Some Peaks By The Lake Of Como
By W. A. Wright
The delightful recollection of an ascent of Monte San Primo during an Italian holiday among the art treasures of Florence, Milan and Sienna, with the reading of Freshfield’s Italian Alps, induced me to visit again this picturesque and lovely district of lake and mountain form, and so add to my store of Alpine memories.
My avowed object was to make the ascents of the Grigna and Legnone, with other small peaks. The choice of companions was finally settled by friends being unable, for private reasons, to accompany inc, and thus I was thrown upon the services of my Chamonix guide, Alfred Balmat, with whom I have spent several seasons in the High Alps. The circumstances of the War, the early period of the year, the middle of May, induced me to avoid the risk of having to engage inferior local guides, or worse than this, being thrown upon my own resources. Secondly, training and hut accommodation. For the smaller peaks perhaps no preparatory training was necessary, and my experience in the summer months in the Alps assured me that progressive climbing proves successful. As regards the overnight use of huts, I was only disappointed in this respect on the summit of the Grigna.
Arriving at Lugano on May 14th after some pleasant visits to the usual tourist resorts, Castagnola, Gandria, Caprino, I left the hotel in the early morning for the ascent of Monte San Salvatore, having made sure of the path by prospecting the day before. The path fully earned its reputation of being stony, and contrary to my anticipation bore round to the side of the mountain overlooking the Lake towards Monte Generoso. After inspecting the Pilgrimage Chapel on the summit, and taking light refreshment at a café a little lower down, I made my way along the path towards Carona, and selecting a resting place under some shrubs enjoyed a good lunch and a siesta.
A very charming walk brought me to the village of Carona with a quaint old church, and famous as the home of the Lombardi, the Venetian family of artists. A steep stony path took me down to Melide on the Lake, another of what I chose to call Vie Dolorose, or cobbled stony paths, which we had to use on each of the ascents. I took the boat from Melide to Lugano and enjoyed a beautiful view of Monte Bre reared up fan-shaped above the surrounding hills. The walk over San Salvatore was a delightful experience with this exception, – we were deprived by mists of the eagerly expected view of Monte Rosa and other Alpine peaks.
The following day I took the cable railway up Monte Bre, and walked down through the woods to Lugano. On entering the hotel I espied the sturdy form of Alfred Balmat of Chamonix in the lift. After a discussion of plans we left for Cadenabbia on Lake Como, and found comfortable quarters at Hotel Belle Ile. We started early in good weather conditions for the ascent of Monte Crocione. Across the greater portion of this peak an outcrop of rock obtrudes from South to North, nearly from the base to the summit, out of which has been made a paved path for a portion of the way above the meadows. There has been a constant strife between Nature and man’s efforts to maintain this, as shown in its rough condition, the path being strewn with stones and blocks fallen from the side of the mountain and uprooted from the coping of the outer side. By a plodding climber such difficulties however are easily overcome. After passing through a tunnel we made a traverse to the right and came immediately under the summit, which was reached by a steep grass slope running alongside a small stone wall. A large wooden cross crowns the summit (4,695 ft. above Lake Como).
From this point we had the best far distant view of the holiday, the sun shining through some silvery clouds which hung low above the distant peaks and snow fields. There being little possibility of seeing Monte Rosa, we abandoned any attempt to ascend Monte Galbiga, and calling at some chalets upon the crest of the ridge for milk, we slowly made our way down, resting on a pretty knoll under some shady trees, from which desirable place we had an exquisite view of Monte Legnone and the northern part of the Lake, over which a rainstorm had passed bringing out in sharp contrast to the blue sky the dark rocks and white snows of the upper portion of the mountain.
An Italian resident at Cadenabbia assured us that the Refuge on the summit of the Grigna would be open, consequently we made preparations for a night’s rest there with the advantage of an early morning panoramic view under ideal conditions. Leaving by the early boat (5.17 a.m.) for Varenna, we took train hence to Mandello, where after enquiries we found directions to two Refuges, with the heights specified, posted on the walls of one of the houses. A good path leads up an extensive and picturesque ravine which divides the two peaks of the Grigna Settentrionale and Grigna Meridionale. This path ultimately led on the left to a stony cobble path about three feet wide bringing us on to the Alp, where on a knoll in the distance we saw a two storied stone chalet, which we found to be the Refuge Elisa, and in the hands of workmen, who were completing its erection. The Refuge was strongly built and in the lower room there was an open fireplace with a log fire on which the men were cooking their polenta. They kindly gave us some boiling water, and after fortifying ourselves for the climb we descended a short distance, and were followed by the keeper of the hut who put us on the right track, thus saving us time and energy.
