Sibillini Park , August 5 2021

Halfway between the Italian Alps and the toe of Calabria, in the very middle of the country, lie the Sibillini Mountains. Tourists driving down the autostrada are surprised to see snow capped mountains so far south, and most just drive on past rushing to visit one of Italy’s top sights. Only an hour drive from the Adriatic shore, the Sibillini and the Grand Sasso range further south are visible from a large part of the eastern coast. 

View to the Adriatic, Monte Conero is on the horizon just above the peak on the left

When I first arrived in Italy, I never thought too much about these peaks either, that is until my mountain loving friend Gaga took me there for a hike. I’ve been enthralled with their beauty ever since. Last week was my first trek to Monte Sibilla. It’s the namesake for the range, and sits in the middle of the park. The mountains are cloaked in legends and named after the ancient oracles or Sibyls.  One of whom they say lived deep below Monte Sibilla, only accessible through a cave for those who dared to seek counsel.  Other peaks and lakes have their own legends but we’ll leave that for another day. 

My sure footed friend Gaga

We set out mid morning and packing a lunch and water supply began our hike to the summit. The weather was beautiful, and refreshingly cool compared to the sweltering heat on the coast. Beautiful, except for the wind, which grew stronger and stronger as we gained altitude. I will confess now to my fear of heights, and staggering on the rocks while fighting the wind certainly added to the damn fear factor. 

There aren’t many people on these trails and sometimes you can spend a day climbing and only come across a half dozen other enthusiasts. We did encounter a few flocks of sheep along the way and met their Shepard, a fellow from Gambia.  He was making a living as best he could, enduring the weather, the solitude and the wild. He told us how he and his dogs met up with some wolves a few months back, no doubt looking for a good place to eat.  

 From the refuge where we started the climb to the summit was a 700 meter altitude gain and took about an hour. All in all not too hard as these Sibillini climbs go, but the narrow rocky trail up is steep, and quite close to some sharp drops. The very top of the summit is like a crown with a steep rocky ring that requires you to pull yourself up on chains anchored in the rock.

Approaching the summit and it’s rocky crown

Making my way up the rock face using the chains provided

The reward for all this, other than the dopamine rush of reaching a named summit, is a view that is just spectacular.  In fact every step of the way you are treated to breathtaking panoramas. 

View from the top

Looking down the north side to the canyon named Gola dell’Infernaccio (Hell’s Gorge)

Trying not to blow over the side

Looking back from the far side of the summit

After winding our way down we headed to the small village of Foce in the valley below.  Most of these old small towns in the park have brutal scars from the earthquakes of five years ago.  The recovery is slow, some buildings sit half collapsed as they were the day it happened, others fenced off or reinforced.  The fifteen room BnB and restaurant we chose for ‘una merenda’ is named Taverna della Montagna, and had somehow survived intact as far as we could see. 

Water break after the summit. The village in the valley below is Foce

The earthquakes have continuously challenged the people of Italy for millenniums, shaped the landscape and transformed cities and towns. But this fact of Italian life does little to sooth the pain caused by the 2016-17 quakes which were particularly sad, so many people lost their lives and so many quant beautiful towns damaged. Towns that I had the good fortune to see before the shock, and now left so wounded you wonder if they can ever be brought back.

The glacial valley that leads to Lago di Pilato

At the rifugio we had some cheese and salumi and contemplated our next journey, a three hour hike from that point up the U shaped glacial valley to the high alpine lakes called Lago di Pilato. These little lakes are magical, pristine and sheltered by their position. Only someone who loves their beauty enough to endure the climb goes there, and those who do all share the greatest respect for the environment where they’re found. I’ve made the trek from the southern side several times but this would be a new approach that I can’t wait to do, and to write about.