Cime della Laghetta and the Cascate delle Cento Fonti

Alessandro and Elena don't like the middle-of-the-night alarm calls; for some time now they have had the excellent habit of sleeping, the night before a hike, close to the mountains they choose to visit. It's a good habit that had become necessary for the Alpe di Succiso, but that I would now like to make more my own, even in the case of nearer mountains.
It's a habit every good hiker should adopt, if only to keep the economy going in these countryside areas, in these mountains ever more depopulated and by now too abandoned to themselves.

The meeting point is at 7:30  at the Albergo Ponte Rocchetta, at Nerito. A modest but dignified little hotel, in a strategic position between the nearby Monte Corvo and the southern summits of the Laga.

Alessandro is a real fan of the Monti della Laga, which combine water, woods and summits in a mix of gentle, fascinating shapes. Alessandro's wish is to visit the Cascate delle Cento Fonti following the path that starts from Cesacastina and climbs along the Costa delle Troie.

Driven by an irrepressible need for clean air, I decide to let myself be taken along by good old Alessandro, who had been studying the route for months. I've had a look at the maps too, but I haven't planned anything; I'll let the day bear its fruit.

From Ponte Rocchetta we drive back up towards Nerito as far as a fork leading towards Cesacastina. Once through the village you follow the tourist signs for the Cascate delle 100 Fonti. You reach the edge of the village and take an easy gravel road, a dirt track packed with fine gravel that leads up to about 1300 metres. By car you carry on as far as a fork from where you can see an enormous shed, probably used as a cowshed, which disfigures a landscape of considerable interest.

The meadows are an almost unreal emerald green; in the distance I can make out the imposing bulk of the Gran Sasso massif. There are Monte Corvo, Pizzo Intermesoli, Corno Grande and the smaller bulk of Corno Piccolo. You can enjoy the beautiful Teramo side of the whole group. A side I had longed for for so many years but which, by some strange contrivance, I had never managed to visit.

At 8.40 we are on the path; a hiker is a couple of kilometres ahead of us, we see him strolling slowly with his dog, and we can't wait to plunge into the heart of the hike.

The dirt road goes on in wide bends; it is very easy and lets us gain height gradually. The morning light, so warm and welcoming, the green of the meadows, the wood, the newly sprouted leaves on the trees, the gentleness of the slopes... everything seems designed specially for me... the view and all the elements of the landscape remind me of something, from the gentleness of the Sibillini to the latest, most recent visit to the Alpe di Succiso.

The mistake isn't all that serious, just a bit grotesque and clumsy. I've forgotten the Laga map and Alessandro has brought a faded photocopy of the route. Through a trivial distraction the one forlorn scrap of paper ends up hidden in one of my pockets, presumed lost for most of the route. We are following the path when slowly we get the impression of losing height and moving too far away from our goal. We decide to cut across to a ridge not far away and start climbing straight up eastwards; we flounder a hundred metres or so through the wood when at last I manage to see the summit of the Montagnola, and this gives me the clear, sharp awareness  of being too far from the Cime della Laghetta.

In the sky only a few clouds wander aimlessly, rolling absent-mindedly over the summits of the Gran Sasso and into the distance. Alessandro has made his usual forecast: we know there will be no change in the weather for the next two days.

We climb up the wide meadows of these mountains. Grass, grass and more grass, tiring to climb; I'm already looking forward to a certain ease in coming back down. Descending on grass and on snow are the two ways I like best.

As we climb I begin to make out the rounded bulk of the Gorzano. Then suddenly I realise we are almost 1 km off our target. A long ridge stands out against the sky: it is the line of the Costa delle Troie, I recognise it well from having seen it from the top of Monte Gorzano.

When we reach the ridge the view of the Cime della Laghetta is exceptional. The whole valley is still fairly well covered in snow. All the gullies that drain the meltwater are still heavily covered in snow. We will probably see very little of the Cento Fonti. We carry on towards the Gorzano, partly because dropping into the valley is impossible and above all pointless. We arrive below the neck of Monte Gorzano and, keeping to the contour lines, we reach the Sella del Gorzano, from which at last we can look out over the wonderful view of Amatrice.
The first of the three Cime della Laghetta is also the highest; from the Sella del Gorzano it takes just 15 minutes to reach it. Carrying on, the other two summits are also less than 20 minutes from each other.
The view you can enjoy from the Cime della Laghetta is extraordinary. The perspective on the Lago di Campotosto is really unusual. I stop to film Alessandro and Elena walking step by step, side by side; they reach the first and then the second summit. I have the impression of watching them with an indiscreet eye, it feels as if I am wronging them, taking away from them such a special intimacy... that I'd like to lower my gaze. My thoughts run to my partner, to the wish to have her once again on these mountains, to share these feelings with her, in full complicity of intent.

Alessandro and Elena don't collect summits, so we choose to go down without the last of the three Cime della Laghetta. I don't attach any importance to collecting any more either; I will certainly come back, more to relive the green and the waters of this very rich mountain, perhaps to grant myself a day of rest, or a walk side by side with a friend who listens to you, or to be a shoulder to lean on for someone else who needs it.

The descent, as expected, is made easier by the wide patches of snow lying high up and by the grass of the soft dip slope so typical of the Laga. As I go down a strange smile is stamped on my face; I feel deeply gratified by a day without too many pretensions, lived in the name of serenity.

Between an “error” and a bit of “erring” we cover more than 16.5 km, with a total up-and-down height gain of more than 1200 metres.

Special thanks to Alessandro and Elena, who got me out of the house without too much insisting... heheh, partly because there would have been no need: everything happened in the most natural way possible.