Penguin Stories / Eat sleep ride
Frenneke Blokker is a freerider, campervan adventurer, and apparently willing to throw any sensible sleep routine out the window for good snow.
This winter probably felt familiar to all of us: weeks of brown grass instead of powder, weather apps running nonstop, and the same daily question in every freeride group chat: “Is the dump finally coming now, or are we just getting emotional damage again?” And the moment somewhere in Italy forecasted 20 centimeters more snow, half of Europe was suddenly in a van heading south.
That’s exactly how it went for us too.
With our Magic Pass – the season pass for around 150 ski resorts in Switzerland – it all seemed pretty straightforward at first. Switzerland. Easy. But the closer we got, the more obvious it became: Mother Nature had other plans. This time it wouldn’t be Switzerland or Austria that would cash in, but the Alpes-Maritimes on the Italian side. After what felt like six weeks without any meaningful snowfall, the forecast finally showed a bit of hope again. So: pack up, stockpile snacks, throw the freeride gear in the van, and go.
We ignored all common sense, added another relaxed five hours of driving after Bern, and headed straight toward the province of Cuneo. And the farther south we drove, the better the mood inside the van got. First a few snow-covered slopes, then fully white mountains — better than any weather app. On the way, I messaged a few freeride friends from the Netherlands who had exactly the same brilliant idea. A little later, we all met up in Artesina, probably together with every powder nerd in Europe.
Artesina is small, local, and exactly the kind of ski area where you wake up in the morning thinking: “Where is everybody?” Apparently, the locals had decided to sleep in while we were already dropping our first lines. Not that we minded.
The powder? Absolutely insane.
The Italian way of life? Almost even better. Espresso for one euro, pasta at prices that would probably make Swiss ski resorts nervously laugh, and people everywhere who somehow seemed more relaxed than we were after three days of powder bliss. In short: we didn’t regret switching Switzerland for Italy for a second. Sorry, home country
After a few days of powder runs in Artesina and a short ski tour up a nearby peak, it was time to move on—after all, the next storm was already on its way. This time, at least, we were already in the right corner of Europe.
On the recommendation of friends, we headed to Prali, a charming old ski resort in the Cottian Alps near the French border. Prali has exactly four lifts. Four. Under normal circumstances, that would fall into the category of a “relaxed family day out.” For freeriders, however, it means something very different: endless tree runs, barely any stress, and a whole lot of backcountry terrain.
On the first day, we scoped out possible lines, explored the terrain, and—purely for cultural reasons, of course—checked out the local cuisine once again. In the evening, we parked our camper right at the base station and set the alarm to “way too early.” The next morning came the surprise: overnight, more than 20 centimeters of fresh snow had fallen in the valley. Up high, it was absolute chaos—in the best possible way.
While we were getting our gear ready, it quickly became clear: we were no longer the only ones with this brilliant plan. Freeriders from all over Europe had made their way to Prali, and suddenly the lift line looked more like the entrance to a festival.
Luckily, everything spreads out quickly once you’re up on the mountain. And so we once again found those magical tree runs where, at some point, you stop counting how many good laps you’ve already done. All day long we were riding through waist-deep powder, honestly barely able to believe how good the conditions were.
Looking back, the decision to just blindly head south in the campervan was probably one of our better ideas this winter. Italy delivered—and then some.
Or in other words: the next powder trip south is already basically decided.
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