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?