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PowderPeople | Nadine Wallner

If you practise several sports, you can keep up with the seasons and nature much better. You don't just bemoan one season.

by Claus Lochbihler 02/04/2025
An interview with Nadine Wallner (born 1989) about her sports away from skiing, her preference for cheese dumplings and the basics of sluff management. And how she once discovered climbing for herself during rehab...

Claus Lochbihler: Nadine, when I read your profile, I realised that you're pretty light for a great skier: 56 kilos.

Nadine Wallner:  I always try to build up a bit more weight in winter. Because then you can get the skis around the corner even better. And you can ski a bit more dynamically and lively, even when the snow is heavier. It's not like you're always skiing in Japanese powder, where the snow just flies away from you. Laugh. But with all the exercise and my high basal metabolic rate, it doesn't really work with the weight gain. If you have really long ski touring and freeriding days in a row like I do and only have breakfast and only eat properly in the evening, that's simply not enough to gain weight.

You can't eat that many cheese dumplings.  

No. Laughter.

This is - if I've read correctly - your favourite dish.

That's right. I'm an omnivore, but cheese dumplings are my favourite.

If you get an international visitor - will they be served Kaspressknödel?

With pleasure. Or a schnitzel - depending on whether you're veggie or not.

For climbing, 56 kilos is of course super....

There are hardly any sports that are as contradictory as skiing and climbing. A top climber doesn't really want to ski - you get thighs that you can't really use for climbing. Of course, downhill skiers are at the extreme of this - they need mass that they can set in motion.

When you were still riding in the Freeride World Tour, were you one of the lightest riders in the field?

It was quite a mixed bag. There were female riders who had significantly more muscle than me. But also those who had a similarly light physique. But of course I've often been told that I would have been a better climber if I hadn't skied that much.

“I always just wanted to make it to the next hold and didn't look at how far away the next one is.”

But you're also a climber - and not a bad one.

That's true. But of course I'd be much better if I didn't have a six-month break from climbing every year because I'm only skiing. Then I would certainly be able to do even more in climbing. From a purely physical point of view, I'm actually well equipped for climbing. Not only because I'm quite light, but also because I have very long arms in relation to my height.

You have a good wingspan.

Exactly. My Ape Index is plus 12 - so my arm span is 12 cm longer than my height. That's a lot. I'm short, but I have quite long arms.

You only started climbing as a kind of rehabilitation program after your serious freeriding accident in Alaska in 2014. How did that come about? And why didn't you start earlier - your father is a mountain and ski guide after all.

Because skiing was always THE main activity in our family. That's right, my dad is a mountain and ski guide and we always went to the mountains a lot. But it was always more mountaineering than climbing: in other words, exercise in easy scrambling terrain. But we never climbed a wall. We never went sport climbing either. Or only very rarely. Simply because we skied so much. Or went ski touring or ski mountaineering.

But then you discovered climbing after your serious injury.

It was actually the case that they had inserted an intramedullary nail that was too long during the operation in Alaska. This shifted the axis of my leg and the intramedullary nail protruded into the ankle joint and blocked something there. As a result, I could no longer lift my heel  - it just didn't work at all. After six months of rehab and training, the pain got worse and worse. It started in the ankle joint, then moved to the knee and on up to the hip. Simply because the leg axis was so misaligned and the load was wrong. I then had another operation because the intramedullary nail had to be replaced with a shorter one. After that, I went back to rehab: almost to zero, because all the muscles I once had had virtually disappeared in six months of immobility. And that's when climbing came into play. It was a very cool way to build up strength in my legs again with hand support. It was also a lot of fun - much more than standing on the stairs or on the machine and doing my sets. Climbing as rehab was also a distraction from the fact that I still couldn't ski at the time. I tried a few times, but I was in so much pain that I didn't just take the lift up - I also took the lift back down.

Were there times when you were afraid that you might never be able to ski again?

I have to be honest and say that despite the pain and the long recovery time, I never had this fear. It was more like climbing: I always just wanted to make it to the next hold and didn't look at how far away the next one is.

So you were thinking in small steps.

Just like when you imagine the next difficult move. Climbing really helped me a lot during my recovery. It kept me busy and challenged me and I learnt a lot for myself mentally. Climbing teaches you to overcome yourself, to approach problems tactically and to train very methodically. You also generally have more time to think and make decisions when climbing than when skiing.

