Monte Amaro, October 18, 2013, Parco Nazionale della Maiella

The view at 8,000 feet, entering the Valle di Femmina Morta, Amaro Massif

There is a hiking community in central Italy. Local hiking groups, calling themselves the Alpini, support trails, maintain hiking huts, chart hiking maps, and organize peakbagging outings. They even have their own peakbagging list - Il Club di 2000 Metri. It's an impressive list of the peaks in the Appennine Mountains that are more than 6,561 feet, or 2,000 meters, in elevation. There are also plenty of smaller peaks, so I decided to create my own list of Abruzzo hikes to points 3,500 feet in elevation and higher - the Abruzzo 3500.

Monte Amaro is the second highest peak in central Italy. It's also the most prominent peak on the Sulmona skyline, towering above the hundreds of smaller mountains that surround it. When we've been on the summits of nearby Monte Mileto (6,240 feet) and Mattone (4,285 feet), Monte Amaro literally cast its massive shadow down on us. The Amaro summit itself is 9,163 feet. The high elevation, moonscape-like valley that you have to cross to get there begins at 8,000 feet.

I opted to take the Via Normale del Sud to Monte Amaro, which follows either the Fonte di Nunzio or Fonte Romano trails near Passo San Leonardo. Those who tackle Amaro from the north actually drive up most of the elevation, parking their cars at the La Maielletta ski area and effecting a traverse. The route from the south, by contrast, requires climbing the elevation on foot. I parked on the side of the road at the Fonte di Nunzio trailhead at 7:45 AM and set off on the well marked Q5 trail through an open meadow and into the tree-covered lower section of the mountain.

I found the trail very well marked with recently-erected wooden signs and painted blazes. The Fonte dell'Orso, located where the treeline ends, produced no more than a slow drip. I had hoped to down a bottle of water here and fill up for the ascent. Not liking the looks of it and without a filter, I decided against it.

Out of tree line, the trail follows a long diagonal to the southeast where it joins another trail coming in from the south. After turning due east on the Q1 trail, the real climbing begins. Well blazed and following a clear track, the big problem is the footing as the trail switches back steeply and consistently over loose scree. Once at the top, the vertigo-inducing view from 8,000 feet back down to the treeline made me a little nervous about the forthcoming descent.

At this point, the trail proceeds into a high elevation valley called the Valle di Femmina Morta, or Valley of the Dead Woman. I never found out how it got that eerie name. Frankly, I didn't want to know.

Upon entering the valley, the trail turns sharply to the north to reveal the rounded Monte Amaro summit cone way off on the horizon. It is identifiable from afar by the rust red dome-shaped shelter - the Pelino Bivouac - located right on the summit. The trail towards to summit follows cairns and blazes over a disorienting, lunar-like landscape which I would most definitely avoid in anything other than optimal weather. The summit doesn't seem that far off, but it is. The landscape here is really deceptive.

The Grotta Canosa, a cave along the approach route to the summit cone, proved to be the high water mark of my hike. Once I got a little beyond it, I stopped at a small outcropping on the final, slightly-graded trail up to the summit in order to take a breather, drink the last of my water, and check the time. Evaluating the situation, I decided that I was pretty tired from covering well over 4,000 feet of vertical climb only a few days after doing 5,000+ on Monte Morrone. Also, if I turned around now, I might be able to make it back in time for a late lunch. I mulled it over and over in mind, not sure of what to do. Finally, I decided to heed an inner voice telling me that it would be best to head back. The descent was harder than expected, but I made it back to the car at 1:30. All told, the up and back of the Amaro massif took 5 1/2 hours.

