“The elevation of the lakes is only 500 meters,†I said. “It shouldn’t be snowy anymore,†I said. And yet…
This is what Chris looked like for most of my run: a bright green blur far up the trail.
And yet I underestimated the power of a good forest in shading the snow and preventing melting—and it was largely a deciduous forest, scattered through with just a few pines and firs. It snowed a full 10 days ago, after all; and it’s been pretty sunny since then. But yesterday’s adventure run turned out to be a different run than the one we’d originally planned. And, really, that was fine, because my husband would never complain about any run in the woods—or any morning spent together.
Castagna!
Populus tremula. European aspen.
Once the kids were off to school, we hopped on the next train headed south. We got off just a couple of stops later, in Bronzolo/Branzoll, where Chris found—on his amazing, free Südtirol2Go app—that in just a single minute, we could board a bus directly to the trailhead. Just let that sink in for a minute: we walked to the train station, got on a train, then took a public bus directly to our trailhead, which headed up some stairs alongside someone’s immaculately-kept house before diving into the woods. And that whole trip cost us just a few cents (really a few cents—like a quarter).
As our time in Bolzano hits its downhill slide (we’ve been in this apartment for five months, and we’ll be out in another four), I’ve begun thinking of the things I’ll really miss about being here. Taking public transportation (trains, buses, and funivias) directly to trails tops my list. Trails here nearly always connect directly to a train or bus line; the trails are so plentiful that, even in a decade of trail running directly out of Bolzano, I could probably not run all of the trails. Plenty of trails radiate from the funivias, too; who doesn’t want to take a gondola to their Sunday afternoon hike?
I’m pretty sure we stumbled upon an old graveyard? Maybe?
Ahhhh.
Gorgeous new trail signs.
But, anyway, back to the icy, snowy adventure run: The first, quick 250-meter climb, through an east-facing oak forest, was melted out. I slipped and slid on dry oak leaves covering the steep trail. Chris left me in the dust.
And then we hit the snow. As soon as we topped out on the ridge, snow glowed blue on the forest floor, cooling the air and slowing our steps. Each warm day, the snow had melted, then it refroze into a slick crust at night. We were left with a slippery trail, perfect for knocking middle-agers on our butts. Forging through the snow on the trailside was safer, though it meant breaking through a crust, dampening our feet and irritating our shins.
It slowed us down, but that was probably a good thing, because the day was truly glorious. The Montiggler See/Laghi di Monticoli are these little gems tucked into the forest, ice-covered now but undoubtedly swimming magnets in the summer. Birds were everywhere, warming up in the balmy breezes. The sun was out, the sky was blue, and no one was on the trails but us. We found brand-new trail signs, jury-rigged bike jumps, and even an impeccably-maintained 12-seat church (it is Italy, after all), once we’d entered the village of Colterenzio/Schreckbichl, which is currently blanketed with a patchwork of wintry wineries. If this run were snow-free, it’d be fast and easy, with the added bonus of a dip in a lake!
And then, I came around the corner to this. This castle, Schloss Sigmundskron, has an interesting history. Currently, it is the centerpiece of the mountaineer Reinhold Messner’s Mountain Museums. It was built before 1000 A.D. and then owned by a variety of princes and earls through the centuries. In 1957, it was the location of the Südtirol’s largest-ever political demonstration, of 30,000 people, demanding independence (from Italy) for the Südtirol. The Südtirol is now considered an “autonomous area” of Italy, which means that it has greater self-government and pays a smaller portion of its taxes to Rome than other Italian provinces.
And then it was over. We passed over the Ponte Adige and ran directly into the train station. Almost 8 miles. We sunbathed in February on a glorious wooden bench while waiting ten minutes for the next train.
I will miss this. Mornings running through the woods with Chris, the next train just ten minutes away. Always an adventure.