Four Skiing Days

Published on 2022-2-3 by Michael Stanton

I did four great days in the mountains, first two alone, then two with Barbara. The avalanche conditions in Tyrol were quite bad. All the tours I chose were quite safe under these conditions. The snow wasn't always the best, especially because I stayed at low elevation, however, it was some great exercise.

First up, Vorderunnütz

February 3, 2022

Pretty wonderful ski tour. Foolishly, I parked at a lot in Steinberg am Rofan which required 5 euros for the day, but if I had walked 30 seconds away, I would have seen where all the savvy people park for free. I asked one of the men who parked at the free lot if it was necessary to pay. He said he didn't think so, but then again, he added -- he is a member of the village!

So at least I made one person happy. It is fun to feel part of a private club. In his case, he knows he'd never get a ticket there because the people are like family. Me being a stranger, and reminding him that there are those who feel insecure in the world because they are unknown, allowed him to feel warm and even loved. Good!

I skinned up this small ski area, only about 250 meters elevation gain. But it was well-maintained by just two operators. At the top I looked at the map and saw that I'd have to do a kind of strange trip around the back side of a mountain to continue my route. My friend from the morning asked to be sure I knew the way, and I said goodbye to him.

A pleasant couple of hours followed, skinning on flat and gently ascending trails, finally reaching first one log cabin and then another, at which I was able to sit down on a window sill and stand on a bench in front of the cabin. The snow was so high! While I drank tea, my head dodged beams in the rafters of the porch roof. The sun was burning through low clouds.

Higher, I got above the trees and had quite a route-finding challenge. There were no tracks. I only saw sign of other skiers from the prior week near the summit which was wind-scoured ice. But down here I had to make my way on awkward traverses, sometimes climbing too high into little latschen groves. I checked the map often, and mostly traversed west and then south, trying to check my urge to climb too steeply and prematurely.

The incredible cornices on Vorderunnütz.

Me on Vorderunnütz.

The iced-up summit cross.

The view to the higher summit to the north.

A look to the Achensee.

Higher still, I could finally interpret the terrain. I made switchbacks up a shoulder to a ridge on very nice snow, not deep powder, but a powdery layer over a reasonably firm base. I traveled on a ridgetop, then climbed after a slight descent onto the icy summit ridge. Conditions were very different here, and I stopped to put on a jacket against the strong wind coming from the north and west. Now I could see the Achensee. My summit was beset by enormous cornices. They had a kind of dual architecture: the usual inverted mushrooms, but this time supported by strong leaning columns of snow. It was unusual. I stayed well back from them on the final bit to the summit!

All the mountains were gorgeous and quite snowy. The Karwendel peaks looked especially black and frightening with their snowy gullies and improbable faces.

The ski of the upper mountain went very quickly and was very pleasant as well. I only saw in my guidebook later that I had an option to go straight down to the south which would have eliminating much traversing, and much tedium later in the region of the cabins. However, the book also says that way had more avalanche danger and so I'm glad I didn't play with it. Again I drank tea in the roof-rafters of the higher cabin, then, tiring, went through the ups and downs to reach the little ski lift. From there, the descent was smooth and easy.

A great day! Something around 1100 meters up and down.

Wonderful powder on the way down.

A long, lonely traverse.

Sonnwendjochhaus

I was back to the east side of the Rofan Mountains, in some of the same terrain as on my trip January 4th to snowshoe up the Pletzachkogel and Roßkogel. This time, I would make my summit the Sonnwendjochhaus -- that little house at the abandoned ski lift station a bit below the summit of the Roßkogel. It didn't seem reasonable to deal with the steep snow on that final push.

The view from Sonnwendjochhaus.

A great couple from Kramsach.

Starting from the base station, I followed the lower ski area slope with a working rope tow, then continued skinning up switchbacks on a road, which finally led to the old ski slope. Before too long I was on the broad slope on which the rest of the route is visible. I simply set to work, and before long was on top. I sat and drank tea, talking with a nice couple from Kramsach about hiking on the Continental Divide Trail later in the year. The snow was perfect in the upper half, just beautiful skiing. Down low, it got heavy and a bit ugly and icy as I neared the road. I continued down an alternate icy road to the car.

Sonnwendjochhaus again!

I was back the next day with Barbara! We headed up. It was considerable work for her. I'd been telling her about how wonderful ski touring is, but here, on her second ski tour ever (and the first in nearly 2 years), it didn't feel so amazing. But we continued to the top. This time, we discovered that the hot tub was on at the little mountain hotel just above the abandoned lift building. Amazing! But no one was home. So strange!

We loved the skiing down, at least until the ugly part. Going down the icy road was easy enough.

Me and Barbara by the hot tub.

The hot hot tub.

We slept at a hotel in Kramsach and prepared for the next day...

Feldalphorn

At the parking lot in the morning it was amazing how poorly people parked, leaving awkwardly sized 1.5 meter spaces between cars. This irritated me because this mountain was one of the few avalanche safe tours in the area, and naturally on such a bad weekend (9 people had died already), folks would rightfully want to come here for a safe tour.

Barbara asked a guy if he could move his car slightly so we could park. But he said he had his ski boots on and moving the car would feel funny wearing ski boots. So we got out our shovels and gloves so we could dig out a space on the edge of the lot. I figured it would take about 20 minutes of effort. The thing was, I knew there was another good tour about 3 kilometers up the road, but because of the avalanche danger I ruled out taking Barbara there. I didn't even know that it was at that lot that a husband and wife had been killed by an avalanche 2 days before (the location of the bodies and the avalanche discovered, amazingly, by drone late Friday night).

I hollered a few angry words at the back of the departing man, unwilling to move his car slightly for us, then set to work digging. The man eventually came back and lectured me about yelling. He said I wasn't the only person in the world. I agreed heartily. I'm just a person who wants to park and doesn't see why I should be rubuked for a small request. Oh well. This kind of thing has to do with the number of people who ski tour...numbers perhaps inflated by the many rules around visiting ski areas in the COVID-era. It is disappointing. It would have been good if I didn't contribute to any rancor or stress in the morning. I don't regret making a little noise, however. I do think we're all in this together. To my way of thinking, there are "city rules" and there are different rules in the mountains. In a city, people are strangers to each other and happily deny each other even small helps. But at a backcountry parking lot, where plowed space is limited, and we're all going out in a self-sufficient way with our avalanche gear, etc., I expect a different orientation of one individual to another. Open, friendly, willing to help if requested should be the way of things out there.

I do thank the man for returning.

So anyways, we headed up. Barbara continued on a difficult learning path. It was amazing how much there is to know about skinning up steep, icy skin tracks. I had no idea, but it's true. There is so much shifting of weight at just the right time...so many rules of thumb about when to aggressively pound the skis into an icy slope and when to be delicate and trust the skins. We were crabby with each other in the middle of the trip, though this led to greater understanding of each others experience as time went on. Practically speaking, Barbara made an adjustment in the length of her ski poles that helped tremendously.

On Feldalphorn, Rettenstein in the background.

On Feldalphorn together.

As we approached the summit, we could see weather coming in. It was in fact a major storm. Clouds swallowed summits to the west of us and the wind picked up. On top we looked around, at the Rettenstein especially, and we thought of Mara. Going down, we enjoyed a few small powder stashes on shady aspects. I could see a sense of confidence building in Barbara. Now she had 2 summits under her belt.

We drove home and heard an amazing wind storm in the night. I heard breaking glass at one point outside! So it was a rather stormy day in several ways!