Allgaeu Rocks

Allgaeu – this is where I grew up. I was raised in the town of Pfronten, to be precise. This is home; this is the place I know by heart. At least that's what I thought! I was only two years old when my father gave me my first skis, and I have been addicted ever since. Even as a kid, I loved to ski through forests and next to the groomed slopes. My friends and I regularly built kickers in the backcountry. Later, as a professional alpine skier, I barely ever had time to ski powder. I was 19 years old when I joined the professional ski cross circuit and discovered ski touring – my passion for off-piste skiing revived.

Martin Fiala invited me to join him for my first trips to the backcountry, and I realized that the Allgaeu Alps have so much more to offer than groomers. We set a date for spring and planned a few classic tours in the Allgaeu region, including the trip from Einödsbach to the Bockkar Gap and back. The conditions weren't very good; the snow had already started to melt in the valley. Avalanche danger was an issue, and we had to be patient. After a few days, I received an encouraging message: "Let's try it, it will be colder tonight!" Long before dawn, we met at the Fellhornbahn parking lot and marched into the dark towards Einödsbach, hid our hiking shoes behind a hut, and set out for the tour.

Our hike took us across the massive debris of avalanches, which had come down the days before on both sides of the Bacherloch, and up a daunting, narrow valley. The snowpack had a stable top layer, but those gigantic masses of slipped and towering snow were proof that there is no reason to be in this valley when the conditions aren't good. How tiny and helpless we are in the face of nature's forces! Our senses were sharpened each step we made. As the sun rose, there was not a single cloud in the sky. Through a steep gully, we approached the traverse to the Bockkar. The winter route leads over an exposed rocky crest next to the summer path, which is secured with cable.

We were aware that there would be no chance to pass this section in case the crusted top layer wasn't able to take our load. We attached our skis to the backpacks, grabbed our ice axes and began the climb with the utmost caution. Conditions were ideal, yet any mistake would have been fatal in this steep terrain. 200 vertical meters later, at the exit, a huge frozen waterfall shining like a diamond greeted us. We were both relieved and overwhelmed. For the first time, we took the time to look down into the valley. We had made about half of our ascent, and the vast and seemingly endless Bockkar was lying right before our eyes. Back on our skis we passed Waltenberger Hut, an old building that is about to be taken down and replaced in fall 2015.

The sun shone into the couloir, and it got noticeably warmer. Close to the gap, the slope got steeper and the snow even softer. After 1,500 vertical meters, our legs were heavy and it felt like for each step forward, I made two steps back. The last steep stretch seemed to take forever. Finally, we reached the top, exhausted yet happy. We were rewarded with a great view across the Oberstdorf and Lech valleys. But paradise didn't last long. Several small avalanches raced down from the southern steeps directly into the Bacherloch. The same creepy feeling we had in the morning returned. Martin and I looked at each other skeptically as we remembered the masses of snow in the narrow gorge below.

Skiing down the same way we came up was suddenly not an option anymore. We had no choice: we had to ski down into Lech valley. A great idea, as we found out later. The sun had turned the snow into perfect corn, and we were able to surf to the valley floor. What a reward for this exhausting climb! We rode down in large, wide turns. The slope was endless and untracked in all directions making it impossible that Martin's and my lines would cross at any point. We stopped at the steep step. It was followed by a spacious passage. I looked forward to those turns, but I wasn't entirely sure whether we could find a passage out further below.

I was lured into the adventure, pushed off and all of a sudden found myself above a ten-meter cliff with nothing but rocks and mountain pines around me. Downhearted, I wanted to shoulder my skis when Martin shouted: "Wait a second, Flo!" A bit later, Martin appeared on a small slope across from me. Pointing with his poles, he guided me through the complex terrain... ten minutes later and after battling the pine trees, I joined him, soaked in sweat. He smiled and teased me: "The first turns were worth it, weren't they?" From there, it was nothing but pure pleasure. There was not a soul around. All I heard was the crunching of the snow beneath my skis. We played with the terrain, with no limits being set to our creativity – an amazing feeling.

The very last section of this incredible tour took us past the Lower Roßgumpen Alp and the Sims waterfalls. Tired but happy, we reached Holzgau in the Lech valley. Driving home, I thought: "I grew up in the Allgaeu, but I have never been up there before." A fact triggering my appetite for more. Why travel to Canada or the US when I haven't even explored all the options right in my backyard? This is when I realized: I want to get to know my homeland better, and I hope to be able to explore many more spots with "old farts" like Martin. Allgaeu rocks!