Build Corrugated Iron Fence

On top of the Horns of Medale

15 November 2009

Excursions month of November are among the most difficult to organize. We are in mid-stream: on the one hand, the hot summer trails with mackerel is being replaced by the winter, with snow and short days. But November also has its own offering in November and also because of his saints trips: those quiet ones most difficult, as today the Horn Medal. Of course, the share goes down, but not the physical effort and technical falls. We have nothing to prove, but only to live this day, leaving the shadow of Resegone, where we ride in one of the few bars open.
Repeat after time the old road leading to Valsassina has a taste of old: it goes on the outskirts of Lecce, are sandwiched between the first turns gray houses and truck exhaust on one of these turns, you leave the province to enter the town of Ranchi.
Here, at absolutely no early (are 8:15), but given the type of terrain I wanted to keep stock of any time to deal with hypothetical problems, who'll tell you, there will be.

It starts on the trail that leads to high fraction of Ranchi and here we enter the forest, having left behind and persimmon orchards. The vertical wall of the Medal is there looking at us: it is impressive from below, and more than one is wondering (and you are asking) where the trail passes cabbage. Everyone knows that climbs here and there even a mangy railway, but the path where is it? I let them cook in the broth to not spoil the surprise. After
networks para stones begin to roll (even if it was not coke would go faster than that), driven also by the many exhortations that some bontempone painted on the rock: "Vecio up with the mule," "Are you tired walking," until the classic "This is hard." Arzilli crossed two gentlemen who are walking our own path and one of them is an ultra-seventies, the facciaccia of those who think that the rides are just stuff from hypo-thirties.
Now the trail becomes narrow, damp, and above all starts to pump that is a pleasure ... pleasure of those who do not know, but you sweat that is a marvel. There is little to celiare at this time and my eyes are focused a bit 'in front, a bit' down where I put my feet and a bit 'behind to make sure everything travel without problems. Today there is only one "newbie", but who has a physique that rivals Einstein, dropping my natural concern.
We enter a world of vertical limestone, swooping down on the peak Valsassina, still mostly green. The top of the Medal is there, but what impresses most is its wall-to-peak. Some pictures and resume pumping, while the Lake Garlate begins to be seen.
's arrival at the top is sudden and unexpected. Dominates the mega metal cross that does so much "Modern Times". In two hours we arrived, burning all the times I had anticipated. But the rest will inevitably be short: a cap, a touch of chocolate, a drink and then off again, as we sit still pretty darn cool. But there are those who can not resist going to see where the strike ends: try to appear, but the vertical is so much, he can not miss to see the cable that goes down at breakneck speed.

It 's the time of the piece that I like most: a long coastline of cliffs and rocks, which unites the top of the Medal to that of S. Martino. Fatigue is minimized while the technical rate flies up to ... flies is the right word, because just a moment of inattention to fly down, do not advisable. Here already it happen too many accidents, especially along the railway, to the point that paved the runway to the helicopter, which here often have a lot of trouble.
Go down and climb, up and down, his hands on the rocks or the tinkle of the tips of the rods that hold up during the descent, we arrive at the junction leading to Crocione of Mount S. Martino. In ten minutes we are at the cross, which is just a Crocione, but this time made of wood. The lunch stop is at the peak visible at Lecco suits the surrounding peaks.

The other time I got here, I opted for the descent to the trail from St. Martin down to the hut, returning just cross the junction. But from the top I see people going up and that tells me that from there you can go back to the track that Rancio. I propose to change the band in progress and we start to fall ... damn it, I knew the trail was steep, but this beats it by far and lose altitude due to the slope in a flash, which is considered the oratory of San Martino. I can still hear the creaking knees and the creaking of vibram on the rocks.

E 'very soon, I miss the one and think "Not at this time we want to return to Milan?". I therefore propose an extension to the church of St. Martin, where there is also a refuge, that Sunday should be opened. Convinced the band that certainly does not pray, and we resumed our journey. Shortly after we meet a couple of people during descent: it is the operator of the shelter, not having customers, has seen fit to close the cabin and puppets to return to the valley. "Big deal" I think "And now as the beak of the Tomino is known in the refuge?".
With a beautiful passage in the coast overlooking the Lecco branch of Lake Como we arrive at the church of St. Martin, where other hikers were parked in the open, all united by a single thought: "If only the shelter was open ... "
camped here there is also Emilio, whom I met during one of the courses recently held GPS. E 'with some friends, but above all know at the area like the back of his hand, dispensing advice on new rounds to go. I take this opportunity, but rather take advantage, and there we drive to the entrance of the mysterious Val Verde, which we sang the praises and praises efforts. For the second time we broaden our scope of action and following a path beaten by a dozen hikers a year, we come to a collar which shows access to the Val Verde: steep, mangy, wild ... because of all this is interesting, very interesting and I just going to make a walk to get to know its strengths and weaknesses.
Meanwhile, in a geography quiz, a dispute arises as to whether it is deeper than Lake Como or to Iseo. My oldest now I suggest the first school reminiscences, but some say the opposite ... "Mmmm," I think "I must be careful. This shady characters I already have a latch beer, won a similar challenge but on the ground, astronomical ..." But the challenge appeals to me and in front of 10 witnesses, drafted the new rules of the bet.

return it to the church and its Pratoni and then we start again for the descent, which turns out to be slippery and mangy, just as it should be. There is no appeal
the final drink, no small undertaking in a Sunday afternoon here on the outskirts of Lecco. Let's try the bar in the morning, but it is closed. We try a second with a similar fate. Then we sneak in the center Germanicus in search of an imaginary circle, but passing in front of a sandwich bar, I declare the search over.
The room is empty and a bit 'sad, but the joy puts the Tiger, with his work again confectionery: a mega-tart made with brown Calabria. After a moment of silence thinking about the sad fate of males and Reggio Cosenza, we are dedicated to the bacchanal.

A day in the mountains in the middle of November, many called it a season, but life do their crazy these wretches with whom I've done a really great walk today.

PS. And the bet? Oh, dear boys, this time I took my revenge: Lake Como is not only deeper than Iseo, but of all Italy ... I have the mouth watering at the thought of coca scroccherò that the next time ;-)

So it begins ... great encouragement!