At Sauris with the snow; a fairy tale amid the Friulian Dolomites

“Let's go to Sauris; they say there’s snow and I saw a wonderful chalet. It is not very expensive and it is very beautiful and quiet. I’ll stay indoors to read near the fire and you can go on the snow.” I do not really believe her very much, as the last snow fell over fifteen days ago. But my friend needs a short break and I, when all is said and done, need some snow.

We leave early and with the sun rising we arrive among the houses and the typical rustic buildings of  Sauris. There are cribs by the perfectly stacked wood piles, a festive spirit and scent of timeless simplicity, but, of course, very little snow. Even on the peaks around the village there are larger areas of brown grass burned by the cold than those covered with white. Alessandra is worried for me: “I’m sorry, I thought there was more snow”. But I do not want to sadden her: “Don’t worry, it’s fine as it is. We can go for walks in the woods”, I answer as I look a bit disconsolately at the snowshoes and snowboard in the boot of the car. But, from the chalet, Augusto comes to pick us up on a snowmobile. “Well, if a snowmobile can get by, I can go snowboarding”, I think to myself. “Ale, you go with him, I’ll come down on my snowboard”. In actual fact, however, it’s less than 500 metres of descent on the now closed old piste, to get to a beautiful carefully renovated stavolo or chalet.

The owners are friendly, welcome us warmly and give us suggestions on how to spend the day. “Anyway, at Sauris di sotto the ski lift is open today, if you really want to ski, or you can go up to Casera Razzo, but the road is closed because of the snow”. We decide to go down to Sauris di Sotto. The piste is really short and packed with lots of children intent on learning and getting to grips with snow and skiing. “I don’t think this is for me”, I smile at Ale, “better go for the good beer and speck of Sauris”. We buy the necessary at the shop and just outside the village we eat our snack, something between a late breakfast and frugal lunch. “Ok, let's try the Casera Razzo road”, I suggest climbing into the car. But the road to the pass is indeed closed and has not been cleared of snow, but you we were able to go anyway for a few kilometres, as the road starts flat and we are fitted with snow tyres. At the beginning of the first hill, we get out of the car.

The snow is compacted by the passage of snowmobiles, so there’s no need for snowshoes. I load my old snowboard on my shoulders: “It’s already ruined anyway, so even if it gets scratched by asphalt it doesn’t matter”. The barrier across the road is raised, and the road sign reads that the pass is open, but the completely white road inaccessible to cars evidently demonstrates the contrary.

Eight bends, and then a second sign warns us as the road climbs up the rocky ridge. Ale, whom I have already rudely left some metres behind taken as she struggled with the snow, shouts to me: “Go ahead, I’ll come up at my own pace; I might just make it to the fourth hairpin!”. And mountains, and in this case even on a road, should be taken just like that: each with his own pace. And there is no irritation or resentment in her words, just as there is no remorse in my going. But I climb anyway without haste, without a clock, without a phone, without thoughts, while the white road unwinds in front of me. There are no steep slopes, and everything is just so and quiet. Silence fills the valleys, the firs and the larches without snow, which are motionless, like ancient sentinels, observing all my steps. It’s great to walk on the white snow, without too much effort, looking around. My breathing never becomes laboured and the view opens more and more, over the whole crown of the mountains that embrace the pass that divides Friuli Venezia Giulia from Cadore, the Friulian Dolomites from the Veneto. At the top a wooden bench looks at this spectacle eternally still, and for a moment I look at it with it. I breathe in the white around, which has increased as I have climbed up, then I put my feet in the snowboard and slowly follow the long white snake on the road, which brings me serenely down to the quiet valley of Sauris.