This article was produced by National Geographic Traveller (UK).

Being dropped off by a helicopter 2,200m up a snow-covered mountainside is a rush of noise and chaotic motion. “I can’t be sure what’s underneath, so I’m not going to land,” our pilot, Detlef Gensel, says over the radio as we approach.

Instead, he says, he’ll hover with just the tips of the helicopter’s skids touching the snow, leaving the engine running. We’ll have to move quickly. As the door opens, the high-pitched whine of the cockpit is replaced by the full-throated jackhammer thwack of the rotors. Scrambling out of our seats, we step down the six inches that separate the skids from the snow and huddle in a low crouch, covering our faces with goggles and gloved hands to protect them from the stinging flakes whipped up

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