Hütten Gaudi Part 3: The Descent

On our final evening at the cabin, the lighting was absolutely magical.  I walked around by myself, appreciating the beauty of the mountains and a moment of solitude. 

Come morning, we awoke to an unpleasant surprise: snow in May.  Immediately, terror seized me as I thought about descending the mountain in slippery, wet snow with my leg still bandaged.  We waited for an hour or so, and the snow stopped.  I made the executive decision of taking the logging roads for most of the descent instead of going through the forest trails.

On one of these logging roads, we came upon this:


Walking down a mountain in the Austrian Alps, we came across a man who made logging look quite easy.

The fog began to clear.

Amy graciously gave me one of her hiking poles on the way down.

Snowmelt in May!

When we finally descended, we spent a few hours at Johannes' family's farm. His grandmother and aunt prepared a delicious feast fit for four hikers. We had schnitzel, potatoes with parsley, and a salad with vinegar dressing.  Afterward, his grandma put a pot of water on the stove and went out into the garden. She came back with a handful of herbs, threw them in the water, and had soup a few minutes later. I thought that that was the coolest thing. :)      

 Silly, Hahn.  Why are you standing next to the bee hive?

 Just your average, run-of-the-mill bus stop, no?

And, a final look up at the mountain we conquered!

Hütten Gaudi Part 2: Adventures

After getting over the initial shock that I got hurt within sight of our destination, I relaxed and started to enjoy life at the Hütte. A little information: in the late spring/early summer in Austria, some farmers drive their cows up into high mountain pastures. This movement of livestock is referred to as transhumance, or Almwirtshaft.  During the summer months, the farmers stay in the cabins and tend to their livestock.  Since farmers only tend to stay in the Hütten during the warmer months, some of the key comforts of home are absent, including running water, a furnace, and (sadly) indoor plumbing.  This particular Hütte is no longer used for Almwirtshaft; it's now used as a weekend retreat after one of Johannes' uncles restored it.

Ben buried some of our perishables in the snow.

The views at the Hütte were absolutely beautiful and unlike anything I've ever seen.  

From the balcony of the cabin, you can see the glacier, another cabin, and the remnants of a lost cabin.

The Grimming.

Here are my winnings from our never-ending game of poker: pocket change, tooth picks, and match sticks.  

On the second day, we rested enough to make the trek to the summit of Kampl.  We signed the book before Johannes and Ben went sledding.  When faced with a snowy hill, you're never too old...   

Hütten Gaudi Part 1: The Ascent

I'm back (!), and I've got a story to tell.  It involves hiking, cows, and three sections of my body that will probably be scarred for life.  Interested?

Before we returned to the US, Ben and I took a weekend trip to Kainisch in the Austrian province of Styria/Steiermark.  The view from the train was absolutely beautiful: placid lakes meeting craggy mountains with charming inns lining the perimeter.  The nun who wisely chose the correct side of the train to sit on obstructed my camera, but I did manage to get one shot.    

via

Google Image Search: For when nuns obstruct your view.

We met our friends, Johannes, Amy, and Leinie in Kainisch for what turned out to be one very memorable Hütten Gaudi.  From what I gather, "Hütten Gaudi" roughly translates to a "cabin jamboree," an apt description of our weekend.  First, a walk through the town.   

Johannes' family has a farm here, primarily dairy and absolutely authentic.  On our walk to the farm, we stopped at a little hut on the side of the road.  Inside was a large metal container connected to this pulley system that led up the mountain.  Johannes explained that farmers send their milk down the mountain using this pulley system, and customers collect the fresh milk from the container.

 Click!

Once inside the farmhouse, we met some of Johannes' family.  The dialect in Styria is heavy, so the three of us were pretty lost when it came to the conversation, some more so than others (me). Hey, I recognized a word or two. Maybe.   

Since the day was hot, I changed from jeans to shorts, an ill-fated decision.

Amy and Leinie led the way. 

On the way up, we passed a few pastures with Johannes' family's cows.  Most were content to glance at us.  You know how we say some words without really taking into account what they actually mean?  It's one of the things that I love about being an English teacher.  Take "breakfast" for example.  Yes, breakfast is the meal we eat in the morning, but if you break it down, breakfast is when one "breaks" her nighttime "fast." Now, cowbells are musical instruments that give rhythm and fevers, but they are also bells that cows wear.  Maybe I haven't spent much time on farms, but this was a realization for me.  Cowbells are especially important in Austria because the cows are allowed to roam freely, and farmers need a way to find any that go astray.  

Our ascent took us through the forest a majority of the time.  Snowmelt higher up caused ice-cold streams to run beside us.         

We stopped to eat lunch near this rock.  In days gone by, this rock served as a halfway point between farmers who were staying up on the Alm (Alpine pasture) during the summer and the townspeople below.  Farmers would hike down and put cheese and butter inside the rock, and some seriously buff townspeople would hike up to retrieve it.  Imagine Ben with cheese and butter in his hands, if you will.   

Shortly afterward, we crossed a logging road, and I saw snow again.

The view started to get really good. 

And then we have this view.  Johannes said that years ago, a major wind storm downed all of these trees. The enormous task of clearing the wreckage would have cost Austria lots of money if it used Austrian workers. Therefore, Ukrainian workers were imported to help clear the land.  We heard of importing Eastern European workers a few times while in Austria.  There was something about the railroad, and then there are hotels and restaurants too.  It makes for some comparisons to the United States and importing labor from Central America.  

Oh, look!  The Hütte is just past this snow bank!  Wouldn't it be fun to be adventurous for once in your life and climb onto the partially melted snow bank?  Yep. 

If you have a blood phobia, don't scroll.  

I've warned you.

As I posed next to a rock poking out of the snow, my entire leg slipped through the snow, and I ended up getting scratched in three places on my leg and arm.

It's been over a month since this little accident, and none of the scratches are completely gone. I could look at them as scars or as great conversation starters.

Guess which one I'll choose.