Some things are on your bucket list for days, weeks, months, or even years… some for only hours.
I first heard about the Inferno Ski Race the day before I subsequently received a last-minute alternate bib.
The Inferno is an anomaly — it is the longest ski race in the world yet designed entirely for amateur enthusiasts. Starting from the Schilthorn at 2,970m and finishing, when conditions permit, in Lauterbrunnen at 800m the race is a test of endurance, pride, and style.
To arrive at the cradle of this race, participants make their way to Mürren, the quintessential Swiss chocolate box mountain town, a hamlet made famous by the 1969 James Bond film On Her Majesty’s Service. From this vehicle-free village, one can proudly view many of Switzerland’s most iconic rockfaces including the Eiger and Jungfrau.
This year the Inferno Race celebrated its 80th edition, coinciding with the centennial anniversary of the Kandahar Ski Club, the proud hosts and originators of the race. While skiers these days are transported up via two high-flying cable cars to the Piz Gloria, the early editions of the race found daring skiers climbing to the summit the evening before the race.
The Inferno Race was held for the first time in 1928 with 17 competitors. Today it is one of the oldest surviving ski races in the world. Sir Arnold Lunn of Britain - the father of Alpine ski racing - founded both the Arlberg Kandahar and the Inferno Race. While the history of the race is a fascinating read, the modern version is a daredevil boondoggle for skiers from around the world.
Mürren fills up the week leading up to the race with hardened participants trading tips and course secrets with the modesty of a country mouse who finds a leftover wheel of d’Affinois. Inferno cache is well worn on the everyman’s sleeve… the discussion of course details borders on pedantic. Unlike astute participants who spent the prior days taking inspection runs training on the course, I arrived late on the eve of the race in a torrential downpour balancing a blissful mindset composed of ignorance, confidence, and a slight note of defiance.
Preparing to ski run the Inferno sight unseen was not intentional, however, it left other participants I encountered perplexed as they smiled and seemed to pray for me silently. As a newbie, I was given a bib number towards the back of the pack where one must wait all day as the course gets tracked out by those who have paid their dues and can commence apres well before midday.
The village’s accommodations are lathered with charming patina, yet I was fortunate to stay at the Drei Brige. The Drei is a hotel recently opened by Ramdane Touhami, a French-Morroccan designer, that falls directly out of an @accidentlywesanderson coffee-table book. This is a notable inclusion as it is the most delightful hotel I have stayed at in quite some time.
Thankfully, race day was filled with brilliant sunshine and I was able to borrow a speed suit from a kind Kandahar racer to avoid looking like even more of a rookie with my stylish yet non-aerodynamic backcountry ski kit.
Arriving at the start gate is a bit of a circus. Hundreds of anxious participants queue to get zipped up to 3000m where there is a relentless push that launches skiers into the course every seven seconds with the precision of a Swiss-made watch. The mood is a tender mix of competitive spirit and silent fear that accurately summarizes the current state of human affairs.
Finally, my time had come, and as I pushed towards the beeping countdown slot, a bottle of green schnapps appeared dangling from the gate. Offering a final gesture of defiance, I swigged down a gulp just before launching into a four-minute tuck.
The course is designed in a way that rewards you for not turning except for a in few key moments. After the agonizing initial schuss, you arrive at the steepest part of the course where turning seems insignificant. Given my late start time, I was also challenged by a relentless minefield of fallen “skiers” which added another layer to this Mario Kart on snow. Avoiding this colorful bouquet of humans is challenging but also amusing.
Beneath the graveyard of skittles, strategy comes into play as one must navigate switchbacks that can make or break your race time; experience here plays out in spades. After the switchbacks skiers descend upon the infamous “woodchoppers”, the primary uphill section of the race where early participants await you comfortably numb from their efforts coupled with quite a few libations. Adrenaline kicks in and once you overcome this incline, it is time to gas it to the finish line.
Many would argue that the Inferno begins after the race. Apres is a day-long affair that culminates with an Oktoberfest-like celebration in the Mürren sports centre. A predominately male affair, you can imagine the bravado that transpires.
The Inferno ski race is a glistening reminder that traditions should be preserved, and that there is truly no more enjoyable moments in life than healthy competition amongst friends.