Skiing Five Alpine Gems

My two children are poised atop a snowy, moonlit mountain in the Austrian Alps. After a full day of skiing, they’re ravenous and they want their dinner--now. Unfortunately, the restaurant lies 900 feet below on the valley floor. The chairlifts are closed and the kids’ skis are put away for the day. So how do they get down there? Why, the fast lane, of course.

But here in this isolated mountain hamlet of Oberlech, the children’s fast lane is a parent’s nightmare: a winding, narrow, snowbanked trail that snakes down the mountain. And their mode of transportation? Puny plastic sleds that resemble upside-down mushrooms.

“Please, Mom,” they whine relentlessly, “everyone’s doing it!” They’re right. Everyone is doing it. Evidence the gaggle of young people gathered at the start of the trail.

“OK . . . “ I say, swallowing hard. “Go ahead, but . . . “ Before I can impart safety instructions, they’re off--and so is my husband! They’re speeding into the starlit Austrian night, hopefully to be seen again. I trudge through the snow and take the only other way down the mountain, the gondola. When I arrive at the bottom seven minutes later, the kids are tapping their feet. “Finally,” they say impatiently.

Here in the Austrian ski resort of Lech (big sister to tiny Oberlech), 12-year-old Alison and her 9-year-old sidekick, Will, outpaced me and my husband, Bill. And it wasn’t just the sledding. Skiing like the wind over vast areas of splendid terrain, they often left us in a trail of powdery white mist.

Often called “the home of winter,” Lech dates back to the 14th century. Located in Austria’s westernmost province of Vorarlberg, snugged up against Switzerland, it tucks into the northwest flank of the Arlberg mountain range of the Alps. Its extensive and challenging ski terrain has produced four Olympic medalists and given birth to the Arlberg method: the low crouch, still upper body and stem turns that are the basis of modern ski instruction. Lech, and four nearby ski villages--Zurs, St. Anton, St. Christoph and Stuben--make up an interconnected ski circuit.

These five winter-white gems are linked not only by a well-maintained road that winds through the Arlberg Pass, but also by a network of 88 ski lifts (compared to 26 at Vail). A single ski pass earns you the right to jump on any and all of them, usually from the end of November to the end of April.

Because of its size, these impressive statistics don’t translate into hordes of ski maniacs stepping on one another’s skis and jostling for a place in line. During our mid-February, high-season visit, lift lines were never longer than five minutes. At times we were granted the privilege of etching the day’s first trail in a glistening carpet of white.

Bill and I had dreamed of taking Alison and Will to Lech. The memories of two trips here in our pre-parenting days had lingered for years. But what about cost? We wanted downhill skiing in wide-open spaces. Wouldn’t we save significantly by staying in the U.S.? Well, no. We ran the numbers and found that a trip to Lech was comparable to, if not a modicum cheaper than, a ski trip to Vail, Colo., for example.

One week’s lodging with breakfast at the Sport Hotel Cresta was $3,000 for the four of us. A comparable arrangement in Vail was the same. Even our rental car--$290 for the week from Zurich--was $10 less than renting a full-size car in Denver. And ski passes? In this department there finally was a discrepancy. Lech won, hands down. A seven-day adult pass, high season, was $200; children under 16 paid $120. Vail’s price was $385; children 12 and under, $259. We booked, and never looked back. (Admittedly, we did pay less for airline tickets to Austria than travelers from the L.A. area would: The fare from our home near Boston to Zurich was under $450 per person.)

We stayed in Oberlech. At 5,600 feet, 900 feet above its sister village of Lech, Oberlech is called the sunroof of the area by locals, who claim it enjoys at least two hours more of the warm stuff each day. It was built in the 1950s, but affects an Old World charm with its chalet-style hotels encased in elaborately carved wood. Enhancing this feel is Oberlech’s car-free status: It’s accessible from Lech only by the Oberlech Bergbahn gondola. Local hotel owners have gone to great lengths to maintain the environment: 15 miles of underground tunnels link the hamlet’s 17 hotels and guest houses, allowing transport of foodstuffs, supplies and even your luggage underfoot and out of sight.

During the day, Oberlech has almost a carnival atmosphere. Oom-pah-pah music from the deck of the Hotel Sonnenberg fills the village green (pardon me . . . village white). Skiers crisscross the large open area, avoiding the hikers, toddlers, baby carriages, sunners in lounge chairs and dogs. But once the sun goes down, Oberlech becomes silent--except for the excited laughter of kids heading down the sled trail.