Peak: Monte Amaro (Grotta Canosa)
Elevation: Summit (2793 meters - 9,163 feet); Grotta: 2604 meters - 8,543 feet) 
Gain: 1355 meters (4,475 feet)  
Distance: 16 km (10 miles) round trip, up and back to grotta
Conditions: Sunny, 60 degrees F at trail head; 30 degrees on summit trail

Santo Stefano di Sessanio to Rocca Calascio, October 17, 2013, Parco Nazionale del Gran Sasso

We started the day in Barisciano, a little hill town outside of L'Aquila, so that K could meet up with her Italian wool buddies and procure a supply of local yarn for the coming year. The good thing about Barisciano is that it is perfectly situated for exploring the Gran Sasso National Park, which is just a short (but steep and windy) 15km to the north. So we used to opportunity to drive up to Santo Stefano di Sessanio to hike one of our favorite trekking routes of last year.

Instead of parking in the town proper, we took the auto road towards the Campo Imperatore and made the first right past the snow gate which leads to this dirt road. We just parked here and bushwacked a short distance to the southeast, essentially shaving off the initial part of last year's hike where we started in the town proper and climbed up to the hill above town.

The near perfect weather made for breathtaking views in all directions, especially on the approach route that follows the ridge line up a long hill ascent along this barbed wire fence. To the south, the panorama is of mountain peaks as far as the eye can see.

To the north, the skyline is dominated by the Corno Grande... the highest mountain in Italy outside of the Alps. Yes, that's the very same mountain that we got blown off of the year before due to gale force winds. Just looking at it from afar gives you the sense of how menacing it might be.

We soon passed the Madonna della Pieta church, the end point of this hike last year. It's a dramatic building, especially when set against the backdrop of a blue, cloudless sky with the Corno in the distance. K, bringing up the rear, tried to get in. But once again, we found the building locked.

This year, we pressed on past the church to reach Rocca Calascio - the highest elevation castle in all of Italy. Since it was a weekday, we only encountered two people during our exploration and lunch break at this very popular place. A guidebook says it has been used as a set for movies. I'd like to know which ones.

Though in partial ruin, the castle's four ramparts are still intact, with arrow slits looking out in all directions. It is not hard to fathom how invincible this strategic location must have been. The keep, unfortunately, was locked.

Leaving the castle, we opted for a direct return to the car via our approach route instead of attempting a loop. The day also included two long breaks at an outcropping of boulders along the ridge line about midway between the starting point and the castle. For two years in a row, we've used this location to rest, relax, and marvel at the beauty of central Italy.

Hermitage of San Bartolomeo 2, October 14, 2013, Parco Nazionale della Maiella

We returned to Decontra for the short hike to the Hermitage of San Bartolomeo in the Maiella's Santo Spirito River Gorge for two reasons. One: On our first visit there, we had really enjoyed the open landscape, the backdrop of jagged mountains, the melodious sound of thousands of buzzing bees, and the cultural experience of exploring a Catholic chapel carved into the cliff walls. Two, we wanted to see our friend "biscotto" - the little black and white dog that accompanied us on the same hike the year before.

We parked the car in Decontra, next to the church, and got out of our Ford Fiesta rental (what, no Fiat?) with the secret hope of "biscotto" scampering out of the bushes and greeting us like old friends. We listened, waited, even called. But it was not meant to be. So we set off on our hike with a reconfirmed notion that biscotto was indeed a "ghost dog sherpa." At the stone well at the end of the auto road, we noticed some new signage. Especially a very prominent one announcing the emergency number for mountain rescue in Abruzzo. Yikes.

Following the same trail as last year, we soon emerged into the open landscape that we cherished so endearingly last year. In parts, the fields are filled with stone piles likely gathered and stacked by shepherds hundreds of years ago to build shelters and sheep pens.

In the Maiella, park officials and local hiking groups are working together to remark many of the trails. We observed a lot of new signage that didn't exist last year. Problem: Some signs contain distances in kilometers; others in time... i.e., the hours and minutes that it takes to get to that destination. Seeing the sign above, we figured that another hermitage that we had not seen the year before was only 2.5 kilometers away. Why not? Let's do it.

The trail towards the Hermitage of Santo Spirito was very pleasant, descending through tall beech trees along a well graded 4x4 track with the river and gorge to our left (north). As we plodded along for an hour without reaching our destination, we realized the error. The sign really meant it would take 2 1/2 hours to get to the hermitage. Since we had envisioned the day as a short hike, we decided to turn around. As we retraced our steps, we blamed both the signs and our own stupidity for the error.