What do you like most about climbing?

For me, the coolest thing is still climbing onsight or flash - when you manage to call up your performance at certain points. I also project from time to time, but I still think it's cooler or nicer when I manage routes onsight or flash, because I have to unpack and call on my entire skill set.

Is that also closer to how you experience skiing?

Yes, because you only ever have one shot at freeriding. Especially when I'm travelling with a film crew. I only ever have one attempt per line - onsight, so to speak.

You then made incredible progress in climbing in a short amount of time. You even trained with Babsi Zangerl one winter....

That's right. It was really cool with her. Although I certainly benefited more from it than Babsi, for whom skiing didn't quite work out because it gave her back problems. And in hindsight, I have to say that I probably made too much progress in difficult climbing too quickly. And I also had to pay the price for this explosive vertical take-off into climbing.

You have had to deal with injuries.

Especially with finger injuries. All the better that I remained injury-free last summer - although I didn't climb any less difficult, and even on very small holds.

What have you changed?

My consistency.

When climbing?

No, with the balancing exercises. It's always a bit boring, especially for the fingers, but it simply helps a lot. The more you do the exercises, the more regularly you do them. It's about keeping the structures under load - at least that's what I call it. If I regularly keep the ligaments, muscles and capsules under load, they become stronger. And less prone to injury.  

What are you working with?

With Lattice Training, this large climbing community. I've managed to stay injury-free with their training. You just have to keep at it regularly. One of the trainers there is a friend of mine. I asked her for advice on how to stay injury-free when climbing. We then drew up a training plan together. And since I've been training diligently according to it, I've been doing really well - without any finger injuries in the past year. I hope it stays that way.

So you don't go to the gym in winter?

Hardly. I hardly have time for anything else because I'm skiing. But I just keep doing the exercises that Lattice showed me. It only takes half an hour a day. Or even less. When you start climbing again, you don't have the problem I used to have: too much strength for my fingers and structures. But if I keep them under load in winter, the shock when I start climbing again is less - then the fingers, ligaments and tendons are prepared and there are none of the micro-injuries that caused me so much trouble.

Do you think that skiing benefits you in any way from climbing? You said earlier that they are two extremely different sports. Is there perhaps an overlap? Has your skiing perhaps become even better now that you're also climbing?

I actually don't think the two sports complement each other particularly well. On the other hand, climbing is of course a brutally efficient workout for the upper body. Climbing gives you excellent upper body stability, which of course also benefits you when skiing. I would certainly be a better climber if I didn't have such a long skiing season. But I still haven't regretted a single turn. Laughs.  Although the start to the last climbing season was tough.

Because your ski season was so long?

Exactly. I was on skis in 2024 until 26th of June. I've never really been climbing as little as I did last spring since I started climbing. I usually manage to go to the climbing gym at least once in a while in winter until January. After that comes the peak season months for skiing, when I usually don't go climbing at all. Also because I'm travelling so much during that time. Often in places where there are no climbing gyms anyway. Last season, my ski season lasted two months longer than usual - simply because the conditions were so good. The rocks for climbing are always there and the way the conditions were in spring 2024, especially in the Western Alps, you just have to go for it as a skier. It happens once every 10 years that there is so much snow. So my priorities are pretty clear: skiing!

“I had to build up trust so that I wouldn't immediately panic if something white moved behind my back. “

You had this accident in Alaska in 2014 with an open tibia and fibula fracture. Has your skiing, your attitude towards it, changed in any way as a result of this experience? Have you become more cautious? Also because the recovery took so long.

It took a good two and a half years until everything was physically functioning again after the accident in 2014.

So you've lost three winters as a result.

Exactly. I was skiing again by the third winter, but I was still a long way from being one hundred per cent okay. And when I finally realised that I was almost physically recovered, I was still struggling with the mental image of the accident. But climbing helped me with that too - because it's such a good school for overcoming and focussing.

So that helped you to overcome your mental inhibitions after your serious accident?

Exactly.

How did this inhibition, this negative mental cinema feel for you after the accident?

