For various good reasons we decided to arrange a family holiday in Austria this year. Since Austria is full of mountains (biking, for the use of) we took our bikes (the boy and I) plus DH tyres, shin pads etc. anticipating a Morzine type environment. This was not discouraged by brochures describing the resort of St. Anton am Arlberg as a mountain biking haven.

On our first morning there we met our neighbour, ex-pat and all round good bloke (without whom etc.) Jonathan Verney, who suggested a warm-up ride with him up to the Rodelalm, a tavern just a couple of hundred metres up the hillside. Being an OK climber in my own eyes, I looked at his old Kona fire mountain and said sure thing. 3 stops and lots of asthmatic wheezing later I had learnt 2 lessons: that metres really are quite a bit bigger than feet when it comes to going up, and that there is much less air at 4,000+ feet above sea level than there is at 100 feet. Sitting with our drinks outside while the boy and I recovered, I started making the usual excuses about being almost 40, at which point Jonathan mentioned he already was. (I later met a Dane, Jens, who thought nothing of a couple of thousand metres of climbing over a days ride and who was also 40 – last time I can use that excuse!)

The view from the Rodelalm covers most of the valley and I was able to ask about the various trails visible on the mountains opposite. Seeing how I had coped, these were described as “steep”, “hard” and a “very long way”. I also asked about chair lifts carrying bikes up, only to receive a blank look. At that point I determined that I would ride to the top of one of the mountains, and said so, provoking a bit of ‘harrumphing’ and hastily suppressed advice.

It’s worth describing the tracks that can be ridden. These are roughly equivalent to fire roads, but often heavily rutted and covered in gravel, pinecones and rocks. Some of the ruts were deep enough to use as berms on the way down! This surface also made out of the saddle climbing impossible, with the rear wheel spinning freely on a hard tail and slipping wastefully of a full susser. There was some single track, but generally this was in the form of traditional paths used by the locals, clinging to the hillside. One wheel out of place and you’d have to control a 300 metre descent on a 60 degree slope. Brett Tippie impersonators step forward now. There is some ridable stuff (and the tourist info centre offers maps showing more) but if you want to go up then the tracks are the only way.

After a couple of days playing ‘family on holiday’ and another ride to the Rodelalm (no stopping this time, but it HURT), I went for one of the ‘easy’ rides to Ferwall lake, just a few kilometres up the valley. According to the map, you have to climb about 190m up from the valley before turning off toward the lake. About 2/3 up I had to have a break, riding in small circles in a layby, to the complete puzzlement of the locals. When the panting subsided and the legs recovered the climb was completed. Heading up toward the lake from the road there are bits of single and double track, as well as the wider stuff. While riding carefully, trying to balance oxygen intake and consumption I heard the approach of another bike. Then she passed me! MCP mode went full on and pursuit commenced. She would get a few metres ahead, then we’d reach a downhill bit and I could catch up again (she completely ignored me, even refusing to catch my eye, probably convinced I was a dirty old man). Whatever, it was the stimulus to work a bit harder, and a few kilometres further on I finally passed her before turning off for another climb and a different route back. With lots of stops (the legs and lungs really had gone by now) I got to about 1600m but just couldn’t complete the climb (I found later, doing the route backward, that it was only about another 50m climbing to the top, but that wasn’t obvious then). So it was back down to the lake, then dragging my weary carcass into St. Anton and the house for a cold beer and lunch.

On the subject of drinks, Austria really is well equipped. I normally took a half litre bottle on the bike. This was filled from the fountain that continuously ran outside the house with spring water (delicious and very cold). When this ran out it was replenished from the streams that run everywhere (until you get very high). Water is safe to drink, as long as the Russians haven’t popped any reactors recently. Other drinks worth mentioning are Radler – a special shandy that appears designed for cyclists (the label even has a pic of a guy on a bike) and Almdudler, which combines the best bits of lemonade and ginger beer. If buying beer in a supermarket then look out for beer marked “Dunkel”. This is a dark type, often with some yeast and a richer smoother flavour. There is some pleasure to be had in sampling the different varieties.

