There’s something magical about the journey to Kühtai. As our bus ascends from Innsbruck, winding its way along Alpine roads that climb progressively ever higher, there’s a slow transformation from city life to a snow-covered playground.

At 2,020 metres, Austria’s highest skiing village welcomes us with its crystalline air and towering peaks, the perfect stage for our snowshoeing adventure. We meet Nick, our Belgian guide from the aptly-named Follow Me ski school.

We’re in experienced hands – he’s worked in the area for man years and knows the region intimately. His respect for the landscape is also evident and he warns us of heightened avalanche risks, but assures us our route had been carefully chosen.

Strapping on snowshoes was relatively straight-forward. These lightweight contraptions expand our feet like oversized paddles, and the accompanying poles provide us with additional balance.

Nick patiently walked us through the basics, including the all-important art of falling. It seemed comical at first—practising a tumble—but the wisdom of it soon became apparent. Falling correctly could mean the difference between an amusing anecdote and an unfortunate injury. The key, it seems, is to fall forwards rather than sideways.

We set off into the pristine wilderness, the snow crunching beneath our feet. As we ventured further, the snow became deeper, rising from ankle-deep powder to knee-high drifts – but we only realised it once our feet sank unexpectedly! Thankfully, we’re in relatively good shape as we’ve been running parkruns regularly back in the UK, so do not find it too physical.

Our route brought us to a rocky outcrop, a natural perch overlooking the valley below. The view was breathtaking, an endless expanse of white, split only by the road leading back to Innsbruck.

As we arranged ourselves for a photo, the unexpected happened — the snow beneath us gave way. In an instant, two of us are on the floor, revealing a surpisingly deep void below.

There’s no harm done and we have a good chuckle about it, but our eldest is a little stuck and Nick is careful to dig him out, rather than risk dislodging a snowshoe as he pulls his leg up, as that could result in sending it tumbling irretrievably into the depths below. Instead, a slow and deliberate excavation took place, removing snow so his foot could be freed, shoes intact.

Nick kindly re-takes the photo for us as we stand just forward of new-found hole!

With the drama behind us, we pressed on across a snow-covered area where Nick knew there was a stream beneath. He goes first and then has us follow at a distance, one at a time. Thankfully, the snow held firm this time.

We retraced our steps back towards the village, having thoroughly enjoyed our little snowshoeing adventure.

Disclosure: Our trip was sponsored by Innsbruck Tourism.