An increasingly steep path brought us to a couloir in the rocks which gave us climbing of a mild nature. On emerging above the rocks, if my memory serves me, a path diverges to the left and skirting round under the final steep cliffs of the Grigna Sett., was evidently a route to the Monza Refuge. We, however, proceeded up an increasingly steep slope or ridge, on each side of which were deep gullies filled with snow. We traversed these slopes of snow two or three times, and eventually reached the arête of the Grigna. While making this ascent it seemed doubtful at one time for which peak we were bound, as the ultimate summit of the Grigna was hidden out of sight, being supported from the south by three huge smooth rocks, broad at the base and tapering towards the summit. On the ascent towards the arête we had splendid views of the magnificent rocks and gendarmes of the Grigna Meridionale, which reminded me of the Dolomites in their character. We also observed a refuge painted red on the arête of the Meridionale, but its name we failed to obtain as we did not call at the Refuge Elisa on our return. On stepping over the arête we found a well defined path leading to the final summit of the Grigna Sett. (7,905), which we reached at 4.30 p.m. To our disappointment we found the Refuge securely closed, so our night’s rest had to be determined elsewhere.
The northern face of the mountain was different in character from the south, consisting of fairly steep slopes covered with snow. Just above the Hut was a pile of snow, which when tested by the ice axe seemed to give easily. Suspecting there might be a cornice, I retreated and inspecting it in profile was only too pleased I had gone no further, as disaster would certainly have ensued. Balmat descended some distance towards the Refuge Monza, and reported an ice slope, so being on a strange mountain and not fully equipped, we decided to return the way we came. As we believed the Refuge Elisa to be without mattresses and blankets, we proceeded with all speed to Mandello, arriving at 9.45 p.m. The cobbled path was responsible for delay, it being irksome and sore to the feet.
We had to secure an albergo and were directed by some boys to one situated in the higher part of the town, which to our annoyance caused us to retrace our steps upwards, the path enlivened by a phosphorescent display of glow worms and fireflies. On arriving at the albergo we found it closed, but after being looked over successively by an old signora, signoretta and child, and then sniffed at by a dog, we were granted a night’s rest with a plentiful supply of boiled milk and bread for supper and breakfast. Daylight revealed our whereabouts but we missed the first train, being further from the station than we anticipated. This gave us an opportunity of securing a second breakfast of coffee and biscuits near the station, and engaging a motor car, we rattled down to Varenna, where after a brief rest we were rowed back in brilliant sunshine to Cadenabbia, a delightful contrast to the arduous work of the previous day.
The ascent of the Grigna is only to be rivalled in interest and charming scenery by the Legnone (8,565 ft.), which proved less exacting, as the Refuge Reccoli on the saddle between the Legnone and Legnonicino proved an excellent half way house. Leaving Como in the middle of the morning we took boat to Dervio, where we reinforced ourselves for the long walk in front of us by a solid meal of excellently cooked veal cutlets at a somewhat unpretentious albergo. A steep winding road leads from Dervio to Introzzo, but there has been constructed a short cobbled path cutting across the road at two or three points, considerably reducing the distance. At Introzzo we secured the key of the Refuge Reccoli, and the services of the keeper, who proved to be an excellent cook. A very delightful walk through a gradually thinning forest of chestnut trees brought us in sight of the Refuge and the summit of the Legnone. We were accompanied by some companionable peasants who were going to the higher chalets, and were also met by the picturesque sight of a long file of peasants of both sexes leading their cattle down from the higher pastures. On the south flank of the Legnone could be observed the zigzag roads made by the Military and used during the Great War, which we thought somewhat disfigured the scene. The Refuge is well situated and adapted for a stay of two or three days and afforded us excellent, even luxurious, accommodation. At its height (4800 ft.) the air proved cool and refreshing after the heat of the Lake level.
A severe thunderstorm during the night made us close the shutters and somewhat anxious for the morrow, but on opening out in the early morning the heavy clouds were gradually lifting, revealing the snows on the north face of the Grigna. At 6 o’clock we started for the summit on a well defined track. At a distance a projecting shoulder suggested difficulties, but these disappeared on our approach. We crossed a deep bed of snow just below the summit, on which there was a large iron cross. A bitter cold wind prevented our staying any length of time. We were disappointed in not seeing Monte Rosa, Disgrazia and other peaks, but were compensated by the lovely contour and colour of the Lake and the sight of the villages lining its shores, and were interested in observing snow cornices typically Alpine, though miniature, on two lower peaks of the Legnone.
We returned at midday to the Refuge, where the keeper’s services as cook were fully appreciated. After resting and settling up for the expenses incurred, we retraced our steps in glorious sunshine, and as we had provided ourselves with scarpetti for the Via Dolorosa, made a rapid descent. The ascent of this peak is easy, and in clear weather must prove repaying to the lover of Alpine scenery.
