Alpbach, Austria
Given the traffic chaos of 12 months earlier the annual Team Telford pilgrimage to the Austrian resort of Alpbach was never likely to be anywhere near as stressful. Not that Jane Gould was taking any chances! Leaving on Thursday afternoon, incorporating overnight stops in Bruges & Munich, the Gould led convoy finally arrived at our base sometime on Saturday afternoon. Fresh & relaxed the ever cheerful Mrs Gould had no idea of how complicated the return trip was going to be.
With training groups established after tea on Saturday night the excitement of inclusion into the full race group was tempered by coach Chris Blagdon’s request the they reported at 6.45 the following morning for a pre-breakfast run. The silence in the room was deafening and only broken by the thought that there really might be two quarter to seven’s in a day. Yes, this was going to be another hard week.
At this point it might be worth noting my gratitude to Ben Cooper whose late arrival for pre breakfast training on the first morning led to fifty press ups and fifty tuck jumps, thus ensuring that Jordan didn’t need his semi-conscious old fella to ensure that he was up, washed and ready as the sun fought it’s way over the peaks of the Austrian Alps. Quite the opposite in fact as the little fella jumped up on the first hint of an alarm buzz and was coolly PSP-ing the buffer time he’d built into making certain he wasn’t going to have to face fifty big ones in front of his team mates!
On the mountain the first day was spent re-finding those snow legs as Chris, Richard and Ian Smith (on loan from Alpbach Activ) put their pupils and one or two ambitious parents through their paces. A bit too ambitious for one nameless parent (who shall only be known as Phil Taylor) who’s ski jacket saw a bit too much snow and tree branches for it’s own or wearers good.
However good the training went however, nothing could quite compete with the near military precision and synchronisation the ladies in the group demonstrated when preparing for that post supper night out on the lash. Fortunately none of them returned to their hotel room in the shape of a pumpkin, however, this was more by luck than judgement given the time many of them returned to their far more responsible husbands. One evening they even managed to return in a semi-sober state.
Obviously the low point of the week came in the form of Ben Cooper’s horrible cruciate knee ligament injury. It’s never nice to see a racer’s leg in plaster but given the efforts Ben has made and the potential he has shown, for him to be now facing an eternity of operations and rehab it proves what a cruel mistress this sport can be.
Hero of the Week has to go to Jane ‘Mother Theresa’ Gould for her Hannibal-esque final day alpine trek. With Charlotte’s plans in turmoil following Ben’s season ending crash it was left for the ever dependable mum to undertake the 6 hour trek into Bormio followed by a 12 hour chase back through Europe the same day in search of a Sunday ferry home for work on Monday. She made it, just although she now needs a sunroof fitted into her Beamer in order for that hard earned halo to sit comfortably on her shoulders. Are racers parents mad? You bet they are.
Honourable mentions have to go to Chris Brown, flying solo on that black mogul field makes him the man of the week, Thomas Breese & Charley Fellows – two four year olds who pushed this writer’s knees and feet to the limit of their endurance and capabilities, to Kirsty Thomas for retaining a semblance of swan like grace as she was invited to make her instructor debut (the outside was still but inside you could sense an explosion of excitement), to Pete Shrimpton for managing to keep the occupants in his hire car to single figures (just), to Chris & Richard for putting up with turbo charged kids for a whole week, to Kirran Singh Khalsa for proving that bionic armed boys can ski like demons and Andreas – our friendly hotelier – who put up with our lot for a whole week and managed to smile every morning.
Fall of the week? Well I think I’m home and dry on this one. Not content with a 20 metre head first, on my back half pipe creating slide (© Mr C Brown) that left half the snow made since Christmas in the back of my undies I surpassed myself on the final afternoon crashing into an unsuspecting German chap who decided to enter the piste from the side without looking and only actually realised I was there as my knee buried itself into the top of his calf. Quite why he felt the need to mix his squeals of pain with the odd B word is a bit of a mystery, however nothing quite prepared him for the sight of a big, bad and very unhappy Englander gazumping his selection of Anglo Saxon adjectives. The fact that the ever reliable Mrs Breese got the whole thing on video then whisked it around every table at dinner and has probably already spent her £250 You’ve Been Framed payout did little to play down the event.
Thanks must go to Richard Breese for organising another magnificent week, to Chris Blagdon for coming over and sharing the coaching duties, to Ian Smith for again proving he is the undisputed greatest instructor of kids on the planet today, to Alpbach Aktiv for the continued support, the Andreas and everyone at Haus Andreas for their magnificent hospitality.
Here’s to next year.
