Gstaad's ski pleasures are terrific, but wandering around its uniform Swiss chalet architecture reminds one, if unfairly, of the admonition of Harry Limes, the Orson Welles character in "The Third Man," that centuries of Swiss tranquility had produced the cultural high of the cuckoo clock, of which the town feels like a giant version. After all, William F. Buckley hangs out there. Enjoy Gstaad and its environs, including less fancy nearby towns, but also explore the Alps contrast offered by Oberstdorf, Germany, a 5-1/2-hour drive from Gstaad, through pastoral mountain valleys, many of which are remarkably unchanged over the last century or so.

The car is the way to go from Gstaad, unless you don't mind a nine-hour ferry, bus and train trip with seven transfers. Or, you could simply catch Oberstdorf when in Munich, 1-1/2 hours away, which makes the ski area a weekend Mecca for urban denizens. That makes weekdays the best for uncrowded slopes, though even on weekends lifts weren't oppressive by U.S. standards, and once one hit the higher expanses, there was ample room to move.

…the Bernese Oberland Alps were sharply peaked, deep in snow, and crisscrossed with trails…

Oberstdorf, in the Iller Valley, lies at the junction of seven valleys, in one of Bavaria's sunniest regions. In mid-winter, the town's weather was comfortable, with patches of green grass coloring the snow quilt. The architecture is varied, yet projects plenty of old-country charm. Culinary and pub offerings are plentiful and diverse, from walk-down aprés-ski dives for the younger, colored hair and token tattoo crowd alternating energy drinks with schnapps, to more traditional beer and boar establishments.

…at Parwengesattel…the days were sunny and snow conditions ranged from moist corn to a half-foot of fresh powder…

For those who hesitate to place words "German" and "cuisine" side by side, there are at least two restaurants that dispel all prejudice. No vegetarians need apply, but carnivores will delight at the "Jager Stube," with heads of game mounted on walls, a band that's a fusion of om-pah-pah, jazz-riffs, zydeco and other mix-and match influences, (don't sit next to the band if you want to converse), and the option of miniature kegs delivered to one's table. Another, "Die Traube," which also offers excellent food from fish and game to strudel larger than your head, has a quartet of traditional folk instruments, including the spoons, played with gusto by an English maiden who married the owner.

Perhaps as a counter-weight to slapping on calories like dumplings, Oberstdorf has long been a health retreat. In the 1400's the Earls of Montfort and Rothenfels took cures in a nearby sulfur bath. Legendary health gurus pioneered treatments followed for centuries here, including hay and mud packs, mud baths, herbal and water therapies, physiotherapies, massages, saunas, and there's even room for vegetarians. One early healer, Sebastian Kneipp, professed that civilization not only alienates us from nature but, above all, from our very own nature, necessitating listening first to our body and interpreting its signals. He designed his cures with an understanding that many illnesses are complex, with multiple causes.

hearty Alpine fare

Health concerns extend to fresh air, with large areas where car transport restricted or altogether prohibited. Breathing is further enhanced by the town being the world's first municipality to incorporate completely pollutant-free propellants in the commuter traffic system, with buses using electric and hybrid technologies, including the first fuel cell driven bus. Forty percent of electricity comes from the town's hydroelectric power station and Bavaria's largest communal solar plant. The town may be quaint, but it's technologically hip.

But it's the skiing that lured this traveler, eager for an Alps sojourn and my first real downhill skiing in over two decades. I was amazed by advances in ski technology, such as elliptical cut skis, boot designs and new lift designs. There was the thrill of skiing down from the very tops of mountain ridges, with their stunning views of hundreds of mountain peaks. I never started at the top when skiing the Rockies.

Downhill skiers will find 44,000 meters of downhill slopes, 30,000 meters of which are snow-safe; 29 lifts; the longest downhill run in Germany; and the longest mono-cable lift, with panorama cars that seat six. If a cross-country option is desired, there are 85 kilometers of laid courses.

The first morning, hurricane force winds blew my companions and I off of Fellhorn Mountain as gondolas begin swinging like ships hit by the perfect storm. The mountain closed by mid-morning and it looked like a lost day. We reconciled with beer and Enzian and Edelweiss schnapps, the latter supposedly good for digesting French fries and other fare, though I haven't figured out how. Suddenly the sky cleared and the mountain opened. Our guide took us up to Gipfelstaion, the summit station, and along a summit trail to a slope with a deep reservoir of fresh powder from the storm. I was cocky on my cut skis until I found myself mired in a snow version of quicksand, though I felt immensely better watching ace skier Peter Aiken do a dramatic face plant. And again. It was a "flat light" phenomenon, where you lost depth perception on curves and drops in terrain; my excuse, anyway. Peter can use it.

We worked the chair lifts over to Kanzelwand Bergstation and made for the Austrian border. The race for the border, remembering a WWII movie with Jimmy Stewart fleeing the country, was fun, especially since nobody shoots at you. The two nation skiing is well coordinated, with shuttle buses that take skiers back to Oberstdorf. First, though, it is obligatory to enjoy the live band at the slopes end - reggae when we were there - and a drink under tents pitched for skiers winding down and winding up.

Midway up the mountain, one encounters numerous parachutists running down slopes solo or tandem on the same chute until the colorful fabrics fill and they glide over lifts and down toward the Austrian town of Riezlern in the Kleinwalsertal valley. There are also giant whimsical snow sculptures, such as of the Sphinx, and a huge snow bowl created for snowboarding stunt mayhem.

Oberstdorf is well known among European skiers in part because its training facilities have produced many ski jump champions, as well as top-rank ice skaters. Looking at the massive ski jump constructions, which operate through summer, one realizes what a hero Eddy the Eagle was for giving that terror of a sport a whirl. Not I, there's not enough schnapps in the valley.