Portuguese 
English 
Spanish 
7 min of reading 
2 comments 
In An Annual High-Risk Crossing, Pastors from South Tyrol Drive One Hundred Sheep Across Glaciers Over 2,800 Meters Between Italy and Austria, Cross Borders Over Bridges and Unstable Snow, and Maintain a Tradition Recognized as a UNESCO World Heritage Under Threat from Wolves, Avalanches, Sudden Storms, and Falls.
This season, in June, pastors from South Tyrol resumed leading around 100 sheep along the slopes of the Alps, starting from Italian valleys at about 800 meters altitude, where the animals have grazed since April 25, to the alpine passes already within Austria, on a route that exceeds 2,800 meters and crosses glacier sections.
Recognized by UNESCO as a World Heritage, this ancient transhumance crosses ice, turbulent rivers, and a national border while facing concrete risks: at the end of the 1970s, a snowstorm took down about 70 sheep from a ravine, and only in 2023, attacks from an estimated contingent of 80 wolves caused the state to pay nearly 100,000 euros in compensation.
An Alpine Ascent of Over 3,000 Meters and a UNESCO Title
The route these pastors take every year includes more than 3,000 meters of ascent through rough terrain, with snow, ice, loose rocks, and crossings over glacial rivers.
-
Where there was only sand and wind at 40 degrees, China built a megacity of 500,000 inhabitants with farms, wineries, and universities in the middle of the desert using melted glacier water from hundreds of kilometers away.
-
Theories about UFOs have resurfaced strongly after an aerospace scientist and a general linked to the Roswell case mysteriously disappeared in the United States within a few months, and even the FBI was called in to investigate.
-
Neither in the refrigerator nor in the fruit bowl: this is the correct way to store lemon.
-
It has only 11 thousand residents: Brazilian Tuscany impresses everyone with mountains of 1,900 meters and wide views of valleys.
This is not a symbolic walk: each stage requires planning, coordination, and experience accumulated over generations.
The practice, known as Alpine Transhumance, is now recognized as a World Heritage by UNESCO, precisely for combining traditional sheep husbandry, sustainable landscape use, and cross-border cooperation between Italy and Austria.
For the pastors of South Tyrol, it is the official proof that what has always been “just the family way of life” has become a global reference for mountain culture.
The crossing also has an ecological impact.
Without the flock, the alpine pastures would quickly be overtaken by dense vegetation, disrupting the balance of typical high-mountain plants.
The sheep maintain the mosaic of open pastures that supports local biodiversity, while also ensuring meat and a minimal economic return to the communities.
Pastors from South Tyrol Between Italy and Austria
The starting point is in the valleys of South Tyrol, on the Italian side.
There, pastors like Thomas gather the sheep over several days, rounding up scattered animals to form the flock of about 100 heads that will complete the crossing to the Eartstal valley in Austria.
Experienced pastors divide the route into stages, alternating ascents, crossings, and overnight stays in deactivated ski stations outside the season.
The first major goal is the summit cross in Tinurer, at about 2,800 meters. After about three hours of climbing, the break is short.
The descent that follows, through steep and unstable terrain, is described by the pastors as almost more exhausting than the ascent itself.
Still, everyone knows that this routine repeats year after year and that a single slip can be enough to end human and animal lives in seconds.
Along the way, transhumance crosses a national border.
In one of the most sensitive areas, the pastors must lead the flock over a narrow suspended bridge, where the flow of animals must be strictly controlled to avoid panic and falls into the river.
The rule is clear: few animals at a time, always moving forward, never stopping over the span.
Dangerous Work, Short Income, and the Weight of Tradition
For young Marcos, 25, this is not a tourist spectacle, but work.
He is hired by about 40 different breeders to take care of the sheep during the summer in a grazing area that reaches 1,000 hectares in the high mountains, at over 2,400 meters altitude.
In winter, he needs to seek other sources of income, as a shepherd’s salary does not support his family year-round.
Being an alpine shepherd today means accumulating risks of rockslides, falls on slopes, and lightning, without the counterpart of a substantial income.
The pastors themselves admit that, economically, sheep farming is almost a hobby.
The wool barely covers costs, and what comes in from the meat scarcely covers maintenance expenses.
Most supplement their budget with parallel jobs, such as plumbing, masonry, ski resort work, or temporary work in other rural activities.
Yet, no one wants to abandon transhumance.
For families like Marcos’s and his brother Johan’s, continuing to move the sheep up the mountain and down the valley means carrying on a legacy that comes from their grandparents.
They explicitly state they work so that “those who come after us still have something,” even knowing that living solely from the sheep is no longer possible.
