The first thing you notice is the invisible wall. It's as if the fairground in Nauders, where the Father & SonDay pavilions are located, is surrounded by a magnetic field that only allows fathers and their sons to pass through. Inside, on the lawn: mountain bike men and their offspring. Outside, on the street: Mothers waving to them from the fence of a daycare centre, like children who have been handed over for daycare.
The show is due to start in a few minutes. Event boss Holger Meyer is already fiddling with the megaphone when I catch sight of Mouse Bear. Stealthily, as if she's entering forbidden territory, she stalks her way through the waiting daddy and son clusters to me and Tim (11).
"OK, here's something to nibble on if you're hungry. But divide it up!" she says hastily, slips me a bag of fruit gums and stalks back to the road. Mausebärchen is barely out of sight when our shortie turns to me.
"Dad, can I have a sweet?" "Logo!" I reply without a hint of resistance and hold out the bag of sweets to him. At that moment, I realise what the basic idea behind this event is. It sounds paradoxical at first: a family event where mums are not invited. Is that cancel culture? Or diversity? Neither, nor. It's probably much more banal: Father & SonDays is simply a form of celebrated carefreeness.
Tim and I often spend bike park weekends together. I've never given it any philosophical thought. But here, in the middle of this mum-free father-son bubble, I inevitably start thinking. Why is it an event concept to ride enduro trails without mums?
I don't have much time for brooding. Holger is already dividing the guides and participants into groups. So I quickly ask Google on my smartphone: What are the differences between mums and dads? On the Go Feminin website, the first clear statement: Mums have a maternal instinct and handle children more with kid gloves. Fathers, on the other hand, like to see kids as playmates and adventure companions.
Action instead of kid gloves: shred until there's not a metre of depth left
An interview on Spiegel Online with a developmental psychologist who carried out a research project on the subject goes in the same direction. The expert reports that mothers go to great lengths to keep negative emotions away from their offspring, while fathers sometimes throw their children into the air out of exuberance. Action instead of kid gloves. After all, drinking beer and watching football don't seem to be typical father clichés. I don't get round to reading through the interview. Tim nudges me on the hip as a reminder, because "Fabs", our guide, is already waiting.
Our group consists of five father-son units. My nephew Felix (15) is also there. Everyone is eagerly waiting for the descent to the lift. The eagerly awaited item on the programme for the next few hours: shredding until there's not a metre of depth left. Yeah!
One hundred dads and kids are registered. Which means that all the places are sold out. Yet Father & SonDays was only created five years ago on a whim. Ex-downhiller Holger Meyer, who, together with his partner Karen Eller, specialises in family events as well as riding technique camps, chatted to the mountain village's tourism strategist Manuel Baldauf about a possible family format during a weekend in Nauders. Holger was enduro biking in Nauders with his son Lois.
"That's when I came up with the idea of Father & SonDays," says Holger, a mate who, despite his greying lumberjack beard, has the aura of an eternal youth about him. The event was a hit. Everyone was enthusiastic. But there were also nasty emails from mums who felt excluded, says Holger. He can understand the criticism. But that's just the way the concept works.
Dads only: 3 days of quality time with the kids
"Sorry, as a man I can't take part in the Woman Camp either," Holger shrugs. For him, the boys-only motto really has nothing to do with macho thinking, but quite the opposite. It gives mums time for themselves while dads and kids spend three days of quality time together. And in a different way, as a complete family. Holger can appreciate this to some extent, as he and Karen also organise the Family Bike Derby on the Paganella with a classic father-mother-child concept.
"The atmosphere at Father & SonDays is completely different. Much more relaxed. Mums pay more attention to when the child has to go to bed, what to eat and what to wear. There's somehow no 'you must' with fathers. The kids jump over the ramp at the barbecue and if they end up in the dirt, that's just the way it is," laughs Holger. Social pedagogues call this relaxed attitude laissez-faire.
Compromise: the lift is part of the concept
It's just before 11 o'clock. The gondola is up, the fruit jelly bag is empty. The tree line is far below us. Only a few rugged, steep rock faces tower above the small plateau on which we are standing. Nevertheless, Tim makes sure: "We're not going up, are we?" I reassure him: "Don't panic. Just downhill." That darn topic of metres in altitude. I would never voluntarily use a lift myself. But my offspring hates going up.
But I'm okay with the fact that I'm spending three days here in protective clothing and no prospect of sweating in the most marvellous summit touring landscape. A good relationship is always based on a willingness to compromise. The fact that the Father & SonDays are lifted upwards is part of the concept. It defuses one of the biggest stress points and makes it possible to divide the participants into homogeneous small groups.
The descent is called the Zirm Trail and is known in bike jargon as the "marble run" due to its smooth, gentle character. Lots of speed, zero risk of falling. Actually.
