Photo Epic: Hunting Head Space with Fabio Wibmer in Austria

Life isn’t all waterfalls, cowbells and buttercups that’s for sure. But in those rare moments when it actually is, it’s important to stop and look around once in a while, or you could miss it… Ferris Buehler said something very similar long before the days of dropper posts. It’s only the lucky minority who are able to escape the soul-crushing burdens and let’s face it, horrifying mundanities of every day life and replace them with good times on two wheels… we mountain-bikers.


Indeed, there’s nothing that feeds the soul like dramatic skies at altitude and a winding trail, stretching down into the forest, all to the soundtrack of trickling streams and circling ravens. Anyone who rides in Saalbach will happily tell you, if you can decode the thick Pinzgauer Austrian accent.







Ex-BMX pro racer, Tibor Simai is no stranger to the benefits of valley life, having been a Saalbach resort ambassador for many years, but this summer he had a new friend in town, in need of a little enlightenment. Someone more familiar with concrete sidewalks and staircases than rain-soaked ruts and root-nests; none other than trials extraordinaire and YouTube superstar, Fabio Wibmer.






Of course the Osttirol-born wizard on 20inch wheels is more than just a trickster constantly looking for new urban features to use and abuse, having already bagged a national championship in downhill in 2016. However half way into the season, he would be the first to confess his trail-bike was still looking much too clean… those little rubber strings on his Continentals, all too prominent. It was time to find out what goes on up and out of sight above the lift stations and explore freshly acquired back-country of the new ski freeride area. Not before scoping out a few of the best trials spots around town of course.






Climbing above 2000m and the air offers no comfort to burning lungs and limbs, but for views like this it’s worth the struggle every time. Tibor doesn’t need to explain to Fabio they’ll be earning their lunch today. It’s mid summer and the grass is at peak-green, iridescent under the fresh blue sky and interrupted only by rocky outcrops, miniature lakes and meadow flowers.






The route Tibor has picked out isn’t much of a cruise and both riders would do well to keep their eyes from wandering too wide of the ribbon of dirt they hope to stick to. Steep and jagged ridgeline descents are followed by merciless climbs to claw back the height metres as the two skirt around the top of the valley towards some distant waterfalls crashing over the edge of the mountains opposite.






Before long the steepness and exposure combine aggressively and it’s time to get off the bikes, the precision and grip required too great a risk… even for a man who’s happy to teeter-totter across one of the World’s highest damns for fun. The hike-a-bike doesn’t last for long and after a hard-earned chocolate-coated-carbs break at an alpine pool, Tibor and Fabio find themselves lost in the flow, thundering down tunnels in the heather and sweeping turns through the cow pasture. This is trail hunting at it’s best; mountain living at it’s finest… cowpat or not.





As the trail roughens and the rocks start to poke through at the tree-line, the two are finally making headway in their plummet to the valley floor and the sweet release of lunch at the Lindlingalm. The trail seems to disappear at times and the mud spits fiercely as mountain streams divert into the ruts or vice versa. Fabio is taking this wet and wild alien world all well in his stride; there’s clearly no style of riding outside of his grasp.








The two commit to top gear as the singletrack flings them onto several kilometres of high-speed fire road and the classic eye-straining gamble of ‘is there a wire fence or isn’t there’ begins. Unclenching aching fists and awaiting their orders with the irresistible smell of ‘Bratkartoffeln mit Speck’ (fried potatoes with bacon) filling their nostrils, Tibor suggests some evening plans to his new ‘Bergfreund’ (mountain friend). He’s come this far, how about heading a little further into the backcountry and doing an over-nighter at a rustic hunter’s lodge in the back-country.





Crossing a slick old bridge across a fast flowing river and approaching the smoking chimney, Fabio and Tibor knock on the front door just as the last light fades under heavy rain clouds. To their surprise, Tibor’s contact answers the door in traditional hunting gear. An ultra-thick woollen coat, dark green trousers, a rifle hanging round his neck and even a hyper-stereotypical Austrian hat with feather, beading with rain drops. This was Josef and he and his not-so-fearsome dog were just back from a less successful hunt for deer than this pair’s hunt for killer trails.






Josef talks the weary visitors through the cabin set-up in front of a smouldering BBQ; the ultimate welcome sight at this point in the day. Still they’re inquisitive; is this really what he goes out in the wilderness wearing in the modern days of Goretex and Prima-loft? Actually it’s the way a lot of the locals still dress for hunting, keeping age-old culture alive and apparently still keeping the wet and cold out effectively. He talks them through the sustainable methods they’re using in the valley before they dig into the venison. Inside as the meat-sweats start to kick in, a roaring fire sends Tibor quickly into a catatonic dose while Fabio hits the bottle, well aware this may hurt when waking up before dawn. It will be a short-lived rest as they need to be at the top of the Bernkogel lift before sunrise… and guess what? It’s a lift that shuts for summer.







As the sun crowns over the saw-toothed horizon, somehow the guys have rekindled their motivation and are ready to drop in. A fit-full slumber in the attic space of the hunting lodge, interrupted by the scrabbling of the resident dormice family couldn’t wreck their enthusiasm for this one. Plus few could resist the hearty breakfast at the legendary Spielberghaus, waiting many hundreds of metres below. Picking their way down through steep, rocky switchbacks, loosened by the local moto-enduro riders charging in the other direction, it proves one epic descent in the fleeting golden light.





Before long the sun hides behind a heavy cloud bank and they complete the trail in near darkness, accelerating down through muddy mountain meadows and patches of fir trees. The last few hundred metres certainly take some extra mental fortitude to stave off powerful fantasies of eggs and hash-browns as the cows have mashed holes big enough to swallow a bike into the soggy, off-camber pastures.






Well by now Fabio had certainly shown the depth of his talents on this mission, and Tibor had also shown the man some 25 years his junior, there was life in the old dog yet. As trail hunting missions go, this had to be getting close to a monarch or at least a solid 12 pointer. Still exhausted as they were, they had time on their hands and bike park laps that weren’t going to ride themselves. Breaking out the big bikes and donning full-face helmets, they were at it again, now flying off kickers and slamming berms on the freshly updated Pro Line.






And yes it turns out Fabio can flip just about any bike. Arriving down in the village and back to reality all too soon, there was only one thing for it; that mental escape of just one more run.

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