I have a pretty specific idea of winter romance: dancing snowflakes, dripping icicles, icing sugar trees. A short walk that conjures up a rosy freshness on your complexion, while a mug of mulled wine warms your clammy gloved fingers. And the crowning glory: a hot full bath with fragrant mountains of foam at the end of a frosty day.
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THERE ARE Tolfioow TRAVEL PLANS
“Headlamp”, “snow shovel” and “half a roll of toilet paper” definitely did not belong in the repertoire of my fantasies. Exactly these things are now on the equipment list for the “Winter Camp with Sled Dogs”. That already suggests that this weekend will not be a walk. Quite the opposite: a slightly different kind of wellnessProgram for spoiled city souls like me, who still like to get involved in something new and want to test their limits: How much nature can you actually endure? How little comfort can it be? “Anyone who really wants to immerse themselves in winter must have attended a snow camp. More nature is not possible,” said Norbert Schehle, who organizes these camps for all those who do not necessarily want to travel to Lapland to feel like a polar explorer. The highlight of the expedition in the Allgäu: spending the night in a tent or in an igloo at an altitude of 2000 meters. Gosh, if that’s not something to be a little proud of afterwards!
But the summit must first be conquered. In the morning our group stands at the foot of the Ifen in the Kleinwalsertal – everyone between 19 and 59 years of age, from bloody snow camp beginners to experienced Greenlandic guides. We have the choice: trudge uphill straight away or shorten a section with the chairlift. Photographer Andrea and I decide on the gentle lift variant, while the guides go uphill on touring skis. Which puzzles me at first. Uphill on skis? But, of course, these are snow people, born and raised in the mountains – just other creatures! We, on the other hand, swing over treetops, see white peaks, deep valleys, in the distance the silhouette of a skier. Yes, these pictures fit into my “Heidi” dreams. Ah, the mountains! Shouldn’t you conquer them much more often? The ride is over quickly. At the middle station we meet the guides again, who show us the snowshoe technique. Easy as pie: slip it on, buckle it up, trudge off like ducks. You certainly won’t break speed records, but that’s not the point. We want to slowly make friends with the mountain, breathe fresh winter air, slow down.
Psychic Limits
Psychic Limits
But after about 200 meters of trudging uphill something inexplicable happens: I’m short of breath, my face is very hot, my legs are so heavy, as if they didn’t belong to me but to a full-grown polar bear. “Don’t whine – look at the icing sugar trees,” I order myself, hearing Norbert’s words, who also mentioned “psychic limits”. Now I know what he means. The only consolation for me is the thought that other people master much greater challenges. How might it be for those who trudge through snow for weeks? After all, the concept of the winter bivouac is based on the fact that people planning arctic expeditions can test in advance how they “react in extreme situations”. For me it is already clear: The North Pole will have to wait – the Allgäu will do. What feels like hours later, a red dot rushes in from the distance and gets bigger. It’s Norbert coming down from the summit. His face already betrays the bad news: “Too much fog, visibility less than ten meters. Too dangerous!”
Then no summit. Great disappointment for the others, a secret hope for me: are we going to have a break now? Could the camp be canceled altogether? The tub with the mountains of foam – oh, it’s waiting! “We’re going down to 1,300 meters,” Norbert now calls out unfortunately, causing my illusion to burst into countless snow crystals within nanoseconds. On the way down, I think a little wistfully of yesterday, when we had a “winter active day” in Oberjoch to train our fitness in preparation for the camp. We also got to know snow bikes: yellow vehicles that look like bicycles, only with skids instead of wheels. “Look at the mountain,” Guide Anita repeated like a mantra. Just by turning your head you can steer the bike, very convenient for carving and cruising. Incidentally, I also fell off the T-bar twice with my snowbike.
