This morning we made the trek to Sannenmöser and wasted no time in heading directly to the mountain. As it had been over a decade since my last downhill skiing experience, I wasn’t quite sure what to expect in terms of my abilities on the slopes. While I skied a great deal as a child / young adult, 10 years is a long time away. And though my three x-country trips gave me confidence that I still had comfort on skis, I still felt like I was entering somewhat uncharted territory.
After getting off the gondola, it was the moment of truth. As local Swiss blew by me at seemingly light speed, I took the plunge and headed downhill. All things considered, I was pretty happy with how things felt. The rust could not be ignored, but I didn’t feel like a complete fish out of water. And within a few runs even felt like fairly comfortable. That said, I was definitely moving at a somewhat cautious pace, focusing more on style (in a relative sense) than speed.
One thing that made my return to downhill skiing easier was the skis. The parabolic skis that are now de rigueur on the slopes are an unbelievable upgrade from the planks that I remember skiing on in the 80s and 90s. While parabolic skis started to become more present towards the end of my prior skiing life, I had definitely never tried them as they hadn’t quite made it to the masses yet. Turning was definitely much easier and catching an edge seemed to be much less of an issue.
We stopped for a late afternoon lunch that could probably be best described as a heart attack on a plate. The picture below shows what I ordered…rosti (basically a hash brown-type potato concoction) with ham, a heavy dose of raclette cheese and a fried egg on top. While I had definitely built up an appetite after a couple of hours on the slopes, this meal was clearly excessive (though I finished it nonetheless).
After lunch it started to snow a little and made for great conditions. Fortunately the snow wasn’t too heavy, so visibility was still okay. On occasion it got a bit icy, though, and the sound of skis turning on ice immediately took me back about 15 years.
Here are a few pictures taken when the sun peeked through again...
After getting off the gondola, it was the moment of truth. As local Swiss blew by me at seemingly light speed, I took the plunge and headed downhill. All things considered, I was pretty happy with how things felt. The rust could not be ignored, but I didn’t feel like a complete fish out of water. And within a few runs even felt like fairly comfortable. That said, I was definitely moving at a somewhat cautious pace, focusing more on style (in a relative sense) than speed.
One thing that made my return to downhill skiing easier was the skis. The parabolic skis that are now de rigueur on the slopes are an unbelievable upgrade from the planks that I remember skiing on in the 80s and 90s. While parabolic skis started to become more present towards the end of my prior skiing life, I had definitely never tried them as they hadn’t quite made it to the masses yet. Turning was definitely much easier and catching an edge seemed to be much less of an issue.
We stopped for a late afternoon lunch that could probably be best described as a heart attack on a plate. The picture below shows what I ordered…rosti (basically a hash brown-type potato concoction) with ham, a heavy dose of raclette cheese and a fried egg on top. While I had definitely built up an appetite after a couple of hours on the slopes, this meal was clearly excessive (though I finished it nonetheless).
After lunch it started to snow a little and made for great conditions. Fortunately the snow wasn’t too heavy, so visibility was still okay. On occasion it got a bit icy, though, and the sound of skis turning on ice immediately took me back about 15 years.Here are a few pictures taken when the sun peeked through again...
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