A month-long road trip across the Alps in March - always in search of the best snow! After the furious start to the season in early winter but unproductive months of January and February, will this dream really become a reality?
The closer the start date approached...
The closer March 1, my planned start date, came, the more nervously the weather forecasts were examined and every ounce of hope for a precipitation-rich start after the two dry and warm months was sought. At the end of February, the time had finally come: the summery temperatures gave way to a strong tendency towards precipitation in the Alps. Full of anticipation, after making all kinds of preparations for my vehicle, equipment and food, I set off for the Arlberg, where the most precipitation was expected. The precipitation came in the quantities I had hoped for, but unfortunately it rained right up to high altitudes. The completely soaked snow cover (if there was any left at all), combined with the poor weather forecast, left me completely frustrated on my way home. A false start that couldn't have been worse. Having survived the initial binge drinking to some extent, the weather maps seemed to become more and more attractive as the alcohol content in my blood dropped. A strong, persistent north-westerly current and, at the same time, an Adriatic depression were preparing to make the Alps a rich gift. So quickly onto the bus and into the center of the NW precipitation: Engelberg. After the usual short stop at Swiss customs, I took the first gondola on time at 9.30 am. It was here that I realized what the locals meant by "lots of Scandinavians in town". There was hardly a ski with a width of less than 90 mm to be seen on the mountain, and people were communicating almost exclusively in Nordic languages that I could not understand. The hype "freeski" must really have reached the masses. As the coming day was also predicted in the media as "the day of the season for all deep snow freaks", it was a tough but correct decision to leave the 70cm of fresh snow, sunshine and tens of thousands of crazy people behind me. The new destination for the next two days was to be the Arlberg, as the crowds are better spread out here and short hikes can also reach untracked terrain.
After a few phone calls...
...several fellow riders were found to share the 30 cm of fresh snow in the sunshine. In addition to 3 people from Munich, who took on the role of guide, Georg from Vienna and Claus from the Kurpfalz were also there.
The guides did a great job and kept showing us new beautiful spots. Around midday, Claus unfortunately had to stop after an unfortunate fall, and Patrick from Munich was soon to join him with a broken binding. The remaining skiers found the best conditions at 1600 meters, just above Stuben. The 30cm had barely blown away here and the old snow cover had not yet frozen over again, so the runs over the avalanche barriers down to Stuben were really fun.
Around 5pm, Georg and I said goodbye to the people from Munich and Claus, who didn't want to risk another day of skiing in suboptimal conditions.
We spent the evening in tranquil St. Anton. The daily weather and avalanche check went surprisingly quickly thanks to the hotspot in the village, so we were able to end the evening in our cozy cave with a nightcap.
On Friday morning (7.3.) we first had to pick up Pati from Innsbruck at the train station. Full of motivation, he managed to drag us up the mountain and introduce us to some nice lines in Stuben and from the Albonagrat to St. Christoph. Around midday, the other two brave warriors were persuaded by me to make a detour to the Schindlergrat. We could only believe that the best lines were still untracked right there, directly below the lift, when we had marked them with our signs from below. A very nice playground, which we will definitely get under the slats again in the future! On the fourth and final lap, a lift attendant tried to persuade us to take a more moderate, rutted option" after all, we had the better arguments on our side with 8m of steel edge vs. 2 mountain boots. At around 4 p.m. we took Pati back to the station so that he could continue with his important studies. The powder plows up even without him...
The search for a destination
for the weekend wasn't quite so easy on the second day after the snowfall. But a phone call with a nice Swiss man to find out whether the Secret Spot would be open on Saturday brought clarity: Yes, it will be open on Saturday! Unfortunately, we can't tell you here where this area is, as the lift manager himself made us out-of-towners take a vow of silence. We can only tell you this much: Yes, it was worth the long journey, and yes, it was awesome! Fluffy powder, very few tracks, no competitors, just friends and a big grin on the mountain. Georg only missed the cell phone reception there and tried to improve it by jumping into the phone line - no Georg, that's not how it works.
Totally exhausted from all the powder skiing, we headed back down into the valley at around 2 p.m. and toasted the good decision to choose this location with a beer.
In the evening, we treated ourselves to a few drops of water in the indoor pool, which were urgently needed after four days of skiing.We set up camp for the night
in Beckenried, the base for the next day.
As everything in the immediate vicinity of the slopes had also been covered in snow 4 days after the snowfall or had fallen victim to the sun or the temperatures, we decided on a one-hour hike up the Risetenstock. We feared sub-optimal slush conditions for the descent, but as soon as we had slid down from the summit into our previously visited face, it suddenly became soft and fluffy under our skis. The anticipation of having been 2 minutes faster than a group of 4 snowboarders was an additional reason to dive into the face with joy.
An estimated 60 spectators at the lift station with the best view of the face didn't miss out on the spectacle; I was the first to ride and was able to pull off my previously inspected line almost perfectly - if it hadn't been for the concrete-hard landing after the cliff. Fortunately, I was able to continue right after a few rollovers and capture Schorsch's line digitally. The spectators also had a lot of fun with Schorsch's line: "Here comes another one'....How is he going straight towards the cliff? He can't go any further't go any further'now he jumps...WAHNSINN, that was at least 20 meters. Those crazy people!" (Note: it was "only" about 8-9 meters).
After the work was done, we decided against another hike due to the high temperatures and headed back down into the valley to air out our clothes a little and let Sunday be Sunday. After all, Schorsch still had a long journey home via Salzburg to Vienna ahead of him, including the usual brief stop at Swiss customs. Young men with long, unkempt hair, tired eyes and a large car with darkened windows seem to fall into the customs search grid...
