Skiing in Klosters

The trip to Klosters represented the first long-distance experience I had with the Swiss rail system. I had expected the worst, but found that the rumor was true: it was easy to figure out and the trains were ALWAYS on time. I had taken the 7AM train out of Geneva on a weekday with the rest of the suit-and-tie Genevois and by mid-morning I found myself amongst the rest of the overstuffed backpack crowd with wallets in their front pockets.

After Lausanne, the train made short stops in Fribourg and Bern. I switched trains in Zurich and saw the smaller towns of Sargans and Landquardt, before finally taking the regional line (practically) uphill into Schiers, Jenaz, Saas, and Klosters. All of the towns had read the Quaint Village Instruction Manual thoroughly: wooden houses perched on the sides of hills with a 2-animal minimum grazing in front, check. Red tile roofs with smoke billowing out of chimneys, check. Church, check. Obscenely beautiful scenery, check. Equestrians riding their horses to the station to meet friends, check. Massive rock faces during an ascent into the mountains, check.

It was a busy first day. I was greeted at the station by my American friend and his wife who had just broken the land-speed record for a descent down the Klosters mountain. Their bloodied jackets were a testament to the hundreds of ski school children they had left in their wake. Within 45 minutes, I was changed, outfitted with boots and skis, and riding a gondola up to the summit. The first 100 feet was considered a warmup and we proceeded to get into some heavy-duty snow plowage. Although the snow that day wasn't fantastic, skiing in Klosters on a bad day beats skiing in the Poconos any day of the year. We finished the day on the slopes with an après-ski thirst quencher at the Grass-Dröchnie bar and my friend's wife almost failing to yield at a gorge crossing in the rented Peugeot.

The subsequent days were a blur of skiing, drinking, eating, more skiing, and karaoking to the local anthem at bars like the Rössli Bar: K.L.O.S.T.E.R.S.. Day 2 was akin to the mountain scene out of Lord of the Rings: nearly 0 visibility, wind coming at you sideways, cinch-up-your-jacket-drawstrings kind of cold. Think of it as a version of the movie K2, as produced by National Lampoon. The lower elevations provided more visibility and improved our spirits - we developed a PR / Marketing campaign for the Gotschna Bar called the Got Schnaut? kleenex campaign. Interested parties can send their proposals here. All proposals will be considered.

The evenings were idyllic in an Alexander-Calder-paints-Norman-Rockwell way: fireplace chats woven with shots of Koltiska and Swiss wine, 8-12 inch snow accumulation out the back door, dry sauna debates punctuated with plunges into frigid ice showers, tasteless going-straight-to-hell baby jokes, hearty Swiss meals of Rösti and Fleischkäse with touches of Thomy mayonnaise, topped off by falling asleep in warm-as-hell duvets. Traveling west back to Geneva, I looked longingly back towards Klosters, looked down, and realized the toilets in the train dump out onto the track. Well, I guess that's quaint in some strange way.

(Mellow As All Getout) Soundtrack of the Day:

• Emiliana Torrini, Sunny Road, Fisherman's Woman.
• Jack Johnson, Sing-A-Longs & Lullabies.
• Indigo Girls, 1200 Curfews (Live).
• Nick Drake, Pink Moon.
• Norah Jones, Come Away With Me.
• Iron and Wine, Such Great Heights, Garden State Soundtrack.