I’m finding that living amongst the mountains is a massive privilege, a bonus I had contemplated when the thought of the impending translocation filled me with anxiety. A huge beautiful something that’s hopefully going to take much of my focus. Maybe amongst is not the correct word to use, due to the fact that we live on the coast. Although we are surrounded by mountains on all the sides that we aren’t surrounded by the Mediterranean. Pick any of the roads that arrive here, and you will find that they traverse a route that will undulate, dip and rise through a landscape of mountains, coastal ravines and moorlands that are littered with old mine workings and interlaced with shepherds’ paths. There are three main roads that arrive here from other places and two of those end up pretty much in the same place. Two of them are also mountain passes, routes in the traditional sense, in that they take a long and winding route up to a peak and then drop into the valley below in a similar style. The other route is the route that follows the coast as much as is possible. It is still a mountainous road in its own particular way and rises and falls many times as it snakes its way through cliffs and over sections of moorland traversing exposed plateaus of stunning Coastal habitats.
The mountains that are close us in are the peaks on the western edge of the Monte Linas-Orrida-Marganai ranges which are bordered to the North by the mountains of Arcuentu and to the South, separated by the flood plain of the river Cixerri are the Sulcis mountains. Together they make up the mountains of the Sulcis-Iglesiente region which sits in the far South western corner of Sardinia, bordered by the Campidano Di Cagliari on the North East and the Monreale (Campidano Di Sanluri) on the North West.
The world suddenly goes dark and I inhale sharply before hearing myself groan out loud, I’m trying to understand why I’m making these noises and why it is that I am now at ground level and squirming about like a man who has awaken the wrong way up in a sleeping bag. My hand reaches for my right temple and I realise that my cap has moved somewhat towards the back of my head. It seems that I have hit my head, I’m unsure of how I’ve hit my head but I’m very sure that I have hit my head and quite badly too. My fingers creep towards the wound which sits below the fabric of my cap, it feels lumpy and wet and pulling my fingers from my cap reveals that the wound is bleeding. I wipe my dirty fingers in and around the wound one more time and groan as my mind catches up with my body.
I hadn’t seen it coming at all and the confusion over what it was that had coshed me was clouding my mind and judgement, the daft ideas of the possible reasons why I was rolling around in the soil with a lumpy wet wound on my forehead kept pinballing off the inside wall of my cranium. “Did someone just hit me?” What the Fuck was That!” “Thrown stone” “Falling Branch!” I would remain Clueless until the involuntary curses and squirming around against the trees and shrubs had finished and I could pick myself up dust myself off and investigate.
My first rational thought appeared, “You have smashed your head on something” I had and I’d smashed it quite hard, the force had been enough to cut my head through a decent layer of fabric.
I felt groggy and my head was sore although the bleeding had seemed to have stopped. I needed to see what it was that had taken me out and that was the strangest part of this episode, I had no idea. I had been gleefully descending this newly discovered path with a spring In my step and been reduced to a mess of a man rolling around amongst the leaves and stones. I was Totally Befuddled! As it turns out the fact that my hat had stopped my head from being cut open to a greater degree was balanced by the fact that it was my cap that had obscured the cut off tree branch that took me out.
Many routes of various different types entangle this mountain, there is a regional route which is part of a huge circular walk of the Sucis-Iglesiente-Guspinese that covers over 400km. The Cammino Minerario Di Santa Barbara has its primary stages starting out from provincial capital of Iglesias and looping out towards the west it follows the coast north towards and up the Costa Verde. I’ve been on most sections of the trail that are local to me, and it’s a useful starting point as an exploratory tool for other areas that I’m not so familiar with. People tend the routes and there are blue Cammino Minerario Di Santa Barbara badges to guide the way along the trail. There are many smaller routes around that are marked with towers of stones or ribbons tied to trees and these are the most interesting, it is on one such trail that I’ve just been bushwhacked. They are plentiful and spaghetti their way up and around the mountain landscape offering direct routes to a peak or alternative traverses that can take the sting out of the difficult terrain. Many of the lower levels of these routes are cut through shrub and woodland and can be difficult to navigate as you wind past older paths that nature is slowly taking back. These shaded tunnels are great fun to explore and I often wonder who it is that uses and maintains theses trails, leaving the stone towers and clever directional aids for others or possibly themselves. Is it the Hunters? They use these woods and mountains, Sardinia is famed for its large wild boar population and hunting the Cinghiale in Italian or Sirboni in Sardininan, is a cultural part of the rural life of the Island. Could it be the shepherds? The goats for sure are taken to the tops of the mountains, as I have come across them myself. The clanging bells around their necks transporting me to green Alpine meadows and the theme tune of Heidi, rather than the heat of the Mediterranean sun as it glares off the rocks. I’m sure I will find out in time, but for the moment I am enjoying exploring the trails, as one trip along last week’s discovery reveals a new route and another exploration for the coming week. The Cammino Minerario Di Santa Barbara follows different parts of the old mining routes which are the larger arteries within this local network. They cross the routes of the unknown creators and are more clearly defined, usually following a lesser gradient or using loopbacks to stop the route becoming so steep. These trails are usually quite easy to follow with the eye and the foot, and creep their way up the mountain by a less direct route. Decaying remnants of Sardinia’s mining past litter these trails and the rusting shells of small train trolleys and dilapidated buildings appear at unexpected elevations and in secluded valleys.
