Claudio had asked me several times to go with him to see a tree he thought was spectacular. Claudio is a very talented nature guide, a tree enthusiast and a great traveller. I finally managed, with two friends, to join one of his three-hour guided tours of the Vajont Dam in Erto e Casso.
Claudio accompanied the group to visit the places that suffered immensely, telling us about the construction of the dam, which was an incredible feat at that time, but also about the greed of a few men who, disregarding the lives of many, went ahead with their project despite the fact that nature, in the form of a huge mountain, had warned them of the looming danger. It can almost be considered an example of what is now happening worldwide, which we do not want to understand. Two million tonnes of rock fell at a speed of 100 km per hour into a basin, stubbornly commissioned due to the enormous stupidity and greed of humans, and swept away 2,000 lives in a flash. The huge dam, instead, remained there to remind us of our mistakes, like the staggering pile of debris that fell, in a few seconds, into an artificial lake on that night of 9th October over 50 years ago.
Claudio tells us about the small church with a roof that recalls the path taken by the frightening wave, showing us the incredible belly of the huge dam and the few remains of the road that climbed up to Longarone. Then he accompanies us into the forest that has grown in fifty years on the enormous landslide. He stops in front of a sloping tree to tell us, "For years, I have been accompanying people to visit this forest explaining that all the trees you can see grew after that tragic night and therefore were no more than 50 years old. But then I slowly realised that some of these trees had struggled hard to survive the disaster, which had inevitably affected them too.
Many of the trees in the Monte Toc forest had been completely destroyed by the landslide, most of them buried, uprooted or torn apart. However, some of them, the luckiest, managed to "travel" on the landslide and ended up in a horizontal position or tilted on its surface, once the tragedy had come to an end. These few trees had tried to counteract the adverse conditions that had affected them, they had tried to grow new roots and new foliage. Many of them hadn’t managed to do so. But some of them... some, like the crooked tree in front of us, managed to survive, and the story of that frightening night is revealed in their leaning trunks.
This one, you can see here, was probably very young 55 years ago and grew almost 400 metres higher. But further ahead we will find other examples, one in particular, that recall that tragedy."
He continues walking. We all follow him in silence. I look at the forest, which has grown again on the landslide. Many trees are young, but some are crooked or have straightened at the tip over time. The species that have survived are mostly spruce and larch trees. And they are, perhaps, the ones that have gradually, together with other pioneer species (black pine, scots pine, Swiss mountain pine, willow, poplar, silver birch and some rare beech trees) created the new forest, an example of natural colonization of an environment completely altered by a catastrophic event. Not far ahead, Claudio stops and exclaims, "Here is the tribute to life, the living monument that overcame the tragedy." A huge spruce lies before us, entirely horizontal, with some old roots completely exposed. From its old horizontal trunk, among old dead branches covered with moss, seven new large branches radiate. Perfectly vertical and more than twenty metres high. "The tree that was uprooted that night from its initial point of anchorage fell, with some of its roots in the air but others still buried in the ground of the landslide. It struggled against dying, grew new branches from the old trunk, dried up its useless parts and proudly rose above the entire forest. It is a true monument to life!"
While listening to Claudio, I measure the circumference of the tree. With its 2.70 metres, it is a tireless struggle against destiny. A vital monument that recalls that dramatic night. A silent witness to that tragedy, which also disrupted its life and its natural growth. The largest straight trunk measures 1.20 cm. "How old would it have been at the time of the Vajont disaster?", one of the group asks me. I count the crotches of branches which, every year, the tree grows during its period of longitudinal growth, which are still clearly visible on its old trunk. "I think over thirty". A child I think, when we leave the spot, like the more than 400 children carried away by the water that night. We continue through the forest and come out almost at the highest point of the landslide. Ahead of us we can see the village of Casso, with its old school, devastated by the water, facing us and nestled on the slopes of Mount Salta. Some free climbers are climbing at the base of its renowned rock faces, where Mauro Corona also used to train. I watch them calmly moving over the sheer rock face. It’s a beautiful sunny day.
I look for, climb, measure and defend the oldest, largest, most majestic and mysterious trees around the world, but I love exploring our own woodlands and nature too.