Expedition to the Queen of Trentino | The Presanella

The tour planning

The Presanella was put into my head by my friend Cristian, who does glacier observations in Lombardy, and it seemed to me to be just the right tour in search of high alpine adventure. We, Sebastian, a meteorologist and ski tourer, and Chris, a psychologist and ski mountaineer, are old and best friends. After taking a closer look at the conditions, it seemed ambitious and risky in view of the avalanche warning level 3. For tour planning, we mainly used Skitourenguru and also used a few tour reports, including one with an alternative GPX track. The Presanella is much more often climbed in summer as an alpine tour than on skis. With avalanche warning level 3, there were no safe alternatives for us in the area. Even with the most favorable LLB, the tour is rated at 1.15/3 and on the day we set off, this value was 2.85.

The approach we chose starts at 1,300 m in Stavel via the summer path and then runs over an exposed rocky ledge to the Rifugio Denza at 2,300 m, where we would sleep in the bivouac. The starting point indicated by Skitourenguru, on the other hand, is at 1,860 m, but was not yet accessible to us by car. Nevertheless, we would recommend it if at all possible. Skitourenguru indicates three key points for the approach to the hut, one of which we would avoid on the summer trail. We knew that it had snowed quite a bit and that there had been wind. But I am always in favor of trial and error, which includes the greatest alpinistic art of turning back. We stuck to our idea.

Then we continued along the summer path and reached a second rocky ledge. We lost the summer path and tracked through even steeper terrain. We found the way out and were on the high plateau, from where the view of the Presanella and Vermiglia opened up again. Now we had to find the connection to the route, which is an old mule track from the First World War. It was 4 p.m., we were moving slowly and also realized that the battery in my headlamp was flat. Nevertheless, we spurred on through another steep section and finally reached the route, the mule track, which was pleasantly wide but equally snowy. There were still two key sections to overcome: exposed avalanche tracks. However, we considered the stability of the eastern slopes to be very favorable in the late afternoon and decided that a headlamp would suffice. The first key section runs above the rock ledge and consists of two exposed passages - absolute no-fall zones. I tracked the first, about five meters long - easy

When we arrived at the second, a ten-metre-wide gully in which a small avalanche had already occurred, my adrenaline kicked in. I suggested using crampons. Chris looked at the spot and, as an alpinist, suggested a foot approach and ice axes . So he tracked low and I followed him - after all, it was easy and safe. We continued to follow the hare tracks in the snow along the mule track. It was now dark and the starry sky shone gloriously above us. How should I describe the last hour? We stayed quiet. I had attached my cell phone flashlight to my ski pole with a ski strap. We sprinted up until suddenly the hut appeared.

The bivouac was open and there was a great sense of relief. What a mission! Day 1, 9 hours of hut ascent. We were also satisfied because we couldn't find any errors in our decision-making processes, neither in our assessment nor in our reaction. It was as if we were cooking pasta for too long in too small a pot with too weak a stove, but we eventually managed that too. Even before we went to bed, we were delighted to learn that the avalanche warning level had dropped to level 2. For the rest of the tour, there was hardly any risk of avalanches up to Forcella Cercen at 3,000 m if we chose the right route. The Freshfield saddle at 3,370 m seemed to us to be the ideal destination; the summit of the Presanella itself, on the other hand, was only a dream destination.

20/03/2026 - Freshfield saddle

We slept well in soft beds under lots of blankets and had breakfast of hot chocolate and bread. We laboriously climbed into our frozen ski boots, then into our climbing harness and finally into our skis. Once again, we followed the tracks of snow hares. But we continued to track deep, and you only realize how exhausting it is when you do it again. Despite the influence of the wind and according to the LLB, the stability seemed favorable. We reached the slope above the "Vedretta Presanella" glacier with the Presanella, its hanging glacier and the Vermiglia in front of us - a fantastic sight. We crossed on this south-facing slope and the heat stress immediately became extreme due to the reflected radiation. It's unbelievable how heat and cold can alternate so quickly at these altitudes over snow and in clear conditions.