Yesterday’s second lesson worked all the better: cross-country skiing on a gently curved track, the skis whirred by themselves through the groomed trails, almost weightlessly, pure meditation. Today we have to do a little more for our winter happiness. Finally we reach our “sleeping place”, a plateau at 1300 meters altitude, surrounded by gloomy fir trees. “There’s just nothing there, no water tap, no electricity – nothing. That’s the challenge!” Norbert pats me on the shoulder. This “nothing” feels very clammy at first. Should we settle here? Eat? Sleep? What a contrast to the usual comfort! But there is no time for questions of meaning. Before it gets dark, the camp has to be set up. Everyone lends a hand, shoveling snow, trampling the ground. Building an igloo is easier than you think thanks to the “Icebox”, a plastic mold that is set at the right angle and filled with snow. We shovel against each other and are happy about every centimeter that the two igloos grow. From the inside, the thick walls of snow look as cozy as a fortress. We let two couples go first, who happily move into their igloos. Everyone else is now working on their tents.
Hans, the dog trainer
Hans, the dog trainer
Right in the middle comes Hans, the dog trainer (“musher”), with three Alaskan Malamutes and a husky, whose fur is wonderful to warm your hands. As soon as Hans turns away, there is barking, whining and howling. For this they reap a harsh “Kasuuta, shut up!” or “Bandit, out!” from Hans. Who used to be afraid of dogs. Until he had to carry an injured husky down the mountain: “I recognized his gentle nature and fell in love.” With a husky, mind you. Strange things are happening outside… And also inside, the outrageous is happening: In the community tent, masses of snow are melting on gas stoves. The menu: snow tea, snow packet soup, your choice of ice wine or mulled wine – these simple things taste like a five-star menu straight from snowy heaven after this day! This is how I discover the best recipe against the cold: spooning hot soup, toasting to new friends very often, singing along to songs you don’t know. Then even an icy plateau feels quite warm. How Andrea and I survived the night in the tent at minus 8 degrees? Just this much: In addition to the weatherproof sleeping bag, the right dose of mulled wine is crucial. Exactly enough to warm your heart – but not more than that, to avoid going to the “outhouse”, the toilet pit. The way there can be incredibly long at night. First step: stumble. Second step: confusion.
Where am I? why is everything black Third step: fall over. Get wet. Curse. No fun, a late-night walk to the outhouse. How Andrea and I survived the night in the tent at minus 8 degrees? Just this much: In addition to the weatherproof sleeping bag, the right dose of mulled wine is crucial. Exactly enough to warm your heart – but not more than that, to avoid going to the “outhouse”, the toilet pit. The way there can be incredibly long at night. First step: stumble. Second step: confusion. Where am I? why is everything black Third step: fall over. Get wet. Curse. No fun, a late-night walk to the outhouse. How Andrea and I survived the night in the tent at minus 8 degrees? Just this much: In addition to the weatherproof sleeping bag, the right dose of mulled wine is crucial. Exactly enough to warm your heart – but not more than that, to avoid going to the “outhouse”, the toilet pit. The way there can be incredibly long at night. First step: stumble. Second step: confusion. Where am I? why is everything black Third step: fall over. Get wet. Curse. No fun, a late-night walk to the outhouse. The way there can be incredibly long at night. First step: stumble. Second step: confusion. Where am I? why is everything black Third step: fall over. Get wet. Curse. No fun, a late-night walk to the outhouse. The way there can be incredibly long at night. First step: stumble. Second step: confusion. Where am I? why is everything black Third step: fall over. Get wet. Curse. No fun, a late-night walk to the outhouse.
The next morning I believe in a joke. About the fact that someone from this group buried us. Our tent: shrunk by half, heavy masses press against the fabric from above. When I look out, all I see is a white wall. Then a surreal untouched fairytale landscape. 60 centimeters of fresh snow! I’m just about to wake Andrea up to show her this sensation when a furry snout nudges me outside – Bandit! Has dug its way free and wants to be petted. It’s strange, waking up in the winter nature. Strangely beautiful. And soon there will be snow coffee! Who misses a bathtub? She can wait.