The mountain areas that I have so far explored differ greatly to what I am used to, the Stinging nettle and rain sodden bogs, well-marked trails and plastic bagged dog poo hanging from gates and stiles are replaced by a tougher terrain. Even the well-marked trails need a keen eye, as its easy to go off route and the relentless growth of the mountain fauna and flora can catch you out, this area has its fair share of old mining excavations and other deep cave type hazards which the local bushes do their best to obscure. All in all, it is expected that you return with scrapes and scratches, my boots proudly wearing the scars of the sharp shrubbery. The soles of my boots are also telling as the heat and sharpness of the rocks takes its toll on their rugged form. Exposed legs and arms will start to sting as sweat salts the red cuts and scratches that now decorate them. Projects and explorations become many as a trip any where yields more areas to bushwhack and hopefully not get bushwhacked!
I take the folding gardeners saw from my bag, my breathing is heavy and my hands are sweating, I have approached my wooden nemesis from another angle. This time I have climbed up to it, instead of descending at pace headfirst into its blunt edges. I smile as I enjoy the rest from the steep climb and the thought that the route is far more enjoyable this way round, I happily take a foot more off the offending branch and toss the excess into the shrub. I carry on up the shrub covered tunnel until I am on The Cammino Minerario Di Santa Barbara, a quick dash South West and a double back at a pile of stones brings me onto an old mining trail still covered by trees and shrubs I follow this hidden but well-constructed conduit as it switch backs higher up the peak, until it opens up and I can see out across the mountains and the coast picking out the distant forms of The Arcuentu Range. I sit and rest at the abandoned Corpo Forestale hut that sits atop the lower ridge of this mountain. I shall look deeper into the Corpo Forestale in another blog but for now they are basically the entity that is responsible for the protection and maintenance aspects of National Parks and Forests.
The hut used to be used as a fire lookout during the summer months as it looks out over the large woodland of Is Compinxeddus and Is Compinxius known locally as The Rimboschimento, an area of reforested land containing pine, juniper and shrub covered sand dunes that rise out the forest cover. Forest fires can be a very real and dangerous destructive force in the hot Sardinian summer months and strong hot south westerly winds known as Scirocco can feed the fires to devastate a huge area in very little time. The fire lookouts can give vital time to the emergency services if smoke or fire is spotted. This one is no longer used and I can only presume that the hut that now sits out on the cape near Capo Pecora has views over both the Rimboschimento and the pine forests and woodlands of Capo Pecora whilst also being a lot easier to access than the slightly spooky remnants that sit atop this mountain ridge.
The Sun starts to dip and I resist the urge to follow the true ridge path with its enticing stone towers that seem to beckon me as the setting sun picks them from the shadows. That can wait for next time I tell myself as I head down the mining trail and pick up the Caminno di Santa Barbara for a nice predictable descent towards the canyon of San Nicoló and the asphalt road that leads from the Sea and up to the Dune, a huge sand dune that sits at the top of the valley giving a strange other worldly feel to this part of the mountains. Bats fly random swooping circles over my head and my feet adjust to the road below as it slopes towards the sea and my days exploring comes to an end.
You paint a wonderful picture with your words that bring the photo’s to life. (mind your head next time!)
cheers Andy
Looks like some wonderful trails up there, nice story telling!