Tartufo Trail

This fall my local trail running group organised a trail race for the second time ever in the area around Calestano, Parma in the appennine mountains. This area is famous for the prized black truffles which grow in the woods and the race is usually held at the same time as a local truffle fair. Trail running, friends, eating truffles and maybe a few glasses of wine – what more could you ask for.
The mountains around Calestano are not high, reaching only just above 800m (about 2500 feet) but the woody trails leading up and down the hills are beautiful, especially in the fall as the trees turn from green to red and yellow.
There are two race possibilities with the same inscription. When you arrive at the 20km check point you can choose to continue on to complete 50km, or decide to shorten the day and head downwards for a comfortable 26k.
The week heading up to the race was wet, very wet, but Sunday dawned with blue skies and a temperature which was hovering only a few degrees above zero.

Here we are shortly before the start discussing various race strategy – bottles of water or camelback, poles or no poles. Andrea (green sweater and bandana) was one of the main organisers and is an ex-winner of the Neanderthal Trail (short version of the famous Cro-Magnon Trail). I would have cause to thank him later in the day as he offered me a glass of red wine on top of the highest point with the race more than half finished.
By the time of the start the temperature had risen significantly and we were able to run in shorts and T-shirts.

Here I am descending at about the 5km mark in the company of Katia (she was voted as one of the top ten female Italian trailers a couple of years ago). We did the whole race together last year but this year she left me high and dry, going on to win in the female category.
The day, as you can see from this photo, was cloudless but the rain of the week before had left many parts of the course looking more like streams than trails.

I heard a number of people complain about the conditions but most people just got on with it and enjoyed the dry parts.
I did a large part of the race by myself but I managed to hook up with another friend, Arnaldo, for about 15 km though he also left me as we arrived in the last five km at the start of a nasty little climb before the final descent.
I got lost in the last descent, even though I knew the course from the previous year, as I missed one of the signs. Luckily I realised my mistake fairly quickly and was able to retrace my steps losing only about ten minutes. In the end I arrived in 7h 40’ for the 50k course which was 20’ more than last year but as one of the last races of the season I was more than happy.

A great day in a beautiful place, great company and finished off with food and wine.

Ski Mountaineering in the Appennines

I have the good fortune to live close to the Appennine mountains. In little over an hour I can get from my house to a ski resort or mountain village and then depending on the season I just have to put on my touring skis, lace up my running shoes or mount my sturdy mountain bike and I can be off on another adventure. On Saturday morning I didn’t have much time since I knew my loving wife wouldn’t be very loving if I spent the whole day away. So I left the house early with my skiing gear and by 08.30 I was in the car-park of the local ski resort where we had held a night time race just one week ago. A quick change into a ski race suit, on with the boots and the climbing skins on the bottom of my skis. My i-pod blasting Pearl Jam into my ears and away I went up the piste. The weather was beautiful, sunny but cold. It had snowed for two days previously so the trees were coated with pristine white icing. Humming away, happy to be in my element I made my way up one of the side pistes without meeting a single skier. Only when I got near the top and in sight of the chair lift did I see anyone else, but this early in the morning there were really very few people. It’s a beautiful day as you can see.

As I reached the top I decided to make a change in my original plans of travesing along the ridge and instead to descend straight down under the chair lift. I asked a couple of guys coming off the lift what the decent looked like down there. They looked at me strange and said.” That’s off-piste.
“Duh, yeah that’s the idea dude”.
“Oh, well it looks like just one snowboard has been down there this morning”.
Great I’m thinking, all that fresh snow and just one snowboard before me. Thirty seconds later I’m carving my way through this white paradise. The snow is a bit heavier than I was expecting but with bit more effort I’m able to curve down the steep descent, avoiding the pilons and bombing a few small jumps. A number of people on the chairs going up look at me as if I’m mad. What do they know. I’m having fun. It finshes all too soon and I’m down at the chair entry. Back on with the skins and I’m soon going up again. Breathing hard, pushing my body upwards. I find myself smiling to myself – it just feels so good to be working hard on these white slopes. I’m soon back up on the ridgeline and I can’t resist taking this photo. You can see the ridgeline extend up to the antenna where I am now headed.

Ten minutes later I reach the antenna. Off with the skins, close the boots and down the forest path . I curve right on to the forest piste and just let my skis rip. A few minutes later I’ve reached the bottom. Back on with the skins, loosen the boots, change the music from Pearl Jam to Blink 182 and I’m ready for the steepness of this new climb. There’s another guy climbing up the piste on the other side but I pass him and quickly leave him behind. The climb is steep enough to warrant using the heel raisers but not so steep as to cause me any problems. Twenty minutes later I’m back at the top and even manage a little run for the last thirty meters.
Off with the skins and back down the same piste that I just climbed.
I’m running out of time so this time I start traversing back towards the parking area before climbing up again. This last climb is the steepest of all of them and I’m beginning to tire. Nevertheless I push myself hard and I’m soon back at the top. One last photo of this beautiful frosted tree and I race back down to the car.

A beautiful morning. One thousand meters of climbing, probably about 10km covered, but above all a great training session in an amazing place.