Solo, between the strange beauty of nature I'm going
path for me and every heart.
by many, for too long I was called for a return to the idea of \u200b\u200bPollinelle. But, either due to bad weather or because unexpected events, I had always put off.
What better day to make yet another solo, a special, which remains indelible in our hearts and forever be kept as a precious gift, the box of memories.
alone, for the third time, I am going to go this route difficult and daring. I do not hide the anxiety and concern, accentuated even more by my psycho-physical training not far from optimal and the fear of time announced. But certain emotions and moods, certain
hallucinations are experienced and receive when you are alone with themselves. In the pinewood, penetrating rays of the sun bathe the forest floor, then the oaks, thickening my way, making the atmosphere of a wild beauty and where can you get a flash light enhances the fast and precise movements of a spider repair His thin canvas.
odors, so intense and aromatic get inside of my flesh, the skin becomes pine bark. The scent of herbs disinfects and purifies wounds of life. The tears, lifeblood, slowly scratched my face. I am in touch with what I always try.
I have to rely only on myself, this is the charm of the lonely. Only, supported by its own forces, stripped of his weaknesses, only with my gestures, kidnapped by the beats of the heart, the arcane nature and wilderness that prevails in this piece of heaven.
scrutinizing gaze toward the wall of rock walls of Pollinelle. Salgo. The clouds, to Dolcedorme Serra, full of worries me a dark gray. I'm torn between renunciation and going forward. The sun warms me, as a vital element penetrates me, calms me, gives me confidence. I choose to continue. I know that in case bad weather back over the gravel would be difficult and dangerous. Continue along
clasts that collection of loose rocks and debris. Operation that requires patience and caution. A step and a tangle of rocks came tumbling down the steep slope. The strong smell of sulfur numbs my mind making my uncertain steps. Then a snake slips a few inches from my hand
I almost resting on a pile of rocks. The reptile remains motionless. I scared him imitate. Then easily resume the climb and went to get entangled in a large boulder. Better change the air, the uninvited guest I am. With more fear I continue to cross the gravel. It seems to never end.
Il passaggio per l’attacco della salita è più a sinistra. Continuo a spostarmi lungo i piedi della parete, poi… c’è solo da salire. Indugio.
“Ma è da qui che sono salito le altre volte?” Mi chiedo pre
occupato. Il sole sparisce, ingoiato dalle nubi. Non posso più tornare indietro. Devo solo salire. Penso al temporale. Spero che la montagna sia clemente e mi faccia passare. Se scoppiasse il temporale in questo canalone la montagna mi vomiterebbe addosso di tutto. Mi avvicino alla Grande Madre con umiltà e rispetto non cercando nessuna sfida. Solo uno sciocco potrebbe pensare il contrario: considerare la montagna un nemico da abbattere, l’esito sarebbe scontato. La mia è voglia di conoscenza e di scoperta, legata solo al fatto di riuscire a capire dové il mio limite e se possibile cercare di superarlo.
L’erba e viscida e insidiosa, questa non è la stagione adatta per venirsi a cacciare nei guai in posti come questo. Ho il fiato grosso. Sono preda di emozioni forti.
Penso a lei. Penso alla donna che amo. Stamattina prima di andare mi ha detto di stare attento, di non dargli dispiaceri. Ho messo sempre in conto tutto nelle mie solitarie, anche la morte. Poiché essa può sopraggiungere in qualsiasi modo e momento. Ma oggi sento qualcosa di diverso. Mai come oggi ho temuto così forte la morte. Una sensazione strana mi pervade, affronto questo momento con più cautela, con ancora più rispetto to my life and the people I love
.
"Gliding would be the end." "I may not die instantly, I break something." "Suffer the first to succumb." What thoughts do. This is "my" "Via degli Angeli. Why are only my personal experience, intimate, profound, no one can ever take away from the heart what I feel right now, hard to explain ... and who does not love everything, perhaps even more difficult to understand.
This is the place of the many tragedies: the Germans always crashed on the same side during World War II in 1941, Felix Raab precipitate da questi dirupi nel 1962 e infine Cristian Knabe deceduto nel giugno del 2005 durante la discesa dai precipizi del Pollinello, amico caro mai conosciuto.
Nel profondo dell’insenatura il cielo sopra di me si colora di un grigio scurissimo. “Fammi passare Madre, fammi passare”.
Ancora un po’, ma i crampi mettono a dura prova i muscoli delle mie gambe, poi il versante inizia a curvare verso la cima, l’ultimo sforzo e non ho più bisogno dell’aiuto delle mani. Mi dirigo verso la croce di Cristian, una preghiera, due, tre preghiere, con il cuore ricolmo di gioia scorro con la mente i volti che mi sono passati accanto in questi anni della vita, a chi non c’è più va il mio deepest thoughts.
I leave a note. Heaven does not bode well. Begins to drip. The forest Pollinelle rocks me, away, as nurtured by a mother's womb. Piles of dirty snow now melts in
rivulets of muddy water. They nourish the Heart of the Earth. The Great Mother is happy, it returns a carpet of flowers. The branches of the beech trees the buds begin to open. Life is in the air.
no more drips. A Colle Gaudolino I make friends with a fox. I headed to the cabin to greet Caramel "keeper", a chat eating something. Then when it's time to invite me to go down with him to dell'Impiso Hill where he left the car. I thank him for his generosity and friendship, but I must continue on my path. We are divided, each partner of his own solitude.