My accident was caused by sluff - i.e. snow sliding on the surface and coming loose due to the steepness. Sluff can be a lot, it can be fast, it can also be a little - depending on which line, which slope or which spine you're skiing - and how you're skiing it. If you don't manage the sluff properly, it can pull you off your skis - like it did to me in Alaska.  

What was your mistake?

I skiied a bit too dynamically - and into my own sluff. I underestimated it and obviously thought I could get through it. When I was finally able to ski again after the accident, I had to rebuild my confidence in myself. Confidence that I could embed my peripheral vision - how should I put it? - into my intuitive decision-making. And also make good decisions in the process. I had to build up trust so that I wouldn't immediately panic if something white moved behind my back. It's about trusting your intuition when making decisions. When skiing in open terrain, you have to make a lot of decisions very, very quickly. That's why you plan in advance what might happen in a line and how you might react. So that if a dangerous situation arises, you can intuitively build on what you have planned.

Your binding didn't release back then.

However, with this type of fall, it wasn't the binding's fault: I was riding a spine, a rib, and then it threw me off the spine with a highsider, i.e. a backwards turn, and then I landed in the side gully. A stupid lever hit my leg in the wrong direction. That's why it broke almost immediately - in the second or third rollover. And because the leg was already broken, but the ski was still attached and the broken leg didn't offer any resistance, the binding didn't come undone. The binding wasn't even set very hard. The broken leg prevented it from releasing.

“I believe that making quick, intuitively correct decisions requires a wealth of experience.”

On the third descent in your current film "Backyard" - is that actually an avalanche or sluff?

A combination. Up there in the Bettlerkar, we triggered a snow cushion caused by the wind - it was too small to bury anyone. But in the couloir, such a slide naturally becomes faster and faster and accumulates in a confined space. Then there were the rocks at the edge of the couloir and the change of direction in the couloir - and the fact that the snow could have swept Yannick Glatthard towards the rocks. What's more, Yannick didn't realise the problem that was chasing him at his back until it was very late. That's why he only swerved to the left at the last moment. This is another example of the very intuitive, lightning-fast decisions that you often have to make when skiing. There's no time to think about it too much. Fortunately, it turned out well.

How can sluff management be planned in advance?

You always think about how you can move away from the sluff when descending. However, some lines don't allow this. You should then try out a test run to see whether the sluff is fast or slow. Whether you can outrun it or whether there is a risk of it catching up with you. And then, of course, you have to pay particular attention to the snow when skiing and especially when entering the line - that's the shortest-term, most up-to-date information you can get. Of course, it's all a question of experience. I believe that making quick, intuitively correct decisions requires a wealth of experience. It's often a matter of fractions of a second in which you have to make a decision. And on which sometimes depends whether a situation turns out well or not.

Where have you experienced the most blatant sluff so far? In Alaska?

Definitely. Firstly, because it's often so cold there. Secondly, because you ski the gnarliest spines there, because the storms from the sea cause the snow to pick almost vertically. The snow just trickles away from you as you enter - it almost feels like freefall in the steep terrain. If you then also get caught by your sluff, it usually means a crash.

How does riding in a contest differ from freeriding in the past?

In a contest, the focus is of course on performance: what I do as a skier and whether I judge my skills correctly. In a competition, I can and must concentrate completely on my skiing performance because I don't have to worry about things like avalanches - as a rule anyway. At competitions, the slope is secured and blown up, there's a whole mountain rescue team there, so I don't really have to worry about anything other than my skiing performance. It's completely different in open terrain and also when filming in open terrain: there are so many more decisions to be made. Even with a guide. I've always been a fan of thinking for yourself, even if you have a guide with you. That's almost always the case on big productions and in Alaska you can hardly get anywhere without a guide and supervisor anyway. Nevertheless, as an athlete you should have the necessary knowledge to be able to make your own decisions on film productions. And also be able to scrutinise what the guide is saying and whether it matches what you perceive yourself. That also makes skiing more possible because the guides are often very careful - that's their job, after all. But if you work with them and get involved and they realise that you really know what you're doing, then suddenly completely different faces and lines are possible.

Did you have to learn to deal with being filmed and its psychological consequences? It could be that you risk more just because you're being filmed.

