Walking (and Falling) in the Footsteps of Saint Francis

Note: Full photo dump is on our Facebook page – Trying on Italy

The weather in this region of Italy has been stellar. Sunny days mixed with enough rain showers to keep things green, temps running in the upper 60’s with chilly nights, and just the right amount of breeze to send the scent of spring flowers wafting through cobbled streets. 

One item on our to-do experience list was to hike at least a portion of the ancient trails that cross this area. The nearest is Trail #1 that runs across the mountain adjacent to Spoleto’s Ponte dei Torri up to Monteluco. For those with bigger plans, it’s possible to continue to Assisi. With rain forecast for Monday, we decided getting out there on this particular Sunday would be a good plan. 

These older-than-time trails traverse the mountains through out central Umbria connecting hamlets, villages, and towns. They served as routes for as long as civilization has inhabited Umbria, as well as functioning as pathways for St. Francis and his followers. Trail #1 begins just across the Ponte dei Torri and winds upward for over a thousand feet under primeval forests before reaching tiny Monteluco, which is also the location of St. Francis’ first monastery. 

The trail is classified as “medium difficulty” with a completion time of about 45 minutes. Uphill with a mixture of gentle paths that steadily grew steeper, it would qualify for medium exertion in my book — but a 45 minute hike? No way. First off, why rush through such incredible, magical beauty as this? I have hiked any number of places, several of which are noted in “the world’s top ten hikes” lists. This was comparable in overall magnificence. 

Winding through an array of impressively regal post-holm oak and other trees, these woods were considered sacred by the Romans. The Sacro Bosco, a protected grove dedicated to Jupiter that still stands at the top of the mountain, was considered holy by the Romans and cultures predating them. Cutting trees here as been banned for four millennia and still is. To jump ahead just a moment, it’s easy to see why this grove is considered sacred. Regal and majestic, these massive trees are breathtaking. Each seems to bend and twist purposefully, sculptures of time and elements; many are laced with intricate ivy woven around them like a macramé hug. To walk amongst them in silence is special.

A rich variety of vegetation shares the mountainside. Tiny wildflowers, all kinds of forest ground cover, and luscious ivy  decorate the already luxurious setting. The delicate forest violets were blooming – something that never fails to delight me about spring in Italy. 

Despite it being a beautiful day, we had very little company on the hike up other than the melodious chorus of birdsong that made me ponder how St. Francis must’ve heard the same joyful voices as he walked these very trails. 

The thoughts related to St. Francis were profound, too. We’d stop for a break here or there, or just to relish the views over the valley. Over and over I would look down at the rocky dirt path and think of the sandals of the ancients who walked here enjoying the cooling shade and sanctity of this special forest. 

A number of hermitages were built along these trails. Many were established in the early days of Christianity by Syrian monks who came here for solitude and established retreats. Today, the remaining structures have been renovated and are beautiful private homes with views to die for.

What is Monteluco comes into view around the bend of an ancient wall surrounding the monastery. A few seasonal hotels with restaurants, a beautiful open meadow perfect for picnics, and an Italian version of a food truck selling panini and other snacks make up the heart of Monteluco. There are a few homes, and perhaps even more that we didn’t see. We were hungry by this point, and a couple of panini went down perfectly. 

The Convent of Saint Francis is here – what an amazing thing to see. Originally the humble St. Catherine Chapel, it was bequeathed to St. Francis is 1218. He and his followers added a monastery, as well as another chapel. The monastery is still actively in use. Visitors are allowed to enter the original cells added by St. Francis, the chapel, and view the well where it is said he summoned a spring from the rock.

It was impressive to see, especially the monks’ cells. Tiny doors, perhaps no higher than 5 feet, led into small, humble rooms lit only by a small window. The mortar was held in place by thin wooden sticks, or perhaps they were reeds, still intact; the rooms seemed as if the inhabitant had only stepped out for a meal. stone bed and pillow upon which St. Francis slept is present in one of the cells. And again, we had the place to ourselves until the very end. This has happened so often, it seems. 

The afternoon was wearing on – time to descend. We decided to take the continuing path and traverse a “short cut” that would lead us to the trail going down to the basilica just outside of Spoleto. 

Trails are generally well-marked, but we knew the short cut would not be. No problem, said we. It was easy going at first as we walked past a few homes, then reentered the dense forest. Trail markers reassured we were on course…until we came to the approximate cut off. The juncture gave us not one, not two, but three options. Marty and his boy scout smarts chose the one that made the most topographical sense. There were some moments – “Shouldn’t we have intersected the main trail by now?” – before we started seeing brightly colored tape marking a mountain bike course; we had to be on track – and we were! 

The final trail opened up into less forested terrain. Beautiful wildflower meadows and open views were the reward, but steep downhill gravel-laden trails were the curse. 

Rule Number One: make sure your athletic shoes have great traction or you have on hiking boots. Rule Number Two: when you get a little older, just toss the ego and buy some hiking sticks. 

These lessons were learned the hard way after I took two slip-and-slide falls on the steepest part of the trail. The first wasn’t fun but only gifted me with a few scrapes. The second was a classic cartoon show moment when the character slips on a banana peel with no time to react. I went down hard on my left side making an instinctive attempt to brace myself with my left arm. The jar caused my straightened arm to push hard into the rotator cuff resulting in a tear.

A little rest and reset – nothing seems broken – and we continued down, entering more serene forest paths. After leaving Monteluco, we saw not one other person on foot. We did, however, encounter a few mountain bikers that nearly ran over us as it’s hard to see around the twists and turns in a shady forest. We felt a little like Indian Jones avoided a rolling boulder as we jumped off the trail and grabbed onto a tree to avoid a collision! 

By the time the trail concluded some five hours later and we had arrived at the Church of San Pietro, we were a bit worn but happily spent a little time admiring this lovely place. It’s an impressive and revered example of Romansque style from the 12^th and 13^th centuries, but unfortunately the interior experienced a “remodeling” in the 1600’s that somehow doesn’t align with the beautiful detail on the exterior. The walk back into town took about 20 minutes more but we were pretty heady with a “winning the battle” sensation despite tired feet and a banged up shoulder. It was decided we’d earned a nice aperitivo along the Rocca walkway with the magnificent overview…cheers to adventure, experience, and memory making! 

** By the next morning, it was apparent we needed professional input on what had happened to my shoulder. What a great chance to experience the Italian social medicine system…lol! Marty will tell the rest of this story in a separate blog. 