The White Ring

I must admit, I barely have the energy to think this evening - never mind write because of what is known as a "white ring".  Furthermore, I must confess that last sentence was all that I could muster energy wise as it is now 24 hours after the "white ring" and I have now nearly full enough faculties to carry on.

So now you must be wondering what he heck is a "white ring" anyway.

Did she get some sort incurable skin disease?  Does she have a goggle tan line? Is it a new Tolkien movie?

Easily summarized like this,  you are skiing all over the frigging place.  Village to village, I honestly have no clue where we went.  People come from all over the place to tackle this thing.  It is even home too what I am told is the worlds longest ski race.

 (More on the white ring here http://www.derweissering.at/HD/index_en.php). 

It began with our 'house mom' recommending a ski instructor.  Erich. What we found out when we met him is that he has skied with the likes of Hollywood stars including the likes of names like Nicole Kidman and is even a ski pal of Princess Caroline as well as godfather to one of her children.  So this made Claudia and I competitive. I mean if delicate royalty and Hollywood could keep up with Erich, then we could - no?  We dutifully attempted whatever Erich threw our way.  Claudia infinitely more graceful than I, but what I lacked in grace I made up for with enthusiastic whoohoos, and a bit of uncoordinated speed down the hill.  Both Claudia and I tried to cheat on occasion with poor form when Eric had his back turned - but he could literally hear it!

When the ski day finally concluded, we took in a little après ski at Hotel Krone and prepared to warm up for the birthday celebration (it was mine) that lay ahead.  We did well.  Two glasses of glühwien, a sauna, and the birthday celebration ended up with two fatigued females in bed by 22:00. 

But, in the end, we survived the white ring...

Skill Versus Stamina

I love skiing. My form is clumsy, my confidence wavers, but I absolutely love it. Chances are if you hear someone close by on the hill laughing or letting out a “whoohoo” every now and then – it is probably me. I just can’t help it.

Here it was Saturday and some friends invited me to join them for a day of skiing in St. Anton, a popular ski hill in Tirol.

One thing you have to know about skiing in Austria is that the mountains are a web of lifts and runs. When I lived in Montafon, another ski area in Austria some 10 years ago, a day of solo skiing ended with me finishing up in an unfamiliar town. So, when unaccustomed with a hill, I tend to just tag along with those who know what they are doing.

However as one gondola ride led to another, then another, along with a few chair lifts and t-bar for good measure, a sense of increasing panic began to set in. I started to wonder if I had shared my ski skill level with my companions. This anxiety was quickly compounded when one fellow asked “hey Dawn, did you get any heli-skiing in over Christmas?”

Okay, there are a few things that you need to know about the Austrians and Swiss when it pertains to skiing. They were born on skies. Where we enjoyed freezing cold snowshoe treks, these guys were doing timed ski races. But, with the popularity of heli-skiing in Canada, they all figure that a Canadian’s ski level is likely just as good – if not better than theirs.

So at this point I could conclude that my anxiety was well founded. After countless rides up I found myself looking down a mountainside and thinking, “I should have bought a helmet. At least then my head would be protected as I tumbled down the steep slope.”

But alas, I am also competitive. I followed my companions. Perhaps a bit slower, and certainly with much less grace – but I did it. Later on in the day to give me a break they took me on an easier run but I have to admit it was boring in comparison. So back to black we went.

Towards the end of the day I noticed a shift happening. As my confidence rose, my ski partners began to complain of fatigue. I started taking the lead. And frankly I cannot tell you how proud I was to be able to do that. Sometimes in life we experience an unexpected moment of satisfaction – this was certainly one for me. I’m sure my far from perfect form was a source of amusement, but that’s okay, I beat them on endurance. And sometimes, that’s all that matters...