Today I dropped my Dad off at the airport after a great visit. It was filled with highs and lows, both literally and figuratively. I’ll expand on the highs, keep the lows brief, and leave everything between for him to tell!

We headed to Garmisch-Partenkirchen for my Dad’s first Alpine ski adventure. First day’s highlight was a trip down the Kandahar! Now, when he watches it on TV he can tell everyone he has skied it himself!!

The next day was even better! The weather was perfect, so we decided to head to Germany’s highest peak, the Zugspitze.

It says, “Treading on the roof area forbidden. Beware! Mortal danger”. Yeah, clearly!

It was such a great day skiing in the bowl of the Zugspitze. No clouds, no wind, shining sun, good legs. One of those days that you doze off a little on the chairlift in the warmth of the sun. God, I love those days!

Now, here comes the low. Thankfully it waited until after our great day to strike. I don’t know if it was the Frankfurter I ate at high altitude,  riding backwards on a cog-wheel train from the highest peak in Germany, or some creepy bug deciding to take residence in my stomach, but within seconds of climbing off the train, everyone still aboard was gifted with a nice show of me disgorging my lunch.

If that wasn’t bad enough, it just got worse. After retch #10 I figured I better start keeping track, because something wasn’t right. Around #15 my Dad urged me to get a doctor because he was clocking me at a consistent 10-minute turn-around time. When I was in high school he used to time my splits in the 500m Freestyle. As an adult, I guess it is heave-intervals! In the middle of the night I woke up to pray to the porcelain gods and really thought I had been successful at not waking him. (Who was I kidding?)  I heard him say, “Well, it’s been three and a half hours since last time. That’s a record!”

The doctor called it a “stomach infection”.  After regurgitation #29 I called it “pure hell”. The following day, after finally mustering enough upchuck-control, we headed for home. When I thanked him for taking care of me and wandering into a foreign town in a foreign country late at night to pick up three prescriptions from the doctor, my Dad’s simple response was, “That’s what Dads are for.” I chocked back a few tears and hoped they wouldn’t trigger my gag reflex.

Back on the mend, we headed for the Swiss Alps. Europe’s highest peak, the Jungfrau, is located just outside Interlaken, Switzerland. We opted to skip the 175Franc (each!) price tag to take the train to Europe’s highest train station and instead enjoyed a view that included the peak.

Dad and Joe trying to figure out which peak was the Jungfrau and which was the Eiger.

It was yet another fantastic day in the mountains!

The Bernese Alps

Brienzersee

My Dad added 4 countries to his log during this visit! In his own words, “ain’t bad for an old man!” Nice work, Dad!