Amazing St. Moritz and Its Remarkable White Turf Horse Racing

by Roy Brindley, 1 March 2025

Horse racing on St. Moritz’s frozen lake is a fantastic spectacle, offering a unique experience. But is time running out on this feast of opulence? Racecourse junkie Roy Brindley visited the White Turf Festival to ask the question and soak up the atmosphere.

Skijoring, best described as water skiing on ice but powered by a horse and not a speedboat. ? marcelkessler, Pixabay

A Unique Day at the Races on St. Moritz Frozen Lake

The dictionary definition of a pilgrimage is “a journey to a sacred place or shrine, usually for religious reasons.” The same reference book describes the word Mecca as “a metaphor to describe a place that attracts many people or a centre for a particular group or interest.”

Wikipedia states there are an estimated 10,000 distinct religions worldwide – albeit the ‘big four’, Christianity, Islam, Hinduism, and Buddhism—account for over 77 percent of the world’s population. I’m in the minority; racing is my religion.

As with other faiths, my religious doctrine dictates that I am obliged to visit my Mecca at least once during my lifetime. The Cheltenham and White Turf Festivals are my shrines. For other racing devotees, there are the Royal Ascot, Melbourne Cup and Kentucky Derby meetings.

The White Turf meeting, better known as ‘St. Moritz’, is akin to afternoon tea with the leading man at the Vatican. It leaves an indelible impression. I know this: this year, 19 years after my first, I made my second visit to the exclusive Swiss alpine resort to see horses compete in an exceptional setting.

The Ingredients for a Stylish Swiss Party

The event’s reputation for luxury, excitement and the unique challenge of racing on a frozen lake draws participants from around the globe. You read correctly, a frozen lake – one of the most unlikely places for a pack of horses to be seen and heard thundering along in competition.

It is a simple formula. Take a 780,000 square-metre lake, add 20 million cubic metres of water, and leave throughout the early winter until ice forms and thickens to between 40 and 80 centimetres throughout.

Afterwards, fence off a 130,000 square-metre event area, build a large, tented city, assemble grandstands, and erect inner and outer running rails for an oval racecourse with a chute. Ensure ample parking space is left for ambulances, stewards’ vehicles, sponsors’ demonstration cars, and starting stalls.

St. Moritz’s White Turf racecourse during preparations for its 2025 meeting. ? A.Furger/White Turf

Finally, fit all horses with specially studded shoes designed to give equine contestants traction on what would otherwise be a highly hazardous surface. Et-voila, all the ingredients to race on a lake – which incidentally stages international yacht races during the summer months – are in the blender and ready to cook up a feast.

Three Types of Equine Racing

Over three consecutive weekends, St. Moritz – famed for hosting the 1928 and 1948 Winter Olympic Games – stages three varieties of horse racing on its customised frozen lake. A meeting comprises of two skijoring and trotting contests and two flat races.

Horses racing with jockeys aboard – what we would consider conventional racing – was the last type of horse racing to arrive in St. Moritz. Flat racing first featured in 1911. Skijoring and trotting races predate it by four years.

Skijoring, best described as water skiing on ice but powered by a horse and not a speedboat, is the clear fan favourite. It gives the locals a real sense of pride and ownership. This form of competition also gets the most attention from the media.

An action shot of it can be found on nearby roadside advertising. It also adorns the front and back covers of the day’s racecard. Unsurprisingly, that program is jam-packed with adverts for luxury goods. The list of runners in the opening race is not featured until page 33.

St. Moritz, White Turf 2025, roadside advertising. pic.twitter.com/6VRY7d0kRb

— Sports & Betting History by BestBettingSites (@CDCHistory) February 13, 2025

It must be said that colourful images of daring men and women competing in an adrenaline-filled action sport – with the southern slopes of the Albula Alps under clear skies acting as a spectacular backdrop – stirs the senses. Incidentally, St. Moritz enjoys 300 days of sunshine every year. Today, it is overcast with persistent snowfall.

Christmas Card Stuff on St. Moritz Lake

The day’s racing action began with a trotting race in which sulkies fitted with conventional wheels are inappropriate. Consequently, the single-seater frames are fitted with slick aluminium ski blades that glide over the St. Moritz ice with little resistance despite the burden of the rider’s weight.

I may have seen too many Christmas cards featuring Santa, Rudolph, sleighs and snow because of all the outrageous things I saw during my day in St. Moritz; this was one of the least shocking.

The 30 percent deduction on tote win bets was close to the top of my shortlist. That significant fact did not make it to the racecard. Instead, it was buried relatively deeply in White Turf’s website. Statistically, such a large margin this makes winning difficult.

