There's a telling moment in the life of the average British "one-week-a-year" skier - ie me - when the battle between "first lift of the day" and "alarm clock" is finally won by the snooze button. Or it could be when the thought of fitting in just one more run before lunch is blotted out by noticing that the terrace of the restaurant is really quite empty so why not bag a table and get a schnitzel in before the crowds gather?
It's called being stuck in a ski rut and I needed something to steer me away from the slippery descent marked "impending mid-life crisis". And that came in Kitzbühel, home of the notorious Hahnenkamm downhill race, with its notoriously steep slopes - the gradient on the Mausefalle section is 85% - accompanied by 80,000 mad, cow-bell jangling Austrians baying for a home win. But rather than tackle something all downhill, I saw a notice for a challenge going in the opposite direction - a night-time ski-touring expedition lit by the full moon that coincided with my visit.
Because of the Hahnenkamm, people might think Kitzbühel has a tricky reputation, but in reality it's a resort that offers something for everyone and I discovered plenty of easy-cruising blues and reds which suited my ability. The week I was there the town seemed to attract a mix of hard-core skiers and Mittel-Europeans who just wanted a winter break, wandering with fur coats, small dogs and pointy hats to take in the Alpine air.
In the resort centre huge BMWs, Mercedes and Audis with German number plates attested to both the proximity of the Bavarian border and a general air of affluence, although the Louis Vuitton shop on Vorderstadt hardly appeared to be doing a roaring trade. Horse-drawn sleighs were giving rides near the Londoner pub ("tonight's band - the Short and Curlies") which seemed busy enough with Brits apparently managing to ignore the one-to-one euro exchange rate as they ordered trays of Flügel, seemingly innocuous shots of Redbull and cranberry vodka.
On Sunday evening I turned up at the Red Devils' ski school at 5pm for my trip up the mountain, having swapped my regular skis for touring ones with bindings that are hinged at the back to allow you to walk up steep gradients, and "skins", long strips that attach to the bottom of the skis for grip in the snow.
I was nervous. What if everyone else was much fitter than me and I slowed them down? Everyone else turned out to be 34-year-old Gordon Deas from Glasgow, a ski-touring veteran who arrived with shovel and transponder in case we triggered an avalanche, along with a healthy mountain glow and air of general fitness, contrasting sharply with my office-induced, England-in-January pallor.
Our guide was Volker Holzner who chatted about his mountain experiences from Ecuador to Alaska as we caught a taxi for the 10-minute ride to the Bichlalm ski area, where the lift closed three years ago and is now just used for touring. It was not far off pitch black as we skinned up and set off, with plenty of stars out but no sight yet of the promised full moon.
The words "ski touring" suggested to me some element of cross country, but no, it was uphill from the start. I was dripping sweat within 10 minutes, although luckily the darkness prevented the others from seeing just how much I was struggling. Imagine running through a swimming pool filled with treacle with a large brick on each foot.
Slowly, slowly I edged forward and upwards. "On a scale of one to 10, how tired are you feeling?" I panted to Gordon as I contemplated my level of eight or nine. He thought, glugged from his water-reservoir backpack and rested on a ski pole. "One?" We carried on, zigzagging up the slopes, the sound of Anglo-Saxon expletives permeating the frosty night air as I occasionally slipped a few metres before regaining my grip, through woods, past mountain huts and farm buildings, along eerily abandoned pistes.
If all this sounds too arduous to bother with, well, there were certainly moments when I wished I'd trained with a pre-Christmas jog instead of sitting on my sofa with a plate of mince pies. But then a mountain miracle. Peeking out from behind a summit to my right, the full moon appeared and bathed the three of us in a light that magically began to recharge my inner batteries and my left-right-left-right shuffling motion didn't seem quite so tiresome.
Despite this, an hour later when we were given a final option by Volker of "this way is five minutes and a great view of Kitzbühel or this way is half an hour but a great run down" even Gordon's disappointed look couldn't stop me blurting out my preference for the five-minute option.
At the top of the Hochetzkogel (1,738m) we signed a book which hung below a large wooden cross, took a few photos, unskinned and locked our bindings before whooping back down the mountain. Now the effort had certainly all been worthwhile, carving down slopes bathed in a surreal glow and occupied by the grand total of three people, my favourite song to ski to (Billy Idol's "Rebel Yell") rattling round my brain. What had taken us two and a half hours to climb was demolished in just eight short, glorious minutes.
At the bottom we tumbled into the welcoming embrace of Rosi's Sonnbergstub'n for bowls of rich onion soup with thick cheesy dumplings and large glasses of well-earned beer. By 11pm I collapsed into bed and slept more soundly than I had in months, exhilarated, happy, and utterly, utterly, utterly knackered.
• William Hide travelled to Kitzbühel with Inghams (020 8780 4444; www.inghams.co.uk), which offers seven nights' half-board at the four-star Hotel Tiefenbrunner from £905 (based on two sharing), including flights from Gatwick to Salzburg and transfers.
Red Devils' ski school (00 43 5356 63177; www.rote-teufel.at) can organise full-moon ski touring from €70 per person for a group of five, which rises to €250 if just one person, and runs from approximately 5pm to 10pm.
Other spots for skiing by night
Hemsedal, Norway
If it falls below -15c, night skiing in Hemsedal (00 47 32 05 50 30; www.hemsedal.com) is called off - but, if not, expect to find plenty of hardy Norwegians out on the slopes till 9pm on Sundays, Tuesdays, Thursdays and Fridays. The night-time ski pass of 115 Kroner (£12) is free if booked online.
Chamonix, France
Experienced skiers can attempt a descent of the Vallée Blanche from the Aiguille du Midi on nights with a full moon. The price is €278 for one to four skiers with the Compagnie des Guides de Chamonix (00 33 4 50 53 00 88; www.chamonix-guides.com).
Riksgransen, Sweden
Well within the Arctic Circle, Riksgransen (00 46 980 400 80; www.stromma.se/riksgransen) only opens its pistes on 19 February. By the end of May, however, the slopes are open till 12.30am on Tuesdays and Fridays.
La Clusaz, France
Four times each season, the main Crêt du Merle piste, as well as the half pipe, are open till 1am, as are bars and restaurants during full moon parties (00 33 4 50 32 65 00; www.clusaz.com).
Les Arcs, France
Skiing till 7pm every Tuesday from the Combettes chairlift at Arc 1600 and from the Chantellift to Arc 1800, and Tuesdays and Thursdays from the Marmottes lift to Arc 1950 and 2000 (00 33 4 79 07 12 57; www.lesarcs.com).
Corvatsch, Switzerland
The 4.2km piste is open every Friday from 7pm to 2am. There's a fee of 25 Swiss Francs (£15) on top of the ski pass (00 41 81 837 33 88; www.stmoritz.ch).
