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Once again work commitments have kept me nailed to the armchair in front of the computer, both Saturday and Sunday. At the last minute and on the spur of the moment, though, I manage to organise a midweek hike with Alessandro, my trusty meteorologist.
The window of good weather is about to close and we have to make the most of it before the bad weather keeps us shut up indoors.
We set off with the aim of reaching a small group of eastern summits of the P.N.L.A.M. (Abruzzo, Lazio and Molise National Park). This is the mountain subgroup next to the larger Monti della Meta group. We are talking about the summits of Rocca Altiera and Cima di Bellaveduta which, together with Cima di Serra Matarazzo and Colle Nero, make up an interesting massif stretching from Forca d'Acero to Val Canneto.
After gathering plenty of information, Alessandro and I set off rather late. We are at the starting point at 9 in the morning; I rarely allow myself to start a hike this late. Very slowly I am rediscovering a rhythm and a relaxation I had not found for a long time. Strangely, by some logic I can't remember, I ended up loading an undefined stress even onto my way of going to the mountains. The goal for this 2011 is to recover the “patience” and the “serenity” of going to the mountains without competition, without hurry, without frenzy of any kind, not even the frenzy of arriving late or arriving early.
From Settefrati you follow the road that leads to Val Canneto. The starting point is a large car park near the Valico di Canneto, a hairpin bend overlooking Val Canneto. We leave the car and the day seems to promise well. The sun is already high even though the temperature is still quite bitter.
From the pass you follow the ridge straight up, as straight as can be, towards the heights.
The sun is magnificent and within half an hour we are already hot and sweaty. Taking off your jacket, though, is a risky move. The sweat freezes quickly on the skin, a paradoxical and decidedly unpleasant sensation. It is very much like the idea of a cold sweat.
Following the ridge along its line of steepest ascent you gain height quickly, until you come out of the wood and meet the dirt track coming up from much further down. This dirt track actually starts from the same road coming from Settefrati, but we deliberately ignored it to gain a hundred metres or so of height.
Out of the wood we start to see the first traces of snow (not much), but soft enough to slow our pace. True to our choice of taking it easy, we take our time to live the moment. We also slow down on the excuse of taking a few photos. The day seems to be holding and the sun shines high. Strange banks of cloud, however, are gathering in the distance over Monte Cairo and Monte Baghella. It must be the morning condensation. We carry on without worrying too much about it. Alessandro guarantees clouds only in the afternoon. I have to trust him; after all, he is: the Oracle.
We finally leave the wood behind and reach a flat clearing from which we can see the whole chain of the Monti della Meta. A wonderful chain. For a few moments I mistake “La Meta” for the Tartaro... then, when I am on the ridge, the overall picture of the mountains is clear and limpid. From the summit of “La Meta” to the distant “Monte Petroso”. I can also see the Balzo della Chiesa and, if my eyes don't deceive me, I think I can also make out the Capraro.
The view is magnificent. The snow brings out the outlines and makes the rocky features of this imposing mountain chain stand out even more. I am already very impressed, and this alone would be enough to make this hike a great day. Looking north I see some summits, but they are only the buttresses of Rocca Altiera. The higher we climb the harder the snow seems to get; still, in places we find patches of soft snow that make us sink and make the climb tiring and demanding.
After another steep pull we reach a wide bowl known on the map as Guado delle Capre. We are already tired and there is still a lot to do; at last we can see the summit of Rocca Altiera, so we decide not to wander about too much and prefer to head straight for the summit. This too is an attitude I would like to change. I gave up exploring the Guado delle Capre, with its view over the valley, in exchange for one more summit. On exactly this point I am beginning to think that collecting summits is an excellent pretext for getting to know the territory. Yet the goal of the summit has trapped me in a mechanism that, to some extent, stops me from exploring that same territory the way I would like.
Higher up the snow is decidedly icy and the going is easier. For the last steep pull to the top we are forced to put on crampons. It is only 50 metres, but the lie of the land demands it. Right below the small icy snowfield there is a little drop of a hundred metres. Not much, but potentially fatal if you slip.
The summit is not particularly beautiful in itself. In fact it occurs to me that no “summit” is beautiful in itself.
The summit of a mountain is, in fact, the only place from which you cannot see the mountain you have climbed. You can, however, see views towards summits you can still long for. I can only understand that it is not so much the summit you are standing on that has value; far more important is the summit you can still long for. If you think of the "Summit Yet to Come" then... there is a future, there is hope.
In the distance Cima di Bella Veduta; on the sunny slope the chamois are grazing, trying to crop the few blades of grass poking out of the snow. They watch us, they are fearful and shy, and with every step they move to keep the distance between them and us.
The walk from Rocca Altiera to Cima di Bellaveduta takes us less than thirty minutes. We keep up a brisk pace because I have noticed the first clouds. They are rising at a speed that worries me. In fact we went very slowly, and just to climb Rocca Altiera it took us four hours. I can't photograph the chamois the way I would like; they are so shy that as soon as I try to get closer I set off a sudden, frantic stampede.
We are forced to climb the last stretch with crampons and ice axe. The frozen snow has made the ground hard going. From the summit you can enjoy a wonderful view over the whole mountain group. In the distance the lesser summits of Serra Matarazzo and Colle Nero.
When I turn towards the Valico di Canneto I freeze. The clouds are racing and blotting everything out. We can't stay. If the clouds cover the wide snowy plateaus we seriously risk getting lost. We need to reach the dirt track before the clouds cover everything.
It's unpleasant, but I impose a forced march on Alessandro. He too realises we must not get lost, since that would mean a good number of extra kilometres and, given my physical state, that is not exactly what I was looking for.
The return to the dirt track is a massacre for the legs, but we make it just in time, before being wrapped in an ambiguous, insidious fog.
When we reach the car the sky has turned gloomy but not threatening; we are satisfied all the same with the hike and with the many photos taken in a setting I had long wanted to see under snow.
All that remains is the wish to slow my pace, to give myself time to fix in my eyes the images of this mountain which, too often lately, rushes past in front of me.
We recommend everyone a visit to the little village of Settefrati, a really well-kept place, even if it gives the feeling of being mostly uninhabited.
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