A year has just passed since Piero Ruffino
and his group of friends, had a story published in the Italian
mountain journal Rivista della Montagna. They opened a window
on the nearly unknown Iranian mountains and what it's like to
telemark there. At the end of the article Piero predicted that
soon he would return to Iran to explore the skiing possibilities
further.
The prophecy told in the last few lines of
Piero’s story soon came to pass: when Silvia informed me
Piero wanted to come back to Iran to see its mountains and ski
resources, beyond the already fairly well known Damavand, and
the popular slopes in front of the capital, I was enthusiastic
and quickly accepted an invitation to join the group.
To tell the truth I didn't know very much
about what I was getting into, what we would be doing, where
we were going, and above all, how we were going to get to the
Iranian mountains. But I was not worried at all, in fact not
knowing the much about our destination and not finding very much
information when I tried only added to the excitement of visiting
an unknown place.
Today I can say I was very lucky because the
answers to all the questions about background, people, mountains,
climate and mountain skiing in Iran were all actually very positive.
Now that I'm here writing I think about Giorgio Daidola and his
wise words in the Rivista, issue number 233, and I thank him.
I thank him because he makes me feel young when I think about
how he wrote that with the passing of time something within himself
has changed, that now, while he's traveling he always his mind
is always on getting back home and that his willingness to travel
decreases day by day. He went on to write that when he was younger
he forgot everything, without blaming himself or feeling guilty
for being away. I say he makes me feel young because, in fact
I forgot everything in those eight days in Iran and I left all
of my cares in the West!
I'm not joking, I think that the true meaning
of what he says is beyond the passing of years and of the changing
of ideas, the answer to this boredom with travel is in what Daidola
went on to say in the article: that the “world is more and
more alike”. Everything, everywhere appears standardized,
adapted and homogenized to the psychotic necessities of modern
times .
For the moment, in Iran this homogenization
doesn't exist. So, it seems strange, but those characteristics
of absolute poverty in economy, politics, life and even tourism,
make it a very interesting place. These considerations are, to
sum it up, part of an answer to the question that was on my mind
before leaving, and maybe a question you might have as well:
with all the mountains in our country, why do we go skiing in
Iran? I say part of an answer because I knew there had to be
more, leading me to travel so far in search of a feeling, the
feeling of being a pioneer.
Our group was established, We would number
four: Piero Ruffino, Roberto Cravero, Silvia Ponzo and I. When
we arrived at Teheran airport, we met Farzhad, our guide, who
Piero had employed on his previous trip. He was a nice and lovely
person who spoke very good English. Not long after our arrival
we we met Reza, in the city square, our personal driver with
his minibus who took us through the whole country for 6 great
days.
Iran is a huge country: three times bigger
than France! To reach the starting point of our trip, a small
village to the south of the ancient city of Isfahan, we had to
travel a whole day, with a break in the old, wonderful capital,
and overnight stay in the Shahar-é-Kord hotel. Here I
started thinking about the war horrors (Iran-Iraq), a long and
meaningless eight years, which finally ended about ten years
ago with a final cost to the country too many lives and millions
out of the national treasury. I suppose that this is just one
of the many downsides to to the twenty plus year old Islamic
Republic, in addition to the other restored, anachronistic, religious
rules.
After having gone through a wonderful, desert
land, we began riding along hills and valleys where, suddenly,
snow appeared and transformed the landscape, like the view of
the high Alps!
We made it to our destination, which was to
be our base of operations for our excursions, arriving about
half past ten in the morning. We were were lodged in a curious,
crumbling building that was built during the time of Shah as
a ski resort. After unpacking our suitcases, we started planing
our first excursion; we climbed the hill close by that crowned
this wide valley, we remained mesmerized by what appeared beyond,
a wide, white, open view crowned by some snowy peaks, ready to
be climbed and skied for the first time!
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At first we did not realize how enormous
the distances are. All this wide open, fantastic area of which
you can see perfectly the terrain, the best slopes, rivers, and
many impressive peaks. Two days later, in a side trip trip by
minibus, we understood that behind these mountains, other wide
valleys and numerous snowy peaks….too many to count! In
fact this is the majestic mountain range, Zagros, that stretches
for hundreds of square kilometers, from the North West to the
South East of Iran. This range holds many peaks, higher than
3500 meters. The highest being Oshturan mountain, at 4070 meters. |
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Perhaps I m stating the obvious when I say
that maps don't exist of this area and that nobody has ever been
to these places in winter. Enthusiastic, we decided to climb
a superb mountain that was right ahead and in front of us, beyond
a valley, crossed by a long, wide river. We started descending
the hill, to cross the wide valley. Only after walking two hours
did we saw our destination more and more distant. This wide valley
was actually a huge white soil, crossed by many and deep inlets,
two of whom are the branches of a full stream of water. The first
branch has a good bridge but the second one, kilometers far,
nothing. What to do? We had to find a way to cross the second
branch or we couldn't go any farther. Without losing courage
or determination we explored the rest of the stream and found
a narrow bend whose edge was lined with square rocks. We thought,
why not try to build a bridge rolling the rocks into the water
and putting them together in the best way? It was a laborious
and long procedure that took about an hour, but in the end we
managed to build a bridge across. We all reached the other side
and a feeling of silent but collective enthusiasm swept over
us.
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So we continued across an immaculate tableland
and after about an hour we reached the beginning of the climb
. It was already three o'clock in the afternoon, it took about
three hours to get there, adding the time spent to build the
bridge. We decided to head back to our camp and try again tomorrow.The
following day at about seven o'clock, we left again with skis
on our packs, heading for the tableau that had no secrets for
us anymore. Finally at ten o'clock we started the climb, deciding
“at the first view” which direction to take. |
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When we got there we saw many rivers and slopes.
A ridge led us to a wide valley, where we found out the beginning
of that final, huge river was still much too distant! Half a
day was gone: with nothing to do, we decided to climb the peak,
similar to the other, which was directly above us. Our guide
was happy: it was the first time he had been on backcountry skis.
to him it seemed like a dream looking back, at the many kilometers
we climbed.
After a long slog lashed by the wind, at one
o'clock, euphoric, I reached the top. Preceding the others by
a few minutes I found myself alone, on superb, white snow below
a beautiful Persian sky. It was spectacular, quiet, remote, unknown,
I truly felt like a pioneer at that moment. And I knew why I
had come.