influence and leadership that I currently have, I dutifully agreed but insisted that we build our own kicker, much closer to the cabin, for easier access and observation.  After an hour or so, using the perfect wet snow, we created a masterpiece.  After his trial jump deemed it safe, Hayden’s first attempt was the always unsuccessful 270.  His skis were stuck uphill so I trudged through the snow to help.  As I gripped his ski in beast mode and undid the binding while pulling towards me, I discovered upon impact with my shin that kid’s skis do have remarkably sharp edges, even without being tuned in a month and having encountered miles of ice, several meters of rocks, and probably 50 meters of metal rails.  What started as a small boo boo two weeks ago has grown into a larger, somewhat infected wound which doesn’t seem to heal when pressed against the tongue of my ski boot every day for 20,000+ vertical feet, not to mention Traci forcing me to skin about 1600’ up the mountain every third day.  We set a goal to ski every day that we’re here, so I’m sure that in the next 8 weeks or so it will miraculously heal.  If not, I’m confident that upon encountering the sanitary mecca known as India all will be well.

So Hayden stuck a helicopter after about 4 tries off what turned out to be a tough jump.  He was getting better quickly but then suffered a bit of a setback after he learned that once the landing area of a jump gets packed out, it becomes much harder and hurts more when you miss.  After breakfast as the family headed out to ski, I thought I’d impress Hayden and the rest of the gang and lead by example to show how easy a helicopter really was.  I promptly tried 3 helicopters:  the first on the kicker we built…a horrible jump by the way;  the second on the one where Hayden made his first helicopter with Traci the night before (those local punks don’t know how to build jumps);  and the third and final in front of a small crowd of skiers off a cat track.  I fell fairly badly after each, with my pride taking a progressively worse beating after each mangled attempt.  Sticking one used to be like breathing for me, and now Traci and the kids were calling me the big “O-fer” (as in 0 for 3).  Shamed, I went to bed early and cried myself to sleep.  After a night of mental positive imaging, I approached the terrain park with new, grim determination.  I nailed my first attempt with about 6” of air off a kiddie jump.  Not proud or pretty but done.  It may have been my last. 

Over the past few days we had the lovely Mrs. Julia Clarke visit us from Seattle.  Suffice it to say that she is a great skier and it was a pleasure having her join us for three days.  She put herself in mortal danger by skiing with the Janssen clan, with three kids and one adult skiing dangerously fast and out of control around her at all times.  Her composure was remarkable except for one “s-bomb” screamed aloud as she followed me blindly off a snow drift.  She experienced a bit of planes, trains and automobiles getting here, finally showing up about 24 hours behind schedule due to avalanches closing rails and roads, but she gamely cut short the next stop on her itinerary by a day, showing a tremendous grasp of priorities.  We managed to ski St. Anton, Lech, Zurs, St. Christoph and Rendl.  About 40 lifts and as many miles of great tracks!  Thanks for the visit Julia!

Below are the latest pictures and a couple videos of snow, snow and some more snow.  In all seriousness the snow just let up two days ago and we are due for a long spell of sunny days which we are looking forward to as there is so much to see and explore. 

January 15th will mark the end of our 6^th month traveling.  I can safely say that each of us is glad we undertook this trip.  I can’t believe a half year has gone by so quickly and we’re half done.  While thinking about this at first was a bit depressing, the glass half-full is a much better outlook.    We have an incredible 6 months ahead of us, with seven more weeks in an incredible ski area that we now know well, with incredible conditions and friends coming to visit.  That in itself is more than anyone could ask for.  After we head East in March, we’ll get to experience incredible parts of the world that I’m sure will be as, if not more, interesting than the places we’ve been to date and where we will hopefully be visited by family and more great friends.  As the Germans say…”Alle ist Gut!” (or something  like that).  Wishing you all the best! 

Sydney displaying the latest Euro fashion trend

Traci not to be outdone

Nor Halle.  Hayden wasn't buying it.  Actually they are modeling so that my mother can make these for a future school auction.



