Photo Session

"Drop-in in 10 seconds!" I put the radio in my backpack, pick up the camera and double-check the exposure. Through the viewfinder I see Jochen closing his boots, then he drops in. He is doing wide turns, drawing his line into the fresh snow next to a small glacier crevasse; the wind carries his spray away and the morning light touches him softly from the side. That was good! It's the first time Jochen and I have been shooting together. Since we first met years ago it never happened that this freeride "veteran" and myself, the young-gun photographer, ventured into the mountains together. But when the "first Covid winter" came to an end, it finally happened.

We finally went on a trip together spontaneously and with good snow conditions to Austria's Pitztal. Friday afternoon, April 30, 2021: I'm sitting in my office looking through the images of the first mountain bike shoot of the season. The sun is shining through the window and it's warm. Spring is in full swing, and I enjoy the change after spending the past few months in the snow. Winter was great, the conditions in the Tyrolean mountains were outstanding. I had spent more days in the snow than ever before. Yet I'm glad that the season, which has been extraordinary in many respects, has come to an end. Because never before have I experienced the dark side of our sport so intensely and up close, and my inner voice tells me that it's enough for now.

Nonetheless, I check the weather forecast out of habit and it surprises me: 15 to 20 centimeters of fresh snow on the weekend and correspondingly cold at altitude. Immediately, I remember an idea, which I had been carrying around with me for a while. And I spontaneously think of the perfect person to take along. There it is again, this fire, the enthusiasm and the urge to go out in the snow and take more pictures. I get in touch with Jochen Reiser – freerider, ski guide, owner of the "snowacademy" and a veteran of the German freeride scene. We met at a trade show a few years ago in the early days of my photography career. Since then, we have been in contact again and again, and year after year we have firmly resolved to realize a joint photo project.

We had enough ideas and lots of motivation, but it had never worked out – either one of us didn't have time, or the conditions weren't right. But this time, everything seems to be working out: Jochen is not busy, the weather looks promising, and on the phone I immediately notice that the chemistry between us is right and that we have similar ideas. It's freezing cold. We have just reached the Taschachferner glacier at the back of the Pitztal valley in Tyrol and attach the skins to our skis. We already had to cancel plan A: shooting in a small northeast-facing face. Instead, we head to the icefall below Wildspitze, which is well protected by the surrounding peaks and only gets sun relatively late in the day.

One couloir immediately catches my eye; it is bordered on the right by a small icefall and the sun only slightly brushes it. "This is our chance! The light won't get any better today," I call out to Jochen, who is walking a few meters ahead of me. He is also confident that the snow will still be good up there. We briefly discuss the crevasses and agree that the risk is reasonable. I hand Jochen my second radio; then he starts hiking. From now on, every minute counts. The sun rises relentlessly over the mountain, soon the shadows will disappear and the slope would be flooded with light. But Jochen makes fast progress and circles around a steep cliff while I prepare my camera and look for a suitable vantage point for a long-range tele shot.

I cannot make any mistakes now. Exposure, crop, focus; take a breath; hope that the snow is good. We discussed this shot before from below, and I can see Jochen's experience in this business. He knows exactly where to place his turns. With a few long, wide turns, he now draws his line into the fresh snow next to the glacier ice, the wind blowing away his spray. As I press the shutter, I'm deeply satisfied and excited at the same time. After less than 30 seconds the moment is over. Jochen has a big smile on his face as he joins me at my position. High five! It couldn't be going any better. As we continue to climb up towards Petersenspitze, we quickly find the next photo spot.

Given the time of year, shadows are scarce at this hour, but the contrast between the glacier ice and the untouched powder still offers exciting opportunities. Again I explain to Jochen what kind of picture I have painted in my head, and I am thrilled by the energy and passion he brings to the situation. He knows the area like the back of his hand and gives valuable advice on what might work and what might not. For a change, I don't have to do the hiking for the following picture. This time it's the athlete's job, and I wait patiently in the mid-morning sun until Jochen's head reappears a good 15 minutes later at the crest above me.

Since the terrain is extremely bumpy and rolling and he has no clues for orientation, I guide him by radio to the correct drop-in position. Despite the somewhat unstable snow conditions between the mighty ice towers, Jochen lays down a perfect right-hand turn and the shot is a wrap. Now we are entirely in the flow and work our way from spot to spot and shot to shot until the forecasted overcast finally reaches us and the contrast is completely gone. Time to start the long descent down the Taschachferner glacier to our car. We are lucky and only have to remove our skis once for a brief distance, otherwise everything is perfect. What a day!