IF THE DEVIL COULD SKI
This year saw the return of the Inferno: the legendary event that brings devillish antics to the Swiss Alps. Will Robson reports on the world’s longest amateur downhill race
WORDS AND PHOTOS WILL ROBSON
Not to be outdone by a mere pandemic, the legendary Inferno went ahead this season with the full complement of 1,850 signing up to the world’s longest amateur downhill race.
Gathering in the Swiss village of Mürren, which sits atop the vertiginous cliffs of the Lauterbrunnen Valley in the Bernese Oberland, competitors at this 78th edition of the race were restricted to a programme of racing only; Covid putting paid to official festivities, such as the traditional burning of the Devil effigy.
After keenly contested giant slalom and cross-country ski races, the last of the Inferno races – and the main event of the four-day festival – is the Saturday downhill.
British ski racing pioneer Arnold Lunn staged the first version of this modern slalom race here 100 years earlier, and although today’s Inferno is a Swiss-run affair, the spirit of Arnold is very much alive, not least among the 1,500 members of the Kandahar Ski Club he founded in 1924. About 200 Kandahar racers entered this year’s Inferno, such is the draw of this competitive yet highly social gathering.
With too little snow for a full-length 15km race to the valley floor, this year’s downhill race began as usual at Kleines Schilthorn, just below the 2,190m Schilthorn peak, finishing in Winteregg (1,578m) – a distance of 9.2km and a vertical drop of 1,285m
The day before the race, the village filled with men shouldering unfeasibly long skis, some dating from when 2m skis were not just for downhill racers. And it is mainly men, sadly, with female participation consistently stuck at around 12% of entrants: a particular shame given that four of the 17 competitors in the first race in 1928 were women.
As one of a keen but anxious group of media novice ‘racers’ sitting at the press conference the night before, I listened as PR boss Christoph Egger upped the anxiety with his observation that if the Devil could ski, this would be his first race.
Slogging up the woodcutter’s path: one of the race’s best known challenges
Surprising then, or perhaps not, that of the 1,850 entrants, less than 25% were new to the Inferno. The race-prepared downhill course is not only of inordinate length, but it has uphill sections, providing the sort of challenge that keeps racers coming back for more.
During Friday’s course inspection, Adam, our guide and experienced Inferno racer, pointed out the sections where we might want to push on a bit or, conversely, have a particular care. The race piste was still only semi-prepared, given that Mürren couldn’t exclude everyday skiers from such a long course until 1,850 people were actually hurtling down it.
Back in 1928 there were no groomed pistes, control gates, or official timers. It was as wild as ski racing would ever would be. Today’s race track is professionally prepared, down to blue dye marking the course edge, but that pioneering ‘gung-ho’ spirit of the first Inferno downhill race endures and is perhaps a necessary quality for entrants from as far afield as Australia, and as old as 82.
Having written more about the ‘stoke’ rather than the ‘speed’ side of skiing for the past decade, I found the heady atmosphere of competitive excitement the night before the race slightly alarming. All advice was tuned to achieving the fastest time, and while last-minute skin-tight catsuit loans were still possible, longer skis were not an option, given that every 2m-plus rental ski in the Alps was already in Mürren and assigned to someone else. I would have to make do with my rented a pair of 1.85 GS skis.
Alan, a Scotsman living in Mürren for many years, observed that whatever your time across the line, you’d always look back and recall three or four places where you could have gone faster. The Inferno, then, is forever a work in progress.
By morning, excitement levels had, in my case, subsided to more of a reflective terror. With an early start, we packed into the Schilthornbahn cable car to the top.
We were lucky, before the Schilthornbahn was built in 1965, racers climbed up the evening before from the Allmendhubel mountain station (1,907m) to the Mürren Ski Club’s chalet (2,432m) in the Engetal. Come race day, they donned their touring skis for the final leg to the Schilthorn summit.
Above the forest of tall skis, the cable car speakers began blaring ACDC’s Highway to Hell– perhaps to discourage anyone from just ‘easing out of’ the start gate when the countdown bleeps sounded.
Not feeling up to the hearty breakfast served in the revolving Piz Gloria restaurant, I instead watched fellow Inferno novice Graham Bell go through an extensive and very sensible warm-up routine. I decided to pass on that too, on the basis it wasn’t sufficiently amateur, before heading outside to ski down to the race start 100m below.
Madness it may be, but every year thousands are drawn to this hellish spectacle (lycra optional)
Despite a bib number of 1,825 out of 1,850, our privileged media status meant we were among the first 50 launched from the start hut (with just a 12-second interval between racers, there can be up to 100 on the course at any one time). With a singular lack of gung-ho-ness, for someone who has actually been to Kandahar, I pushed out through the start gate, turned onto the first pitch and immediately put in a couple of GS turns, gauging when I should let the skis run straight down to the long traverse ahead.
