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Wednesday 5 November 2008
It could have been a terrible day. But it was up to me to think it over, calmly, without putting on the usual pointless Italian-style tragicomedies. Getting out of Rome at rush hour can take, depending on the neighbourhood, from one to two hours. I did fairly well: an hour and a half was enough.
I knew the weather would not be the best; the forecast announced clouds passing over the whole of Italy, getting worse in the afternoon. So on the Grande Raccordo Anulare I had time to put a strategy together.
I would take the motorway link road that goes from Fiano Romano towards the Salaria, then I would head towards Rieti to see how the weather was going: if it was bad I would go up the Terminillo, if instead it had improved I would go to the Sibillini. But while I think and reflect, a huge lorry plants itself in front of me and … surprise of surprises, I miss the Fiano Romano exit... oh God... I automatically find myself on the motorway to Florence.
OK, plan “b”. I exit at Orte and head towards Terni, take the Valnerina from Spoleto and drive up to Ussita.
I arrive in Ussita at 11.45, drive up towards Casali and, before entering the little village, I turn left onto a very clearly visible gravel road. A little white road that winds for 13 km up to Rifugio del Fargno. Long, 13 very long kilometres, but luckily on a little road wide enough for two cars to pass comfortably.
I reach Rifugio del Fargno after 30 minutes of hops and little hops over the many stones and potholes of the gravel road. It is 12.15: it is shameful to start a hike at this hour, especially with these clouds gathering on the summits. But I have decided not to think about it...
From the Fargno you can see Pizzo Tre Vescovi, Monte Acuto and Pizzo Berro. I set off, without hesitation; there is no point dwelling on the intrinsic quality of this hike that started badly. No point. I am here now, I have to make it happen.
I head straight for Pizzo Berro, passing along the flanks of Pizzo Tre Vescovi but without climbing it. At Forca Argagnola I can see Monte della Priora (also called Pizzo della Regina). The long ridge of the Berro presents no particular hiking difficulties; the path bends north, and as you climb you always have the feeling you have arrived, when behind each hump there is always another one. This unpleasant feeling gets sharper when you are in a hurry, yes, because besides it already being late, the clouds show no sign of improving.
At last, on the summit of Pizzo Berro, I have the whole mountain group before my eyes. Clouds cover the surrounding summits here and there. The Sibilla has disappeared behind a big black cloud heavy with water. Argentella, Porche, Palazzo Borghese vanish at times behind white clouds, still undecided for now.
Beyond the ridge that leads to Monte Priora, on the western side, great masses of cloud create a strange effect: on one side the light, on the other the dark.
I am undecided. Then, thinking it over... I won't be back here so easily. OK, the rain cape is in the rucksack, the path is waymarked, I can't get lost, at worst I get a bit wet.
The ridge is shorter than expected, almost shorter than the ridge leading from the Fargno to Pizzo Berro. In forty minutes I am on the summit of Monte Priora. It is ten past two. As a kind of “ex-voto” I give up the glorious summit photo in exchange for a grace... no photo, no rain.
I photograph the summit cross and set off again without even drinking a sip of water. In an hour I am at Forca Argagnola, following the path that skirts Pizzo Berro on its north side. At times I am lit up by the sun, at times I lose myself in the clouds. In front of me I have Pizzo Tre Vescovi; it seems so close I feel I could touch it. However, the climb to Pizzo Tre Vescovi is longer than expected. I have kept up an unprecedented pace and I feel exhausted. I haven't drunk, I haven't eaten. I am in pieces and the climb takes almost forty minutes. I reach the summit; there is a big cross. I am in the middle of a heavy cloud and it is starting to get dark. It is four o'clock.
The goal was to put Monte Acuto in the “carnet” too. It is late and I am physically wrecked, I don't know the area and there is a real risk of getting lost. I have to give up.
The descent from Pizzo Tre Vescovi presents no particular problems (apart from loose rubble and “grade I” moves as unpredictable as they are improbable. I reach the car... it is twenty past four.
The whole loop took me four hours over an up-and-down route ten kilometres long.
As I leave, the Sun waves me goodbye; it seems to be saying see you soon. I still have Monte Acuto to see, and then that strange, distant summit that is Monte Rotondo.
Who knows when...
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