Snowbird
Winter Sport Museum, Mürzzuschlag
This poor gull in Dun Laoghaire harbour looked a little bewildered. No wonder! When I looked closer I could see the reason for his confusion…
I was a little confused myself during our last few days in Ireland when we took a trip up to the Wicklow Mountains. I have never seen snow up there before. The Wicklow Gap was as white as you’d expect Austria to be. And on our return to Austria a few days later, Styria looked as green as you’d expect Ireland to be!
Ireland may have snow at the moment, but when it comes to winter sports, there’s no place like Austria. I have no intention of getting back on the skis again, but my curiosity was piqued when I heard that we were going to visit the Winter Sport Museum in Mürzzuschlag.
I don’t know about you, but when I think of competitive winter sports, Mürzzuschlag isn’t the first placename on the tip of my tongue. In fact, I don’t think it would make it as far as my tongue at all. What a beak breaker! No, the likes of Kitzbühel, Sölden and Schladming are the names that tend to spring to mind. But Mürzzuschlag was apparently where it all began. The first international alpine ski race was held here in 1893, making this little-known Styrian town the centre of competitive alpine skiing at the time.
If you want to learn about the history of skiing, this museum has it all. There must be one of every type of ski ever invented on display here. From what I’ve overheard – and believe me, Austrians talk about skiing a lot – manufacturers seem to come up with new technologies and new models every five minutes. The smartphones of the sports world, if you will. So this is one huge collection.
Before modern skis were invented, there were some ingenious ways of propelling oneself down a snow covered hill. One early version, for example, was simply to attach leather straps to a couple wooden barrel staves. Cheap and cheerful, that’s for sure, but getting down a slope on a pair of these can’t have been a barrel of laughs.
I was flabbergasted by the different types of bindings alone. I mean, how many ways do you think you can attach a boot to a ski? Dozens upon dozens appears to be the answer, and the complexity is mind-blowing. I quite liked this low tech version though: simply nail the boot to the ski!
Apart from the different technologies on display, there are also hundreds of famous skis. Skis on which World Cup races and Olympic gold medals were won or records broken, all autographed by the stars.
I didn’t spot any autograph on these skis, but I’m sure their owner must have been brilliant, hugely successful, and most likely, strikingly handsome into the bargain.
The Austrian contingent with us were in kinks looking at these old skis. ‘Oh, I had a pair just like these!’ ‘Mine were even more primitive than those ones!’ ‘How we didn’t kill ourselves on those yokes back then!’ I gathered that, as kids, they were given skis that were much too big for them so they’d get years of use out of them. A bit like Irish school uniforms. Only a lot more fun.
Her Ladyship stood to one side looking somewhat bewildered while the locals happily reminisced about Blizzard this and Dachstein that. I imagine it was all a bit over her head. I bet the nearest she ever got to anything of that ilk during her childhood in Dublin was owning a pair of roller skates. A wheel in each corner and off she went. Down the scary footpath.
The alpine skis are just the start. Then there are the snow boards, cross-country skis, ski jumping skis, boots, bindings and clothing, ice hockey sticks and masks, ice skates, ski bobs, bob sleighs, luges, ‘ice stocks’ (Eisstöcke – wooden ice stock plates with handles used in Eisstockschießen, a very popular sport in Austria reminiscent of curling). It is quite astounding just how much fun humans can squeeze out of a bit of ice and snow.
I particularly liked the display of lovely old toboggans. They certainly look a lot safer than skis. I even found one that was just perfect for me!
Her Ladyship and I were mesmerised by the videos showing demonstrations of old skiing techniques. The ‘barrel board’ method of course, the Zdarsky technique using a single long pole, and a mad type of hopping style: where the poles are plunged into the slope ahead of the skier and the turn is then executed with a jumping motion. Like pole vaulting on snow. The best of all was the old footage of ski jumping, with jumpers flapping their arms furiously just like fledgling chicks learning how to fly. Precious!
Mountaineering and mountain rescue was also touched on in the museum. I thought that this stretcher was very reminiscent of an Irish currach, a small wooden boat of a similar style and shape to this. Well, I suppose snow is just another form of water, so what works on the sea should work on the cold stuff too.
Her Ladyship loved the old posters advertising winter sport events and equipment, especially this one showing the guy with his skis in the bed with him. I know the Austrians love their skis, but this is probably taking the whole thing a bit too far.
No. Hang on a sec. Skis in the toilet. Now that is taking the whole thing a bit too far!
