Some Beaks have long fur and beautiful horns and win competitions, others defy gravity for breakfast.
Ladies and gentlemen, here goes the weekly post on the usual rise of the southern Grigna.
Seriously, this opportunity couldn’t be more tempting, after a sweatyand long graduation session at the opposite side of Milan, we re-crossed the city with no steps for refined cocktails or hipsty downtown aperitif.
The destination was a bit fresher, vertical and majestic.
Arriving at the slopes of the climb we stripped off formal dresses and wore the most comfortable mountain dresses, put the backpack on and started treading the ground, heading to the UFO!
The climb, made even more tiring by the hour (trail is exposed to the sun since morning) ended with a chipped tooth.
Yeah, chipping a tooth by climbing a mountain is quite possible even without falling down, just pull up on a low head crack and poof, tooth powder in the mouth.
Fortunately my personal nurse had with it the best remedy for a terrible wound like this, a fantastic bottle of sparkling wine.
Yeah, it is true that we skipped the aperitifs, but we could not even skip the whole alcoholic celebration! The bottle opened autonomously right after removing the caging (perhaps 900m altitude difference helped, mind it for the next time).
Such panorama was worth not only the climbing and crossing of the meneghina on the highway, perhaps this was the moment when the graduation crowned.
Comfortable in the beautiful season, the crest was not desolate, but indeed, it has attracted two groups of trail-eaters who also had the fantastic idea of having an aperitif with a view.
And we could not miss, as with every respected party, a good dose of party crashers (or party animals, as in this case).
I do not want to bore you again on the beauty of these mountains, of such essential places where a metal shell is called home, where the broken wooden floor exudes dust. So I will leave the words, and the heart, to photography.
The awakening has been moved by a group of teenagers who went up to see the dawn and return to their oratories for servicing as aducators during the summer camps.
Even this is a facet of these mountains that many call mountains in the home. Because of their proximity, and for their constant recall that first breaks the line of the Padana plain over Milan, sleep frequently frequented by all kinds of misfit (like us) deciding to take a breath of fresh air before going to work or whatsoever .
However, they were not only teenagers moving the morning, a curious chamois chose to go to morning brunch on one of the spikey drive-thru.
Perhaps the neighbor’s grass is greener, but surely such a singular breakfast did not just wake our attention. (Look carefully, he’s small and dark)
Chamois are the true natives of these cathedrals, their guardians and their sacristies. They administer the functions by recalculating every single square centimeter where they can plant their hooves, silent and swift constantly watching over the most unattainable places as well as the paths that are most often bursted by men who can only imagine the views and places these animals can know.
On a closing thought, as we wander through these hostile and charming chatedrals of stones we are mere observers of the beauty lying beneath the sky-stabbing limestone spires.
What do we see up there that justifies the pain and discomforts of sleeping at climate mercy?
What is it that pulls us through these paths?
Sometimes, while staring at these starry nights, encountering the wildlife, or just in the process of sweating blood and tears ascending, it feels like the answer to these questions is on the tip of your tongue, but then it vanishes in the blink of an eye as you land the next step, and all that is left is the constant search for that answer again and again, trail to trail.