Two days later I was one of a party of four on the small steamer for Lecco, when an elderly gentleman, who upon acquaintance proved to be Prof. C. E. Fay, of Boston, U.S.A., accompanied by his wife, intuitively asserted that I was a member of the Alpine Club, to which I could make no demur. After a pleasant conversation, he drew my attention to the literary association of this part of the Lake, reminding me it was the scene of the opening chapter of Manzoni’s The Betrothed. A peep at Brescia en route for Riva on Lake Garda enabled us to enjoy among other things, seeing some rare old volumes of books of the Gospels, the Koran, 14th century MS. of Dante, and a Venetian MS. of Petrarch, 1470, in the Municipal Biblioteca Querinana. The beauties of Lake Garda need not be described, being known to all travellers.
We were dissuaded from the ascent of Monte Baldo by the hotel keeper at Riva, who advised us to go by motor to Molveno and inspect the Brenta group. After a lovely motor run we found ourselves among the English visitors at the Hotel Molveno. The tables in the dining room were laden with a profusion of wild flowers gathered by enthusiasts, and the sight of these enticed us to spend the day on the alps and in the pastures, which amply repaid us.
Our plans were to climb the Cima di Tosa, and cross the Bocca di Brenta to Pinzolo, and as this would necessitate spending the night at the Refuge just below the pass, we enquired for a local guide, who proved a lively and amusing companion. Wearing three medals of different Alpine Clubs, he stipulated for fees according to the depth of snow he would have to tread down, boot depth so many lire per day; 50 per cent. more, knee deep; 100 per cent. more, waist deep. From motives of expediency, as well as economy, we fixed up at boot depth. A local wind, the Ora, with rain, arising on the day we had arranged to start, made us defer until the following day, but ill luck followed us, as within an hour from the hut a heavy thunder storm rolled up and our hopes of climbing the Cima di Tosa dwindled to zero. We had a little difficulty in opening out the Refuge, but with the exception of being rather stuffy, otherwise found excellent accommodation. This pass is evidently largely frequented in the summer months, as I noticed a well-built stone hotel some little distance above the hut.
It was raining in the morning, and heavy clouds hung low down over all the peaks, so we made for the pass, which is within easy striking distance, the snow being in good condition in spite of the adverse weather. There were no tracks whatever on the other side, but we had no difficulty with the local guide’s assistance in striking a distinct path which ascended at a considerable height under the cliffs. We traversed several steep slopes of snow of great depth, which at intervals covered the path, but after two hours of walking on it were cheered by sunshine and the clouds lifting, which revealed a scene of a romantic character.
In reply to our enquiries, the Italian guide rattled off the names of the various flame-like pinnacles at such a pace as prevented them being memorised. Readers who are interested in this simple narrative are advised to consult Freshfield’s Italian Alps, Chapter XI., “The Brenta Group.” Passing through delightful woodland and pastoral scenery, we halted at a saw mill for rest and refreshment, and arrived in comfort at Pinzolo, where we found comfortable quarters.
The next day, Sunday, was rendered interesting by a great gathering of the Fascisti in the church, to which we were invited by the hotel keeper, who was a member. The black shirts and badges were greatly in evidence and produced a somewhat sombre effect when massed together. It was a crowded service, the women occupying the rear half of the church, and the men the remaining part up to the altar rails. Responses were sung by a choir of male voices accompanied by a fairly good organ.
It proved wisdom on our part to have made the Pass without delay, as the following morning became ominously dark, and rain fell in torrents. Holidays having come to an end, I reluctantly parted with both guides and motored homewards to Riva. Steaming down the Lake the weather was magnificent and clear, and I had a superb glimpse of the beautiful mountains through which I had previously travelled.
During the railway journey between Como and Laveno, I had entrancing views of the far distant snow-clad peaks, which made me regret I could not have stayed longer and made ascents under such favourable weather conditions, but climbers, like the proverbial beggars, cannot be choosers. My plans included a short stay at Stresa on Lake Maggiore, but time only allowed me to visit the Isola Bella to see the art treasures of the Chateau, and the wonderful variety of trees in the beautiful gardens.
The funicular rail took me to the summit of the Monte Mottarone, famous for its view of the Monte Rosa group, the Valais mountains, but I was again deprived of this by prevailing mists. Readers of G. Meredith’s splendid novel, Vittori, will remember his vivid description in the opening chapter beginning: “From Monte Mottarone you survey the Lombard plain, etc.” The anticipation of rereading this novel and the view of the seven lakes compensated somewhat for the mists veiling the snow clad distant Alps.
Climbers who purpose visiting the Italian Lakes and making ascents in the early spring would be wise to take note that the Refuges are not opened out until the middle of June.
The ascents of the Grigna and the Legnone do not make any great demands on mountaineers of experience, but they are fully rewarded by the joys of exquisite colour and the varied scenery of peak and lake for which Italy is truly famous.