In the first part of my visit to Italy, the weather gods smiled and gave me lovely weather. On the fourth day they exacted payment and the rains began as my train turned north for Torino and Cervinia. I rolled into Chatillon an hour late and was welcomed by Alech from the
Hotel Les Neiges D'Antan. We drove up the winddy valley through beautiful mountain villages towards Cervinia as a light rain fell.
Friday was rainy and cool. The Matterhorn was hidden from view and clouds swirled around the hotel situated at 1900m above sea level. Ludovicco Bich, the hotel's son's owner and I poured over maps of the surrounding area and he highlighted trails that would quench my thirst for running and biking the area. I was jazzed! All my life I've wanted to visit the Matterhorn; I was finally here, but it remained hidden in a swirl of clouds and rain. No matter--I somehow knew I would get to see it during my three day weekend. For now, I drew solace from my first run which would aquaint me with the territory and allow me to take in the beauty of this incredible alpine region.
I set out in a steady downpour for my running tour. The steep walls of the valley were intimidating and beautiful at the same time. Snow dusted the mountains at the 3000m level and waterfalls seem to cascade off every steep angle. My goal was to take in the first biking route Ludovicco recommended and scope it out. The route took me briefly up the main road to a farm road that accessed several dairy barns and houses perched on the steep ravine sides.
I carried my running pack with water, warm clothes, food, and camera and ran at a steady pace up the very steep hills. I wore shorts, a raincoat and a hat. Two minutes in I was soaked wherever the coat failed to cover. Despite the slow pace, my heart rate was up due to a combination of excitement, altitude, and cold.
At the turn off, I began an even steeper ascent towards a herd of cows. Their bells clanged with every movement they made and they sounded like thousand wind chimes in a hurricane. I slowed to a walk as not to disturb them and snap a few photos. The attendant herdsman and his dogs watched me with curiousity. Past the herd, the road turned into rock and dirt but the pitch did not lessen.
I stopped several times in the ascent to snap pictures or take in vistas and images completely alien to my California home...stone roofs, long shed barns, brilliant wildflowers, and glimpses of rocky crests through the gray soggy clouds. My overall pace suffered but I was utterly content and happy.
The rain kept falling but my Marmot Precip jacket was keeping me dry. Even with the high level of heat and sweat I was generating it seemed to ventilate adequately for the run and I didn't feel over-heated. I was probably running a 10-11min mile pace given the incline of the road and desire to allow ample energy to go far without over committing.
I had brought along the trail map, folded for quick reference and protected by the rain by a zip lock bag, and was seeking out one of two trails that branched off the farm road. After a couple false turns, I found one of the trails which followed the contour of the hillside. The trail was faint and underused except by the local cows and now with the rain had become a grassy, cow-pie strewn drain. I decided to find the next trail instead. Another km up the road and 45 mintues into the run; I decided I needed to double back. While taking a runnning tour was absolutely a blast I knew I needed to save some energy for tomorrow's big mountain biking expedition. With some reluctance, I turned around, retracing my path and descended the hard won elevation back towards the inn.
