When we woke this morning it was snowing hard and seemed to have been doing so for most of the night. I headed up the hill to the station without seeing another person on the way. The train, only three carriages, was not busy. At Scheidegg, all was silent. The snow at the station wasn’t underfoot, it was ankle deep.
The clouds were low and skiing was not easy. The long, steep schuss on the Arven red turned into an impressive wipeout. It took a few minutes to find my skis in the deep snow. As someone told me many years ago, they are always further up the hill than you expect.
A snowbound day brought 3,225 vertical metres in 14 lift rides and 21 kilometres travelled.