A climb without a camera...

24 April 2006

When you're thirty you're at the peak of your physical strength and you have that minimum of life experience that lets you move quickly and easily through the world without feeling disoriented. Even when you're apparently lost. Getting out over the last few months has become easier. I set off more and more often; from my first experiences I've discovered that it takes a certain dose of recklessness, a little courage and lots, lots, lots of goodwill. Getting up at four in the morning to be out in the freezing cold a few hours later is a really fine test of... madness.

Once you reach the ruins of the Sirente chalet (all that was left of the chalet were four stones of an old fireplace), you park the car, choosing among the large car parks provided for tourists. From here you go up along a clearly visible mule track to the right of the ruins.

Be careful in winter: the rumour that you can have trouble finding your way in the beech wood is true. To reach the foot of the Canale Majori you can follow the "M"s marked on the trees... but be careful not to miss one... Finally you come out of the beech wood at 1500 m on Colle Ialone, from where you start slogging away slowly and steadily. A first hump imposes a gradient close to 50 degrees. Take extreme care, especially during the thaw: stones, some of them large, keep coming down the gully; here a helmet ought to be compulsory practice. Straight after the step you bear slowly to the left, climbing up to the saddle of the Majori. Here, after about 600 metres of height gain, a break is a must; you take off your crampons to get past the little mixed moves on the small rocks that border the saddle. The climb to the summit along the humps rising from the south side is trivial and of little scenic interest. The view from the summit, on the other hand, is extremely rewarding: with a clear sky you can see the Gran Sasso, Majella, Velino and Simbruini. The day would have been perfect had the batteries in my camera not died... the mountain will stay only in my eyes.

At 12.00 I finally decide to go down; the descent by the Canale Majori, crowded with ski mountaineers, will turn out to be impossible for me: under my crampons the transformed snow keeps balling up into a slippery clog. After going down 50 metres into the gully I decide to climb back up and descend by the Valle Lupara, bare of snow in places and with a far gentler gradient. The Valle Lupara, much less claustrophobic than the Canale Majori and bathed in shining sun, turns out to be of breathtaking beauty. At 1500 m in the beech wood there are still the traces of a recent avalanche that snapped trees and shifted heavy boulders. The climb ends with a peaceful walk in the beech wood on the mule track that leads me slowly back to the car park, where a few hungry mountaineers are smoking fragrant, tasty sausages in the fireplace of the late chalet…