It is a passage of extraordinary scenic and historical charm, where geology, myth, and rural tradition intertwine in a single setting. The name “Tauro” seems to derive from the ancient pastures where herders once brought their bulls to graze on the fresh grass of the slopes, following a transhumant system that linked the gypsum highlands to the irrigated valley bottoms. The Portella area was in fact a key stop along the cattle track, guardian of ancient pastoral routes now barely visible among broom and brambles.
Walking along the remaining cobbled mule path between the limestone walls, one can still sense the echo of cowbells and the life of the shepherds who, at the end of the 19th century, stayed here for days, sustaining an economy based on flocks and herds. The white stone surfaces show clear signs of karst activity: circular grooves that tell of the slow fall of water into the depths, and clay vents where farmers from Serradifalco used to collect “red clay” to dye wool garments and terracotta jars.
During World War II, partisans found refuge in Portella’s natural cavities, turning small grottoes into makeshift shelters, the remains of niches and graffiti of which still escape the inattentive eye today.
At the center of the pass, a small paved area made of local stone once served as an informal market square: every Monday morning, during the “Fiera del Toro” (Bull Fair), farmers and shepherds gathered to trade fresh cheeses, olive oil, wheat straw, and livestock. The event, now recalled only in the stories of the elderly, formed a small economic microcosm that sustained the entire hinterland.
Today, Portella del Tauro is a beloved destination for hikers and mountain bikers. Marked trails wind along both sides, offering panoramic views of the Salso River valley and the distant outline of Mount Genuardo. In spring, wild orchids and anemones light up the ridge, while in autumn, strawberry trees and mastic shrubs turn red and gold, transforming the landscape into a vibrant palette of colors.