Silvretta Ski Tour - April 2016

Apr 10, 2016
4 min read

I'd long been interested in the art of ski-touring since an initial taster of back-country skiing while tackling the famous Vallee Blanche in Chamonix.

On that occasion we'd been guided and a number of comedic moments live in the memory still. Chief amongst them was when our guide Bernard stopped us all at the top of a crevasse field and pointed out the way ahead. Our path crossed a large open crevasse via a narrow snow-bridge and in somewhat theatrical fashion Bernard set about outlining the objective hazards. 'You fall to the left' he said with a shrug and then indicated the likely outcome by drawing a finger across his throat. 'You fall to the right' he continued and suggested that the same fate awaited to us. He concluded what was his sole moment of guiding wisdom for the day by saying 'my advice, don't fall'.

The impression that moment left on me was a very real sense that this was an arena away from the security of the lift system, pisteurs, and avalanche mitigation. Out there you have to be aware of the hazards and self-reliant. Yeah, I thought. What's not to like!

Fast forward to March 2016 and here I am with two fellow travellers about to step under the rope marking the edge of the controlled piste area above Ischgl and into the unknown. This time unguided. It was a long awaited moment and my memories of Bernard's sanguine words meant it was not a step I took lightly.

Our plan was the classic Slivretta traverse ski tour over 5 days. Huts were booked, equipment bought or hired, plans meticulously made, and now there was no turning back.

Task one was the relatively short descent to the Heidelberghutte where we'd booked two nights to allow for some practice and gear familiarisation the following day. That was soon under our belts and the next day a fine morning dawned and our tour proper was set to begin. After a good breakfast and some diligent questioning of the hut warden about snow conditions, our options for delaying tactics were exhausted. There was nothing for it but to get going.

Our day one objective was the Kronejnoch pass and then the descent to the Jamtalhutte. My main thought as we set off was to find a good rhythmic and efficient method of ascent. The uphill bit was all new territory for me and I was anxious not to run out of puff half way up. Was I going too fast, was I going too slow, was I wearing enough, too much, or too little? Why was my pack so heavy?

Such thoughts began to recede as we found our natural pace and the beauty of our situation began to impress itself upon me. The scenery began to gently slide by and, surprisingly, despite the crowds in the hut the various parties soon began to disperse due to different routes or rates of travel. Before long we were on our own. At last. This is what I'd come for.

As we arrived at the pass I felt satisfied that I was able to tick another box. First ascent completed and some energy still in the bank. The top of the descent run looked a little steep, but it soon eased into what looked to be cruisey, rolling, blue run terrain. Surely something I could tackle. The snow was a little crusty in places, but I'd certainly experienced worse and before long a few sweeping turns had been cautiously negotiated and the hut was already in sight. It seemed wise to slow down a bit and savour the moment. My first ever hut to hut touring day was almost complete.

The Jamtalhutte is a magnificent institution. Constructed over multiple floors and able to accommodate well over 100. The impressively organised staff know how to keep the massed ranks of hungry ski-tourers clean, warm, dry, fed, and largely in order. We were soon installed on the sunny terrace, beers in hand, watching other parties converging on the hut from every conceivable direction. We soon realised that we were at the lower end of the skiing ability range by quite some distance. The locals as well as parties from France and Italy approached via considerably steeper terrain than we had, powering down in impossibly balanced and poised style. We were content none-the-less. We were here, and we were here under our own steam, and that felt good.

The weather was stunning and we were able to look up the linking valley towards our next day objective. It all seemed incredibly idyllic and calm. My first day of ski-touring was complete. 'You know what?' I thought to myself, 'I could get to like this'.

The days that followed soon fell into a comfortable rhythm of steady ascent and mostly cautious, but occasionally exhilarating descent. The views became increasingly spectacular as we moved into more heavily glaciated terrain. Passing beneath the snouts of a number of hanging glaciers added a considerable frisson to our progress and, as suspected, I did get to like it. In fact, I got to like it very much indeed.

What I learnt, however, was that the pleasure did not come in the way I'd anticipated. It was not at all a matter of tolerating long and tedious climbs in order to win the chance for a blast of a descent. Instead the joy came much more from the enterprise as a whole, from what was a new means of travel for me, allowing us to traverse through some incredible landscape, with friends, under our own steam, and relying upon our own skills and judgement. That was the real thrill, and it's one I hope to repeat soon. Of course, the odd weissbier in the huts didn't hurt either.

Itinerary:

Day 1 - Ischgl to Heidelberghutte

Day 2 - Day tour from Heidelberghutte to Davo Sasse (2792m)

Day 3 - Heidelberghutte - Kronenjoch pass - Jamtalhutte

Day 4 - Jamtalhutte - Ochsenscharte pass - Wiesbadenerhutte

Day 5 - Wiesbadenerhutte - Fuorcla dal Cunfin pass - Silvrettahutte

Day 6 - Silvrettahutte - Rote Furka pass - Galtur

With thanks to fellow travellers Richard and Nick.