I recently enjoyed watching the Paris Olympics, which brought to mind a sporting event I attended long ago in the Austrian Alps. It is held every August, and I was there as a spectator, of course.
My cousin Evi, who lives near Salzburg, invited me to join her. I took the train from Budapest to Salzburg where she picked me up, and we drove to a mountain above Liezen, the hometown of my grandparents. After stopping in the parking area halfway up, we hiked the rest of the way to the top where the two-story Liezener Hütte, built 100 years ago, perched at the edge of a broad plateau. I have heard it’s possible to hike across the Alps staying only at high mountain huts and this may have been one of them.
A woman sat at an outdoor table registering entrants, and she was introduced to me as a relative of mine. (I have learned that I am related to a good portion of the population of that area.) Folks of all ages were ready to participate from young children to an old fellow in his 80s. Various races and jumping events were featured, including a high jump with a landing cushioned by soft hay. I watched athletes compete in their choice of sports all afternoon, and then at suppertime everyone entered the large hut.
The dining room was ready to serve hungry folks at several big tables. At that time I spoke very little German, and was puzzled when at one point a fellow stepped out of the kitchen, made an announcement, and various people raised their hands. In a little while he returned and served those diners whatever it was that they had ordered. My cousin raised her hand when some dish was announced, then we enjoyed our shared dinner. Jovial chats and visits went on throughout the dining hall that evening until 10 p.m. when everyone rose at once, as if at a signal, and filed upstairs. What’s next, I wondered?
We entered a dormitory type room filled with double beds and double bunks above. The room slept around 50 people. The bathroom had a huge sink with only cold running water, so I made a rudimentary preparation for bed. Back in the bunkroom, everyone was stripping off their clothing and donning pajamas. I was assigned a bottom bunk next to my cousin. Needless to say, it was a long time before I fell asleep serenaded by the music of many snores.
The next morning it was more of the same for breakfast. Few people had their own plates but rather shared with others in their group. People raised their hands when certain dishes were announced, and I shared a plate of eggs and toast with my cousin. Then it was time for awards to be given out before everyone headed back down the mountain to their cars. Before we left, Evi and I made a little excursion up the hill above the plateau where we saw a gorgeous view of the Totes Gebirge Mountains in the part of Austria called Styria.
I learned that many of my relatives were avid hikers and mountaineers. In fact, Evi’s son was a rock climber, had written a book about that sport and had made a trip to Idaho’s City of Rocks to do some climbing here.
Besides learning more about my family, I learned several other things during that memorable sporting weekend. One thing is that I can undress in front of 50 other people as long as they are doing the same thing. A second thing, as explained to me by Evi on our hike, is that in mountain areas if you see a place where the earth dips down and is surrounded by large stones, do not go near it. It could be a dolina, which means the limestone beneath has eroded away and could collapse into a sinkhole. And last but not least, when hiking down hill on unstable surfaces, as in skiing, you should lean forward a little or else you will end up falling on your keester. I learned that the hard way while returning to the car.
Johnson, of Grangeville, worked in three different European countries — Hungary, Czech Republic and Slovenia — in the 1990s and early 2000s. She can be reached at johnsondixie@hotmail.com.