By the start of the second week I had ‘acclimatised’ enough to have a go at the climb described as “a very long way”; the moostalweg (weg means approximately path or track) leading up to Moostal and the tritschalm at about 1700m. The initial stages of the climb are harsh, with a height gain of 300m over about 1.2 km. Starting in the granny ring, it wasn’t long before 1st was engaged. On some of the really steep sections it was amazing how I could ride about 150m forwards before the lungs were going fit to bust and the lactic acid in the muscles became unbearable. Yet all it took was a stop of about 2 minutes, breathing became normal and the legs would come back, ready to go again. I must have stopped 10 times before the track levelled out and normal pedalling was possible. At this height the trees petered out and the mountains drew closer, creating an alpine pasture that just needed Heidi for completion. Streams ran across the track on their way to the main river at the bottom of the valley. On this particular day the weather had been mild in the valley but up here it was quite cold. About a further 100m of elevation was gained over the next couple of k until I reached the Tritschalm.

Having nothing left in the legs at this point I turned round in anticipation of the descent into the valley. 400m to lose – some of it at 1 in 3 or better – is quite a bit, especially on a gravel surface. Speed increases very quickly and takes quite a bit of scrubbing. Some of the turns on the way down are also more than 180 degrees and very tight. I was glad of the velociraptors grip on the way down, and amazed that the front rim was too hot to hold when I got there. About 1hr 20mins up and 15mins coming down. An interesting ratio.

At the beginning I mentioned my decision to reach the top of a mountain. Looking across the valley after dark it was possible to see an illuminated cross on a mountain top – the Sattelkopf at 1985m. According to the tourist maps this was on a ‘difficult’ path, whatever that meant.

I scheduled this one in for the final Thursday (maximum acclimatisation time, plus a day to recover for the journey home). The day before I’d had a good cardio-vascular workout, paddling a raft in white water 😉 Things must have improved a bit because I made it to the top of the Moostalweg in about 40 minutes with only 4 stops. I’d sussed that climbing needed a different technique here. Instead of using main strength to force the bike uphill, I’d hook 1st and pedal gently with a cadence of about 40 to 45. Any muscles not directly required in climbing were relaxed to conserve oxygen, thus instead of pulling hard on the bars, I just leant on them to hold the front wheel down.

At the Tritschalm my track to the Sattelkopf branched off and turned uphill along the side of the Tritschalpe (I’d been climbing the Rendalpe). This was a very rough track covered in mountain rubble, and I hoped that this was what was meant by ‘difficult’. After a couple of km gentle climb the track suddenly stopped with just a rough path leading off straight up the slope through the bushes. 5 minutes of portage later I turned round, unable to continue.

Back on the path, a quick consultation of the map showed a path to the Sattelkopf from the opposite side of the mountain. Thinking grumpy thoughts about the height that had to be lost, back down I went, picking up the Sattelwaldweg and taking the track down toward Ferwall. When I reached the alternative track some 50 minutes later I was a bit dismayed. As well as having a more difficult surface (deeply pitted and stony) it was incredibly steep, rising more than 500m over about 1.3km. There was no more time left for other rides so I had to go for it. Some I rode but a lot I pushed out of sheer determination to get there.

At about 1800m the track disappeared as before with nothing more than a sign pointing up and a bit of flattened grass. With no energy left for portage (and I wasn’t leaving the bike, even up there) I had to go down, defeated.

There will be a return match.

Useful addresses

Accommodation – www.pego.at
Flights Lufthansa
Car hire www.dialaflight.com
General info www.stantonamarlberg.com
www.arlberg.com
www.tiscover.com

Amusing fact
I was born in Austria, with the given name of Anton. Sainthood has yet to be conferred.

All images copyright Chris & Toni Ertl and Simer Telf.