The skiing was top notch. Six to eight inches of creamy boot-top powder, and long,  steep pitches in a rolling glacial valley in the Silvretta Alps. The kind of effortless turns that make you feel like you’re the best skier on the planet.

A few nights at the Heidelberger Hütte outside of Ischgl, Austria, meant that the sweeping arena of frosty peaks was ripe for the picking. We’d spent the morning exploring a valley behind the Heidelberger Spitze, the namesake peak of the almost 150-year-old mountain hut. Rain had drenched the range just days before, and a 12-inch refresh had swooped in just in the nick of time. We were giddy with good fortune.

“Well, we must return for lunch,” Daniel, an Austrian mountain guide, announced after our best lap yet. “Lunch is down there,” he added, pointing to the hut a few thousand feet below us.

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