Gold Rush

Steep slopes, a knife-edge ridge and endless silence: Gfroren Horn (9,009 feet) above Davos hides where few people ever think to look. A ski tour for those seeking solitude. And adventure in the overlooked. The slopes sparkle white – but our destination lies higher. More remote. Colder. With every step on climbing skins, breathing becomes more rhythmic, thoughts grow quieter. The avalanche beacon replaces the prospector’s sieve, touring skis the gold pan. Like modern-day prospectors, we climb in search of powder – and a moment worth every ounce of effort.

Down in the valley, the luxury of the World Economic Forum sparkles: limousines, expensive watches on the wrists of tech billionaires. But Led Zeppelin said it best: “All that glitters is not gold.” The real treasure of this Davos winter isn’t hidden inside the congress center but in the shadow of the Sertig Valley. Up here, the stock market means nothing. Instead, another kind of wealth awaits – one no amount of money can buy: white gold.

Normally, Mother Nature is generous to Davos by mid-January. But this year, she seems to be on strike. Finding powder has become a treasure hunt – slow, uncertain, hard-earned. The well-known routes have long since been tracked out. But my touring partner Martin and I trust our instinct and board Bus 308 to Sertig Sand. Just 25 minutes later, it feels as though we’ve stepped into another world. Snow-covered Walser houses stand in stark contrast to the highest town in the Alps. While security fences divide Davos, we search for freedom above – a lonely counterpoint to the global spectacle in the valley.

Sertig Dörfli sits at 6,106 feet and ranks among the most beautiful mountain villages in Grisons. Only a handful of people endure all seasons here. The Walser settlers arrived in the 13th century, cleared forests and built their weathered larchwood homes. Even the old granaries still stand on their mushroom-shaped stone stilts. We leave behind the protected chapel Hinter den Eggen, built in 1699, and venture deeper into the silence.

Overnight, the wind has drawn fresh lines across the snow. Soft waves, frozen tracks, complete solitude. Only the rustle of our shell jackets and the clicks of ski bindings disturb the quiet.

“Gfroren Horn certainly lives up to its name,” Martin says, breathing warmth into his fingers. The sun still lingers behind the peaks. Through his binoculars, he spots an ice climber ascending the frozen waterfall – a delicate dance across shimmering blue ice.

The winter lacking in snow has left the landscape looking rugged. Where thick blankets of snow usually soften the contours of the Davos mountains, bare rock has taken over. Deep shadows and wind-swept ridges of snow reveal every contour. For us, this means, above all, hard work. Martin leads the way. At times, our skins barely stick to the icy surface; at others, we sink surprisingly deep into hidden snow pockets. Sweat stings our eyes; the cold creeps under our jackets. This is precisely the hardship faced by gold prospectors. This winter, every ounce of the white gold has to be earned.

With every vertical foot, the valley falls farther away. The route follows the valley before climbing steeply onto the north face. The final ridge looks straight out of a movie. Barely a boot’s width separates sky from empty space. Every step matters. The tension feels like a Mexican standoff in a Tarantino film.

Then, summit bliss at 9,009 feet. “Wow!” Nothing more needs to be said. The mountains tell the rest of the story around Martin. His breath hangs like mist in the cold air, and the silence lingers long after.

There are three lines down – three options for finding your own gold. The gentler route follows the ascent route. The north face is steep, largely untouched and a thrill for experts. Or the sunny south face, where only the left-hand line leads safely past the rocks.

But the real gold rush lies elsewhere. It’s the moment just before you drop in. That moment of silence that lingers when everything else has been said. With a faint echo of Neil Young in your head: “Gold rush, go find your fortune – but don’t you lose your soul.”