Still marvelling at the sights and sounds of St. Moritz, I failed to take heed of the tannoy announcements that alerted the public to the impending start of the 1.7-kilometre contest. They were made in German after all, and I only understood the repeated term “Fourteenth of July”.

I presumed these references were seed-planting reminders that racegoers should consider returning to the lake in mid-summer to see yachts, not horses, racing. It was not. Fourteenth of July was a 10-year-old gelding who made all to win the opener as the 11/10 favourite!

Smoking in the Monaco of the Mountains

A 35-minute gap between races allowed me to explore what the racecourse had to offer. I counted ten tents serving food and drink. Seven of them listed Champaign prominently on their menu displays. One was an Irish Coffee and Whisky Bar, and another sold bratwursts. These were not doing much trade.

I passed three tables so heavily laden with plates of oysters, lobsters and caviar that they looked set to collapse. While peeking into a corporate hospitality tent that resembled a royal wedding reception, I devised White Turf 2026’s advertising slogan: ‘Come Play in the Monaco of the Mountains’. If it were not so cold, this place would drip with money.

I resisted the temptation to buy myself a lunch I would not enjoy due to its cost. Instead, I headed to the jockey’s tent, hoping to catch a glimpse of Sibylle Vogt. The Swiss rider has made a name for herself on the global stage in recent years. Her name is also the only name I recognised on the racecard.

I failed to see the rising star. However, to my amusement, one jockey was standing outside of the ‘jocks room’. Clad in seemingly paper-thin silks, the diminutive figure drew heavily on a cigarette. And there was me thinking sportsmen demanded the highest levels of fitness!

For fun, I had to back his mount in what was the first flat race of the day. At halfway, he and his horse were 20 lengths adrift of the leader. It was as close as the pair ever got! Maybe the horse was suffering from a hangover – or the effects of smoke inhalation.

School Has Finished – Time to Play

Plenty of people-watching goes on at the White Turf meeting. Just as it does at Royal Ascot, racegoers have gone to great lengths in the style stakes. Fur coats are not considered politically incorrect here – to the contrary, they are almost mandatory.

Up to 13,000 people attend the White Turf meetings every year. ? A.Furger/White Turf

But this is a nation of animal lovers. The endless stream of finely manicured dogs adorning customised thermal socks, bespoke tailored jackets and flaunting jewel-encrusted collars confirmed my opinion on this point.

Always friendly? Possibly not. But I find people to the point while respectful and polite. As I took my seat in one of the bizarrely basic grandstands, ahead of the showstopping Skijoring race, I made conversation with a woman, and her three teenage children sat alongside me.

Commenting on their perfect English – something I had not heard during any part of the day – was, to quote a poker term, my ‘in’. “Where are you guys from?” I probed. My guesses proved as accurate as my second race bet selection. I was to learn that the accents resulted from time spent in London, Geneva and New York finishing schools.

The family were local residents – a rarity, as only 5,000 people live in St. Moritz. At this time of day, many of those would be working in the town’s exclusive shopping street, the ‘Via Serlas’. Only major cities, such as London, New York, and maybe Saint-Tropez, can beat the selection of luxury brands and galleries found on this small walkway.

Racing Without a Degree of Doubt

Keen to tell me what a tradition ‘White Turf’ is in the area, I tactfully attempt to ask my new friends their viewpoint on the theory that the meeting’s days are numbered due to climate change. The first scheduled meeting of 2025 and the final one of 2024 had been abandoned due to unsafe conditions.

Pointing to her mobile phone, which had been wrapped in a fur case, and its weather app, the mother immediately replied as her children nodded in agreement: “Look, overnight temperatures will range between -9 and -15 every night for the next 10 days. It’s been the case for the past month.”

“A degree average rise over the next 30 years – more so summertime highs and not wintertime lows – will not affect this meeting. We have just been unlucky in recent times, that’s all. We will be racing here for a long time yet,” she declared before turning to her children and talking further in a language I could not understand.

Schiergen and Schael Skijoring for Two Laps

The Skijoring race was indeed entertaining. I had not placed a bet but had decided to cheer local champion Valeria Schiergen. She was being towed along by a horse called Schael. I was drawn to her shocking pink one-piece outfit, a pink sheet that protected her from kickback and the matching pink bandaging on her horse’s legs.

I cheered Schiergen and Schael on vociferously from flag fall, and when the pair crossed the line ahead, few people were making more noise than me. That was unsurprising, as the horses were about to set out on their second circuit!