Hayden or "Ski Hawk"



A little church in the woods where we hiked and the local school kids sang Christmas carols



Christmas Eve...courtesy of Sydney Janssen

Christmas morning.  note Halle's belt of ribbon which was soon to take on immense proportions as she added to it with the bows from each gift



Halle.  I think that's Halle?



Waking the kids up for first tracks, only to be forced to wait an hour for avalanche control



Sydney needing a break



Think he got any face shots?



Sledding from the patio



Life is good as long as you have a bear hat



Hayden 320 degrees around..



Success in the dark and rain

Poor dad.  0-3



First in line at the first lift to open



Sydney experiencing the rewards of first tracks.  She is a powder skiing machine.



Traci not to be out done



Brian...More speed

After Sydney helped me shovel the car park roof, she was responsibly encouraged to jump the 15 or so feet off the roof by her father and promptly post-holed in up to her neck and was blissfully stuck



Julia Clarke and Traci apres ski at the world famous mooserwirt.  Don't know who took this photo as I was of course at home watching/teaching the kids



The first sunny day after the storms.  The light was so bright and foreign to us that despite 4 photos Halle couldn't keep her eyes open in any of them



Brian and T-bar buddy Halle.  Riding a T-bar with someone half your height is one of the world's most difficult feats, especially going up steep hills.  Sydney thought this was funny for some warped reason.

Julia and Traci at  the beginning of an epic day



Avalanche Saftey 101.  1, 2, 3 Jump!



Sydney foolishly following her father's tracks (all of them did).  Poor Traci.  She often disagrees with my decision making for some reason.



In Lech and Zurs they not only have heated chairlift seats but these handy little escalator thingies so you don't have to exert yourself too much.

Goulash soup and a weissbier in Lech after 5 hours of nonstop skiing



Julia and Traci relax in Lech



They deserved a soda



Happy after some great turns



Skiing down to Zurs

St. Anton, Austria

November was a probably the most travel intensive portion of our year abroad.  4 days in Italy, 12 in Egypt, 4 in London, 3 in Luxembourg, 9 in Paris and the last in Switzerland and Austria.  All were very enjoyable, yet it was intense period with dozens of transitions that left each of us a bit frazzled.

We opted for the train from Paris to St. Anton, Austria.   Our family loves trains; stress free except when you have to unload 6 huge bags and at least as many handbags with kids wanting to help and having only a few moments to actually accomplish the feat .  As I mentioned earlier, our kids love schlepping bags.  One really cool thing that they fight over is who gets to pull the roller bags.  While this might seem helpful, before said bags can be rolled they must be carried down the steps of the train and on to the almost always crowded platform.  Since these two rollers are so heavy, I’m the only one who can lift them without causing personal injury and so there is always about 60 seconds of chaos when unloading.  A fine balance requiring lots of shouting, lots of apologies to fellow passengers, and trying not to lose a kid in the river of people disembarking.   It is quite a comical site as we make a small mountain of luggage and kids in the middle of the platform, blithely ignoring those people who scoff at our apparent rudeness whilst they swarm around us and carry on their way.  I call it the “Moses effect” and it will undoubtedly be used effectively yet again.  So the train doors shut on our tails as we landed in the cold alpine air of St. Anton.  The stop was about one minute and I felt that the train disappearing in the distance must contain some critical belongings of ours that would be lost forever but alas we made it with all gear intact.  Skiing here in the Alps for a winter had long been at the core of our travel plans, so it was a bit of a relief to have “arrived”.   

