Galaverna on pine loricati - photo by Indio; below: 1. small fir trees along the banks of the final section of F. Iannace 2. Iannace snow plan: to note the gleam of the grains in the sun, 3. loricato monument on the ridge north of St. Ciavole of 4. view from the top of the ridge 5. overview 6. the author (timer)
Night Fosso Iannace, ridge north of the Serra Ciavole
End of the year: The last week of December has given us three days of good weather. Forecasts put the sun to 30. With a friend had planned a trip to the summit of Monte Pollino for that day, but the friend hath been withdrawn at the last minute.
however I did not want to lose the opportunity to hike in the snow with good weather, so I decided on a solo, but by changing the destination. The goal was to reach the top of the Serra Ciavole the north ridge, but with tight deadlines that I had available I was able to get only the top of the ridge north. The excursions with snow are no joke and require twice as much time and effort of a normal summer excursion. I brought with me all the necessary equipment to deal with snow and ice, gaiters, crampons with heel crampons, snowshoes. Although very challenging, winter walks will provide an experience unique: the scenarios offered by the Pollino winter are really impressive. Fatigue is so richly rewarded. I left two hours before dawn and go up the path Fosso Iannace in complete darkness. The icing of the river shining in the light of my headlamp.
To boot I put the heel crampons, economic and useful to avoid slipping. One of the bridges of the river is submerged in ice. The air is cold and feels in your lungs. The firs Fosso Iannace seem only of shadows and silhouetted against the sky just lit by the moon, aligned the center of the throat. As you proceed on the path to clear the forest begins slowly with the rising of the sun. Reach the last bridge and light the lamp no longer needed. I plan to start Iannace. Encounter along the path of footprints. Sebbenes not distinguish perfectly into the powdery snow, looking good seem right features prints of the wolf. A Plan Iannace observe the summit of Mount Pollino, enveloped by the first rays of the sun. The sun rises suddenly from Serra di Crispo has seen an extraordinary spectacle: The grains of ice gleam of light and it appears that the plateau is dotted with diamonds. Here I'm wearing snowshoes because the snow is high and dry. I have some desire and I do the supply source is located below the road, just entered the woods. The water is cold and I have to drink in small sips. The best thing to do with it once so hard to bring a thermos full of nice hot tea, so you avoid the risk of colds and bronchitis.
Even my car is suffering from the cold. Note that the shutter is slow and the computer gives an error signal. Then I put the machine to the closing in my neck fleece jacket to keep her warm: classic picture below freezing system. Proceed in the steep slope leading to the floor of Toscano. The beech trees near the Serra Crispo are still covered with snow. Toscano plan is set in a magical, as always when the landscape is shaped by high mountain snow. The silence seems to dominate the vast wilderness of the Plans of pollen and besides me there seems to be no other. At the Great Gate Galaverna loricati still stands on the pines and the wind off the ice chunks that fall to the ground. I take off my jacket, because in addition to be no breeze, the sun is high and begins to heat the air, so I went toward the north ridge of the Serra Ciavole. I take off my snowshoes, because the ground becomes more rocky and replace the heel crampons (which will prove very useful, despite their cost) genuine crampons are now useless, because the snow is so dry as to prevent the formation of glass. 
I expect a nice and easy climbing on the ridge north, populated by typical specimens of pine loricato, clinging to the rock. As I climb, a raven, perhaps intrigued by my presence, hovers above me croaking. Yeah, I'm really alone, but the discomfort disappears before the spectacle of the snowy peaks. I would stay here until the sunset and maybe even for the next few days if I could. Arriving at the top of the ridge and stand behind a rock for the "lunch": dried figs, cake and water, standing, as always. It 's almost one and even if I wish, I can not go to the top because I did not remain many hours of daylight. So I decide to go down to the floors, somewhere between monumental loricati of the north-west. I put my shoe and boot quiet on the way back. Serra di Crispo see on the figure far of a hiker, the only human being met in this day of solitude ...
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