Siamo in a pub late at night. Remembering the good times we had during this long evening of escape, someone proposes a toast: "A thousand nights like this," The pints are raised to heaven in a clink of glasses. It was around sunset when we left, by car, from the big city. A journey through suburban neighborhoods, round and semi-detached houses. No highways were headed for a nearby location but forgotten, the true cradle of skiing, skiers, many of whom fired at 130 per hour to distant mega-stations do not even know existed.
History (with an "s" lower case) says that here, in 1897, took place the first trip on skis. The initiative was playing by a Swiss engineer, the legendary Adolfo Kind, who arrived in Turin to open a factory near the Po wicks He, an avid mountain had started to practice on snow-covered meadows of the Valentino Park in the use of two strange articles of wood that never before had seen in Italy: ski that Kind had become a mandate from Norway. After the first exercises in the city and the hills of Turin (apparently it was snowing then more than now), it was time to expand the range of excursions and experience the tools for the first time in the mountains. The choice fell on Sangone Valley to the vicinity and above all because at that time there was a train commuter from Via Sacchi, on the corner Corso Sommeiller, brought up to Giaveno. From there, just a few steps to leave the country and reach the Pra Fieul, the slopes of Eagle Point, where slopes and slopes allowed climbs, curves and descents more advanced than anyone could do in Turin.
Later, with the advent of the automobile playgrounds for skiers in Turin is extended considerably, but the Eagle was always one of the most beaten. The basis for the trips moved upward until the village of Maddalena (741 m), easily accessible by wheel loaders, which considerably shortened the climb up to 2155 m. summit. It was still the era of the skins, but true seal, for the better-off and strips of burlap tied under the skis for the poor.
In the 60s the development of winter tourism also suffered a drastic acceleration in this valley child. It was the era of on-piste skiing, the fun of the descent from which destroyed the uphill effort to other areas evicting those who from then on were called cross country skiing. Higher Maddalene, Colombino Alpe (1261 m), modern ski facilities were built: a mega-hotel (for the parameters of Sangone Val), baby and futuristic chair lift leading to the tip of the Lese (1857 m .) long before that series of short terraces and toe slopes that lead to L'Aquila. One wonders if it was the decrease in snow and rising temperatures that forced the skiers to climb higher with the car, or whether it was the use of cars to cause the raising of the snowline. In any case, we have entered a vicious circle.
is already dark when we reach the car park outside the hotel, the first and only modern building looming over the valley below. A wooden shed still bears the sign "Sangone Valley Ski Club." On the one hand we can see the track of the baby, just beyond the snow-covered road that we take part directed upwards. The moon has not yet arisen, but the lights of the hotel guide us along the hairpin turns on hard snow and ice. Soon we reach the ridge, followed by a flat beam, leads to the large amphitheater below the tip of the Lese. Meanwhile, the moon rose and lit the masts of the chair, points of an imaginary line that runs along the maximum gradient of the slope. The dim lighting casts a sinister light on the entire valley. The metal frames are rusty because of disuse, is located high in the arrival station completely abandoned. We drive through the suburbs of the post-industrial, here we find a scene from the post-tourist. After several winters of snow and greedy because of the development of ski areas swirling "branded" the broader valleys, the small station was forced to close. Now the slopes of Eagle Point are back to being a fertile ground for ski touring and snowshoeing are not afraid that the effort of the climb. It is also recommended strong-minded non-depressed in the face of this massacre. I almost you better come at night.
continue beyond the arrival of the lift, the last stretch is along a small sharp crest that leads to the cross. From backpacks come out good sandwiches, bottles of wine and a cake out of season. Now the moon is high in the sky and it will light up the slope to the valley which ends at the bar The Big Ben. On our way we lived on a Saturday evening dedicated evasion before returning to the world that belongs to us, made of English pubs and shopping malls.
History (with an "s" lower case) says that here, in 1897, took place the first trip on skis. The initiative was playing by a Swiss engineer, the legendary Adolfo Kind, who arrived in Turin to open a factory near the Po wicks He, an avid mountain had started to practice on snow-covered meadows of the Valentino Park in the use of two strange articles of wood that never before had seen in Italy: ski that Kind had become a mandate from Norway. After the first exercises in the city and the hills of Turin (apparently it was snowing then more than now), it was time to expand the range of excursions and experience the tools for the first time in the mountains. The choice fell on Sangone Valley to the vicinity and above all because at that time there was a train commuter from Via Sacchi, on the corner Corso Sommeiller, brought up to Giaveno. From there, just a few steps to leave the country and reach the Pra Fieul, the slopes of Eagle Point, where slopes and slopes allowed climbs, curves and descents more advanced than anyone could do in Turin.
Later, with the advent of the automobile playgrounds for skiers in Turin is extended considerably, but the Eagle was always one of the most beaten. The basis for the trips moved upward until the village of Maddalena (741 m), easily accessible by wheel loaders, which considerably shortened the climb up to 2155 m. summit. It was still the era of the skins, but true seal, for the better-off and strips of burlap tied under the skis for the poor.
In the 60s the development of winter tourism also suffered a drastic acceleration in this valley child. It was the era of on-piste skiing, the fun of the descent from which destroyed the uphill effort to other areas evicting those who from then on were called cross country skiing. Higher Maddalene, Colombino Alpe (1261 m), modern ski facilities were built: a mega-hotel (for the parameters of Sangone Val), baby and futuristic chair lift leading to the tip of the Lese (1857 m .) long before that series of short terraces and toe slopes that lead to L'Aquila. One wonders if it was the decrease in snow and rising temperatures that forced the skiers to climb higher with the car, or whether it was the use of cars to cause the raising of the snowline. In any case, we have entered a vicious circle.
is already dark when we reach the car park outside the hotel, the first and only modern building looming over the valley below. A wooden shed still bears the sign "Sangone Valley Ski Club." On the one hand we can see the track of the baby, just beyond the snow-covered road that we take part directed upwards. The moon has not yet arisen, but the lights of the hotel guide us along the hairpin turns on hard snow and ice. Soon we reach the ridge, followed by a flat beam, leads to the large amphitheater below the tip of the Lese. Meanwhile, the moon rose and lit the masts of the chair, points of an imaginary line that runs along the maximum gradient of the slope. The dim lighting casts a sinister light on the entire valley. The metal frames are rusty because of disuse, is located high in the arrival station completely abandoned. We drive through the suburbs of the post-industrial, here we find a scene from the post-tourist. After several winters of snow and greedy because of the development of ski areas swirling "branded" the broader valleys, the small station was forced to close. Now the slopes of Eagle Point are back to being a fertile ground for ski touring and snowshoeing are not afraid that the effort of the climb. It is also recommended strong-minded non-depressed in the face of this massacre. I almost you better come at night.
continue beyond the arrival of the lift, the last stretch is along a small sharp crest that leads to the cross. From backpacks come out good sandwiches, bottles of wine and a cake out of season. Now the moon is high in the sky and it will light up the slope to the valley which ends at the bar The Big Ben. On our way we lived on a Saturday evening dedicated evasion before returning to the world that belongs to us, made of English pubs and shopping malls.
The beautiful picture on Cikus
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