St. Anton is the so called “cradle of skiing” in Austria.  Skiing was first documented here in 1895 and the world’s first ski club started in 1901.  In the 1920’s and early 1930’s a famous local named Hannes Schneider developed, documented and taught many of the techniques that are still in use today.  The region is called the “Arlberg” and is a series of alpine villages in and around the main pass between Innsbruck to the east and Switzerland to the west.  The bases of the mountains are around 4500 feet and the highest peak is over 9000’.  The area is simply huge (120 lifts, 5000 feet vertical, infinite options for off piste.  Here is a more detailed overview:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sankt_Anton_am_Arlberg

Traci and I both skied here in the early 90’s and it is fairly similar to Whistler/Blackcomb in international flair and terrain yet different in that it has the real, Tyrolean charm that is hard to imitate.  There is a nearby hotel that was built in 1490.  Every restaurant is lined with wood and has a realistic charm.  Locals speak enough English so that it is easy to be here, yet there is no doubt we’re in the world of Germania. 

We’re renting a 3 bedroom daylight basement of a chalet that is ski-in/out.  It is owned by a lovely British couple who have a 7 year old daughter and an 11 year old son.  They live here from September through June and their kids attend the local school.  We couldn’t have found nicer owners/landlords.  They are incredibly generous and have made our transition into the town as seamless as possible.  Their kids are great and it has been nice for ours to have some time with other kids.   
 

When we arrived on Nov. 30^th there was absolutely no snow and the temperatures weren’t warm enough for consistent snow making.  Last year they had a dismal season so I was guessing that La Nina has an inverse effect here.  Despite the lack of early snow (and the availability of the best skiing of the year before the holiday crowds) it is fabulous to be living in a mountain town.  We were able to focus on some neglected math and writing.  Most importantly, we were able to go hiking up the ski hill.  We forced the kids on about a 2000 vertical foot hike one afternoon.  On the way down we came to a large fixed snow making gun.  This thing was huge, the mother of all snow making guns.  So I asked the kids to pray to it for snow and they (as always) dutifully replied.

 

On December 5^th, the locals celebrated what is known as the Krampalar.  On this evening, St. Nicolas and these devilish looking creatures parade through the town and scare the kids and many parents silly.  The tradition is something along the lines of St. Nicolas goes to the kids that have been nice while the Krampalar visit and whip the naughty ones with sticks.  I can’t imagine this ceremony going over too well in uber politically correct and sensitive Seattle.  It really is just a bunch of local guys who probably spend most of their day in the local pub then put on these amazing costumes and scare the crowds as they parade through the small town.   Oh and as the parade started, it began to snow.  Over the next few days we received about 18” of snow which along with colder weather allowed them to open for skiing as planned on the 8^th.  We’ve been skiing each day since, and the kid’s prayers have been exceptionally effective.  A few days ago we received about 30” in a huge storm.  More snow is forecast before Christmas.  We’ve skied some amazing light powder and the crowds haven’t been too bad.  As much skiing as we’ve done I think the kids have enjoyed more time in the snow around our place, playing for hours each day with the owner’s kids. 

We spent one day skiing at an adjoining area called Lech.  Beautiful little village where the rich and famous and royal of Europe like to hang out over the holidays.  I think Lech makes Aspen look like a shantytown.  We had great snow and sunny weather.  After a fun morning of skiing, we stopped for lunch at a mid-mountain restaurant.  I should have walked away after seeing the furry chairs at the outside tables. The sun was shining and there were the ladies dressed to the 9’s waiting for their husbands to join them from skiing.  There were other skiers and their outfits probably cost more than all of our gear for a family of 5.  I felt like a bad parent for not having my kids dressed in fur-lined Bogner outfits and not having a nanny or two present to dote on their every need.  After being seated for a few minutes, Traci and I came to the realization that our kids, and most of our family are loud, really loud.  The scene went something like this:

Waiter brings menus.  Kids ignore them.  I gasp at the prices but then, as often throughout this trip, I’ll justify thinking we’re only here once.

Traci:  Kids, what do you want to eat?

Halle (really loud):  Do they have PB & J?

Hayden (over-talking Halle, way louder):  Did you see how much air I caught on that jump?  That was HUGE (really loud)!

Traci:  Be quiet please you’re shouting.  We’re in a fancy restaurant.  Even though we’re outside you have to be quiet and respectful.

