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.