Welcome to the Other Side

Hardly anyone seems to know about it, but tucked away in a side valley beyond Switzerland’s Bernina Pass lies one of the most diverse ski touring territories in the Alps. Endless slopes, beautiful routes, no crowds. Right in the middle of it all is a mountain hut serving excellent pizzoccheri.

“Awesome …!” Luggi doesn’t need to say much more than that. The rest is written across the vast mountain landscape surrounding him. A quiet story from a forgotten corner of the Alps that feels like a throwback to a time long before the word “overtourism” even existed. Luggi rips off his skins and nods. “Ready for the first powder run.” Wide turns send glittering snow crystals swirling into the air. A few hundred vertical feet lower, he pulls up with a grin as wide as the plateau where he stops. Luggi already knows that three days of ski touring won’t even begin to scratch the surface of what the Livigno Alps have to offer. New possibilities open up in every direction: Piz Ursera, Piz Paradisin, Corn da Camp, Piz Cunfin, Motal, Piz dal Teo ...

While these names may not enjoy the same reputation as the famous giants west of the Bernina – such as Piz Palü and Piz Bernina – it is often the neglected outsiders that hold the great- est surprises. The first sign of this appears the night before, in an atmosphere that seems straight out of a winter fairy tale. Thick snowflakes fall from the skies, while the fresh snow muffles every sound. After an hour, a clearing opens up in the forest. Warm light streams through the windows of the Rifugio Saoseo mountain hut. A little later, Gigi serves up steaming soup. More than ninety years ago, the hut was known as “Casa Lugacqua,” an alpine farm sitting at nearly 6,600 feet with eighteen cows.

Today, it belongs to the Swiss Alpine Club and serves as the perfect base camp for ski tours into the backcountry between Bormio and Livigno. Just over the ridge lie glamorous St. Moritz and fashionable Pontresina. Yet the world south of Bernina Pass feels entirely different from the Upper Engadin to the north – quieter, simpler and more grounded. Sustainability and gentle tourism are at the heart of life in Val Poschiavo.

“All local ingredients,” says Gigi the next day after our tour to Piz Ursera, setting a giant pan of Puschlaver pizzoccheri loaded with cheese, potatoes and vegetables on the patio table. The perfect carb refill. Especially for Luggi and Florian, who are heading out again that very afternoon. Although the last snowfall was several days ago, there are still patches of waist-deep powder in the open larch forests below Punta dal Dügüral. The forested terrain east and south of the hut also offers excellent opportunities on days with whiteout conditions, when the otherwise treeless alpine landscape appears completely featureless.

The hut and valley are still buried in shadow when Florian and Luggi set off the following morning for Piz Cunfin (9,528 feet). An icy wind sweeps across the broad slopes above treeline. Snow and fog are forecast for later in the day. Massive avalanche debris on the northand east-facing slopes reminds us of a story Gigi told the night before. Despite extreme avalanche danger and his explicit warning, a group of four freeskiers had climbed above treeline on Piz Mürasciola, built a kicker and started taking photos. When they came back, Gigi gave them a serious talking-to. At that exact moment, the entire slope – kicker included – released and thundered into the valley below.

On the broad plateau of Plan da la Genzana, the first rays of sunlight creep over the ridge. The wind dies, frozen faces begin to relax. Across the valley, steep couloirs carve down the north faces of Corno di Dosse (10,604 feet). Avalanche danger remains too high for any steep-ski ambitions. On the south-facing slopes, however, the new snow has settled nicely. “Perfect corn,” says Luggi after digging a quick pit near the summit of Piz Cunfin. The descent down the steep face feels like skiing on velvet.

“Whew, that’s spicy,” Flo mutters the next day while climbing toward Piz Paradisin (10,837 feet). After a relaxed start, the hike turns into a demanding switchback clinic through difficult snow. Tempting as the summit is, Florian and Luggi decide to skip the final scramble, which leaves more time for the southeast couloir beneath La Pala.

From the entrance of the line, more than 3,300 vertical feet of perfect corn drop toward Lagh da Saoseo. There isn’t another track in sight, just like on so many routes surrounding Rifugio Saoseo. “There’s still so much left to do,” says Luggi, a trace of melancholy in his voice, as his skis send one final spray of corn snow into the spring air.