Day 99 - Last Runs at Kasberg

It felt strange waking up knowing it was the end of this chapter. Sad, but exciting too. We were up at 7 and straight into our usual rhythm. Coffee. Breakfast. A bit of work for me. Schoolwork for the kids. Except today there was no dragging feet. They smashed through their reading and maths and before we knew it, we were packed and ready by 10. Our earliest start all trip. Naturally, it happened on the last day.

We drove up toward Kasberg with that mix of determination and nostalgia sitting in the car. We somehow scored a “park” in the top carpark. It did involve slightly moving a couple of barricades to squeeze in. Kia wasn’t overly impressed. The kids thought it was hilarious. We tucked the car in neatly and covered our tracks well enough to feel semi-legitimate. Prime position. Worth it.

We didn’t waste a second. Straight up to the top of the second mountain. No easing into it. Just run after run after run. The Austrian and Norwegian families were already there, and it felt fitting that we’d finish the season alongside the people who had shared so many of these days with us.

Emmett was keen to try one of their forest runs. It sounded epic in theory. In reality, it wasn’t ideal for snowboards. Flat sections meant plenty of towing. The Austrians and Norwegians spent a good chunk of the run pulling him along. In hindsight, skis definitely had the advantage in there. Still, that’s part of it. Try it. Figure it out. Learn.

We crisscrossed the mountain until around 2pm before heading back down the first mountain together. By then the legs were burning and the emotions were starting to creep in. Kia and I ducked into the mountain-top restaurant for a quiet drink while the kids lapped the smaller slopes one more time.

They were both getting a bit cranky. Short fuses. Quick tears. But we knew what it was. It wasn’t tiredness. It was sadness. None of us expected to love skiing and snowboarding this much. When we arrived in Austria, it was just something we were going to try. Now it feels like part of us.

We’ve all agreed. A ski trip every year. Non-negotiable.

At 4pm the T-bar closed and the park officially shut for the day. Just like that, it was over. No big ceremony. No dramatic send-off. Just lifts slowing, people drifting toward the carpark, and that quiet understanding that our season had finished.

We drove back to Pension Schindlau in that familiar post-mountain silence. Tired bodies. Full hearts. Dinner, a movie, and an early night.

Two more full days in Austria before we move on. Packing. Sorting. Cleaning. Closing another chapter of this year on the road.

It’s strange how quickly places become part of you.

Scharnstein and the slopes of Kasberg will always be one of ours.