Ski mountaineering on the snowy slopes of Svaneti

Svan Hospitality
A plastic bowl, flour, water. Bare hands mix carefully, while the local cheese—a kind of fresh curd, more than just zero-kilometer—is crumbled without much precision. Under the watchful eyes of Gianni and Franco, the lady continues preparing the Khachapuri, considered Georgia’s national dish: a cheese-filled flatbread baked directly on a wood-burning stove.

With the Family
The hospitality of this family was exceptional: a house lost in the snow at the edge of the forest, reached by a road that was nothing short of prohibitive, squeezed between snow walls and clogged with skinny cows vainly searching for dry grass in the winter landscape.

The camping sign prompts us to ask if they’ll sell us a beer to end our ski day on a high note: they immediately invite us into their dining room—which also serves as a kitchen—with the inevitable little altar packed with Orthodox icons.

Here, the magic of this people’s hospitality comes to life: in no time, a lavish lunch is served—forget the beer!

Toward Ushba
The day in the village of Matzeri began with a beautiful skin up the mountain, guiding us through a spectacular pine forest.

The branches, still embroidered with fresh snow, frame the majestic view of Ushba: 4710 meters of grandeur, towering above a maze of rocky buttresses, carved by snowy gullies and hanging glaciers.

Further on, the gaze gets lost in the vastness of the Caucasus Mountains, which seem to have no end.

The Vastness of the Caucasus
“Vastness” is truly the word that best suits these places.

You hear it often echoing in conversations and comments, as the panoramas unfold before us: endless sequences of snow-covered peaks and ridges, sinuous buttresses plunging into deep valleys covered in dense pine forests.

Here and there, remote villages in this wild nature—all inhabited.

Livestock roam freely through the streets, and children, early in the morning, wait outside their homes for a ride to school.

It’s a way of life that recalls the lives of our grandparents in the Alpine valleys.

Today, compared to the comforts of the Western world and the depopulation of our own valleys, it seems almost impossible.

And yet, here they endure.

Men and animals live with little, facing a winter that is anything but merciful, waiting for spring with patience and tenacity.

Today’s trip was peaceful and scenic, arriving at a peak surrounded by the immensity of the Caucasus.

Then the descent: after the first open slopes, we entered a forest of sparse and twisted birches, ancient beyond measure.

Lower down, back among the fir trees, with steep gradients and fallen trunks that became natural ramps for jumps into the snow.

Snow so powdery that it welcomed the skis with softness, accompanying them through ever-new turns… all the way to the village!

Turns and Powder
The amount of snow in the Svaneti mountains is truly impressive.

Here, when the walls at the sides of the road barely reach a meter in height, the locals call it a “dry winter.”

Roads covered in snow and ice are the rule, making a good 4×4 essential.

And then there is it: Powder, that blessed light substance that skiers adore for the feelings of weightlessness and freedom it provides.

It is never lacking here.

In the worst-case scenario, you just need to head into a north-facing valley to find yourself before immense slopes, dizzying spines that plunge from the peaks amidst plays of light and shadow, and fir forests laden with snow that offer daring lines and turns always cushioned by the soft layer.

Peaks and Mysteries
Most of these peaks do not even appear on maps—which are still surprisingly imprecise today.

The mountains of Svaneti are made of deep, often winding valleys, and at their base hide improbable villages, where small clusters of people incredibly manage to survive through winters so long they make you doubt it is even possible.

Men and beasts get by in a harsh, severe nature that grants no respite.

The mountains of Georgia offer incredible skiable terrain, much of it shrouded in an aura of mystery because it is difficult to reach from the valley floor.

You find yourself in a territory that invites you to return, even in other seasons, to understand it better, to see if with the arrival of spring it will be easier to venture into those grand valleys that seem so remote and inaccessible.

Old House
The driver starts the engine and pulls onto the icy road… and crosses himself.

Well, let’s hope for the best!!

In these lands, permeated with religiosity since ancient times, the gesture of crossing oneself is a constant: it is repeated at every cross and votive shrine along the road.