That's clearly the case. You want a certain shot and anyone who claims that they don't risk more when filming than without a camera, I don't believe them. It's a bit like a competition, where you have more pressure. When I'm filming, I have to put myself in a different state of concentration - just like in a competition - than when I'm skiing down somewhere just for fun. I can stop at any time. In a contest or when filming, you want to ride the line the way you imagined it. In one go. You also want to express yourself with your line. If it's also filmed, it means that I can show other people how I ski and who I am as a skier.

It is also an expression of creativity.

With certain agreements, of course. When the camera is rolling, it's my job to ride the line as well and beautifully as possible - but of course in the way you've discussed with the photo or film team. It's all about the agreed shots, the light and the shadow. For the whole team, it's about working exactly to the point.  

“It's also cool when you start to understand the snowpack.”

Did you have a guide for "Backyard" or was that you?

I had the main responsibility. Which was a bit funny because I was the only woman involved in the film. I had invested a lot of time in the planning with the director Tim Marcour. Once the film aspects had been clarified, I looked around for ski partners. They had to be partners who would be a good backup for me if the worst came to the worst. The aim was to set off on the first beautiful day after a good snowfall - so good partners are very important.

What were the avalanche and snow conditions like on the day of filming?  It is partly addressed in the film, but what else did you include in your planning that doesn't appear in the film?

We actually hardly skied any bad turns that day - so the snow was mostly great. There was a certain amount of wind influence - so you had to decide certain things very much on the spot.

What was the avalanche warning level that day?

I don't even remember. Laugh.  But that's only because I'm out and about on the Arlberg practically every day - what I experience and observe from day to day in the terrain is more accurate and more information-saturated than the avalanche report. Of course, it's different when I'm travelling in an area where I don't move around as much as I do at home. Or if something changes in the snowpack structure - for example, if old snow layers are activated. Or if the situation changes significantly due to new weather events. But even then, reading the avalanche report is more of a careful cross-check with what I observe out in the terrain every day.

So did you have these five lines that you ride in the film in mind the whole winter?

Exactly. I was at home all winter. So I had a very good overview of what happened on the Arlberg throughout the winter - and the closer the time window for our film came, the more closely I followed it. It's also cool when you start to understand the snowpack. When, in addition to the official avalanche situation report, you create your own, much smaller-scale condition report. And then you can make your own decisions beyond the reduction method and stop-or-go. However, this absolutely requires that you move around in the terrain almost every day. In all exposures and altitudes. And that you also dig snow profiles from time to time and look into the snow pack.

The topic of equipment: You're out and about in the film with freeride equipment, which is pretty tough with 3000 metres of ascent. How do you usually travel with your equipment? Always like this or sometimes with lighter touring equipment?

As a rule, I don't ski with a centre width of less than 100 mm. Unless I'm going on a piste ski tour or it's just for the ascent because I'm going ice climbing on skis, for example. I usually ski the Völkl BMT 109 - thanks to the carbon construction, it's a pretty good compromise between performance and weight. It's quite stiff in terms of torsion, but also light. I also like the V-Werks Katana and the V-Werks Mantra. The Mantra is my best all-rounder. When I go to Patagonia, for example, I take the Mantra with me.

And which bindings do you ride?

I'm a total Kingpin fan. I've been riding Kingpin ever since they came out. And I'm totally happy with it.

What do you like about it? .

The rear shock gives you as much transmission as you would never get with a touring rear shock and the two metal pins. This is noticeable in the riding performance and especially on jumps.

When do you lock the binding?

When I'm in an extreme no-fall zone - for example last spring on the east face of the Matterhorn. If the binding opens, the worst case scenario occurs: I fall. So I lock the binding. And if I do fall, it doesn't matter whether the binding opens or not.

You used the term "survival skiing" for this descent on the Matterhorn. Do you want to do more in this direction?

Yes, that's interesting. I've done something like that from time to time over the years. However, I'm generally not a fan of skiing things regardless of whether the conditions make sense from a skiing point of view or not. The conditions should also be good from a skiing point of view. Skiing extreme, exposed lines even in shitty conditions just so you can say: I've skied it - I'm not a fan of that. Such projects are also about the aesthetics and creativity of skiing.

“I can just fly down or add a figure.”

You are also paraglider. Are you also thinking about projects in which you combine skiing with climbing or flying?

