Unforgettable Christmas on the Road

I'm a real wimp when it's cold in winter. I am freezing despite of Merino underwear and down jacket; I can't imagine a ski day without a hot shower when I get home; I sleep with my windows closed; and I wouldn't even mind to wear heated gloves. So why would a chilblain like me keep heading out on Christmas-time road trips with friends? In an RV? Year after year? I have no idea. It's a fact that a motor home doesn't have efficient insulation against the freezing cold. And every single morning that I wake up in my damp, cold sleeping bag, I envy all those sleeping in a warm hotel.

Nevertheless, going on an RV road trip with the sole objective to find the best freeride spots has one clear advantage: Maximum flexibility while searching for the best powder. The weapon of choice for our search for the holy winter grail was a 7-meter recreational vehicle that had enough space for us three freeriders and 600kg of equipment. Maybe it was the manufacturer's claim on the back of the RV – "a family friend" – that made leaving our families right after the turkey dinner and distributing the gifts a little easier. We felt like truckers: way above everything else, free and looking for adventure, and with tons of beer, liquor, and other stuff in the vehicle's cargo bay.

We had a total of 14 days to find interesting mountains and fresh powder. After studying the usual weather websites, we had a vague direction: Italy. Genoa low-pressure areas and humid airflows from the south were supposed to create the conditions that we were looking for. The heaviest snowfalls were announced for the region between the Monte Rosa range, to Madesimo and Livigno, and all the way to Southern Tyrol. This forecast determined our route. On December 25th, we spent a rainy night at a truck stop close to Martigny. The next day, we headed straight into snow chaos. We left the highway at the entrance to the Aosta Valley and circled uphill, 44 steep kilometers to Gressoney-La-Trinité.

After only a few hundred vertical meters, large raindrops turned into an impenetrable curtain of snow, covering the road immediately with sticky white mush. We chained up, and while passing stranded small Italian cars and several helpless snow ploughs, we made it half way up with some difficulty. Heavy snow crystals fell from the skies, like a hurricane blowing through a down factory. Finally dozens of cars were jammed in all directions at the entrance to some old town. Police had blocked the road and only locals were allowed to continue. Could it be that we were stuck out here on a five-star powder day? We waited stubbornly in traffic until we finally reached the roadblock.

And we were lucky: A pretty girl in a Fiat diverted the Carabinieri's attention for a moment. Mentally absent, he waved our rolling fortress through the roadblock. With even more luck and a very sensitive right foot, we finally made it to Gressoney-Saint-Jean. The closed, red and white avalanche gate across the road made it impossible to continue to the Stafal ski resort. Slightly frustrated, we dug our way into the town's parking lot, started the heater and made some soup, which we downed with some Schnapps before we decided to call it a day. Outside the RV, the storm kept blowing, loading tons of snow on our roof while we slept. Without much hope, we opened the blinds the next morning.

Hard to believe, but the sun was shining from a bright blue sky and the landscape around us was covered by thick, white cushions. And the avalanche gate was open! Only 90 minutes later, we were all geared up, super fat skis on our feet, standing to our knees in Monte Rosa's freshest powder. Near Colle Bettaforca and above Gabiet we found several lines through deeply snow-covered larch tree runs. We did not see any other freeriders. We were careful and stayed alert skiing in 80-centimeter fresh powder. Slowly and cautiously, we tested steeper runs and enjoyed the fluffiest Christmas pow ever. Later that day, we switched to the eastern part of the valley. Skiing down an intermediate slope to scout out the terrain, we were deeply disappointed.

The snow was so incredibly deep that we could not gain any speed on this slope, forcing us to push out of the valley. We decided to find steeper runs in the surrounding larch forests. On this rather critical first day, the terrain in the lower part of the descent delivered maximum fun. That night, we were so exhausted that we had a hard time squeezing the toothpaste out of the tube. The next two days were sunny and cold. Everything that was easily accessible from the ski resort was quickly tracked. We put on our skins and headed out to the southern shoulder of Stolemberg (3,202 meters); from there we dropped into a couloir that took us to the entrance of Balma valley.

Chased by a few smaller slabs in the first, steeper part of the couloir, we sped down into the untouched valley – about 2,000 vertical, and in hip-deep powder. This run shall never be forgotten. After an also unforgettable pasta at the Rifugio Pastore, we skied through heavily snow-laden larches and across a snow-covered road down to Alagna. We reached Passo Salati, from there hiking to Passo Zube (2,874 meters), followed by an overwhelming run down to the Valle d'Olen. On our fourth day, we stood on top of Punta Indren (3,275 meters) on our way to the Y couloir that would either take us to the Rifugio Quintino Sella or to the Salsa valley. That day, the next Genoa low-pressure area had hit the region, delivering up to another meter of new snow.

We had decided to drive to Madesimo and Livigno, and we were lucky again: After the storm, we hit another weather window. It pays to be flexible when you are searching for the top spots. And precise powder spot landings with a mobile home are easier than roasting your Xmas turkey at home. Same procedure as every year.