The Yosemite of Italy

Right now I'm sitting in the stunning Italian town of San Martino in the Val Masino Alps, occupying one of the few flattish locations in the dramatic valley we drove up to get here. The weather is the most pleasant its been in days, sitting in the low twenties and the sun shining brightly, heating up the plastic-enclosed area I'm sitting in.

We've been here a day and a half, having driven from the northern city of Merano in one push and arriving close to midnight. We woke up the next morning to drizzle beading and collecting on the tents, a consistent feature of much of the morning. I slipped outside, low hanging blankets of moist, patchy cloud shrouding the granite peaks. Within 15m of walking down Val di Mello's cobble-stoned access street a huge, gushing waterfall appears on the right, a six tiered disposal method for spring snow melt. 

Val di Mello  is sometimes referred to as a little Yosemite with its dramatically carved valley and towering granite faces. I could be content simply staring at the landscape for hours here. In any direction. Walking a little further down the road our first boulder problems appeared on the left, made obvious by the large white splodges of chalk. Over 400 boulders litter the valley floor, presumably deposited by the heavy glaciation this steep little valley would have received. 

We walked around, waiting for the rain to clear so we could go for a climb, taking the majesty of the place in. The sound of water was omniscient, rushing from the snowfields above. Despite a large annual tourist turn over locals still keep cattle in the valley. On the walk to check out the Il Mostro section we came across a herd of thirty plus goats and later on witnessed a local family giving their cows a nightly milking. That night I fell asleep to the sound of water being sieved through rocks in the raging creek, broken by the clanging of cow bells on the far side of the road. Locals have by no means been driven out by tourism. Its common to see locals from the village in the valley, out for a morning walk. After what has likely been a lifetime in the area they still appreciate and regularly visit the majestic landscape that surrounds them.

That afternoon we crossed the creek and headed for a boulder in the Proprieta Privata section; “private property”. It seems locals are happily content with climbers using their property as long as they respect the wilderness values of the area. We had no guide so simply strolled around, looking at boulders. I spotted a pyramid shaped block I'd seen in a photo, remembering it had a route in the 5 range on both aretes. This served as our warm up, before Dan spent time working out a 6b stand start.

I liked the look of a problem on a different block, also graded 6b. The moves were strenuous but this was aggravated by the harshness of the granite. It took me around 45mins to work out each move and string them together, quite a satisfying little climb once I finally sent it.

Earlier in the day I had called Francois, a climbing contact from a town on nearby Lake Como and he had suggested we head to the village where we could read the guide in one cafe and get free WiFi in another. The second cafe happened to be shut as its not peak season yet but the owner offered for us to use his undercover area and we've been back numerous times since.

The town felt practically deserted but the people we did meet were extremely hospitable, despite any language barriers. I conversed with two people in Spanish, hoping that the similarities between the two languages would be enough to get the general gist across. I had a good conversation with one older man as it turned out he had spent a little time in Iberia and knew how to express some common words in the language. He even made the distinctive “th” sound where the c's and z's should be that only exists in Castilian Spanish.

I poked my head out of the tent the next morning to be greeted by clear skies and the sun already being quite high in the sky despite it only being 7:30. I practically woke up, called out to Dan and walked 50m down the road, crash pad in hand, for a pre-breakfast climb. We both easily sent a 5c arete first try, a great little climb. Next we had a play on a 6c+ I had scouted the night before but it turned out to be a real struggle and we were unable to even get off the ground.

Its hard not to feel happy and relaxed in Val di Mello. You walk around on cattle-mowed lawns with the constant sound of water as a companion, huge granite peaks towering above you. The climbing is excellent, but even if it wasn't this place would have so much going for it.

This afternoon it did its best to disappoint, the mountains clouding, the temperature dropping and it bucketing down with rain. Still, its charm is always somewhat enticing. As I'm writing this I can feel the space becoming more drafty as the breeze picks up, cleaning the mountains of the tendrils of cloud embracing them.

I could create the perfect lifestyle here. Today, after our morning climb, we cooked breakfast and relaxed on the lawns amongst the boulders in Proprieta Privata sector, did a little more climbing then headed to town where I did some language learning and wrote the blog post that you are reading right now. The towns seem to be in complete harmony with their surroundings, steep and inticrate like the peaks towering over them and hewn from their rock.

A little later that afternoon we headed into Val Masino to do some shopping and were happy to find out prices were generally similar to big supermarkets despite being at a small shop high in the mountains. The owners spoke no English at all and I was delighted to be able to communicate with them and order entirely in Spanish which they seemed to be able to understand perfectly.

If the weather clears up tomorrow I'll probably have two climbing sessions, go for a hike, do a little writing and smash out an hour or so of language learning. I'm becoming more and more driven towards the latter since I've had more opportunities to speak and felt the rush and rewards; I never thought speech would come this naturally.

I don't know when we'll leave, possibly when the road into the valley shuts at the start of summer. The narrow, winding line it carves into the side of the valley can't take the heavy traffic of summer as two cars can't pass each other without stopping in most places. Summer is fast approaching, a mere three days away now, and with it will come the crowds as most of the amenities in these towns open for business.