In just over an hour, crossing deep valleys, passes, and very poor villages with chimneys smoking in the cold morning that has just begun, we arrive in Ushguli.

A mythical place, located near a pass that is closed during the winter.

Just south of the village, a vast horseshoe-shaped basin, surrounded by peaks just over three thousand meters high, offers north-facing slopes with dozens of potential lines to ski.

Just looking at it, the imagination and the hunger for powder turns get lost among a thousand bumps, ridges, gullies, and more or less steep slopes, descending from peaks with almost unpronounceable names: Gvibari, Gorvashi, Mount Rama.

To the north, the spaces expand and become enormous: high moraines lean against rocky buttresses, between which hanging glaciers plunge.

Sunlight floods the peaks of Shkhara, which at 5193 meters is the highest peak in Georgia.

We settle into the Old House, a charming guest house that, like the ancient dwellings, is located next to a Svan tower, right in the heart of the village.

Here too, the Georgian kindness—to which we are now accustomed—is at home and continues to pleasantly surprise.

Enough talk: we set off toward a beautiful nameless peak overlooking the village.

With every kick turn, the panorama becomes more grand.

The wall of Shkhara blocks the view to the north, but then Elbrus—the giant of the Caucasus, entirely in Russian territory—appears in the distance, with its two summit craters reaching 5600 meters.

Tetnuldi Ski Resort
The Tetnuldi ski resort offers infinite spaces for freeriding and ski mountaineering.

With short skins, you can reach hidden valleys, far from the groomed runs, leading to remote villages like Adishi, lost at the bottom of deep valleys.

Located about an hour from Mestia, Tetnuldi represents a wonderful opportunity to “warm up the engines”: here we dedicate ourselves mainly to the descent, letting ourselves be carried away by the snow and the wild landscape that surrounds us.

Laila Peak
The name sounded familiar… perhaps I had read it in some old magazine or book, who knows.

Then, in Mestia, I hear people talking about it in a pub.

I take a look at the maps, do a quick scout by car, and there they are: the Laila peaks stand tall against the sky, suspended above vast pine forests, as elegant as their name.

And so, here we are at the village early in the morning.

The road, covered in at least thirty centimeters of ice, leaves us right in front of the schools, where small groups of colorful children are arriving.

We head up the small road that winds steeply between the houses, passing children on their way to school, people watering livestock, and women busy hanging laundry in the sun.

Then the village ends, and the pine forests envelop the steep slopes, offering a beautiful climb in the shade, which only opens up at the top onto vast and varied slopes, always sustained and occasionally marked by enormous “whale mouths.”

The spaces open up toward the Laila peaks, and we choose a small peak of over three thousand meters as our destination, drawing an elegant track in the untouched mantle.

All around, the panorama fans out with unique photo spots: from the Ushbas, right in front of us, to the distant Shkhara, to Elbrus and beyond.

Just enough time for a few shots and then back down into the powder that wraps around your knees, lifts you at every turn, and welcomes you back softly, launching you into the next near-dive… all the way to the pine forests, to the village, and to the delicious local beer, worthy of a perfect finale.

In Summary
Skiing in a grand and vast environment, with great slopes and infinite skiable lines;

Snow that is practically always powdery even until March on the shaded slopes;

The Ushbas constantly before your eyes (or rather above, much higher up);

The hospitality of the Svan people, which is matched only by the kindness of the people who live here;

The trips start, end, or pass through populated villages almost every time, offering the unique and authentic opportunity to immerse oneself in the local reality;

The adjectives to define the nature of the Georgian mountains: vast, severe, mysterious, complex;

Mestia: a lively town populated by skiers from all over the world;

Ushguli: an isolated village, sometimes unreachable, dotted with dozens of Svan towers. A precious pearl for ski mountaineers and travelers;

Tetnuldi Ski Resort: a great option for freeriding and for days with uncertain weather, together with the small station of Mestia, just a five-minute walk from the Guest House.