Every year we would fly to Munich and then drive to the small town of Galtür for our family ski holiday. My parents have been going to the same place for over 30 years. The year 1999 was different though. A huge avalanche had hit Galtür killing 31 people and in the process stopping all travel in and out of the town. We were fortunate enough to be driving en route to Galtür. The avalanche barriers across the road forbade us to travel any further so we stopped in Kappl, where we had our impromptu holiday that year.
The following year the disaster was fresh in our minds, but we were back to our usual tradition. My friend Christian and I had our usual room on the ground floor, from where you could ski all the way down to the lift station. We bedded down for the night and were awoken by the most invasive alarm clock. The windows were flung open and a torrent of snow flew through the opening, the slush piling up around our bed. We both sat bolt upright screaming in shock until the pileup subsided. Had we just survived an avalanche? My parents came rushing in to see what was going on. Looking out of the window we realized a snow blower had cleared the road, throwing all the snow at and through our open window.
Some of the scariest experiences of my life have been the ones that are absolutely harmless. It’s the perception of what’s happening makes seem so real- especially to a 9 year old!