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.
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.