Sydney (calmly):  I think I’ll have the Goulash Soup.  Hayden and Halle you need to decide what you want to eat.

The waiter arrives to take our order and brings bread...we request a few more minutes.

Brian:  Halle what would you like?  Please don’t kneel in the chair with your ski boots on.

Halle:  Do they have PB & J?

Brian:  No honey just what is on the menu.   How about Spaghetti Bolognaise?

Traci:  Hayden please don’t eat your bread over your fancy fur chair.  Keep it over the table and over your plate.

The waiter arrives to take our order and observes the bedlam.  I like his bow tie….wait…he’s wearing a tie. I take a second look at the prices.

Hayden (really loud):  Did you see how much air I caught on that jump?  That was HUGE (really loud).  I’m going to hike up and take that again?  Order me a pizza please!

Brian:  Great idea.  May I have a beer please?

I catch looks from people at adjoining tables.  Their brief amusement at Hayden’s jump effort is quickly outweighed by their remembering how quiet and peaceful it was before we arrived.  Waiter seems to be providing exceptionally fast service to us as if sending us a message to move it along.  Our food arrives incredibly quickly, as fast if not faster than any McDonalds drive-thru.

Brian (loudly):  Halle please eat your spaghetti over your plate and not over your chair!

Hayden (loudly):  Ah I didn’t hike up far enough and get enough speed.  Can we take that run again?

Traci:  Please be quiet and eat your food so we can ski some more.

Halle (loudly):  Can I go to the bathroom?

After finishing with more chatter, the kids and their ski boots clomp through the inside of the restaurant (even fancier) to the bathrooms while I wait to pay the bill.  Only $130.  I try to mentally calculate how it could have been so much and then I take second note of the carnage that was our table and realize that there is greater than a 50% chance that the white fur chairs took a greater hit from hot chocolate, bolognaise sauce, pizza sauce, soup or a ski boot. I dare not look down to confirm my suspicions.  Rather, chin high I quickly sign and walk as fast as safely possible in my ski boots to put on my skis….confident that when Traci and the kids arrive we can all ski off more quickly than our waiter or any of the other patrons that might give chase.

I’m proud to say that we have 3 great powder skiers.  Barely  60 pounds with her ski equipment on, Halle is nonetheless determined to keep up and at her age has already acquired the insatiable desire for and joy of skiing light powder snow.  Hayden and Sydney just rip and power through everything.  We can barely keep up.  I was hoping that we could have the kids participate in the local racing program but it doesn’t look like that’s going to be possible.  Nonetheless, they’ll get more time on skis this winter than at any other of their young lives so I have to think that their overall skills will continue to improve.  I’ve attached a video which is rather cute.  It’s a strange black and white/sepia scheme as I somehow messed up the colors when first taking video and 5 months and a lot of free time haven’t been adequate for me to fix. 

All for now. We are very much looking forward to having a few friends join us for a few days in January and February. We’ll miss being with family and friends for Christmas but are looking forward to enjoying this winter wonderland. Merry Christmas to all!

 

 

 

The key to a successful marriage.  When your wife is buried with her head downhill in 3' of powder and completely stuck:  1:  Take her picture.  2:  Promise you won't put it on the blog.  3:  Help her turn her skis down hill and get up.

Looking East from our patio



"The Hills Are Alive....."



Praying for snow



A Krumpus right before he tried to get them



Confronting a Krampus



Haus Pinchbeck where we are the basement dwellers (still very good living...no complaints)



Halle laying down some nice tracks



Then climbing a tree in the afternoon for some rest



Sydney showing that jumping off of just about anything is cool



Hayden not to be outdone



Halle with some speed.   A good father marks the jump with his poles.

Waiting for the train to Innsbruck...Not sure when it will arrive



Innsbruck at the top of the local ski jump



Nordic ski jumping



Sydney pausing in the knee deep powder



Halle ripping it up



Hayden goes deep in his Seahawk inspired free-ride outfit



Traci poaching the kids lines...she is supposed to stay back and sweep.