The Good Old Days Story

It is the middle of winter. Bluebird, clear and freezing cold. The northern slopes are blessed with the most epic and stable conditions. Tobi Heinle, a ski guide from Lech, Hannes Namberger, a former ski racer and one of the best European trail runners, and I meet at short notice and for the first time to start a crunching cold excursion into the Allgaeu Alps, starting from the Lech valley. We want to climb the Wilder Kasten, one of the southernmost peaks of the Allgaeu Alps, via the north-eastern channel. Not a first ascent, but a tour you won't find in any of the classic tour books. I noticed the line a few years ago from the Heilbronner Weg. It immediately got a spot on my bucket list, among many others.

The night before, I fall asleep thinking that this could become one of those "Good Old Days" that I will always remember in the future. "Coming up easy" by Paolo Nutini rudely ends my night, lacking any logic whatsoever. At the same time, my comfortable bed tries to manipulate me into using the snooze function. But that's an old hat; the familiar routine and anticipation take over; I get up. After a quick breakfast and a short drive to Holzgau, we set out in absolute darkness. My backpack, including my camera equipment, can't compete with the lightness of the boys' alpine gym bags. I briefly contemplate outsourcing my drinking bottle to Tobi or Nambo. My ego, however, is stronger. With our headlamps on, we pass the frozen Simms Waterfalls.

At first light, we reach the lower Rossgumpenalpe. This is where the Höhenbach Valley branches out: To the north, it would take you to the highest mountain of the Allgaeu Alps, the Großer Krottenkopf. Instead, we continue west and follow the Schochenalp Creek south of the Allgaeu Hauptkamm to the Schönanger. The snow is getting deeper, and the weight of my backpack is starting to annoy me. After about 1,000 vertical meters, we can finally see a part of the line. A cirque that merges into a couloir with up to 45 degrees, which then leads into an exposed east ridge that will finally take us to the summit. The boys study the mountain, obviously motivated and hard to hold back.

I decide to empty my drinking bottle, transferring almost an entire liter of water from my backpack straight into my body. Regarding the weight that I must carry, this is undoubtedly a naive miscalculation, but nonetheless I feel a lot better. We head up the cirque making countless kick turns. At the transition into the couloir, we take our skis off and strap them to our backpacks. While we dig through the steep and deep snow, I take some pictures and scout possible locations to shoot photos of the descent later on. I can't help my mind to wander. I imagine drawing a first line into this beautiful couloir, watch the sluff slide to the left, and surrender to the enticement of gravity. For a short moment, I even forget my heavy backpack.

When Tobi's and Nambo's heavy breaths wake me from my daydreams as they exit from the couloir, my heavy backpack is practically non-existent. Tobi doesn't want to rest a second and pushes through the exposed, north-facing rock section between him and the summit ridge. Hannes and I smile at each other briefly and take the easier route to the south. Thanks to some hip-deep snow spots, the last 100 vertical meters turn into an extreme effort. We reach the top feel the need for a break and a bite to eat. My snack is so dry, I wish I still had some water, but my bottle is empty. Even my body is dehydrated now; all the water that I carried up this sweaty climb is now soaking my clothes. The northern Allgaeu Hauptkamm looks incredibly impressive.

Looking south into the Lechtal Alps, our gaze rests on the Kaiser Valley. The razor-sharp north ridge and the steep flank of the Kaisersteinspitze stand out like an exposed fin. Click! My bucket list has grown by another mountain again. We remove the skins and get ready. I am the first to drop in in the upper part and will take some pictures. The tall, north-sloping cliffs don't allow any nonsense and require my full attention. I notice that the boys feel comfortable in the exposed terrain and that they know what they are doing. Tobi gets the right of way from us for the virgin couloir and obviously has tons of fun.

Nambo and I quickly discuss our lines through the lower part of the cirque – after all, everyone is supposed to make the most of the day. I stow the camera into my backpack, close my ski boots, vent the goggles, clear my skis of snow, strike my poles against each other... the good old routine is never forgotten. I shout a short and clear "drop-in!", and a new chapter of my "Good Old Days Story" is recorded and saved on my internal hard disk. For the next few minutes, dopamine and adrenalin generously take over. Tobi and Hannes don't seem to feel any different. On their way down to the valley, they jump every single cliff to satisfy their insatiability.

The day ends contemplatively, almost meditatively, with a relaxed cross-country-style hike back through the Höhenbach Valley to Holzgau. While I try to keep the speed up with strong, rhythmic pole strokes, I let the day pass in review. I am pleased that I was able to check one item off my bucket list and, at the same time, add a new one. I am more than confident that Tobi and Nambo had plenty of fun, too – enough to make their very own "Good Old Days" memories.