Day 97 - When the Mountain Wins

Another very similar start to the day here in Scharnstein. Up around 7 or 7:30. Coffees on. Breakfast rolling. I jumped on the laptop expecting a few emails but there was nothing urgent waiting, which was a small win.

The Norwegian and Austrian families were heading to the slopes early, keen to make the most of the day. We told the kids they needed to do some schoolwork first.

That did not go down well.

Meltdown city. Pushback. Tears. Arguments. Maddie digging her heels in. Emmett spiralling. It wasn’t even a huge workload. Just reading and a bit of maths. But the resistance was heavy. What should have taken 45 minutes dragged into hours.

While that was unfolding, I was trying to load the car, organise gear, line everything up so we could leave as soon as they finished. But the emotional tone of the morning had already shifted. I could feel my patience thinning. That tight feeling in the chest that says you’re already running low.

By the time we finally got to the slopes at Kasberg it was around 11. Late by our recent standards.

We geared up, rode the gondola, and I went straight down to the second gondola and up to the top of the second mountain. The day itself was actually decent. Warm. Sunny. No fresh snow, but the runs were holding up better than expected.

We cruised for a while as a family. The Norwegians and Austrians were doing their own thing. It felt steady.

Then we decided to try a new run.

On one of the steeper sections I got off balance mid turn. I dug the edge of the board in too hard and twisted my ankle pretty well. It wasn’t catastrophic. I could keep riding. But it rattled me.

Instead of pulling back, we pushed on.

Emmett and I went to try another run while Maddie and Kia rode all the way down to the other side so Maddie could work on her turns. Looking back, that was probably the moment we should have just followed them.

Halfway down with Emmett and the Norwegian mum, Emmett and I clashed. Literally. Boards crossed. It wasn’t great. In my mind it was his fault. In reality it was probably a mix of speed, positioning and my already fried headspace.

But it tipped me.

We got down, rode the T bar back up, and I took a bag down for the Norwegian family while planning to ride the slope all the way to the other mountain. That run should have been cruisy.

Instead I crashed two or three more times.

Nothing dramatic. Just messy. Sloppy. My timing was off. My focus wasn’t there. My ankle was starting to throb. My knee wasn’t loving life either. I should have taken the gondola down.

Eventually I made it back to the other mountain and found everyone. The Norwegians were up having a beer. I couldn’t go up straight away. I just needed a minute alone. Helmet off. Gloves off. Breathing.

When I finally went up, they were already leaving. So I sat there with a beer on my own, looking out over the Austrian Alps, trying to reset.

Austria has been incredible for us. Snow, mountains, community. But days like this remind you that scenery does not fix your internal state.

Kia messaged that it was time to go. I skullled the last of the beer and headed down.

We had to stop at Billa on the way home to grab a few things because we were all heading to the Austrian family’s place for dinner. Honestly, I wasn’t keen. I was sore. Flat. Mentally cooked.

But Kia and I had a good chat when we got back to our accommodation. She could see where I was at. I could see that I was letting the day own me.

We went anyway.

And it turned out to be exactly what I needed.

Simple food. Easy conversation. Kids playing. No pressure. No slopes. No performance. Just sitting around a table with people who get it.

We didn’t stay late. Everyone was tired. Home and in bed by 8:30.

Not the best day.

But an honest one.

Travel isn’t all epic views and perfect powder. When you’re living on top of each other, schooling your kids, working remotely, navigating friendships, injuries and expectations, there are days where your nervous system just says enough.

Today was one of those days for me.

My ankle is sore. My knee is tight. My ego is bruised.

But tomorrow is another chance to show up better.

And that’s probably the real lesson the mountain handed me.