Elmar

Went on pilgrimage to Elmar S.'s barn/family compound. (Yes, S same last name as Gerold; .he and G are second cousins.) Hard to really explain his role in Thomas' life: they met when Thomas was a teenager and Elmar not much older, so it has been a hell of a long time-30 years-and yet, only a few weeks per year. Thomas thought himself the world's greatest skier when he came here, but Elmar, quite simply,  taught him to ski. The Wehlens adore Elmar, because he has kept their sons safe, as do I even though I do not know him. I have given him these goofy looks of awe for years, and I believe he must think I am slightly off.

When they met, Elmar and his brothers had done a few too many back flips off a barn and his back was tweaked. So rather than train for ski racing, he landed the coveted but terrible role of taking the 1A class out six days a week. The difference between 1a and 1b is basically the hiking and the impatient attitude shown toward any slow pokes. Michael Wehlen did a 1b and thought that was too aggressive and he skis nicely as they say around here. My downstairs neighbor in SF has a son, grew up in Tahoe, came and did a 1B and said it was the most miserable experience of his life...And 1a people are even more uptight and competitive. So Elmar has to hike these people up through the snow at altitude carrying skis to remote spots and ski down. But the upside is they get to go out first so the best snow is for them. Every year in Lech people die in avalanches-to my knowledge no one ever did with Elmar's group and he did it for an unheard of 15 years.

I have seen this group only a few times in all these years-they leave early and go far away- but once I saw them on a regular run (piste) where they never go, they were in transit and it was early morning and I swear I almost missed them, they were that fast. it is not like you think: short wedel-ly turns; Short turns are slower, and no fun g forces-instead it is very very few enormous curving turns from top to bottom which means more time flying straight down. And it was this perfect line of 8 people one behind the other, like a ballet. It was spellbinding. We don't have this in the states: really good skiers hire guides, there isn't a ski class for them..so you never see this group at this speed.
Another time I saw them rushing through town, Thomas and Elmar with a rope. A rope? To lower them down somewhere. But I have never been nervous about Thomas skiing with him. He is soooo serious, and this is all he knows: every single bump on every single part of these mountains. He has these really dark eyes that bore into you, and when he shakes your hand, it kind of hurts.
But it seems the thing he really loves is farming...he is a dairy farmer...subsidized by the government that wants farmers around, especially in the alps, so they basically pay him to do it. In the winter he has to do it in addition to the skiing..so he is the fittest person around...farming at 4 30 am, then hiking for 6 hours, then more taking care of the cows.
Anyway, we went over to say hey.
His wife and 2 daughters were away..pity, the girls are bookends to Frederick: ages 7 and 9 so it was Elmar and the girls (the chewing on the cud kind) in the barn. His house is a beautiful not so little Austrian number smack in the middle of paradise. It is in Zug, the town over from Lech...on a river, surrounded by these mountains-they are really close like enormous green body guards to his little family. In the winter it is completely silent except for the river which I have many times confused with a freeway (so sad) and best of all, when there is a full moon on the snow, it looks like heaven-all white and light enough to read by. incredible.
Next door lives another brother (there are three brothers and a sister in exact same order as Brigham clan)..sister married Austrian ski racer and lives another town over, other brothers have been alternatively mayor, head of ski school, head of kids ski school, avalanche dynamite-er and more. But none of them wanted to do this farming. He told Thomas he really couldn't imagine doing anything else. Even though it is so hard, he can't go out to dinner..he has to milk the cows, and can't travel. Not that he wants to...never did. He says the world visits him. (true). So here he stays, manual labor, tiny little clan of people he loves, respect of his entire town; manageable stress, lots of topfenstrudel.
It is such a stark comparison to this crew of people who visited here who were richer, have way more free time, and are 10 times more miserable. I really don't know if it is the altitude, or acceptance or
what-but he should bottle it.

He toured us around, giggled at Frederick, asked him if he could ski yet, told us his daughters were into someone called Hanna Montana, said he makes them hang around the barn so they would know what he did, but does not make them work..just wants them to know it.

We are not the only ones who love him: he has a rather fancy range rover for touring his fields that some German titan of industry gave him, and of course Thomas and I will be sending so much Hanna Montana crap his daughters will be able to open a store.

I am probably attached to him because he lives the kind of life my father would have loved: farm, family all around, large pieces of meat for dinner. All you need really.