Hoofin’ It Home In Style

In my blog Party ‘Cause the Cows Came Home, I talked about the traditional Alpine cattle drive as the farmers bring their herds back down from the Alps into the farmlands for the winter months. During this Almabtrieb or Viehscheid the farmers dress the cattle up with fancy headdresses, wreaths, and large cowbells around their necks. They’re then paraded down the main streets of town as they head back to pasture. The farmers themselves are dressed in traditional Bavarian clothing of lederhosen and drndils. I happened to be in Austria this fall as an Alpine cattle drive was going on. Fascinating and scary at the same time.

As onlookers stood on the sides of the street, herds of two-ton animals with ornate evergreen headdresses and huge cowbells came tromping down the street. No barriers. No safety nets. No defense. I stepped out of my hotel and stood there, just my cell phone between me and these mammoth beasts. I have never felt so small as when standing on the sidewalk watching these animals watching me watch them parade through town. The farmers were always in close proximity, wielding sticks to keep the wayward cows in line. Occasionally, a cow or two had a mind of their own and wanted to taste the local greenery or a neighbor’s flowerbeds on their way by much to the chagrin of a home or shop owner looking on. One “farmer” had to be all of nine or ten years old leading a herd with his grownups close by, his cute little legs sticking out under his lederhosen.

There were no road closures, no barricades, no traffic officers to block the roads or move cars and people out of the cows’ path. People in the area pulled onto the street, saw the cattle coming, and just turned around and went the other way. No honking, no debate, no road rage. I feel like this scene would have unfolded very differently in the US. One of the shop owners was even handing out beer to the farmers as they walked by. Each one grabbing a stein, chugging it in its entirety, handing the glass back, and moving on without missing a step. 

On this particular day, although there appeared to be some pre-planning for this event since there were 3-4 herds all being paraded through town on the same day at the same time, I did not encounter any of the traditional accompanying festivities. No beer tent, no market shopping, or rides for the kiddies. The townsfolk of this tiny spa village got a pass for having a small population and forewent the frivolities. The spectacle was certainly not diminished because there wasn’t a craft fair or an inflatable in sight.

I did enjoy the spontaneous parade I found myself a part of that day. It really is a sight to behold seeing the time and energy that must go into making the headdresses, which has to be done in the days just before the parade because the flowers and greenery are so fresh you can smell them over the cows. The thundering of the cattle tromping down the street truly shakes the ground underneath. And din from those enormous cowbells? It is like standing near the belltower of a church with an overzealous bellringer. They are loud and deep and ring across the pastures, down the lane, and echo off of the Alps.

Have you seen one of these cow parades up close and personal? Share your experience here or send me an email!

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PS. The photos are all from my trip! More at tracybaer.com.