At the junction, we headed towards the Hermitage of San Bartolomeo and found the same picnic spot that we had shared with our canine friend the year before. From this spot, located just before the trail descends into the gorge, one has an incredible view of the cliffside shrine. We decided not to visit the Hermitage this year, opting instead for an extended rest at the picnic spot before returning to the car.

Monte Morrone, October 13, 2013, Parco Nazionale della Maiella

Monte Morrone, my nemesis in 2012, became the first solo hike of the 2013 trip to Abruzzo. The year before, I had attempted the peak from the east via the Q7 from Roccacaramanico and the ensuing steep series of switchbacks up the Rava del Confine. I only got as far as the rifugio below the summit when fog set in, forcing me to descend or risk getting seriously lost above treeline. This year, I decided to make the approach from the west, via the "S" trail from Badia.

At 2141 meters - more than 7,000 feet - Monte Morrone is a huge mountain and one of what I call the "big three" peaks that overlook the city of Sulmona, our home base when visiting Italy. Knowing it would be a long haul over  whopping 5,000 feet of elevation gain, I arrived at the head of the S trail at daybreak. Fortunately, it is just a short, 15 minute drive from Sulmona to Badia and the trailhead is conveniently found just off the road to the Hermitage of San D'Onofrio. The S trail doesn't appear on the Edizioni Il Lupo Maiella map, but it does show up on the park's recently-issued Carta Turistica map. K got me a copy at the Sulmona tourist office.

The climbing starts almost immediately, with the trail crossing a meadow, entering a ravine, and then switching back to bring you high above the parking area with Badia and the valley far below. Next, it is up, up, up via switchbacks through pine woods with occasional intersections with forest roads. The trail has been recently remarked with plenty of blazes and new signs, making navigating fairly easy.

The first leg of the hike ends at the Rifugio Le Vicenne (apparently also known as La Cassetta) which sits on an open meadow at the edge of tree line with views back into the valley. As with most of the Italian huts, it is fenced off to keep out cattle, sheep, and horses that graze on the mountains. The building was open, with signs of recent use including stacked wood and fresh tomatoes on a table.

At the rifugio, the trail does get difficult to follow. A small red and white marker on the side of the hut points to the right (east/southeast) but it just says "Morrone," not "S." I set of in the direction of the arrow, following a noticeable trail through the open space to the right in the above photograph. I followed the track for a short while, but stopped to check the map when I realized that there had been no blazes since the rifugio. I backtracked to the hut and realized that the "S" trail actually proceeded through the middle of this tree cluster, not around it.

Once through the tree cluster, the S trail proceeds across a small meadow and through another copse of trees. The problem there was that a stone marker on the other side of the meadow had been toppled. I stayed on what I knew needed to be a northerly course with the compass and soon found the trail on the other side of the trees. From that point on, the trail proceeds steeply above treeline through open meadows littered with stones. The markers are spaced just at the edge of one's line of sight - easy enough to follow but still requiring focus, good eyesight, and clear weather (which I had). I spotted a herd of wild horses and startled a young chamois that bounded out of some undergrowth and disappeared into the mountain scape.

Finally, the S trail reaches the summit ridge where it crosses the Q3 coming from Passo San Leonardo. On the ridge, the markers are harder to follow. I proceeded to the right around a rocky outcropping and then took sight of the summit a little farther along. Marked by a cross and a memorial plaque, the Morrone summit offers sweeping views in all directions. My favorite was the view of the Amaro range to the southeast. I took a short break on the summit, and then began my descent. Back to the trailhead by 1:30 pm, the up and back hike took 6 hours and 15 minutes.

Peak: Monte Morrone

Elevation: 2141 meters (7,024 feet); Gain: 5,383 feet

Distance: 16 km (9.9 miles) roundtrip 

Conditions: Sunny, 60 degrees F

Notable Fauna: Chamois, wild horses