The pretty-in-pink duo managed to maintain their advantage for the second lap as I continued to cheer loudly, hoping my faux-pas would not be so apparent amongst the noticeably reserved racegoers around me.

Following 2,590 metres of racing, Schael crossed the line ahead – amidst cheers that did not match my best efforts – for the second time and the commentator, who muttered only one word I understood, “super”, finally fell quiet.

Valeria Schiergen and Schael before the pair suffered from brake failure in the skijoring race. ? A.Furger/White Turf

Skijoring: Thick Ice but No Brakes

Schael never got the memo, however. He continued to drag his surely exhausted partner along for a third circuit. When the pair approached the line for a fourth time, I realised that this horse would only stop when he and only he decided he had had enough. Skijoring features many things but not brakes.

It also dawned on officials that Schael, who had a lot of energy, needed to be stopped. Their eager flag-waving efforts saw the horse divert himself headlong into a plastic rail, with the unfortunate skier, Schiergen, arriving at the scene of the accident moments later. Thankfully, neither were seriously injured.

Supermarket Service in the Tote Tent

There is nothing worse than not backing a winner. With attention turned to my favoured flat racing, I set about placing my second bet of the afternoon. I wanted to back a winner, not just cheer a horse over the line thrice for fun.

One tent facilitates all White Turf’s betting counters, a few dozen at a guess. Impressive crowds and queues meant an exact count was impossible. Following some crude calculations, I estimated that 300 people were stood waiting to place bets or collect their winnings.

With the type of efficiency you would expect to find in this part of the world, the tote tent featured one entrance and one exit. Racegoers are encouraged to move on once they have backed their selections. It gave me the feel of an upmarket Aldi supermarket – in the way you cannot leave unless making a purchase – and yes, many bets were placed using a tap of a credit or debit card.

Golden Ticket Printing on a Potential Titanic

In an area no bigger than a good-sized hotel swimming pool, and considering the number of people, equipment and the floored structure, I wondered if we could all suddenly find ourselves drifting away on an iceberg that has floated down and then away courtesy of its weight burden.

Worse yet, we could sink into the murky depths like the Titanic – which coincidentally also had an unfortunate incident with a large white icy object while laden with obscenely wealthy people.

I digress. Top Max was the money horse in this contest. It showed as a 2.1 chance when I began to queue, but it had shortened to 1.6 by the time I reached the tote attendant. No one has ever got rich backing odds-on shots (and paying a 30 percent deduction), so I elected to plough my colourful, relatively high denomination Swiss franc note into the second favourite, Saadi.

There were no mistakes this time: One circuit, with the second crossing of the winning post being the one that pays. And pay it did; Saadi made all to turn my bland white ticket into something fit for a Wonker movie. My winner returned at odds of almost 9/2!

A St. Moritz Winner Means Corked Chaos

It’s funny what a winner does for you. Underdressed or otherwise, for a moment, this fish out of frozen water felt like a millionaire. A visit to the Champagne Bar was made en-route to my victorious return to the perilous tote tent. There was no gawping or head shaking this time when casting my formerly green eyes at the menu.

And that is the moral of St. Moritz. This Swiss wonderland temporarily removes you from reality. That’s the truth; this is not a sentiment related to my second, third, and possibly fourth glass of naturally chilled French-made corked chaos. It is not coincidental that I cannot recall much beyond race 4 on the White Turf program!

Going Green to Get Back to White Turf

Ultimately, speaking as someone fortunate enough to have visited over 200 racecourses and greyhound tracks around the world, I declare nothing on this planet compares with horse racing on St. Moritz’s frozen lake.

There is beach racing at Laytown in Ireland. But there is also beach racing in Sanlúcar de Barrameda and Zahara de los Atunes in Spain, Saint Efflam and Baie du Kernic in France, Duhner-Wattrennen in Germany and makeshift tracks in New Zealand and Australia. It is not unique.

Scientists insist the sands of time are running low on winter sports, and sea levels will rise markedly – potentially wreaking havoc on these quirky racing spectacles. Their global warming warnings always have a sub-heading note stating, “It is not too late to save the planet”.

Maybe my multi-lingual friends in the grandstand are correct in their belief that White Turf will be racing for decades to come. But, fearing that I will not be able to see this remarkable event in another 19 years’ time, I now have a vested interest in going green, and I’m backing the scientists.

Henceforth, only grapes grown using sustainable agricultural principles – to minimise the environmental impact of champagne making – will go into my bubbly. That statement is as crazy as St. Moritz, but I am and will always be drunk on the novel and unique White Turf.