Cuneo-Nice, a short ski touring story between the Alps and the sea

March 16-20, 2024. Alps and sea, mountains and sea… a combination that has been repeated for many years in our trips. When you think about it, much of our ski touring involves skiing on mountains overlooking the sea!

In Norway, in the Arctic islands of Svalbard, in Iceland and Greenland, all the way to the Pacific coasts overlooked by the volcanoes of Chile and the mountains of Patagonia… And finally the Maritime Alps – a name that speaks for itself – overlooking the warmer waters of the Mediterranean, the Côte d’Azur, Monte Carlo, Nice and its Promenade des Anglais… Many factors in common beyond the thrill of carving your turns facing the sea: that greater sense of emptiness, space and light given by the expanse of water at your feet that changes color and reflections with the changing weather and clouds. Then the snow, different from continental snow, more often blown onto the rocks where it sticks in no time due to humidity and winds; snow that settles more quickly, that wraps around the mountains softening their shapes. Snow that creates immense “firn” slides that if you catch at the right moment make you feel like you’re flying, truly skilled in this art of gliding!

Cuneo-Nice was born like this, somewhat by chance, somewhat as a daughter of the longer Traverse of the Maritime Alps, done for the first time in the now distant 1930s by ski mountaineers from Cuneo led by Matteo Campia: if their route was from Limone to Colle della Maddalena, we for logistical reasons and the need for beautiful descents have been traveling in the opposite direction for years now: toward the sea, in fact. This way we guarantee spring descents always in the sun and… with a sea view!

So this year too we set off for this small great journey through the mountains that separate-unite the cities of Cuneo and Nice: once both part of the Savoy state, then divided between Italy and France, peoples always in some way united by markets, historical migrations between the high valleys and Provence, vacation homes (people from Cuneo traditionally have them in Menton, those from Nice and Monaco in Limone Piemonte) and a much-discussed railway line that despite landslides and floods holds strong, perched among the mountains of the rugged Val Roya and the fresh Vermenagna.

A nice group sets off in Val Gesso recently covered by finally abundant snowfall: the valley road at times invaded by large avalanches, though still nothing compared to those of the good old days when snow remained until late season and excavators could get to work to reopen it to traffic only in early May!

We take the opportunity to try a new route, a bit more direct and linear compared to previous editions, thanks to the winter opening of Rifugio Remondino by the enterprising new manager Marco Ghibaudo.

After a first evening at Casa Savoia, a charming and welcoming refuge in the heart of the austere Terme di Valdieri, we climb up to Pian della Casa.

The environment is decidedly wintry: the snow softens the angular rocky profiles of Argentera and Madre di Dio allowing us to climb among large blocks with bold and exciting routes that invite photography. Sun and manager welcome us at Remondino: the atmosphere inside is typical of winter refuges, until now so unusual in the Maritime Alps because before Marco only the “Valasco band” had the initiative to venture (often with heavy backpacks and hours of shoveling) into these severe valleys in the harsh season to welcome the fortunate if rare snow tourists!

Stove lit, skins spread out to dry, slight smell of sweat and used boots, beer on the table and a plate of pasta on the fly: what more could you ask for if you love simplicity, the slightly tamed roughness, the authenticity of these small high-altitude experiences? When I find myself here, in these situations, I inevitably sense the immense potential of these valleys, this reservoir of experiential emotions within reach for anyone who has the desire, the curiosity to step off more common routes and stick their nose into the folds of these secluded mountains: and I smile to myself, torn between the desire to talk about it, to share what is no longer a secret and keeping it hidden, a small treasure for initiates not to be reduced to the level of hautes routes with caravans of international ski mountaineers in line… But then who knows, perhaps the role of these mountains is precisely to teach a culture of the mountains on tiptoe, without too much clamor and with great respect for nature; where you leave behind redundant daily comforts to rediscover that with little you can live great experiences with an almost primordial flavor, returning to warming yourself by the fire, washing with icy water, going out in the snow to use the toilet.

We continue to Colle della Culatta, a vast little-known depression that offers a long series of turns in the sunset sun at the foot of Nasta to return to the refuge and enjoy our well-deserved dinner. Stop, end of the first day.

Day two, we set off again: direction Passo del Brocan, accompanied by vast banks of high clouds from the west bringing some wind and sleet; but nothing much, by mid-morning the sun reclaims the sky, softens the first slopes just a bit and we head down among rocky bumps and long white slides to skin up again in the Ghigliè valley.

We reach the summit with the midday sun and take full advantage of the vast panorama: some clouds barely let us glimpse the Côte d’Azur but above, distant after a vast patch of blue, Corsica resembles the back of a whale with snow-covered Monte Cinto as its dorsal fin. Charly’s welcome at Cougourde is the classic one, with omelette fromage for everyone and relaxation on the beautiful terrace of this chalet refuge located at the edge of the larches in the stunning setting of Haut Boreon. The usual semi-domesticated fox that punctually appeared in the evening to peek through the window isn’t there this time, who knows!

Departure downhill for this day that will take us to Refuge de Nice. Pas des Ladres offers the first rather steep climb, after which we begin to sense an environment that – although still steep with rock walls and snowy gullies all around – becomes sunnier, more open, less severe compared to the valleys of Cuneo just left behind. Chamois here and there, Gelas maintaining its physique du role as the Mont Blanc of the Maritime Alps, long smooth slopes offer the first real turns of the day in that firn that seems like butter…

A delight at the bottom of which a small plateau requires skinning up again and grants the first phone connection after (finally) more than a day of quiet. Steep turns beyond Pas du Mont Colomb and here we are at Refuge de Nice.

We haven’t passed through here for a few years now, due to COVID and the lack of snow in recent years! Christophe welcomes me cheerfully, the friendly gardien that he is, happy to see some Italiens, “qui sont simpa mais il ne font pas souvent des longues rando a ski: ils doivent retourner chez mama”. And he laughs… Last time we had a big party here, complete with guitar, and in the end he absolutely wanted to sing O bella ciao, waking up an austere group of Swiss and earning a reprimand from his own clients… “Trop seurieux ces allemands!”

Goodbye Christophe, see you next time, we set off again skins and edges, along steep then gentle then steep again slopes interspersed with some more severe gullies to reach first the Breche du Basto and – after some beautiful turns in upper Valmasque – the Breche de Fontanalba.

The sensation is truly that of leaving the Alps: only the rock of Rocca dell’Abisso stops the gaze on the horizon, while behind us a barrier of mountains, spurs and rocky buttresses gives the sensation of a curtain beyond which lie the mountains just traveled: ahead the wide and gentle valley of Fontanalba with its rock carvings invites us to abandon ourselves to the last turns toward the dark pine forests of Casterino and the tormented Roya devastated by storm Alex.

At the bottom Saccarello, Balcone di Marta and behind, ever-present, the sea.

The Cuneo-Nice ends here, a journey through snow, cities and cultures from across the Alps, a peaceful and sporting liaison between people divided by political borders but united by common passions. A train awaits us in Tenda, half an hour and we’ll be back across the border, ready to set off for journeys without borders.