We stayed at the Sport Hotel Cresta, a three-star (out of a possible five) accommodation set in the main area, and location was everything. After complimentary Fruhstuck (breakfast) of hearty whole-grain breads, cheeses, eggs, yogurt, muesli, hot chocolate and coffee, we marched straight down to the hotel basement. There we stepped into our warmed boots (left overnight on heating elements), opened the outside door, slid into our bindings and whoosh. . . .

The first two days, we stayed close to home in Lech and Oberlech. Our varied abilities dictated a wide range of slopes. The massive snow bowls heaped with moguls challenged the kids and Bill, and a sprinkling of snowboarders. As the sole skier content with a laid-back Sunday drive, I chose the encircling ski routes and arrived at the bottom of the bowls just in time to watch the family descend.

Our third day, we decided to ski partway and take lifts partway to the village of Zurs, one of the world’s most exclusive and expensive ski resorts, about 2 1/2 miles south of Oberlech. High-speed lifts, typical of the region, scooped us up and carried us over eye-popping terrain. By noon we had made our way down to Zurs, just in time for lunch on a sunny hotel deck overlooking the ski slope. Gulaschsuppe, a hearty tomato-based beef and potato stew, and chunky pommes frites (French fries) filled us up.

On our fourth day, we boarded a bus from Lech for a 20-minute ride through the Flexen Pass to the village of St. Cristoph. Here a series of interconnecting lifts and ski runs put us in a position to ski to St. Anton on the eastern side of the Arlberg range. Once there, we shed our skis at the train station and walked the village’s winding streets, full of chalet-style houses and small hotels, before lunching in one of St. Anton’s many restaurants.

Our favorite restaurant in Oberlech was the Hotel Montana. Although its misprinted menu item “puppy seed souffle” gave Will a start, the kids’ menu offered tortellini, spaghetti, chicken nuggets and fries, and apricot-stuffed pancakes. The adults enjoyed more unusual fare of pumpkin soup and pasta leaves with crayfish. Our big splurge of the evening (and every other evening for Bill) was Apfelstrudel, its light, flaky crust encasing sweet-tart apples.

The family-favorite restaurant in Lech was Charly’s, the only place in the area where we dined twice--caving in to the kids’ requests for Charly’s delectable selection of pizzas and pastas.

On our final evening, we journeyed down to Lech (via gondola this time) and walked to the town center to arrange for a horse-drawn sleigh to carry us half an hour away to the tiny hamlet of Zug. Warmed by layers of heavy woolen blankets, we snuggled together as the horses clip-clopped through narrow mountain paths lined with snow-draped trees. Our destination, the Gasthof Auerbahn, is the oldest restaurant in the area, built as a farmhouse in the 1600s. The authentic Austrian atmosphere immediately captivated. We sat tucked into a woodsy booth, feasting on traditional fare of Kase (cheese) fondue, homemade spinach noodles, fresh local trout, onion soup and, of course, Apfelstrudel.

On our sleigh ride back to Lech, small crystals began to float from the sky. Glancing around at the expressions on the now glistening faces of my children and husband, I decided that our family ski vacation had epitomized what the Austrians call Gemutlichkeit, a word with no true equivalent in English. Other than satisfaction . . . of an indescribable nature.

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GUIDEBOOK

Sloping Into Lech

Getting there: Zurich, 125 miles east of Lech, is the closest international airport. From L.A. to Zurich, there’s nonstop service on Swissair; connecting service on Lufthansa, Delta, KLM and American. Lowest round-trip fares begin at $508. We rented a car and drove 3 1/2 hours to Lech via the tiny Principality of Liechtenstein. Bus connections, Zurich to Lech (December through mid-April): about $70 round trip.

Where to stay: A range of accommodations (five-star hotels to guest houses) is available in Lech and Oberlech. Some representative lodgings, including ours:

Sport Hotel Cresta, Oberlech; telephone 011-43-5583- 2328, fax 011-43-5583-26457. High season rates: $125-$165 per person per night including breakfast and dinner.

Hotel Sonnenberg, Oberlech; tel. 011-43-5583-2147, fax 011- 43-5583-214736. Rates: $160-$250 per person with breakfast and dinner.

Hotel Sursilva, Lech; tel. 011-43-5583-2970, fax 011-43- 5583-317622. Rates: $100-$125 with breakfast and dinner.

For lodging information and reservations, contact the Lech tourist office, tel. 011-43-5583- 2161, fax 011-43-5583-3155.

For information: Austrian National Tourist Office, P.O. Box 1142, Times Square, New York, NY 10108-1142; tel. (212) 944- 6880, fax (212) 730-4568, Internet https://www.anto.com.