Amoser Alm







This is just to show you what real Austrians do when they come to these parts. They Climb Every Mountain. And they do actually use the ski poles. If they are old school, they use wooden walking sticks, and at some destinations we've been to, like the ice caves, you can buy the enameled badges to put on your stick.
Rob was going to settle up the bill and I told him that I needed one more krapfen. I mean, who knows when I might come back this way again? And it is sort of like the $64 tomato, in that the work and money that it takes to get to one of these would be halved if you ate two. "Besides," I told him, "two bits of heaven are better than one bit of heaven." He concurred.
After that, we decided that we had better start down while the rain had let up. Although we did not have our ski poles, we brought the stroller and we meandered down the hills looking at things like this. Beautiful. Then we sat down for a minute under a tree, and as soon as we did, it began to pour again. We waited for five or ten minutes, putting on kids' rain gear, and then decided that we were going to go for it instead of trying to wait out the rain. It didn't let up until we had gotten back home, which was probably an hour later. If The Hills Are Alive, we realized, it is because it has been raining. A lot.
Close to the bottom of the hill, a teeny green truck stopped next to us. The driver rolled down the steamy window without a word and handed me an edelweiss blossom. When I exclaimed over it, he reached down and pulled out two more, along with some berries I'd never seen before. Then he drove off. Edelweiss are hard flowers to find because they really are blossoms of snow and only grow up at the very tops of these mountains (this is the point where I confess that we only go to the easy lower alms, and there are actually hoch alms that are located much higher on the mountains and are only accessible during the summer months). So this is the first time I'd ever seen a live one. We decided the little man in the truck was the Edelweiss fairy. He crystallized the way that we feel about the Amoser alm and all of Dorfgastein: that it is magical and you never know what might happen. You might get an edelweiss. You might taste the most perfect jelly donut of your life. You might find a red and white mushroom. And who knows? Maybe there are gnomes who live underneath it?!
Comments
I've got to get to Dorgastein before my knees give out. Maybe the walking poles would help. Or you could always get a big red Grandma stroller for me.