The glacier flows down through two channels, the wider of which would be the ideal ski tour. Given our exposed position - we were alone in this valley and only Totti, Marc and Giorgano knew where we were - we couldn't take any risks. So we took the long route, the summer path, through flat terrain without any avalanche risk. Eventually, I also shied away from a traverse to the main glacier and we walked across the Monte Cercen glacier on a rope. Suddenly we were startled by an eerie hissing sound. Chris thought it was a jet plane, but I think it came from the glacier. We still disagree about this to this day. As we had avoided the traverse, we had to cover 50 m more when we left the Cercen glacier. We took off the rope, skinned down, had some sweets and headed down to the Presanella glacier. There is a ski tour marked in OpenStreetMap on this huge slope, the line of which turned out to be the safest with my interpretation of the terrain.

There was certainly wind influence, but I couldn't imagine an avalanche on this slope, at best of apocalyptic dimensions. Below 2300 meters we saw wet chutes in the gullies, otherwise we did not observe any avalanche activity or danger signs. When we arrived on the glacier, I was convinced that we could do it, and Chris agreed. The snowpack was extremely inhomogeneous. Blown-in and packed snow alternated every ten meters. We ended up using crampons. We overcame the steep section of the glacier, 50 meters of altitude difference in terrain that was around 35 degrees steep, and had the Freshfield ridge in sight.

The mountain air weighed heavily on our shoulders. After seven hours, we reached our destination at around 15:30. By the time we reached the ridge, it was clear that our stamina and sunlight would not be enough to reach the summit. That would have meant a descent by via ferrata, traverse and then a ridge walk, which would have been even more difficult in this winter with little snow. But that didn't dampen our happiness one bit. We ate, rested and got ready for the descent. The descent over the uppermost part of the glacier was not ideal due to the wind, but it wasn't bad either. We then chose the descent over the glacier tongue, which we had avoided on the ascent. We had set ourselves a safe checkpoint there. The snow got better and better and we skied down to the glacier with relish. We skinned up and left the glacier again on our ascent route. The last slope was finally just powder heaven. We reached our bivouac safely and happily.

The descent into the valley the next day would follow a GPX track and overcome the rock ledge below the hut through a gully. This would avoid the exposed traverse of the ascent route. In the evening in front of the hut, I wondered whether we should follow our ascent tracks, but safety was our top priority. Finally: Happy birthday, Sebastian! We celebrated with instant noodle soup "Nongshin feat. MayFay" in melted snow and found many hours of soothing sleep in our beds.

21/03/2026 - Descent into the valley

We had hot chocolate and bread for breakfast again. We left a donation and left the bivouac cleaner than we had found it. We then visited the chapel and commemorated the many people who are immortalized there, some of whom died in accidents on the Presanella. We followed this GPX track ... We traversed for ages until we finally managed to escape this rock bar. We should have skinned up to reach this gully more easily, perhaps even with a nice descent. But we finally reached the entrance. My first impression at the sight of the steep step with blue ice was: "F**k, no way!" However, we saw two small larches in the fall line and gathered at the first one. We would abseil down! We put our harnesses back on and set up a belay. I tied in, Chris lowered me down, I backed up to the next larch, belay, Chris down via tuber, same again until we were in the gully.

Our throats dry from the mineral-poor meltwater in our bottles, we chewed the last Haribo. This was certainly the right thing to do, as a descent on skis would have been fatal. For me, the abseil was almost relaxed, as Chris was in command here as an alpinist and did a clean job. Who would have thought that the most dramatic story would come today, and who would have thought that the most dramatic would follow? There were still 700 meters of descent through dense forest with a counter-climb ahead of us. But now the intensity was about to decrease: through the gully out into good, deep snow ... The plateau was close.

I set off, a little too straighline, right turn - brake turn, pushed in behind, levered out, rolled over - fall and pain in my left knee. The binding had not released. I straightened up with difficulty and freed myself from the snow. I shout up that I'm OK, shake my knees and think that everything might be OK. Chris skis off and also falls, but at least from both skis. Neither fall should have happened today. I continue to say that I'm okay, make a turn, but my knee doesn't hold. Pain and self-abuse. I immediately say that it's going to be difficult to get down now. Meanwhile, the weather is in full swing. The sky is half cloudy, but we are under the cloud cover. Off to the plateau! Maybe I could walk out with skins on. And then? 500 meters up to Stavel on one leg? Through the dense bushes, 50 vertical meters, gritting my teeth.

