High Altitude Tree Hunting — Christmas in the Alps
By Rick Steves
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| The Steves family hunts down their Swiss tree. |
Swiss children anticipate eagerly the day their dad takes them into the forest to find and bring home the perfect Christmas tree. Last Christmas (to give our public television crew something really vivid to film as we produced our Rick Steves' European Christmas special) Olle, Maria and their children invited my family to go along for the ride…the sleigh ride.
We gathered our gear — snow shoes, sleds, torches, bags of local wine, bread and cheese for fondu and a snow bike and set out — riding the lift high above the village of Gimmelwald. The torches were a fun reminder that today, for this traditional mission, there was absolutely no rush. We'd be here until dark: playing in the snow, hunting and capturing just the right tree, and enjoying a FIGUGLE time in the hut of a friend over fondu. (FIGUGLE, which stands for the German phrase "Fondue is good and gives a good mood," is used on invitations to promise a cozy and convivial time.)
The snow bike was of interest to me. A fragile-seeming piece of woodwork, I was assured it was plenty strong for a clumsy 200 pounder like me. The front ski was connected to the handle bar and turned as a bike wheel would. From the top of the lift off we went: the children shrieking with glee from their old time wooden sleds, me shushing gingerly at first and then ever-more-confident on my snow bike, and Olle with the big sleigh which would soon be laden with the perfect tree.
Arriving at the rustic one-room hut, we stepped into a time-warp 1950s world. Stoking the stove, we pondered the photos of the village's seniors from days when they were young and full of mischief. I imagined cow herds with their Heidis, enjoying the peace and serenity here before the age of ski resorts.
While some stayed to prepare the meal, those of us in the tree expedition lashed on our snowshoes and set out — dragging the empty sleigh. After a long walk, we began the tree search. Olle would give the trunk under consideration a good shake. As the snow cascaded off the children would debate its merits. Even the smallest children seemed to know that a key was to have well-spaced branches to safely accommodate the lit candles that would bring the magic to the tree on Christmas Eve.
Finally all agreed that we had found just the right tree. It was cut, lashed to the sleigh, and we trudged triumphantly back to the cabin for our hot and tasty reward. The windows were sweating, the fondu was ready, and we gathered around the table for a meal that exemplified good living in the Alps.
With bellies full and just a bit of a holiday buzz from the sprightly white fendant — my favorite Swiss wine — we lit our torches, snugged the tree to the big sleigh, and mounted the snow vehicle of our choice. As the moon rose over the Jungfrau, we zipped down the mountain and back into Gimmelwald.