Morano I go down the ladder of happy, strong echo in my heart the words of Henry David Thoreau: "There can be no dark melancholy for those who live in the midst of serene nature and its meaning."
by many, for too long I was called for a return to the idea of \u200b\u200bPollinelle. But, either due to bad weather or because unexpected events, I had always put off. What better day to make yet another solo, a special, which remains indelible in our hearts and forever be kept as a precious gift, the box of memories.
alone, for the third time, I am going to go this route difficult and daring. I do not hide the anxiety and concern, accentuated even more by my psycho-physical training not far from optimal and the fear of time announced. But certain emotions and moods, certain
hallucinations are experienced and receive when you are alone with themselves. In the pinewood, penetrating rays of the sun bathe the forest floor, then the oaks, thickening my way, making the atmosphere of a wild beauty and where can you get a flash light enhances the fast and precise movements of a spider repair His thin canvas. odors, so intense and aromatic get inside of my flesh, the skin becomes pine bark. The scent of herbs disinfects and purifies wounds of life. The tears, lifeblood, slowly scratched my face. I am in touch with what I always try.
I have to rely only on myself, this is the charm of the lonely. Only, supported by its own forces, stripped of his weaknesses, only with my gestures, kidnapped by the beats of the heart, the arcane nature and wilderness that prevails in this piece of heaven.
scrutinizing gaze toward the wall of rock walls of Pollinelle. Salgo. The clouds, to Dolcedorme Serra, full of worries me a dark gray. I'm torn between renunciation and going forward. The sun warms me, as a vital element penetrates me, calms me, gives me confidence. I choose to continue. I know that in case bad weather back over the gravel would be difficult and dangerous. Continue along
clasts that collection of loose rocks and debris. Operation that requires patience and caution. A step and a tangle of rocks came tumbling down the steep slope. The strong smell of sulfur numbs my mind making my uncertain steps. Then a snake slips a few inches from my hand
I almost resting on a pile of rocks. The reptile remains motionless. I scared him imitate. Then easily resume the climb and went to get entangled in a large boulder. Better change the air, the uninvited guest I am. With more fear I continue to cross the gravel. It seems to never end. Il passaggio per l’attacco della salita è più a sinistra. Continuo a spostarmi lungo i piedi della parete, poi… c’è solo da salire. Indugio.
“Ma è da qui che sono salito le altre volte?” Mi chiedo pre
occupato. Il sole sparisce, ingoiato dalle nubi. Non posso più tornare indietro. Devo solo salire. Penso al temporale. Spero che la montagna sia clemente e mi faccia passare. Se scoppiasse il temporale in questo canalone la montagna mi vomiterebbe addosso di tutto. Mi avvicino alla Grande Madre con umiltà e rispetto non cercando nessuna sfida. Solo uno sciocco potrebbe pensare il contrario: considerare la montagna un nemico da abbattere, l’esito sarebbe scontato. La mia è voglia di conoscenza e di scoperta, legata solo al fatto di riuscire a capire dové il mio limite e se possibile cercare di superarlo. L’erba e viscida e insidiosa, questa non è la stagione adatta per venirsi a cacciare nei guai in posti come questo. Ho il fiato grosso. Sono preda di emozioni forti.
Penso a lei. Penso alla donna che amo. Stamattina prima di andare mi ha detto di stare attento, di non dargli dispiaceri. Ho messo sempre in conto tutto nelle mie solitarie, anche la morte. Poiché essa può sopraggiungere in qualsiasi modo e momento. Ma oggi sento qualcosa di diverso. Mai come oggi ho temuto così forte la morte. Una sensazione strana mi pervade, affronto questo momento con più cautela, con ancora più rispetto to my life and the people I love
. "Gliding would be the end." "I may not die instantly, I break something." "Suffer the first to succumb." What thoughts do. This is "my" "Via degli Angeli. Why are only my personal experience, intimate, profound, no one can ever take away from the heart what I feel right now, hard to explain ... and who does not love everything, perhaps even more difficult to understand.
This is the place of the many tragedies: the Germans always crashed on the same side during World War II in 1941, Felix Raab precipitate da questi dirupi nel 1962 e infine Cristian Knabe deceduto nel giugno del 2005 durante la discesa dai precipizi del Pollinello, amico caro mai conosciuto.
Nel profondo dell’insenatura il cielo sopra di me si colora di un grigio scurissimo. “Fammi passare Madre, fammi passare”.
Ancora un po’, ma i crampi mettono a dura prova i muscoli delle mie gambe, poi il versante inizia a curvare verso la cima, l’ultimo sforzo e non ho più bisogno dell’aiuto delle mani. Mi dirigo verso la croce di Cristian, una preghiera, due, tre preghiere, con il cuore ricolmo di gioia scorro con la mente i volti che mi sono passati accanto in questi anni della vita, a chi non c’è più va il mio deepest thoughts. I leave a note. Heaven does not bode well. Begins to drip. The forest Pollinelle rocks me, away, as nurtured by a mother's womb. Piles of dirty snow now melts in
rivulets of muddy water. They nourish the Heart of the Earth. The Great Mother is happy, it returns a carpet of flowers. The branches of the beech trees the buds begin to open. Life is in the air. no more drips. A Colle Gaudolino I make friends with a fox. I headed to the cabin to greet Caramel "keeper", a chat eating something. Then when it's time to invite me to go down with him to dell'Impiso Hill where he left the car. I thank him for his generosity and friendship, but I must continue on my path. We are divided, each partner of his own solitude.
Morano I go down the ladder of happy, strong echo in my heart the words of Henry David Thoreau: "There can be no dark melancholy for those who live in the midst of serene nature and its meaning."
heartiest greetings to the Chamber of CAI Castrovillari which celebrates 10 years of intense activity. A warm hug to all members. 
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