Turns out I shouldn’t have put in any turns at all – I had to skate and puff my way to the top of the rise at the end of the traverse, before semi-tucking, Gore-Tex strumming in the slipstream, for the next stretch of a long but relatively easy downhill.
A few steeper pitches followed under the Muttlerenhorn, some ending in sharp turns onto the switchback track that zigzagged down the mountain, before I swept down towards the infamous hard left turn in front of spectators who’d taken the Allmendhubel train up specially to see someone get it all wrong. But taking the turn at speed is no mere crowd-pleaser.
Hurtling down to a right bend at the bottom, you see the woodcutter's path snaking away uphill for a few hundred metres. Carrying speed is the key to minimising the slog. Pausing briefly at the top of said climb to take stock of my oxygen debt, the rest of the race ran on uneventfully until the very end where I glided to a halt 20 metres short of the finish and tramped over the line, people turning away at my approach, lest their initial encouragement degenerate into a slow handclap.
My time? Well, and this is the thing about the Inferno, there is nothing but your time. Everything else is excuses. My time had a certain tragic symmetry: placing 1,331 in a time of 13 minutes 31 seconds. And it wasn’t even 10am.
I hurried back to Mürren for my camera and took the Allmendhubel train up to watch the remaining racers give it their all. One skied past on one ski: his time a mere two minutes slower than mine. I shouldn’t have looked. The winning time was seven minutes 13 seconds. Madness.
Madness maybe but, as my lactic acid and adrenaline drained away, another ACDC track came to mind as I saw elated racer after racer scream past: “hell ain’t a bad place to be!'‘
Alan was spot on about looking back at where I could have done better, but I’d say that more fundamentally, if you’re fit and a competent skier at speed, wear the catsuit and ski some Super G skis. It’s not so much to match the terminal velocity of real racers, it’s that your velocity won’t terminate so early on the uphill sections. Which seems to be where most time is lost or gained.
The Inferno is one of a kind, evoking a fierce loyalty from its participants, who live for testing themselves against the clock in this beautiful corner of the Swiss Alps; and in case the Devil is already whispering in your ear, all the info on how to enter next year’s race is listed down below. But prepare to be hooked – after all, the Inferno is a work in progress...
Will takes a breather at the end of the race
Factfile
The 2023 Inferno is likely to run from 18-21 January. To apply to enter visit inferno-muerren.ch. Entry is open to all strong skiers born before 2005 and costs CHF70 per person for the downhill or CHF100 for all three races. Insurance is the responsibility of entrants (check out the Ski Club’s insurance options for entering the Inferno at skiclub.co.uk).
The Inferno is limited to 1,850 entrants drawn from 2,500-3,000 applications. Members of the Kandahar Ski Racing Club based in Mürren may apply through kandahar.org.uk.
To book accommodation visit Mürren Tourism at muerren.swiss, and for flights, rail and transfers visit myswitzeerland.com
25 INFERNOS AND COUNTING…
Arnie Wilson chats with race veteran Caroline Stuart-Taylor…
Caroline Stuart-Taylor, for years the Ski Club’s Chief Executive, looks forward to the annual Inferno race – and with good reason. She is one of its most celebrated competitors. After her 25th race in January 2020, Caroline was the first British woman to achieve the Double Diamond Devil award, given to racers who’ve completed a minimum of 24 races and accrued a certain number of points.
“I was excited, as I thought I might be the first female to get a Double Diamond Devil,” says Caroline, who was the Ski Club’s Chief Executive from 1996 to 2012. “But it turned out I was only the second woman to get the award – the first female racer pipping me to the post by just one year. But I was the first British woman!”
In 2010 the organisers introduced an Over 50s Ladies category, and that year Caroline came second in that category, which she followed with a second in 2011 and a third in 2012. It’s clear she has a wildly competitive nature, which is no doubt why she was drawn to the Inferno in the first place. Facing a journey of nearly 10 miles, covering 1,990 vertical metres, and with plenty of uphill slogs, how does Caroline prepare mentally just before the race?
“I stay pretty mentally focused. Most of the serious competitors are battling in silence with pre-race nerves, while everyone anticipates their run. Skiers in catsuits are busy stretching and there’s a real tension in the air. I grab a quick cola and some chocolate to get some last-minute energy!” Perhaps it’s that combination of sugar aiding endurance and being so mentally focused that is the key to Caroline's success. After all, as she explains: “Despite the course demanding downhill turning technique and fast gliding, mental stamina can be the key to a fast time.”
The race lasts between 13 and 45 minutes. “I’ve done the full-length race in just under 20 minutes,” says Caroline. So will she be hanging up her catsuit, or will we see Caroline at another Inferno? “Never say never!”