A month has passed since our last day on the snow, and now i’m here writing about those days at the Grand Saint Bernard Pass. We started our trip on Saturday, little cloudy, and a bit of shy sun. We left the car a couple of meters before the barrier closing the road, skis on the back, comfy shoes and the way up the pass starts. Luckily the walking is not too long, and as soon as snow patches starts, we can start to skin up on slis and splitboards. I’s a nice experience to walk on a national road which is very very busy of cars and motorbike in the summer! The snow was now absolutely the center of the scene, and its presence made me think about the times the asphalt road was still not built; people walking up, or skiing with the first woodden skis, when nature was the queen and its rules could not be overtaken. We reached the hospice after about 4 hours of climbing, clouds still there but the air was smelling some changing, and after being welcomed by the monks, owners of the hospice, with nice soup, sausages and cheese, the sun finally came out strong and Massimo had the chance to take the group for a couple of runs over the hospice, followed by a nice dinner and an early bedtime. Church choirs wake us up in the morning, and we go out after a big breakfast. No sun, only fog. We still decide to try to climb the Mont Fourchon. The visibility is very poor, but on top we get to see for few minutes the Mont Blanc in the background; almost a reward for our stubborn climb in the dark. Quick t-shirt change on top with the wind almost taking away our stuff and we begin the descent. The visibility gets better going down, we even meet some Chamois. The spring is coming! While skiing down, i think about the last couple of hours spent in the hospice, the kindness of the monks, to the sweetness of the bread freshly made up there, the dinner, the visit to the Hospice museum, to the strength that this place holds, I think to modern times full of borders, absurd laws and so much suspicion. I think to what the borders where for our ancestors, to the exchange and the richness (not that made of coins) that people used to earn and donate. I think that you should go to the hospice, but do it by foot, ski or bike, it certainly has another taste.

More here: VDAmonamour.

via aostavalleyfreeride.com

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I believe in breaks, in those moments that make you stop, those when you must observe, you must breathe. Those obliged stops that make you admire the useless human presence. I believe in friendship and in selective condivision. I think that Misérin is one of those places, and much more, a magic spot out of time, even though those might be sold out words for the ones who live the mountain and does not take advantage  of it. To get there you don’t need iron legs and ultra-tech lightweight stuff but only a bit of heart and sweat. Then, you reach the Misérin, and everything opens up, like a city in summer o r a flower in spring. All of a sudden you notice that the eyes become the first thing, primary representation of your needs. You got everything there, the view, the wine, the beer, the commodities, vices and goodness and a dog called Woulk. Avalaible for the sight only, because taking advantage of certain things could not be so easy. In the end this is one of the places of my heart, together with others in this magic Valley in which I live, that still at 30 I did not explore all; sometimes stinginess is good – I should say – otherwise life could be so boring! That’s one of the places where I would like to stay for a couple of weeks of vacation. Not cruises or Club Med’s, just a house, a lake, nectar and some good pages to read. Maybe a bit of tobacco and some sweet note. Please, go to the Misérin Refuge, in winter, summer, spring or autumn, but absolutely go there, because if you still have a bit of humility and sensitivity, in those fucked up years 2000, this is the right place to take it out; that’s the right place to stop, at least for 5 minutes. Go away from everything, from the traffic, from the Bible, from the downtown aperitif and from the banks. But make it, before you crash, because that suffering wich is on everybody’s mouth, must be endorsed, at least once in your life. And that’s THE place where you can do it.

More here: VDAmonamour.

via aostavalleyfreeride.com

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Puntata fresca di sturie e situe con dentro la Fiera di Sant’Orso, le montagne dell’Argentera e la presentazione di Miseria nera. E poi un sacco di occhi rossi, vino, cibo, rifiuti solidi urbani, amici, pellicce, arrampicatori sociali, fiori, morti apparenti, gente che suona seduta, copricapi e ciao grazie.

Olympus mju + Nikon EM + b/w 250 + Kodak Gold 200

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Perchè la toponomastica è importante e la voglia di vedere posti di cui si è letto e sentito tanto ancora di più, quindi grazie a chi mi ha invitato, ai padroni di casa, ai fantasmi di pietra e alle presenze naturali, ai villaggi silenti tenuti svegli da una pasticceria, un market e un pub, a chi vuol bene a questi silenzi, al pellet che non bruciava e al 3g che non prendeva, agli episodi ricordati, ai cavalli delle slitte e ai croissants ghiacciati, ai sorrisi e alle medie bevute. Sono stati 2 giorni stupendi. Grazie alla neve, che quest’anno è arrivata un pò in ritardo rispetto alle nostre abitudini, forse perchè non ce la meritiamo più insieme all’albero di Natale, a braccetto col consumismo e quelle finzioni lì o forse perchè solo così riusciamo ad apprezzarla veramente, quando è libera di cadere dal cielo e non ha bisogno di trasformazioni artificiali, perchè per ora le stagioni non le trovi tra le offerte dell’ipermercato, esistono ancora e per fortuna decidono ancora loro quando palesarsi.

Fujifilm x100s

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