Wolves, Bears, Avalanches, and Weather That Changes Three Times a Day
The obstacles are not limited to the terrain.
In recent decades, the return of natural predators to the mountains has added another layer of risk.
Local estimates point to about 80 wolves in South Tyrol, in addition to bears that have been observed more frequently.
In 2023, attacks on herds caused the government to pay nearly 100,000 euros in compensations to breeders.
Veteran pastors warn that if the number of attacks increases, the feasibility of transhumance itself may be compromised.
In their view, a predator attacking unchecked can “break” the fragile economic balance of the activity, discouraging younger individuals from continuing.
On top of that, the mountain climate complicates the situation even further: field reports indicate that up high, the weather can change three times a day, alternating between clear skies, strong winds, snow, and fog in just a few hours.
There are tragic precedents.
In the late 1970s, a sudden snowstorm caused about 70 sheep to fall off the trail and die.
Episodes like this remain present in collective memory and influence operational decisions, such as delaying the ascent when there is too much snow in June or altering the route to avoid sections at risk of avalanche.
Each route decision is a continuous negotiation between tradition, safety, and the real conditions of the mountain.
A Routine of Solitude Watching 100 Sheep in the High Mountains
After the long journey up, the work of the pastors changes form, but not intensity. Marcos, for example, spends weeks in an isolated cabin, accompanied only by the dog and around 100 sheep.
The structure is simple, with a gas stove, running water, basic electricity, and an extra bed for occasional visitors.
He describes the mornings in silence, with coffee and a view of the valley, as one of the highlights of the job.
Every day he takes different routes to check if the animals are well, if there are any injuries, and if the flock has not dispersed into dangerous areas.
One of the less visible but most important tasks is distributing salt.
At the beginning of the season, a helicopter brings about 15 kilograms of table salt to the top, which Marcos spreads in various places.
The mineral supplements the sheep’s diet and helps keep them concentrated in certain areas.
Before becoming a shepherd, Marcos trained as a mason but left the construction site for the mountains.
He says he likes to see the lambs arrive small in spring and, in autumn, return larger, stronger, with plenty of wool and good weight.
For him, following this complete cycle of animal growth is the main emotional reward of a job that pays little and demands much.
Brothers in Different Valleys and a Tradition That Endures
While Marcos watches over the flock in the high area, his brother Johan takes care of animals on the Italian side, further down in the Schnalstal valley, sleeping at home and dividing his time between farming, shepherding, and working in a ski resort in winter.
They hardly see each other during the summer; when they meet, they quickly talk about the sheep, exchange impressions about the weather, and go their way.
For Johan, working in the fields of South Tyrol is the only way of life that makes sense.
He claims that by climbing the mountain, he can “leave the stress behind” and that seeing healthy, well-fed animals is enough justification to continue.
At the same time, he acknowledges he relies on supplementary income to maintain the property and support the family.
The two brothers represent a generation of pastors that needs to balance tradition and pragmatism.
They participate in associations of sheep and goat breeders that organize transhumance, share costs and responsibilities, and train young talents.
The hope is that this renewal will be enough to keep the activity alive, as long as risks such as predator attacks and extreme weather events remain under some degree of control.
The Long Descent, the Final Accounting, and the Future of Transhumance
At the end of summer, the work reverses.
Pastors and sheep leave the alpine meadows and head back to the valley.
The operation repeats many of the challenges of the ascent: crossing the suspension bridge, steep sections where a fall can be fatal, risk of sudden weather changes.
In one of the recent returns, fog, rain, and cold wind accompanied the entire more than eight-hour walk to the bottom of the valley.
This time, the final numbers were considered excellent: only two animals dead throughout the season and no fractures or injuries during the descent.
The treasurer of the association checked each flock before declaring that everything had gone well.
For the pastors, the relief is visible, but the conclusion is always the same: “we’ll do it again next year.”
With the tradition now registered by UNESCO, with wolves and bears back in the mountains, and with youth divided between urban jobs and rural life, the alpine transhumance of South Tyrol becomes a living test of balance between economy, culture, and nature.
In your opinion, should the pastors continue risking life and flock on glaciers to maintain this ancient tradition of the Alps, or is it time to rethink this mountain ritual for future generations?
Quando morei na França entre 1975 e 1979 fazendo um doutorado conheci uma pastora que veio da Alemanha a convite do governo francês ela recebia um salário para manter o pastoreio nos Pirineus montanha deserta sem gente ou cultura ou população. Desde a época de Carlos Magno que havia a preocupação geo política de ocupação de área desabitada. Antes da 2a guerra a frança vhamou colonos italianos para ociparemmo Gers.ou
Simplesmente, fantástico!!!