Climbing Monte Piglione—this day could not have been better!

Davide and me on the northern
peak of Monte Piglione.

I had the privilege of hiking in the Alpi Apuane mountains Saturday with perhaps the second best guida turistica in Italy, Davide Seghieri (sorry, Davide, but the top tour guide is still your wife Elena). Of course, Davide is not actually a guide by profession, but he certainly chose an ideal destination and route, not to mention that he also ordered up perfect weather—clear and mild.

The rugged peak of Monte Croce, which is also visible from our terrazza. With a cameo appearance from a bird.

We drove together for about an hour northwest of Montecarlo, past the village of Pescaglia, before the road turned too rough to continue by car. We started hiking at an altitude of perhaps 600 meters (about 2,000 feet), and it took us about an hour and a half of steady hiking to reach the northern peak of Monte Piglione, which has an altitude of 1,233 meters (4,045 feet). We stayed at the top for a half hour while we ate a light lunch and marveled at the 360-degree view.

The weather-worn trailhead sign.

Because of the unusual clarity of the air, looking west we were able to see the Ligurian sea and the cities of Viareggio, Pisa, Livorno and La Spezia. We could also faintly see through a light haze the islands of Elba, Corsica and Capraia—and even all the way to the mountains above the Italian and French Rivieras.

The peninsulas and the small island in the background protrude beyond the bay of La Spezia. Monte Matanna is in the center.

Here we are on the ridge ready to climb to the northern peak.

Looking north, south and east, we saw dozens of other mountains, including the impressive gray cliffs of Monte Croce, Monte Matanna, Monte Prana and the interestingly named Foce del Pallone, which translates as “mouth of the balloon.” As Davide explained to me and I later looked up online, the ridge is named after a balloon that became famous in 1910 and 1911 when a wealthy family that owned a resort and restaurant on Monte Matanna found an unusual way to transport customers up the mountain. They used a large balloon attached to cables that could lift as many as six people at a time. The balloon lift, though expensive, quickly became famous and carried wealthy people, including the king of Belgium, up to the exclusive lodge. However, its success only lasted six months, because one cold and windy day in February of 1911, a violent storm destroyed the balloon and its hanger.

Here we're looking south to Monte Prana, with the Mediterranean Sea and Viareggio in the background.

Davide told me the names of many of the other surrounding mountains, and it seems he has climbed at least half of the major ones. Monte Piglione actually has two peaks about 1150 meters from each other, connected by a ridge. We ate lunch on the northern peak and then walked to the slightly lower southern peak. From there, we could see Montecarlo, so now I knew that Monte Pigliano is one of the mountains we can see from the terrazza in our home. I waved to Lucy and even called her on the phone, but it was only in our vivid imaginations that we could see each other from such a great distance.

In this view from our terrazza, Monte Piglione is just to the right of the tree trunk. Note that there are two peaks, joined by a ridge. Davide and I are waving to you from the southern peak, ha! On the far right is Monte Croce.

Ripe blackberries on the trail.

Davide makes a great hiking companion, as we seem to have similar personalities. I was pleased that I was mostly able to keep up with him, since he is 14 years younger and extremely fit. For my benefit, he chose a destination that was only moderately taxing, and it is one that I will definitely want to repeat. Who wants to join me next time? 

My first cinghiali siting in Tuscany!

Finally, finally, I saw a cinghiale—a wild boar—in Toscana! Actually three cinghiali at once, in a ditch near the Lago di Sibolla. We’ve been coming to Italy for months at a time since 2011, we live in a relatively rural area, and we like going hiking in the woods, so it’s surprising to me that previously we’ve never seen a single boar.

Not my photo, but a good representation of what I saw.

We’ve seen many places where cinghiali have disturbed the ground to dig up roots, and we think we heard some rustling in the bushes at the Padule di Fucecchio once (we ran away, so we’ll never know what it was). We’ve seen a fox (three times), wolves (once), and last year I saw a deer crossing the road coming up the hill to Montecarlo. Last week, after doing some bird-watching at Lake Sibolla (I watched at least 100 herons in simultaneous flight), I rode my bike on a nearby trail that ran along a mostly dry canal. With a squeal of alarm, up popped a big boar, followed by a sow and a cinghialino. They fled up the opposite bank, too quickly for me to get a photo, and disappeared into the bushes.

A typical hunters' blind.

The website Italy Segreta says that the wild boar population in Tuscany is estimated at 150,000, while their only wild predators, wolves, number around 530. The site goes on the say: “. . . wild boar populations have risen exponentially. To boost the boar-hunting industry, national park authorities introduced a stronger and more ‘prolific’ species of Northern European wild boar from the 1950s until 2010, when they realized population numbers had gotten out of hand. These sows can give birth to a dozen boarlets every six months, which grow to be strong and, often, dangerous; an adult boar can weigh up to 200kg and stand up to a meter tall. Boar cause over 2,000 car accidents a year and some direct injuries—although deaths from (the bullets of) hunters during the boar hunt are more common (than deaths from collisions).”

Tuscany has a love-hate relationship with cinghiali, as many restaurants offer pappardelle al ragu di cinghiali and other specialties made with the prized meat.

“When it comes to wild boar meat nutrition, domestic pork can’t even begin to compare,” says the website of the butcher shop Beck & Bulow of Sante Fe, New Mexico. “This meat is a great source of zinc and healthy monounsaturated fats. It also contains thiamine, riboflavin and niacin. These vitamins help our bodies to convert food into energy, boosting metabolism, nervous system and brain function. Wild boar is very lean and much lower in cholesterol and calories than pork, while containing higher levels of protein. Because they are wild animals, wild boar enjoy a robust nature and are far less prone to illness and disease than domesticated pigs. Our wild boar meat contains zero sodium, while farmed pork contains extremely high levels. For this reason, wild boar is a much healthier choice for heart health.”

The hunting season in Tuscany usually runs for four months, from October through January, though only for three days per week: Wednesday, Saturday and Sunday. Our home is near enough to a forested area that we can hear the popping of rifle shots in the morning hours. I’ve also walked through the woods during the off-season and witnessed several hunting blinds. Once, when hiking in the Valleriana area, Lucy and I found a large pile of bread scraps, obviously left by hunters hoping that the cinghiali would become accustomed to coming to that area for a good meal—and then become a good meal themselves when hunting season began.

A field of corn devasted by cinghiali in Toscana.

The main complaint that Italians have is that cinghiali wreak havoc on farmlands. A herd can quickly destroy many acres of corn, wheat and other grains. They also eat grapes and dig up roots in vineyards. The website Visit Tuscany writes that “a 50 kg boar needs around 4,000-4,500 calories per day . . . a boar may weigh from 50 to 180 kg and eats bulbs, tubers, roots, acorns, wheat, corn, eggs, birds, small rodents . . . almost everything.” I’ve seen television interviews with frustrated farmers who claim that cinghiali have destroyed as much as 50 percent of their crops. They also devastate natural fauna, which contributes to erosion and flood damage.

Here is a grassy field torn up by a herd of cinghiali.

While hunting is a popular sport in Tuscany and other regions, hunters can’t keep up with the burgeoning boar population. It seems that any effort to reduce the population results in the sows simply giving birth to greater numbers of cinghialini, so the numbers actually increase.

So with all the cinghiali out there, I doubt that the three I saw last week will be the last. Hopefully, Lucy will be with me next time, so she too can experience the thrill of discovery. And hopefully, the cinghiali will once again run in the opposite direction.