Karleskopf, P-tal

Reunion with Marius, who didn't break his neck after all. Chute off Karleskopf ridge, worth trying again every once in a while because it caters to lazy people and it would be so much fun in consistently good snow.



Face above the Notweg, added to project list.




















Taschach Eiswand looking not so great.



Can we please have some more winter?

Rosskogel revisisted

Not quite a year to the day.

Simon's pimp looking version of the things I stare at from the t-bar what, these days, seems like all day, every day. Hey kids see the tracks over there? Looks nice, huh? No, you can't have candy, you are still making pizza all the time. Show me some french fries and we'll see about candy.



The homeboys want the lines on the backside, Simon goes for the fame and glory while Fahmi and I pick the crooked, hidden version that does not lend itself half as well to boasting about from the valley.





A chill on a sunny day and a dead man's tracks.



Little red riding hoods



Simon dropping



Fahmi dropping





Moi-même odd looking by nature and, you guessed it, dropping.



Conclusion: short skis suck, long skis truck; or in the words of Madame J. "I want my skis like I don't want my man: fat."

X marks the spot

'tis the season... Simon kanns nicht lassen und ich genauso wenig.

Because Mr. S. needs to justify the name of his website (Rinnen zejn nit, es muasch a Eis drunta sei!) we decide to ski the Daunkogel "northface".



Getting there is a bit more of an adventure than the actual skiing, I hate my duckbills and love my crampons. The whole mountain is a big Schutthaufen.



Hello, world.



Überschreitung real and proper.



ExXposharr.



Random stranger and what perspective can do for certain 4 turn long lines in the snowlacking yet always pleasant Stubai Alps.



Obligatory track picture:



The day aint over till I say so. Accordingly, we move on to the next pile of rocks and an object of my desire, the X chute.



Exponential growth of skis and poles under the afternoon light.



Uh.. do I really have to?



Get down tonight, do a little dance, make a little love.



Hasta la vista, Stubay Valley.

The Land of Milk and Honey

Where seasons are just a ridge line apart.









Where the climate is temperate and the people beautiful.





Where innocence is deceiving and seduction pure.





Where art comes in many forms and every artist is acknowledged.





Where you go to bed at sunset and sleep is dreamless.

Quiet is the new loud.

Walking on sunshine and feeling melancholic for no particular reason. Sad guitar pop from pale people with big glasses to fit the mood.