I used to take everything for granted. The chairlift. The skis under my feet. And that new lifts are built every now and then. After all, it's good to have even more opportunities to ski down the mountain. That's my ten-year-old self. I have to admit, I didn't think much about nature back then. How could I? At the age of ten, you mainly think about when and where you can go skiing again and which friends you can meet up with after school during the week. That's it. That's it. In my opinion, that's all a ten-year-old child should have to worry about. I can't even remember exactly when the point came when I started to question things.
For example, I always thought it was cool that you could see the Pitztal Glacier from the Rettenbach Glacier in Sölden. But did that mean the two had to be connected? This idea of a connection has existed since I was ten years old, for example. So for more than 23 years. From a purely self-centered skier's point of view, the idea had its appeal, but objectively speaking? Total nonsense. Both glacier ski areas were perfectly adequate. I realized that even back then.
What is more important? Skiing fun or collecting kilometers of slopes?
So it went on. Me, on the road with my skis and the ski resorts on the road with excavators and bulldozers for even more fun on the slopes. But was that why I got in the car every weekend, got up at 6 a.m. and squeezed myself into ski boots that were far too tight in sub-zero temperatures? For even more superlatives? For even more kilometers of slopes, connecting gondolas and higher transport capacities? Definitely not! I just wanted to feel the tingling sensation of frozen water crystals on my skin as I skied down a powder slope, or the razor-sharp grip of my edge on a freshly groomed piste. Did I have to have more slopes? No! And so, as time went on, it seemed stranger and stranger to me that ski resorts seemed to be constantly striving for growth. Hardly anyone seemed to be satisfied anymore. It was more and more and bigger and bigger.