WWhen the Céüze 2000 ski resort closed at the end of the 2018 season, workers assumed they would return the following winter. The trail maps lay in a stack next to the stapler; staff rotation was pinned to the wall.
Six years later, the yellowed newspaper from March 8, 2018 lies folded on its side, as if someone had just leafed through it during a lull. An unfinished bottle of water was left on the table.
The Sèze resort in the southern French Alps had been open for 85 years and was one of the oldest in the country. Today it is one of dozens of abandoned ski resorts across France – part of a new landscape “ghost stations“
More than 186 were constantly already closedraising questions about how we are abandoning the mountains – some of the last wild places in Europe. – as soon as the elevators stop working.
As global warming pushes the snow line higher across the Alps, thousands of structures are left to rot – some collapsing and polluting the surrounding land, sparking debate over what should happen to the remnants of the old way of life – and whether to allow nature to reclaim the mountains.
Snowfall in Seyuz became unreliable in the 1990s. To be financially viable, the resort had to be open for at least three months. That last winter he only managed to hold out for a month and a half. Two years before that, he could not work at all.
It costs the local authority €450,000 (£390,000) to open the resort each season. As the season got shorter, the numbers no longer added up. To avoid a spiral of debt, the decision was made to close.
“It cost us more to keep it open than to keep it closed for the season,” says Michel Ricou-Charles, president of the Buech-Dévolouy local community council, which oversees the site. Even according to the most optimistic forecasts, the future looked bleak. “We considered using artificial snow, but realized it would delay the inevitable,” he says.
It took seven years before trucks and helicopters arrived to begin dismantling the pylons. However, the local community mourned the loss of this small, family-run resort that had been remembered for generations. When the demolition began, they came to pick up nuts, bolts and washers as souvenirs of what they had lost.
Wilderness degradation
In France today there is 113 lifts totaling almost 40 miles (63 km). that have been abandoned, almost three quarters of them are in protected areas. This is not only ski infrastructure. The Mountain Wilderness Association estimates there are more than 3,000 abandoned structures scattered around the French mountains, slowly destroying Europe's richest wilderness. This includes military, industrial and forestry waste such as old cables, pieces of barbed wire, fencing and old machinery.
The Seuze ski resort is quickly becoming one of these polluters. The small wooden cabin at the bottom of the first push-button elevator is losing insulation. Ropes that were once used to mark the course are hanging in tatters and pieces of plastic are falling from the pylon. Old sheds at each end of the lifts often still contain transformers, asbestos, motor oils and grease. Over time, these substances seep into the soil and water.
Corrosion and rusting of metal structures left over from World War II, such as anti-tank rails and metal spikes, has led to changes in plant species in the surrounding area, potentially providing insight into what could happen if the pylons are left to rust in the coming decades.
“In Latin we speak death reminder – remember that you are mortal. Don't think that you are creating something eternal; Eventually they will become obsolete,” says Nicolas Masson of Mountain Wilderness, which advocates dismantling old ski infrastructure to make way for nature. “When you create them, ask yourself: What will be left?”
Some believe resorts should remain landscape monuments that honor the generations of people who have lived and skied here; others believe they should be returned to wild landscapes by removing decaying equipment.
Restoring nature
Sese's deconstruction began on November 4, 2025, a month before the start of the ski season. The resort's lifts were airlifted by helicopter to minimize environmental disruption and land compression.
French law requires that lifts be dismantled and dismantled when they are no longer in use. Law Only applies to lifts built after 2017.however. Most of them have a service life of 30 years, so no elevator will be considered obsolete until at least 2047. The process is also expensive: dismantling Sese will cost 123,000 euros. This means that much of the abandoned ski infrastructure will collapse in situ. What happens in Seyuz is rare.
With the pillars cleared and the resort now closed for seven years, the first signs of ecological restoration are already visible. A red haze floats over the white snow: where the roads are no longer mowed, winter rose hips are sprouting.
The berries are an important winter food for birds such as the rare red-billed tick, and their spiny stems are used to build nests in the spring. In summer, orchids and yellow gentians bloom on these hills. The hills surrounding the site are classified as Natura 2000This means they are home to some of Europe's rarest and most protected wildlife.
Trees are coming back too. “I don’t know if it will take 10, 20 or 50 years, but it’s turning into a forest,” Masson says.
The wild boar and roe deer that live in these forests will benefit from calmer winters. Birds such as black grouse shelter from the extreme cold in winter by burrowing into the snow and prefer deep, powdery snow – just like skiers. The species is endangered in all mountain ranges France.
The dismantling of Seyuz comes at a time when many spaces for nature are shrinking. Pierre-Alexandre Métral, a geographer at the University of Grenoble-Alpes who studies abandoned ski resorts, says: “There is a lot of debate about the nature of this dismantling – is it just removing mechanical things or are we trying to return the mountains to some sort of original state?”
Ecological restoration could be full of surprises, he says, noting that trail maintenance could be beneficial for some alpine flowers. “If we allow nature to return spontaneously—in a wild, uncontrolled way—there is a risk that some invasive species, which tend to be stronger, may colonize more quickly,” says Métral.
Research in this area is sparse, but studies conducted Closure of Valkotos ski resort in the Sierra de Guadarrama in Madrid in 1999 showed that it led to significant restoration of native vegetation and clearing of waterways, while reducing soil erosion.
“These are laboratories for what the mountain could be like in the future with new closures,” Metral says.
On the brink
The question of what to do with these places will be decided in the mountains of Europe and around the world. Skiing disappears from many alpine landscapes. “A lot of the lower ones are already closed,” says Masson. “A fraction of a degree makes all the difference in a mountain environment. It's the difference between snow and no snow.”
Research shows that with global warming of 2°C (3.6F), more than half of existing resorts are at risk of having too little snow. High mountain resorts are vulnerable to loss of permafrostthreatening the pylons drilled into it. Some resorts, such as Saint-Honoré 1500, were abandoned before construction was completed. Even larger resorts, which usually have the funds to invest in new pistes and artificial snow, struggling to survive.
To some, Sese's loss seems premature. Richard Klein, who lives in Roches-de-Arnaud, near Sezé, believes the ski resort could – and should – be saved. “It's a great place to learn to ski – it's the best. I think it's very stupid that they closed it,” he says. “There were always a lot of people there.” Klein believes local authorities should have started using artificial snow, adding: “It's too late now.”
However, life did not disappear from Sese. The Galliard Resort will be sold in October 2025 to a developer who wants to open it for events, Ricou-Charles said. A developer bought a children's holiday residence, and a carpenter moved into the building where the old ticket office was. In rooms used as children's holiday camps, cracks appear on the sides, but they may open again in the future.
“Sezeze will continue to live despite the loss of the resort,” says Ricoud-Charles. “We mourn Seuz not because he did not die.”
On winter weekends, dozens of cars still gather in the parking lot while people enjoy quieter hillside activities such as walking, snowshoeing, cross-country skiing and sledding.
Masson doesn't like the term “ghost resort” because it suggests complete abandonment when what's happening in his area is more complex. “People keep coming,” he says. “We don’t need big cars to make mountains attractive.”
What's happening at Sejuz is a glimpse into the future that awaits dozens of other small resorts and mountain landscapes around the world. Europe. “What is our heritage that we want to preserve?” – asks Masson. “What are the ruins that we want to dismantle? This is a question we have to ask every time, and it requires some thought.”






