The Deafening Silence

Day 4 - Monte Cinto

Had a brilliant evening last night in the restaurant with everyone - we all swapped e-mail addresses and promised to share photos when we got home...

I had a lie-in this morning till 5:30 (!), but after a relatively late night, I didn't really feel the benefit! I also managed to pitch my tent facing the wrong way up a slope, so had to spend the night with my head in the small end of the tent which stands a whole 12 inches tall!

So today, travelling light with just day sacks, Ben and I set off with our new found friends for the 6 hour trek up Monte Cinto - at 2,706m it's the highest peak on the island. As you'd expect, this involved prolonged stretches up uphillyness, but what made this different is the fact that Monte Cinto is in fact a large pile of very lose rock!

Two steps forward, one step back!

As we neared the top, the scree slopes gave way to scrambling - this time on a whole new level. The larger boulders were as loose as the smaller pebbles, so finding a secure hand hold was.... challenging!

The way to the summit was way marked by red splashes of paint on rocks. However, in my attempt to not to take the fast route to the valley floor, I had my head down and missed the marker. Once I realised this, I figured that when trying to climb the biggest thing on the island - If I just headed up, then I should be ok....

About 30 seconds after thinking this, I found my self standing on a 45 degree slope of loose rock facing a 6ft high smooth vertical wall. Deciding to go across and up, I stepped out onto the scree, but as I put weight on my foot, it slipped. Instinctively, I reached out for the top of the wall and grabbed hold of anything that might be a hand hold. My hand closed on a piece of rock jutting out, but which came off in my hand. Panicing, and starting to slide I stamped down my other foot into the scree, but this too shifted under my whole body weight. For a second, I was treading water 100s of metres above the valley floor sending a stream of stones and rocks cascading down below me. In desperation, I threw my self across the face of the wall to a rock I could see protruding out from under the gravel. I grabbed hold of it with both hands, as my feet slid out from under me.

The rock didn't move.

Shaking, I pulled my self up and found firm footing. Looking up at the crest of the saddle 10 metres above me, Ben's head appeared over the edge:

"Hurry up will ya?!"

Minutes later, I made it to the saddle, gave Ben what I hope was a look that said "I nearly died down there you unsympathetic arse", and then noticed the sheet of ice behind him.

Wearing shorts, a t-shirt and standing in heat of a Mediterranean summer, I threw a snowball!

Beyond the ice rose another peak, involving more (if less dramatic) scrambling. Sticking to my theory that the only way is up, we pressed on to conquer the mighty beast. Half an hour later, huffing and puffing, I arrived at the top ready to have my 'on top of the world' photo taken.... But then, I looked up. Above me was yet another peak. The massive hulk of Cinto somehow fit perfectly behind the rocks of the last two climbs filling me with false hope each time!

I felt very underdressed for the occasion in shorts, t-shirt and a bucket hat, I though I should have come in climbing gear and a hard hat!

Never the less, arriving at the top made all the sweat, aches and frights worth while. The air was crystal clear. To the north - Calvi, the North coast and just visible on the horizon; the French Alps. To the East; more sea and beyond - the Italian coast. To the west, Paglia Orba - the third highest peak on the island dominated the scene. (We'll be seeing that again in a couple of days.) And to the south, a never ending series of razor sharp mountain peaks. Daunting, knowing that was the direction we were heading!

A quick time check at the top reviled that the ascent has taken an hour longer than expected, so as wisps of cloud started to collect above us and head straight down onto us on the peak, we decided once rested to make the return trip back to the ski lodge.

Down hill on the scree proved MUCH easier, just keep you legs moving and let gravity take care of the rest.

Two steps forward, four steps forward!

We also came across a small lake just below the summit (see photo) this sheltered spot out of the wind was absolutely silent. No wind, no people, no birds, no insects. Just deafening silence! Very very hard choice for today's photo between this or the summit.... I guess you'll be seeing quite a lot of mountain views in the next few days, so the mirror it is!

The longer than expected climb meant that water supplies ran out quickly. 9 hours 30 later, we were still descending - knees beginning to file complaints of abuse, but now dehydration was also a factor in the intense heat. 30 minutes from the lodge, Tim noticed a wet patch above us on the hill side, and went to investigate. I'd assumed it was just someone getting caught short, but he came back with a bottle full of crystal clear cool mountain spring water. I refilled and drained my water bottles as much as I could before i thought I would burst- water has never tasted so good!

Sloshing happily, I finished the decent and headed straight for the rock pool Ben created yesterday - throwing my self in and disappearing under the ice cold water... Apparently it will stop muscle aching tomorrow... we shall see!

Other Sights and Sounds

Bit sun burnt today, and Joey keeps gasping and tutting at me every time she sees my neck.

Also had my 1st shave of the trip - bit worried about beardy tan lines (as modelled in fine fashion by Ben...)

Tim was heard muttering to himself in his tent:

"The bottom of my feet feel like they've been spanked by barbed wire"

I know exactly how he felt!