With the cows up close!

Living Tradition: Lots of people talk about it, Alois "Luis" Federspiel from Nauders lives it. Every summer, the 24-year-old spends his time on the Zadres Alm, herding cows. Why does a young person willingly give up a career, comfort, and Wi-Fi?

On beautiful days, it’s a storybook hike to Luis's summer residence. The journey starts with a rugged drive from Nauders up to Parditsch, past the inn, and many dusty curves later, past the Labaunalm, a popular stop for hikers and mountain bikers. The hike takes about an hour, passing through rocky terrain and alpine roses until the roof of the Zadres Alm comes into view. Luis’s home from July to September.

After a steep descent, we finally stand at the gate of the fence surrounding the wooden hut. The two Border Collies, Maya and Ella, greet visitors exuberantly. "My best employees," Luis introduces them. The brother-in-law of Arabella’s junior chef Christoph looks just like one imagines a shepherd, only younger: strong build, leather pants, full beard, alert eyes. At 24, he maintains an important profession that fewer and fewer people are willing to undertake. Why you, Luis?

"I always knew I wanted to do this," Luis says in his deep Nauders dialect. As a child, he helped his relatives on the farm and was familiar with livestock from a young age. He trained as a cook, then as a butcher. He also passionately practices hunting. There’s no contradiction, as long as you have respect for living beings. This means, for instance, utilizing the entire animal and respecting the cycle of life and death. Luis sees shepherding as a balance to his butcher job, which he does in Switzerland during the winter months. Even though he earns less on the alm, it’s where he truly thrives. You can't learn shepherding, he believes. You need to have the sense and the calm in your blood. The conviction: "It’ll be alright."

In 2024, Luis will spend his fifth summer as a shepherd, his fourth on the Zadres Alm. Here, he ensures that the ancient tradition of alpine farming continues. Grazing the animals relieves the farmers in the valley and prevents valuable pasturelands above the tree line from becoming overgrown. For the shepherd, the day begins at six in the morning. First, Luis grabs the "Gugger," a small binocular, steps out of the hut, and checks on the cattle. Are they all there? Have any moved too far up towards the cross overnight? If so, he quickly sets out to bring them back. Otherwise, there’s time to lie down for another half hour. It's less comfortable in bad weather when the Gugger only shows grey. Then Luis has to go looking for the animals in fog, rain, and wind.

195 head of Tyrolean Fleckvieh and Grauvieh were entrusted to the young Nauderer at the end of May.

Luis takes all sorts of moods in stride. His calm is contagious as we chat on the wooden bench in front of the alm. There’s no stress, no constant phone checking or jumping up. Like a bear, Luis sits in the sun and explains that he only hikes up to the peak once a day, where there’s internet reception. Then he scrolls through the most important news for a few minutes and realizes he hasn’t missed anything. To make phone calls, you also have to move away from the hut. Do the days get long without entertainment? "No, no," laughs Luis. Even after the first morning check, there's always something to do. Chopping wood, various repair tasks, taking care of the chickens, checking the animals again in the late afternoon, cooking… The days flow in a wonderfully calm yet never boring rhythm until the Almabtrieb in autumn. Luis, will we still see you on the alm in thirty years?
"I think so."