Arrived on the plateau: 112, now or never. There was no chance that I could get to Stavel or any further with this knee. Chris agreed with me. I called 112 for the first time in my life. You immediately reach the emergency number, but are then transferred to the mountain rescue service in Trento. I start to explain the situation, but suddenly the cell phone network becomes weak and I lose reception. Have they understood where we are? Can the helicopter fly? After all, it's cloudy and light snow is falling. Have they understood where we are? Can the helicopter fly? After all, it's cloudy and light snow is falling. We dial 112 again and call, and despite weak reception, communication is successful and provides clarity: they are coming!

We are told to hold on to everything and form the Y. We put on warm clothes, cigarette, wait, airliner or helicopter? Then clearly, helicopter in front of us, Y, the helicopter flies over us and then an arc and lower towards us. Where would it land? Not at all, it felt like it was hovering directly in front of us forever, with its whirling rotor blades directly above us, and finally flew away again, leaving three rescue workers behind. That was the worst fear of this tour, that this helicopter would chop us up with its rotor. We were prepared for take-off, the procedure was repeated, we climbed into the helicopter and flew off. We have a stopover, the hut warden with the fur hat is there and asks about us - we were certainly the first on the bivouac this year. Chris is driven to the car, I am flown to the nearest hospital in Cles. Emergency room, orthopaedics, X-ray, old orthopaedic doctor with thick glasses, blood taken from the knee, says "crociato!", I say "rotto?", he says "probabile", plaster cast, basta, ciao!

I regularly practise turning back on ski tours and Chris was also always very cautious about our goals. We faced up to the risks and dealt with them conscientiously as a team in each individual case. We go into the mountains in search of freedom and seclusion. We can't and don't want to always just follow the tracks that have already been laid out and rob ourselves of all possibilities at the kitchen table using algorithms. It should be noted that the key points calculated by Skitourenguru were actually the key points and this tool works very well. However, we were able to assess the avalanche situation on site as safe with good reason.

How to deal with the avalanche risk, a number between 0 and 3, is ultimately a mystery to me. I know that the risk increases exponentially as the avalanche warning level rises, but what exactly that means is not clear to me. I'll have to study Skitourenguru and Munter again. Perhaps one of the things I learned on this tour - even if it was a "false positive" in terms of avalanches - is the inadequacy of the LLB. This feeling actually accompanies me throughout the whole winter. I've never been closer to the conditions in any season. After every snowfall on the mountain, I sometimes found the avalanche warning level overestimated or underestimated. We therefore bore all the responsibility ourselves on this tour, not only because we were also on a ski tour that a mountain guide would not do with guests, but also because we were alone in the whole valley. This gave us the responsibility of having to assess all the risks ourselves. We always wanted to minimize all risks and were always prepared to turn back or make an emergency call.

We used all our skills successfully on this ski tour, which still gives me a very satisfying feeling today. My skiing accident can be classified as negligent or unfortunate. You can consider the influence of a heavy backpack and a 1 kg ski touring boot on a freeride ski with a 106 mm center width as unfavorable and mitigating circumstances. Ultimately, however, it was a negligent skiing error and the blame lies with me, which is a good thing. I had suffered a torn cruciate ligament and was no longer able to make a turn. The question is how much safety margin we still had at that point. If the weather had been worse and a rescue by helicopter had not been possible, I don't know how else we would have been rescued. We had bivouac sacks and down, but we had hardly any water left, no gas for cooking and not much to eat. How much worse could it have been? What would it have meant if the helicopter hadn't been able to come? Thanks to the helicopter rescue, we were out quickly and unharmed. After just two and a half hours, I was out of hospital with a splinted knee and we were drinking beer.

Anecdotes

We were in daily contact with Giordano, he became our friend and the secret hero of the story - chopping wood in the valley. He sent us so many nice messages, he was more than the expedition meteorologist I would one day become. If you want to be remote, you can also find it in the Alps.

Communication and teamwork are fundamental on the mountain and were essential for us both for what we achieved and for the rescue.

Snow hare tracks always provide a good direction.

It is not over until it's over, or until you're at the car.

My season is over, but I thought my season was over with this tour anyway.

We also welcome critical comments and thank you for your attention.