We've barely taken off when Tim is lying down. The reason remains a mystery. Nothing has happened. Perplexed, my technically adept offspring knocks the dirt off his trousers. It was obviously nervousness. Riding in a group can put you under pressure. Especially when you don't yet know the others and are worried about being ridiculed as a brakeman. But there is no sign of tension after the first hairpin bend. Dads and kids alike speed through the sea of bends with a soulful attitude. No "fat-egg" behaviour, no profiling slogans. Pleasant.
Lunch break after three departures. Time to get to know each other for the first time. Klemens and Harald, two mates from Lienz, have travelled all the way from far away with their 10 and 11-year-olds and are here once again. They say that their mums aren't really into downhill skiing. The appeal of Father & SonDay is the group dynamic. "The boys try out what they learn from the others," observes Klemens, who is dressed in a partner look with his son Luis.
The tightly timed programme continues. First of all, let off steam on the Schöneben flow trail, which is so twisty that you feel drunk from the constant back and forth. Then back to Nauders, where first a fun programme awaits in the Expo area and then the BBQ party.
The next day, it's back to square one. Lifts, marble run, food, orgiastic flow trail balling, then party again. This time it's a mixture of barbecue and jump contest. If a biking dad could imagine the perfect party, it would be exactly like this one.
What would happen if the mums were here?
Happy fathers in jerseys, exuding the odeur of a great day of mountain biking, sit around the flickering campfire with beer bottles in their hands. The kids jump over a ramp in high spirits, humorously commented on by Holger and his crew. Unagitated but powerful music bubbles out of the speakers. An oasis atmosphere.
Would it be different if the mums were here too? Would they give the men a stern look as soon as they pulled the second beer out of the crate? Would they look at the clock and tell them to leave when they thought it was time for bed? Would they bitch, be annoying, find the music stupid, ruin the evening? I can't imagine that. Mums who bike are rarely fun-free trullas. But it doesn't matter either. The moment is perfect just as it is. And that's all that counts.
Sunday, shortly after 4pm. The three days have flown by. Fattened up with impressions, experiences and metres of depth, the groups of father and son return to the festival site in the centre of Nauders. The arrivals get off their bikes exhausted and satisfied. The invisible wall with the magnetic field still seems to be working. Outside, on the street, the waiting mums stand and wave. We wave back, like children being picked up from daycare after a long, exciting day.
Info Father & SonDays Nauders
The event
The basic idea of Father & SonDay is based on the theory that fathers and sons are more relaxed with each other when they are together on the bike. The festival is also intended to encourage fathers to socialise with each other. The father-child duos ride together with a guide in small groups on mainly easy flow and enduro trails.
Father & SonDays is organised by Die Rasenmäher, the company of Karen Eller and Holger Meyer in cooperation with Nauders. The three-day event takes place at the beginning of August. The ticket for a father with up to three kids costs 325 euros and includes lifts and BBQ parties. The 100 places sell out quickly every year.
The precinct
The mountain village of Nauders at the border triangle of Austria, Switzerland and Italy has always been a hotspot for mountain biking. Thanks to a constantly growing trail network, which is marketed across borders under the name 3-Länder Enduro Trails, the region has become a magnet for enduro bikers. In order to attract families, epic flow trails such as the Zirm Trail on the local mountain and the seven-kilometre-long Schöneben Trail on the Italian side of Lake Reschen have been created in recent years.
The programme
The three days are jam-packed with programme. The centrepiece is biking on the Trails around Nauders. The whole event is rounded off with fun contests, workshops and cosy BBQ parties. Products for children can be marvelled at and tried out in the Expo area. If you want, you can also take a test bike out on the trails.
Fathers only: Why Father & SonDays? - Interview
The Father & SonDays event is explicitly aimed at father-child groups; mums have to stay outside and get three days to themselves. In an interview, organiser Holger Meyer reveals what makes the father-child weekend so special.
BIKE: Do mums and dads really tick differently?
HOLGER MEYER: I think so. The fathers are more relaxed when dealing with the kids, and that's what makes Father & SonDays so special. However, for some fathers it is also the first time that they have spent a whole weekend alone with their junior. Suddenly things come to the fore that the mum would normally do. But that also forges a bond.
How does the Father & SonDay experience differ from normal family events?
It's actually the little things that make the difference. For example, at Father & SonDays, the fathers like to sit around the campfire in the evening and have another beer. At the Family Bike Derby, it's usually mum's turn to be sensible and everyone goes to bed early to be fresh and refreshed the next day. Which also has its appeal. Personally, I like both events.
What is the biggest challenge in organising Father & SonDay?
To get all registrations under one roof. The event is always fully booked quickly. And then, of course, it's exciting to organise the groups correctly. Father and son ride together in the group. One of our guides sets the pace. The level of the kids often doesn't match the riding ability of the fathers. However, we have found that the kids are able to find their place very quickly and the fathers usually ride comfortably behind them.
