Cima Lepri and Peschio Palombo with an exceptional guide

The day comes together partly by chance, partly out of a wish to bring together the friends from the CAI (Italian Alpine Club) group of Frascati. With Maurizio the “Cima Lepri” (Hares' Peak) chapter had been left open, and discovering the overhanging walls of Peschio Palombo had hugely excited me. Many spoke of the interesting, sharp ridge of Peschio Palombo as a very exposed ridge. Undoubtedly the southern side is overhanging, but you can hardly speak of an exposed ridge when the ridge itself turns out to be very broad and safe, covered on its northern side by open grassy slopes that drop away (steeply, admittedly) but are never really exposed.

We leave the car just after Voceto, near a small fork that on one side leads towards the little church of San Martino and on the other towards the path that leads to Colle San Giovanni and Fonte del Moro.

The path runs up to the col on a wide and very easy dirt track. There's no chance of mistaking the route, which moves through a landscape that isn't even very wooded.

At Colle San Giovanni, which sits right at the foot of Peschio Palombo, we begin to see a few traces of snow, especially in the stretches that stay in the shade. The snow, all things considered, is scant and all the sun-facing slopes are completely free of it. We move under a group of small trees slightly to the north and start climbing the steep start of Peschio Palombo. This is probably the most technically tiresome point. Grass, stones and the typical crumbly sandstone of the Laga. It's not very safe moving in this terrain. Joking, I start hacking at the earth and grass with my axe to help myself up: the so-called “green-tooling”. We laugh... but we also stay very careful not to do anything careless.
Fabio was worried about his knee; he had warned me there was a chance the day would go “udderly” wrong. By way of reply I had reassured him that if the day was going to go “udderly” wrong, who cares... the important thing was to give it a go.

The truth is that Fabio has the pace of a real hare... I struggle to keep up with him, my puffing is in exact proportion to my 80 kilos by now. I've always said it... a sedentary life and work will kill you... Keeping a steady pace I follow Fabio, who keeps gaining height until he reaches the summit of Peschio Palombo. Now we can also make out the outline of the summit of Cima Lepri. Monte Gorzano and Pizzo di Sevo are partly covered in snow, the little gullies that score these mountains are full down to about 1600 metres, but the snow still looks really scant for the season.

Once on the Peschio Palombo ridge the route becomes just a question of stamina. Fabio's pace is excellent; I realise that too much inactivity has wasted my muscles...

We reach the Sella di Piè di Lepre to grab a bite. We put on more layers because the wind is picking up (it's the thermal inversion typical of this time of day). Just time to drink and eat and we're back on our way. There's the last pull of about 300 metres to climb. Forty-five minutes will be enough and we'll be on the summit.
At 2200 metres we start to find snow; it's crunchy but we don't break through, so we move quite quickly. On the summit a very strong, icy wind is blowing; we take a few photos quickly and hole up in a hollow just below the summit: the ideal place to munch another bite and set off again towards the Cavallo di Voceto.

Fabio points out every single place, he knows every single name. He has done the Via Ranna with a group of friends, and the Tracciolino di Annibale. When he talks about these mountains his eyes shine and I envy him a little, because he is deeply bound to these places. He sees things that I, a city rascal, can't really see.

To reach the Cavallo di Voceto he suggests the descent by the western shoulder that starts from the saddle between Pizzo di Sevo and Cima Lepri. We quickly walk the ridge joining the two summits until we find the start of the shoulder. From here we descend on steep open grassy slopes. We go down fast to get out of the force of the wind, which is freezing our jaws. In less than twenty minutes we reach the Cavallo di Voceto. I can see the whole Peschio Palombo ridge as I had never seen it before. A very wide panorama, not particularly evocative but interesting.
I'm fascinated by the valley that winds between the Cavallo di Voceto and Cima Lepri. There are wide gullies coming down from the summit and scoring the whole ridge. I feel like climbing them with the classic crampon-and-ice-axe technique. That'll be for another year.

From the Cavallo di Voceto we go down and down to the channel where the meltwater from the ice collects. I've run out of water so I decide to fill my bottle from the little stream that has formed right under the snow. I drink almost half a litre; it's icy, it has sandy particles in suspension (normal for surface water) but it's delicious and the refreshment it gives is priceless.

These are Fabio's memories... “It was lovely when you went up the mountain with wine, bread and cheese to stay a few hours, eat, relax and maybe have a good sleep in the sun. What sleeps... we used to have.”

Something like that had happened to me too... but the hurry to collect summits too often made me run along the paths rather than bother to enjoy the mountain itself.

If on the one hand I'd like to devote myself more to “life in the mountains”, as a time for being and living and enjoying the surroundings more slowly, on the other hand my vision of the mountains is broadening. I also find pleasure in the technical and athletic gesture of mountaineering.

What I seem to have understood is that there's room for both things, always lived in this marvellous setting but without ever losing that desire for well-being that should spring from the mountains.

At Colle San Giovanni we go down quickly until we get back to the dirt track, which soon takes us back to the car. We are satisfied and full of satisfaction for a pleasant day, a demanding but broad-breathed hiking loop on the fascinating Laga mountains.