I’ve been watching it on TV for years, with growing fascination: the combination of two sports, neither of which is easy on its own. Fast cross-country skiing, called skating, plus shooting, that is, biathlon.

I’ve been downhill skiing for decades, but I’ve also done classic cross-country skiing from time to time. But never skating, and I’ve never shot in my life. Not even at a fair. But that shouldn’t stop me from taking a biathlon taster course.

So now I’m standing in Lenzerheide, Switzerland, under a sign that says “Home of the Shooting Stars”. A promising greeting. Coach Stefan Martz, who is only called by his first name here, where everyone is on first-name terms, explains everything in detail.

It doesn’t sound too complicated, at least in theory. Here the rifle, there five targets, you have to hit them, then they fold down. So I lie down on my stomach on the mat provided. Beginners are allowed to shoot with a support aid, do not have to hold the rifle hands-free. Push in the magazine, five shots are in it, pull a lever, forcefully push another piece of metal forward. aim, hit.

That’s the idea. In practice, however, there are pitfalls. Since I can’t see well with my right eye, I get a left-hand gun. This feels twisted as a right-hander. I aim as instructed. first shot. Not hit. Four rounds left in the magazine. Zero hits. I have to laugh. I hadn’t imagined it to be so disastrous. Second Magazine. five shots All next to it.

But I don’t want to throw the gun in the snow so quickly. Or rather: the small caliber rifle. Competition weapons must weigh between 3.5 and 7.5 kilograms. Because you have to carry the gun around, professionals go for the lightest. Mine is 10 pounds, good for aiming, hard to hold. After each shot must be reloaded. Unfortunately, magnifying lenses are not permitted. So you only look through two rings, which are congruent in the best case.

“Schnufa, snufa – and then tap the pressure point on the rifle.” Says Stefan. So breathe. I’m swapping the rifle, want to try it with the right eye and the right hand. No chance, I can hardly see anything. But rather with the left. Third Magazine.

The trainer now unpacks the barracks courtyard sound. “Aim, faster, we’re in competition here!” Again no hit. It smokes and smells like on New Year’s Eve. Fourth Magazine. Stefan calls to a colleague over everyone present: “She has already missed three magazines and never hit one. I don’t see what she’s doing wrong.”

Holy anger grips me. I’m so angry that I hold my breath, aim again: hit. Next shot: hit. Third shot: rivet. Fourth shot: hit. Stefan applauds. Fifth shot: nothing.

I must have aimed too high before. Come on, next magazine, give it to me! I score four hits. Not bad. But of course that was the easiest exercise. Now I’m supposed to buckle up the skis. And then kneel down on knock-knees. So I’m lying face down on the snow with skis on my feet and knees twisted.

My orthopedist would be appalled. But I score again three times. I think okay. Then Stefan sends me to run a lap. I muddle around the field in a kind of skating style, arrive at the shooting range breathing heavily, throw myself flat again. Three hits. Go then! Later, friends ask me if it wasn’t really loud. Amazingly no. It actually just pops.

Next level. Shoot while standing. Stefan warns me. Most wouldn’t hit anything the first time. His tip: as soon as you have your sights set on the window, pull the trigger. “The longer you aim, the worse it gets.” Stefan demonstrates it, hitting four out of five times. Which annoys him a bit.

Now I should stand up. Not facing the targets, but rotated 90 degrees, right hip forward. I aim the rifle, cradling it firmly in my left shoulder, right elbow resting on right hip. I aim Load through, look through the holes, it’s a wobble.

When the disk is in front of my eye, I pull the trigger. Nothing. But then – I score twice! Stefan no longer believes that I’ve never shot before. Ha! My anger after the initial rivets probably helped. Even if, viewed soberly, the combination of anger and a gun doesn’t seem optimal.

How did people come up with the idea of ​​shooting into the winter landscape with skis on their feet? The beginnings are very far back: In Scandinavia, 5000-year-old cave paintings show people hunting on skis, with bows and arrows. In the 18th century, biathlon became a military sport in northern Europe.

For a long time it remained a soldier’s competition. It was not until 1954 that the International Olympic Committee recognized it as a sport, and in 1958 the first World Championships were held in Austria. In 1960 in Squaw Valley, biathlon became Olympic, at least for men. It wasn’t until 1992, in Albertville, that female athletes also took part. Surprisingly, biathlon became a popular winter sport, especially in Germany – in front of the television. Up to six million watch competitions, far more than downhill races.

You can try out the sport yourself in many winter sports resorts, for example in the Allgäu, in South Tyrol or here. The Roland Arena in Lenzerheide, which opened in 2013, is the only biathlon facility in Switzerland that is suitable for the World Cup. In February 2025, the World Cup will take place here. While I’m struggling, there are a lot of people around, relaxing on cross-country skis, a 56-kilometer network of trails runs through the forest.

On the second day, coach Markus Schüppach teaches me a few more subtleties. Again I lie on the ground, again with skis, I don’t think about getting up from this position for the time being. The rifle rests on the buck. And it’s like the day before. Sometimes I hit four out of five times. Then not at all. “But if so, then always straight to the point,” says Markus.

Speaking of shooting – what do the pros actually do with their guns? Do they have a gun license? Mark shakes his head. It’s different in Switzerland anyway, every respectable citizen can buy guns and ammunition. And store at home. Even the army weapons of the militiamen. It’s not that easy in Germany. You need a gun license. You can take the rifle home with you, but not the ammunition.

My personal conclusion: Since the results are so varied, I believe that aiming and shooting is not the whole point. Rather, it seems to be about controlled breathing and focus. Zen and the art of hitting the mark. Maybe I’ll try archery in the summer. Doesn’t look difficult either.

Switzerland: One-hour biathlon taster course in the Roland Arena, 55 francs (about 56.50 euros), as individual lessons 99 francs, biathlon-arena-lenzerheide.ch, myswitzerland.com

Germany: Trial course (1.5 to two hours) in Nesselwang in the Allgäu, 39 euros, trendsportzentrum-allgaeu.de

South Tyrol: private lessons for beginners in Antholz, 65 euros (each additional person plus 25 euros), langlauf-antholz.it

Austria: Two-hour workshop in Seefeld in Tirol, 75 euros, xc-academy.com

Participation in the trip was supported by Switzerland Tourism and Biathlon Arena. You can find our standards of transparency and journalistic independence at go2.as/independence

Winter is approaching and in some places the ski areas have already opened. Snow cannons are used to provide enough snow. But they are real power guzzlers. The result is higher prices.