There it is in front of you, in all its splendour. Notwithstanding your lofty expectations, you are still left speechless when you see it for the first time. The stone pine forest God da Tamangur is as mysterious and impressive as its name. In Europe’s highest continuous stone pine forest, nature is given free rein to flourish. No more trees are felled here, and dead ones are left where they are. The shapely trees make the forest a dream destination for snowshoe hikers, and it is also a place of great symbolic power for locals. The Romansh people sing about this place of power, and it is also the subject of various poems. The God da Tamangur stands for strength, for tenacity and for the will to survive.

“The old forest, which is gradually decaying,
is very much like our beloved language,
which has been pushed back from the wide space it formerly occupied
into the narrowest boundaries of today.
If the Romansh people don’t all do their duty,
it will die out, just like Tamangur.”

Peider Lansel

A woodpecker hammers in the distance, a raven caws and announces the arrival of the group of snowshoers. Chantal Lörtscher and her participants wander meekly through the gnarled, windswept and unkempt trees. Some of these have defied wind and weather as well as extreme temperature fluctuations for almost 800 years. The small group soaks up the magic of the forest at 2,300 metres above sea level before the landscape opens up.

Chantal Lörtscher is an experienced hiking and snowshoe guide. She knows the Via Silenzi she is currently traversing like the back of her hand. She has walked through the untouched winter landscape dozens of times – and each time she discovers something new.

After Alp Astras, the trail passes through a landscape that bears no trace of anything man-made. Snow drifts, a kind of winter desert; an ibex searches for food on a rock face. The group has been walking steadily for hours. They have found their rhythm.

The snowshoers trudge slightly uphill to the Pass da Costainas, the highest point of the day. 

The multi-day snowshoe tour started the day before. The journey from Scuol to S-charl on horse-drawn sleighs was both leisurely and charming. The village is deep in hibernation. During the first few months of winter, not a single ray of sunlight reaches the place. It was not until 6 or 7 February that the first rays penetrated the dining room of the Mayor inn. So Dominique Mayor, who runs the inn, tells us. He is one of two people who live in S-charl all year round and is always there for guests. He never feels lonely; he is very rarely alone. 

“Whether you’re a fox hunter or a snowshoer, everyone comes to us for the peace and quiet.”

Chantal Lörtscher’s group spent the first night at the Mayor. Early the next morning, she stands at the edge of the village and carries out the avalanche transceiver check together with her group’s members. An avalanche transceiver is an essential component of every backpack, along with a shovel and a probe. That is important to Chantal Lörtscher. She plans each tour meticulously and clarifies the snow and avalanche situation in detail, planning the route differently depending on the situation.

Once you leave S-charl behind, it is “as if you have gone away”. Far away from everything. Away from everyday life. There is only the sound of the snowshoes, the glistening snow, an icy stream called Clemgia.

Untamed nature has taken the helm, and Chantal Lörtscher gives it plenty of space. This has an impact on the group. She is mindful.

The participants have also been mindful since being at the Pass da Costainas. Pensive. One with the mountain world in its sparkling winter outfit. From the highest point, the trail leads downhill to the small village of Lü. We are now in the idyllic and remote municipality of Val Müstair. Lü means light. And because there is so little of it at night – Lü is considered one of the places with the lowest levels of light pollution in the world – the stars seem close enough to touch.

The second night is then spent in the lovely Sta Maria at B&B Alpina. The following day is all about wild animals.

Chantal Lörtscher knows exactly where the animals look for food in the winter. But before they get to that, there are still a few metres of ascent to overcome. With the first rays of sunshine, we head back out into the unspoilt winter landscape, past Alp Champatsch and up to Fuorcla Funtana da S-charl. A little later, in the area above PlaundalsBovs, she unpacks her binoculars and a telescope. It is not long before chamois and ibex appear on the rock face, scratching for food or warming themselves in the sun. Chantal Lörtscher’s group marvels at the animals through binoculars. Leaving the wild animals their space, not disturbing them under any circumstances and respecting the wildlife protection zones are very important to her. Suddenly, they spot some big tracks in the fresh snow.

“These are fresh wolf tracks. It must have been here last night.”

The wolf is not the only rare wild animal the group encounters today: suddenly, some bearded vultures circle above the heads of the snowshoers. There is no end to the display of wild animals, but the day itself must eventually draw to a close. As it does so, the group relax at the cosy Hotel SüsomGive on the Ofen Pass.

And at some point the Via Silenzi also comes to an end – although you can extend the tour to be four days long. All that remains is silence. You realise this when you are on the train back to everyday life, if not before, and immediately find yourself wanting to plan your next experience in the “Patgific canton”. However, this silence stays with you for a while. It is a feeling that people like to remember when they are back in civilisation, and they can ground themselves through it.