Cappo El Ceppo
IAN and I crossed over the stream and undressed on the rocks on the other side. It is a comforting thing to stand up naked in the sunshine and know that except for a forester and a few woodmen down the valley there is no soul within many miles. For an hour we played to and fro, working slowly down stream; paddling in pools but not staying in them long because the water was very cold. It was April and the snows were melting. Although the sun was hot, the stream comes down nearly all the way deep among rocks and under trees and the sun gets very little chance to warm it. We built a few dams and broke them again, but did not do much of that either because the stream was too fast; a dam had to be made of big stones to stand against it and became a constructive work of engineering and not the dilettante artistry of lazy playing. A couple of hundred yards down stream we found a big boulder which we climbed by several routes up and down, balancing with a delicate and refined poise which would - have delighted the heart of Agag and clearly proved the futility of boots.
We came back upstream again and lay down on a flat rock near to where we had undressed. I began to draw Ian as he sat reading a book, but he had got into a very unkind position with the sun slanting across his back so that every little ripple of muscle threw a shadow. I soon found it too difficult and gave it up.
At the top of the valley the Pointa Gialba was standing up, a patchwork pyramid of black and dazzling white in the sunshine, exactly framed between the tree-covered slopes below. It stands on the main ridge which runs the whole length of the island. Next day we were going to try La Mufrella, which lies away to the south, and come back along the ridge. We were not likely to have time to get up Gialba, but we might be able to. Probably the col to the south of him would be as far as we should get before coming down.
A little green lizard ran out on the rock to inspect such a large intruder. Twice he ran past below me and then came cautiously nearer while I sat very still. He came within an inch of my big toe but there were no flies on me and he soon went away.
Then I began going over in my mind the climb of the day before, We had tried to get up a big aiguille on the North ridge of the Capo el Ceppo. He has never been climbed yet and we failed to get anywhere near the top. It had been a grand day, but I had been a little frightened two or three times. The first, just after we roped, was a traverse across and up steep slabs. The ledge was adequate but it was very exposed, and though we strung the rope out to its fullest extent, just for a few feet we were all five moving together. Then, higher up, we had gone up a very steep groove from which the only chance of escape was by grasping round the waist a young and active holly bush far away on the left. I was second and without shame I steadied myself on the rope. In the end we had reached the crest of the ridge, and it was no small feat of our leaders to have got us there. We tried to get up the ridge towards the aiguille but we soon turned back in a strong unpleasant wind. We were to see two days later that even above that gendarme only a very patient centipede could have got along the ridge. The mountain kept back its ace until the very last trick on the way down. The whole hillside faded away to a little ledge on a great vertical wall, and the only way off was by an inverted stomach traverse. I had moved to last on the rope. It turned out to be reasonably easy, but Ian, who was next to me, and I had the worst of it, waiting while the others disappeared one by one round the corner, for we could not see what the pitch was like. But I had the vast satisfaction of tying on to a rope, and kicking off into space, a bundle of five sacks and five axes and watching them go plunk against the rock.
We were brought back to the present by the voice of our leader calling us in to lunch, and we reluctantly put on an adequate number of clothes and shoes, for the path to the cave where we were living passed beside a holly tree. The cook tried condensed milk in the buttered eggs; an interesting experiment.
As soon as lunch was over we went back to the stream and undressed again. About three o’clock, after the prescribed time for digestion and a little more, I felt moved to bathe. There was a deep, smooth pool just below and the water was not as cold as it might have been. I really enjoyed it and I do not often enjoy cold water on the body. With a splutter I climbed on to a rock and danced a step-dance, my only quick movements the whole of that day. Then I took a book and went a little way downstream to a sunny rock under the bank, where my toes could trail in the water and the splash from a little fall wetted me gently as high as the knees.
A car came up from the town with our half-weekly relief of bread and butter and eggs, turned with difficulty just below our camp where the track stopped, and went away again. One of the party appeared with a bowl of potatoes and a knife, and went away later commended by all with every one of them peeled. And I went on reading and dreaming and reading a little more till the sun was near to leaving the water and it was time to paddle upstream to my clothes.