The view takes me aback. Not the panorama of 80 snow-capped, jagged peaks that top 3,000 metres, nor the lone skier carving perfect turns down a forest-fringed piste. They are lovely, of course, but the important view, the one that few winter sports enthusiasts will ever get to see, is behind a nondescript door next to the bakery that’s tucked beside the ski lift station in the bottom of this valley. In here may lie the answer to the question that brought me to Austria’s SkiWelt region: is it possible to ski green?
I’ve always been a sceptic on that front. Skiing feels like the greatest possible waste of earthly resources for the benefit of a privileged few. From its consumer-porn stores filled with the latest in space-age clothing to its ugly clanking lifts, overheated hotels and casual use of helicopters, the entire industry is one giant middle finger to a burning planet, isn’t it?
Mario Gruber doesn’t think so. He’s managing director for Bergbahnen Söll, a significant part of SkiWelt, home to 171 miles (275km) of piste, 80 mountain huts and 81 ski lifts. Sitting in his office beside that bakery near the Söll ski lift, he is watching two large flat screens. “At any one time we can tell the snow depth of any location,” he says. He turns to the other screen, flicking between a complex diagram of a hydro-engineering mechanism, water flow charts and a weather map. “Here I can get weather forecasts for different altitudes, also the power we have available from our lakes and new hydro plant. Then I can work out if we need snow, how much of it, and the power required. If a snow cannon is needed, then it’s used minimally – and all the water and power is local and renewable. No additives. No extras.”
The view I’m getting, I realise, is a glimpse into a possible future for winter sports: sustainable energy lifting water up the mountain, converting it to snow, then harnessing the power as that water melts and comes back down.
Later that day I’m up on the slopes with Gerhard, my 80-year-old ski instructor. He has seen the entire life of this SkiWelt area, from its humble postwar beginning to the current situation. “It began with a lift made from second world war wreckage,” he tells me. “It was just for the people of our nine villages. Before that, skiing was just for transport – it was all we had in winter.”
Demand for leisure skiing started to grow and the villages cooperated, sharing the burdens and benefits. Many of those involved were Tirolean farmers whose summer pastures became winter pistes. A traditional dedication to quality in their milk and cheese evolved into a determination to make good environmental decisions for the region’s booming winter role.
For now, however, I’m focused on more immediate matters: Gerhard’s guide to basic skiing techniques. For many years I’ve had a feeling that I never reached my full potential with skiing. In my mind’s eye, I speed down vertical slopes and leap crevasses, but in reality I fall over on level surfaces and get the heebie-jeebies when I start sliding too fast.
My ski history has not helped: one school trip followed by years living in the tropics, then a few false starts and unfortunate mishaps. Now I am sharing the nursery slope with a class of three-year-olds who are already way ahead of me. But Gerhard is a gentle genius who coaxes some sense into my movements and helps conquer the panic that sets in when I slide faster than I can run. Eventually, he lets me out on a blue run with co-instructor Mary.
We head down to where SkiWelt has put in a new solar-powered eight-person ski lift. “It even works when there’s snow covering the panels,” she says. This towering technological achievement, however, is dwarfed by Mary’s ability to demonstrate perfectly how I should weave my way down the slope. And I do. The blue run is repeated. And then I do it alone. I never fall. I don’t even come close. At the foot of the run I sit looking at that solar-powered lift. Is it possible that a remarkable double victory could be in sight: the winter sports industry goes green and I learn to enjoy skiing?
Before leaving the UK I had asked a few ski industry insiders about the environmental aspect. Richard Sinclair at ski tour operator Sno made a telling point: “Despite everything, the major carbon cost of a ski trip remains the flight. Go overland.”
For that reason, I used an Interrail pass, which involved a night in London, then the Eurostar to Amsterdam before jumping on the Nightjet sleeper to Austria.
Mountain resorts in France, Germany and Switzerland are easy by train and make the most carbon savings. Instead of wandering around Terminal 3, I use the journey to explore Amsterdam, visiting the recently reopened Rembrandt’s House Museum.
Another major factor is the equipment. Rental is definitely the best environmental policy (try Ecoski), but there are also secondhand markets such as Skibörse and Whoski to consider. Some resorts have secondhand clothing shops. Manufacturers are also racing to produce more sustainable and environmentally friendly clothing. Check out brands such as Jöttnar (a British outfit whose use of recycled fishing nets in down jackets has cut production emissions by 20%), Oosc (also using recycled plastics) and Houdini (a Swedish leader in innovation).
Back in SkiWelt, I head up the valley to a hotel that has been a driving force behind the environmental aspect of the entire region. Back in the early 1960s, Gasthaus Stanglwirt was a small family farm that rented a few rooms in its traditional farmhouse. When 17-year-old Balthasar Hauser inherited the business, he started expanding it in some wholly unexpected ways: there is a boxing ring, for example, and a tennis academy alongside a spa complex that might have been designed by Bilbo Baggins.
Balthasar’s son, Johannes, points out to me, however, that the farm remains the heart: “We still make our own organic cheese and butter.” They have also installed a wood gasification plant that powers the entire operation on local timber, without producing any CO2. It’s typical of the entire SkiWelt area: a beguiling amalgam of cutting-edge and traditional.
For me, however, the final experience has to be a toboggan run. No ski piste can match the communal delight of clattering down at high speed with a gang of like-minded speed freaks. And at a cost of €10 a day rental for a wooden sledge, it’s definitely affordable and environmentally friendly fun.
At the top, however, I look down the near-vertical start and gulp. Old fears resurface, but a family with small children are waiting. There is no escape. I tighten the crash helmet strap, push off and go for it.
Kevin was a guest of Austrian Tourism, whose website has further information on ski holidays. Sno offers seven-night trips to Söll in SkiWelt starting from £405 a person (B&B). A four-day Interrail pass costs about £235 (sleeper and express trains usually have supplementary charges). Kevin’s route was Eurostar from London to Amsterdam, then the Nightjet to Wörgl (near Innsbruck). His London accommodation was provided by Sawdays