La Bestia

The night without the moon is a large, heavy, dark cloak. A cloak that shrouds the Bernina Pass in silence. Only now and then can the wind be heard, hissing and howling, singing and whispering. There are only a few meters of altitude separating the top of the pass from the "Ospizio Bernina" train station. But they seem infinitely far apart on this night. The snow is several meters deep, soft and swallows up every step before spitting it out again sluggishly. In the darkness, "la Bestia" is said to be waiting, the beast. The name is hard for the affectionate, proud, admiring tone with which it is pronounced. By RhB employees, railroad enthusiasts, technology fans, those who marvel as they travel through the snowy landscape over the Bernina Pass in winter and perhaps catch a glimpse of "la Bestia", one of the Bernina milling machines. Two of them are in operation; they can hurl eight and a half tons of snow per hour in a high arc, up to forty metres, clearing a six-metre-wide track. Maintaining the railroad line over the Bernina Pass in winter would be much more difficult without them. Light penetrates the darkness and shows the way to the Ospizio. And at some point, voices too. The clatter of snow shovels. The day begins at night on the Bernina Pass. Because the tracks have to be cleared of the snow from the night before the first train can make its way through the snow-covered postcard at six o'clock. A logistical egg dance. "Dirigente" is the name given to the rail service manager. Around 20 workers are on duty on the Bernina Pass during heavy snowfall. The first shift starts at four o'clock in the morning and continues throughout the day.