Early wake-up call and climb up to Alpe Cortenero, 2036 goddamn meters above the sea level. Refreshing picnic with breathtaking views and a ceremonial smoke at the Sanctuary of Santa Canapa and a Skunk Sheriff baptism. Tasty dinner with salame, prosciutto e formaggio, followed by an evening around a bonfire. Some beers and two liters of discount red wine. The day wraps up with an overnight stay in a godforsaken shack.

Location: Anzasca Valley - Alpe Cortenero (2036 mts)

Participants:

• Narakura (+1000 SP 💎)
• Skunkisky Z. (+1000 SP 💎)
• H. Sballo (+1000 SP 💎)

Legs and lungs

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Santa Canapa marks the end of August, a symbolic farewell to summer and, for many of us, the start of a new year. It’s a bittersweet moment - our holidays are behind us, and tomorrow we’ll wake up a day older. Not that yesterday was any different, of course, but these thoughts don’t cross your mind in August. They tend to do it in September.

September is when the thinking begins again. Time delivers the thoughts you postponed in July. Those reflections on unfulfilling jobs, unsatisfied wanderlust, fading relationships, rent payments, and inevitable beer bellies.

And amidst all of that, we pause and remember. We remember that we’re still relatively young. That we have legs and lungs – and if they allow us to walk horizontally, why not trying to walk vertically? That’s what Santa Canapa is all about: walking vertically. You can call it climbing, if it helps you making some sense of it. We climb. We climb a mountain to remind ourselves that we still have the strength to climb things. No matter how tall.

The beginning

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We started the trek from a small town called Mondelli in the Anzasca Valley. After parking the car, we filled our water bottles and got ready to go. Mondelli is a popular starting point for people heading up the mountain, with various trails to choose from. As we prepared to set off, we couldn’t help but notice people giving us weird looks. It made sense. We had way too much stuff. For instance, even though we knew there was probably a gas stove at our destination, we still decided to bring our mini camping stove. And then there was the food: rice, tuna cans, a lot of fruit, salami, cheese, prosciutto, protein bars, bread, you name it. And of course two liters of discount red wine, plus a few beers, because we know ourselves. Add to that some clothes, a blanket, and a sleeping bag, and you can imagine the load we were carrying. Next time, we’ll probably bring half as much, though I’d never sacrifice the wine. There isn’t much else to do once you’re up there. People also gave us funny looks because H. Sballo (aka Nepa) didn’t even have a proper hiking backpack. He carried a regular backpack, plus two extra handbags stuffed with his sleeping bag, blanket, and some food. We must have looked like a group of clueless city boys—the kind who set out on a hike and whose corpses are never to be found. And with that, we started walking.

The climb

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There isn’t much to say about the climb itself, except that we nearly died of exhaustion. We used an altimeter to check how many meters we’d climbed every ten minutes. It was about 90 meters. And every ten minutes, we took a break of fifteen.

After a few breaks, we weren’t exactly chatty anymore. I clearly remember us all agreeing that this would have been impossible with some other members of our friend group.

Alpe Colla

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After about three hours of vertical walking, we finally reached Alpe Colla. A few rustic stone buildings scattered on a carpet of soft mountain grass. The sun was beating down on us. There was a water source where we filled our bottles and a long wooden table nearby. We sat there enjoying the break, and made some panini with cheese and prosciutto.

After refueling, we left Alpe Colla and continued walking for another 45 minutes. Thankfully, this stretch wasn’t as steep.

The Sanctuary

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At last, we reached Alpe Cortenero and the Sanctuary of Santa Canapa. What a view!

And it was (almost) completely deserted. Just as we were settling in, an old man arrived a few minutes after us. His arm was bleeding for some reason, so we handed him some disinfectant and bandages before sending him on his way. He mentioned a nearby lake (???), but we were far too exhausted to consider detouring. The guy seemed reasonable though. He walked away after few minutes.

Alpe Cortenero consists of five or six small, rustic houses. The main house is the best equipped, with a small stock of food, a camping stove, a few beds, blankets, and a wooden stove for heat. It even has solar panels, so there’s enough power to light the place and charge phones. Inside the main house, you’ll find the Master Key or as its note called it, the Chiave Universale. Such key opens all the doors to the other houses. The other houses are empty, a bit more chaotic and dusty, and many of the roofs have holes in them. Still, an impressive little settlement considering how remote.

As tradition dictates, we enjoyed a smoke in front of the Sanctuary. It felt earned after the climb. Some of us had also brought along shrooms, but they didn’t have much of an effect, probably because the physical effort that had already wrung every last bit of energy from our bodies.

The only issue with the Alpe is that there’s no drinkable water. We drank from a close creek, about ten minutes away. It wasn’t great, but honestly, it wasn’t terrible either. Having to walk for every glass made drinking feel like more of an accomplishment. It was there, at Alpe Cortenero creek, that H. Sballo was officially baptized and became a registered Skunk Sheriff.

Dinner and bonfire

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As night fell, we threw together some appetizers (bread, cheese, and salami) and cracked open a few beer cans. After that, we cooked an absurd amount of rice with tuna and olives. It was way too much, so we left the leftovers for the next day. Some people had to run to the bathroom the next morning (the bathroom being any space behind any rock). There was something magical about being there at night, knowing no one was around to complain about the noise or anything else. We could do whatever we wanted. So, we drank, smoked, and chatted late into the evening. At some point, we (safely) started a bonfire using dried wood we’d gathered from around the area.

The godforsaken shack

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The fire kept us warm for a while, but tired from the trek, we headed to bed relatively early. Sballo and Skunkisky slept both in the main house.

I (Narakura) decided to spend the night alone in one of the other houses. It was pretty scary. I remember Sballo and Skunkisky jokingly betting that I’d be back within minutes, too spooked to stay on my own. But I didn’t give up. I remained all night in that godforsaken shack. I remember that in front of my mattress there was a dark, gaping entrance. I couldn’t shake the feeling that the devil himself might be staring at me from the shadows as I tried to sleep. It was tough, but in the end, exhaustion and wine teamed up and I fell asleep.

Other stuff

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In the end, I wanted to post these things I came across around the time we decided to climb. Hopefully in the future, they will remind me of the experience. First is the album “Goats” from Coconut Records. The whole thing, really. Second is a poem from Mary Oliver titled Wild Geese :