Musings of a Novice Snowshoer

What’s a keen hiker to to do in the winter when the mountains become blanketed in snow? If you’ve ever tried walking in deep, soft snow you’ll know it’s exhausting. Every step risks sending your into a potentially bottomless hole, and hauling yourself out is highly likely to topple you off balance, sending you floundering on your backside, unable to get up at all. Even worse is crusty snow, an apparently solid surface that decides to collapse just as you transfer your full weight onto it, sending you flying face first into the white stuff.

The solution: strap snowshoes onto your hiking boots, attach snow-baskets to your walking poles, and you’re ready to go off exploring! Snowshoes may look cumbersome, but the hinged section allows you to move naturally and the crampons on the bottom mean that even slopes and icy sections can be tackled too. It's as easy as walking! Just as long as you don't try to walk backwards...

In February I spent a week snowshoeing in the Austrian Alps with a group from the Austrian Alpine Club. Most of us had little to no prior experience of snowshoeing. No matter. Our two experienced leaders, Wendy and Duncan, enabled us to learn new skills, built our confidence, and inspired us to challenge ourselves far beyond what we expected, all with a focus on safety. There were to be no flat ambles through the forest on this trip. We spent a good part of the first day learning and practising how to find and rescue someone buried in an avalanche, using transceivers, probes and shovels. Digging holes in the snow may have seemed bit of a game at that point, but later in the week our path passed near the debris of a previous avalanche. The sight of toppled trees and slabs of snow the size of small cars jumbled in a wide heap focussed our minds very quickly.

Snow can transform any landscape into a smooth monochrome beauty; it can delight as it floats and dances from the sky; and who can resist the allure of individual snowflakes’ unique and lacy geometry. How it it even possible for every single one to be different?

And yet… snow can swallow you whole and crush the breath from your body.

The mountains constantly remind you of their power and indifferent cruelty.

For most of the week the sky was a glorious blue with not a cloud to be seen, and we climbed high - we reached an altitude of over 2300 metres on our last day - but we didn’t tend to linger up there. The sub-zero wind whipping over a ridge, or through the channel of an exposed pass above the tree-line, was enough to turn my fingers numb, even with gloves still on. On one peak the wind had encased the northern side of the summit cross in long horizontal fingers of rime ice. The views and visibility were astounding, but forget removing gloves to take photos! And I was thankful for my fleece hat and neck-warmer to protect my tingling ears and face from frostbite.

Despite these challenges, we humans are able to enjoy the challenge and wild beauty of the winter mountains, thanks to specialist clothing and equipment. But what of wildlife? I was intrigued by the networks of different animal tracks that we often saw traced in fresh snow -hares? foxes? birds? And ravens soared high in the chill air above the passes where we were struggling to avoid becoming icicles. It was magical. But I found myself wondering - how do these creatures manage for food and shelter in this frozen wilderness? Almost all vegetation is dead or buried. Water sources turn to solid ice. What happens to the fish when a lake freezes?

I’m not a biologist and I don’t know the answers. If anyone reading this does know, I’d love to hear from you. No doubt some creatures hibernate, but clearly there are others that stay active. I suspect that some create cozy dens beneath a blanket of snow, going by my dog’s insistent burrowing at a featureless snow slope during our last winter walk near home. In Austria I was intrigued to see a car towing a trailer full of hay up into the snowbound forest, where there was no sign of livestock. Perhaps the hay was destined for the wildlife?

But enough of practical details. Let’s talk emotions. Who can resist the potent combination of splendour and menace of mountains in the winter? Their energising edginess? Their constant demands on your focus, your alertness, your sense of wonder? Put simply, the mountains are where I feel alive.

How do the challenges of winter make you feel and how do you approach them?

Photo credits

Three snowshoers climbing through forest: Wendy Shipley

Rime ice on summit cross: Mike Price

All others: Julie Vural