In summer, I've used the paraglider as a tool to save me descents. Or to do longer things. My flying skills are not yet good enough for bivouac flying in winter. It's simply much more difficult with ski equipment and the thermal conditions in winter than in summer. But in general, I'm interested in combining my different sports and playgrounds. Also because it requires you to reach a certain level in each sport. I've been skiing for so long and I'm so good at it that it's often just a matter of correctly assessing the conditions and hitting the slopes at the right time. This allows me to take some time away from skiing - time that I can invest in climbing or flying, for example. So that I can get better at it. It's also always fun to learn new things. Of course, the days that are good for flying are often also the days that are good for climbing. On the other hand, I've invested so much time in climbing over the past few years that I now think to myself: the world won't fall apart if I don't climb for two months. Of course, you need an activation phase after a break, but then you quickly get back to where you want to be in terms of level.

You like variety.

Absolutely. As much as I love skiing, I'm already looking forward to climbing and flying when the ski season comes to an end. Anticipation is also a very nice thing. It's very important because it prevents you from burning out - to put it a little harshly. If you practise several sports, you can also keep up with the seasons and nature much better. Then you don't just mourn one season.  

Is flying closer to skiing for you than climbing?

When I flew my first SAT in autumn - one of the lightest
acro figures you can fly - that's how I felt. It was totally cool and dynamic and, like skiing, has a lot to do with speed and flow."

How to jump while skiing.

Something like this. When skiing, I can just ski down, but I can also add a backflip the next time I hit the wind. It's similar with flying. I can just fly down or add a figure.

You've probably learnt a lot about the weather from flying.

Still, actually all the time. It's a never-ending process when flying. Which is also very cool, also because it can help you in your other sports.

Which skiers inspire you? Who do you admire? In an earlier interview, you once mentioned Candide Thovex.

He's still THE skier, isn't he? He is a cat: he moves like a cat on skis. But in every sport I practise, even in sports I don't practise, I'm fascinated by people who really live their sport. It's not just celebrities like Candide Thovex. This also applies to my best colleague, with whom I go skiing every day during my lunch break. You can't measure something like that in terms of popularity.

What do you mean by 'living your sport'?

Passion. But also whether someone passes on their sport: this can be a good mountain guide, but also someone who motivates others to try out the sport with their infectious nature and motivation. Or to set themselves new goals. When paragliding, I've come across pilots who I really look up to because they have so much knowledge that I think to myself: compared to them, I don't really know anything yet.

But you're on such a level when you're skiing.

All I know is that I'm a big fan of humility. If you think you know everything anyway, then you don't know the most important thing: namely that you never know everything.

Have you often experienced something happening that you simply can't explain despite your vast experience and knowledge?

There are always aha moments like this. It's important to reflect on them and try to learn from them. Anyone who says that they haven't had any aha moments out in the snow and on the mountain that have completely surprised them has either not been travelling enough or is not telling the truth.

Your father was probably also an important motivator in your life as a skier?

In any case. If only from the knowledge we absorbed through him in our childhood. A lot of it was almost incidental, almost subconscious. What he passed on to us was very, very important for me and my brother. Also how we practise skiing and guiding today.

Your brother also worked as a ski guide?

He is also a ski guide, but not full-time. He also has a normal job.

Are you always fully booked as a ski guide because you're so well known?

It varies from winter to winter - depending on how much I'm travelling. I also do a lot of things where I'm available as a ski guide at a sponsor event. Or as a mentor for younger athletes from my sponsors. For example, I teach them how to thread an Abalakov and how I use an ice screw.

What are your plans for this winter?

I'm a big fan of the motto: first do it, then talk about it. In this respect, I'm very reluctant to talk about my projects. Laugh. But there's definitely something in the pipeline.

Can you imagine reaching great heights with your projects, similar to Samuel Anthamatten and Jérémie Heitz in Pakistan, for example?

I'm interested in expeditions, but on the other hand you often ski so little. And with climbing, I've missed so much skiing that I've somehow had the feeling for two or three years: I have to ski a lot again now. And that's why I'd rather do something more accessible, where you really get to ski a lot.

Last question: How do you say "backyard" in Vorarlberg?

S' backyard. Laugh.

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