And they lived happily ever after

Three days of hiking in the mountains with the best possible tour guide: My Favourite Son. I had been excited about the plan for weeks, no, months, had been planning and purchasing and packing and dreaming of rocky mountain faces glowing in the evening sun, and looking forward to telling the story of how we had hiked together after returning home.

As the Favourite Son and I were chatting on one of the less-steep paths (where I actually managed to keep up with him, and wasn’t puffing and panting so hard that conversing was impossible anyawy), he said: „Why are all your stories always so full of bad luck?“. Well, because, if nothing happens, there’s no story to tell. If our hike had gone as planned, there wouldn’t have been much of a story: We would have walked up a mountain, spent the night in a mountain hut, walked down again, met some cows.

There’s three types of stories: Ones where something unexpected or ill-fated or unlucky happens, but it all turns for the best and the story has a happy ending. Like most fairy tales.

Then there’s the stories where something unexpected or ill-fated or unlucky happens, but it all takes a turn for the worse and ends in death and disaster. Like a Greek tragedy.

Or, finally, there’s the non-stories, in which bleakness and eternal gloom paint a depressing picture of the meaninglessness of everything, but this kind of story isn’t usually set in the beautiful scenery of the Austrian Alps. Like a film noir movie. Can you imagine a film noir movie with cowbells ding-donging cheerfully in the air, set against the backdrop of lush green meadows, filled with pretty little flowers in every colour of the rainbow, with birds happily chirping away, bees happily humming, hikers happily treading into cowpiles as they forget for one second that you shouldn’t take your eyes off the path to admire the contrast of the bright-blue sky, the grey of the rocks, the dark green of the fir trees? Neither can I.

So, back to my always-negative stories, here’s one with a ton of luck, nice and helpful people, a proud Mum and her skillful Favourite Son:

Once upon a time, the Favourite Son and his Mother had agreed to hike together in the Karwendel mountains. The Mother would arrive by car at Hinterriß and park her car there. Then, she would take the last bus 14 kilometers further into the valley, all the way to their hotel for the first night, the Naturhotel Die Eng. The Favourite Son would join her at that hotel a bit later, riding his trusty steed (a.k.a. his motorbike) all the way to the hotel deep in the valley. It was way too cold for the time of year and rained relentlessly in the valley. Thick clouds shrouded the mountains and all sounds were muffled.

Just as his Mother had entered the very last bus towards the Eng Hotel, her phone rang: The Favourite Son would not make it to the hotel on that night as he had just knocked a footrest off his motorbike and could no longer ride it to the meeting point! What misfortune. What good luck, however, that he had not even hurt a hair in the mishap!

The Mother had no way of turning back to rescue her son (apart from walking all the way back on this cold, dark, rainy night, which didn’t seem a good option), so she checked into Eng Hotel on her own while the Favourite Son checked into a hotel just a few metres down the road from where his bike had suffered the damage. What luck that there was a hotel so close by and his misfortune had not befallen him on a lonely mountain pass in the middle of nowhere! And the nice people at Eng Hotel even waived the cancellation fee for the Son’s no-show.

The next day, the Mother returned to her car by taking the first bus back to Hinterriß and then made her way to where her son was waiting. By now, the rain had cleared, the clouds had lifted, the sun was out and it was promising to be a beautiful day. The Mother and Son drove to a motorbike garage where they wanted to have the bike repaired, but got sent on to another garage for the repair. There, the Son ordered the spare part he needed to repair his bike, and was promised he would be able to borrow the tools he would need to repair the bike himself. The spare part was supposed to arrive two days later. What luck: That meant that the Mother and Son had missed their first planned day of the hike, but the two-day wait for the spare part was perfectly timed, so that they could proceed with the last two days of their hike as planned!

And, even luckier, the day of hiking they had missed would have been a miserable and dangerous one anyway, in pouring rain, on slippery slopes. The two days that still lay ahead of them would be sunny and bright, the paths dry. How lucky they were! They cheerfully returned all the way back to the Eng Hotel, stopping at Graberl Alm for a most delicious meal on their way, and making good use of the Hotel steam bath and its soft beds so that they could begin the next day well-rested.

The next morning, they climbed up the mountain, past all the beautiful scenery, and arrived, tired and sunburnt, at Falkenhütte in the evening. After taking in the stunning views, they enjoyed another hearty meal before curling up in their bunk bed in the cozy wooden cabin for the night. The next morning, they climbed all the way down again, passing by cows and more stunning scenery, hiking through forests and along the bright blue Rißbach stream, until they arrived back in Hinterriß, where they were to spend their last night.

However. Their car was still parked in Eng. They were tired and even more sunburnt, and needed a pee. But their car was 14 kilometers away, and the next bus that could take them there would be in several hours! They decided to hike all the way rather than wait for so long, but held out their thumbs every time a car passed by in the faint hope that they might not have to walk all the way. The first few cars passed them by, but soon enough, a friendly farmer stopped and gave them a lift almost all the way to where their car was parked! How lucky they were not to have to walk all the way back. And, even luckier, the farmer was able to answer all their questions about cows!

They took their car, grabbed another delicious meal on their way from the lovely people at Graberl-Alm, and checked into their hotel for the night, the Hotel Post in Hinterriß. The next day, after a good night’s rest, they set out to pick up the spare part for the motor bike. The tools were not loaned to the Son as promised, but the Mother and Son luckily found a bike gear shop very nearby where they purchased a small tool set with which the Son skilfully repaired his bike. How proud his Mother was of his good work! What good luck that the mother had been able to take the time to drive the Son to the repair shop and gear shop, and did not have to return to work immediately! What good luck that the sun was shining again and the Son did not have to repair his bike in the pouring rain! How skilful the Son had been to repair the bike himself!

With that, the Mother and Son parted ways again; the Son mounted his bike and rode off into the sunset, while the Mother took her car to the motorway and all the way back to the Best Husband in the World without a single traffic jam. What good luck!

And the Mother and Son lived happily, if not ever after, at least until their next adventure. And hopefully, their good luck travelled with them so the story of their next adventure will be another fairy tale.