Last week this space was devoted to St. Moritz where we skied vast slopes and enjoyed the shops and restaurants in a village dating back to 1658.

In fact we ate in the first building, now housing three distinct restaurants, albeit the same company. We arrived by train, but a van carried us to Germany.

Traveling on snow-covered, winding roads, the trip northwest to the Austrian border took most of two hours. That country’s western reaches thrust like a narrow panhandle between Germany and Switzerland that is only about 40 miles wide where we crossed. Our destination, Garmisch-Partenkirchen lies just beyond the border at the southern end of Bavaria and we arrived just after dark.

Our first stop was at a ski shop where our rentals had been prearranged and they quickly and efficiently set us up. In both St. Moritz and Garmisch I skied on exactly what I ski on here at home, the Volkl P60 GC Racing. I had put down 180 as the desired length and got 183’s first and here 178’s, a negligible difference. I was impressed with the selection of high performance skis and the service.

After checking in at Reindl’s Partenkirchen Hof, we were off to the Dorint Sporthotel for a typical Bavarian dinner and some history of the region. We learned how Hitler had demanded the combining of the two villages for the 1936 Olympics, but today, even though sharing a hyphenated name, each has its own mayor.

The Bavarian history of King Ludwig and Richard Wagner is rich in many ways, but skiers are more focused on more recent events.

Following World War II, U.S. occupation forces used the former Hitler retreat region as a recreation center and winter skiing was a key piece of that endeavor. Many of us have friends who served during the Cold War and came home to talk of skiing in Garmisch. Today, buildings are being turned over to the locals by the U. S. government, but a new hotel is being built by us, and as long as we have troops in Europe, this will be a part of their recreation. In summer they come for hiking and golf.

The main attraction is Germany’s highest peak, the Zugspitze at 2,962 meters or just below 10,000 feet. Closer to the towns is the Alpspitze, a lesser peak but with skiing nearly as high.

Both areas are accessible by train from the village.

The next morning we traveled by bus to the base of Alpspitze where we spent the morning skiing a variety of runs through the trees including the Kandahar DH which was being prepared for a World Cup event a little over a week away. After lunch a few of our group headed higher up for some open snowfield skiing, but with an increasing overcast flattening the light, the rest of us opted for more runs where the trees helped provide definition.

Day 2 found us at the base of the Eibseeseilbahn, a tram which rises up beside the sheer cliffs to the summit of the Zugspitze. Another tram comes up from the Austrian side of this peak crossed by the border. Years ago a passport was necessary to cross from one country to the other, but today skiers come and go at will between the summit buildings. Another tram took us down to the day lodge on the glacier where we would ski. Nine more lifts, chairs and t-bars take skiers to points above while others return skiers who choose to travel downhill from the lodge.

On this day we were treated to fresh powder in falling snow with skiing more by feel than sight. By lunch time we were ready for a break and the massive log dining room at one end of the lodge was the perfect spot to relax. As we were finishing the sun broke through and we hurried out to enjoy some final runs while we could see before catching a train down.

From the lodge a train takes skiers through a tunnel to the tram side of the mountain to a point where we could stay on the train or disembark and ski out. We chose to ski and had a wonderful run down a winding trail to our morning starting point. There were a few spots where our guide had to tell us to build speed or face a walk, but a little skating took care of those and we were soon on our way back to the hotel after a full day on the Zugspitze.

For the final night our hosts had a plan that assured our being able to sleep during our flights. In late afternoon we visited the 1936 Olympic ski jump arena to wonder at the names from the past recorded as champions at events through the years. Then we hiked by torch light through Partnachklamm, a mountain gorge to Forsthaus Graseck and another traditional Bavarian meal.

At 4:30 a.m. our bus departed for Munich and the short flight to Zurich and the flight to Boston.

In six days we had traveled to St. Moritz by rail through mountain passes sometimes spanned by arched stone bridges with numerous tunnels carved into the rock.

We had skied where last year’s World Championships were contested, explored one of the world’s great alpine villages, dined at fine restaurants and moved on to another place in the Alps with a wonderful ski tradition.

How small the region is was brought home by our ride from St. Moritz to Garmisch in less time than it takes to drive from my home in Maine to Killington. We could have easily spent a week in each place and on a summer return may do just that.

These mountains demand a return.

Dave Irons is a freelance writer who lives in Westbrook.