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GOING TO SEE THE NYMPHS: LANDSCAPE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE AT THE ZAR TRYPA CAVE (MOUNT OSSA, THESSALY)

Published online by Cambridge University Press:  08 June 2023

Anna Magdalena Blomley*
Affiliation:
University of Oxford
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Abstract

This paper focuses on the little-known but important cave-sanctuary of Zar Trypa on Mount Ossa (modern Kissavos) in north-eastern Thessaly. In 1910, research conducted at the site uncovered remains of votives from the Classical, Hellenistic and Roman periods, including a group of eight inscriptions dedicated to the Nymphs. Despite this remarkable epigraphic assemblage, the site was not investigated beyond a single excavation season and today is largely unknown. Consequently, the Zar Trypa cave and its finds have never featured prominently in the discussion of Thessalian religion or of Greek ‘natural’ sanctuaries. Combining archival studies, on-site observations and GIS-based methods of landscape archaeology, this paper sets out to re-assess the surviving archaeological evidence from the Zar Trypa cave, to examine the spatial setting of ritual activity at the site, and to place the cave in the context of Mount Ossa's natural environment and ancient settlement pattern. Drawing on the methodological framework of ‘lived religion’, this assessment not only contributes towards our understanding of ancient religious experiences at the Zar Trypa cave, but also addresses broader questions such as the significance and meaning of ‘sacred travel’ in pre-Christian antiquity.

Η παρούσα εργασία επικεντρώνεται στο ελάχιστα γνωστό αλλά σημαντικό σπήλαιο-ιερό Ζαρ Τρύπα στο όρος Όσσα (σημερινός Κίσσαβος) στη βορειοανατολική Θεσσαλία. Το 1910, η έρευνα που διεξήχθη στο χώρο αποκάλυψε κατάλοιπα αναθημάτων από την κλασική, ελληνιστική και ρωμαϊκή περίοδο, συμπεριλαμβανομένης μιας ομάδας οκτώ επιγραφών αφιερωμένων στις Νύμφες. Παρά αυτό το αξιοσημείωτο επιγραφικό σύνολο, η θέση δεν ερευνήθηκε πέραν της μίας ανασκαφικής περιόδου, και σήμερα είναι σε μεγάλο βαθμό άγνωστος. Κατά συνέπεια, το σπήλαιο Ζαρ Τρύπα και τα ευρήματά του δεν έχουν ποτέ αναδειχθεί στη συζήτηση για τη θεσσαλική θρησκεία ή για τα ελληνικά ιερά σε φυσικό περιβάλλον (nature sanctuaries). Συνδυάζοντας αρχειακές μελέτες, επιτόπιες παρατηρήσεις και μεθόδους αρχαιολογίας του τοπίου με βάση τα GIS, η παρούσα εργασία έχει ως στόχο να επανεκτιμήσει τα σωζόμενα αρχαιολογικά δεδομένα από το σπήλαιο Ζαρ Τρύπα, να εξετάσει το χώρο τέλεσης της τελετουργικής δραστηριότητας και να τοποθετήσει το σπήλαιο στο πλαίσιο του φυσικού περιβάλλοντος του όρους Όσσα και του αρχαίου οικιστικού μοντέλου. Βασιζόμενη στο μεθοδολογικό πλαίσιο της “βιωματικής θρησκείας” (lived religion), η αξιολόγηση αυτή όχι μόνο συμβάλλει στην κατανόηση των αρχαίων θρησκευτικών εμπειριών στο σπήλαιο Ζαρ Τρύπα, αλλά εξετάζει και ευρύτερα ζητήματα όπως η σημασία και το νόημα των “ιερών ταξιδιών” στην προχριστιανική αρχαιότητα.

Μετάφραση: Μαρία Σταματοπούλου

Type
Articles
Copyright
Copyright © The Author(s), 2023. Published by Cambridge University Press on behalf of The Council, British School at Athens

INTRODUCTION: STUDYING THESSALIAN RELIGION

In the third or second century BC, a certain Mikra, daughter of Damosthenes, dedicated a marble stele to the Nymphs (McDevitt 647). At first glance, this monument – now in the Archaeological Museum of Larisa – seems unremarkable. Flat-topped, with an inscribed dedication on a simple moulding along its upper edge, Mikra's dedication visually resembles countless other Hellenistic votive stelai (Fig. 1).Footnote 1 In contrast to its conventional appearance, however, the stele's find context is both striking and unusual. The monument was discovered in 1910 together with fragments of at least six other inscribed stelai and an inscribed base at Zar Trypa, a remote cave high on Mount Ossa in north-eastern Thessaly. This assemblage – exceptionally large for a Greek cave – clearly identifies Zar Trypa as an important religious space sacred to the Nymphs.Footnote 2

Fig. 1. The dedication of Mikra, daughter of Damosthenes (© Hellenic Ministry of Culture and Sports / Ephorate of Antiquities of Larisa / Diachronic Museum of Larisa; photo by Peter Haarer).

The Nymphs are no strangers to ancient Thessaly. Through mythological narratives and genealogies, they are firmly linked to specific places in the region's real and imagined geography (Larson Reference Larson2001, 163–8), while their appearance on Classical and Hellenistic civic coinages gives them a unique place in Thessaly's divine iconography (Moustaka Reference Moustaka1983, 47–52; Mili Reference Mili2015, 42). Yet the surviving evidence for Thessalian cults of the Nymphs is both surprisingly limited and remarkably heterogenous. For example, inscribed monuments dedicated to the Nymphs are comparatively rare,Footnote 3 but nevertheless bear witness to a considerable diversity of sacred spacesFootnote 4 and divine associations.Footnote 5

This picture in many ways resembles the surviving evidence for Thessalian religion as a whole. Recent studies such as M. Mili's Religion and Society in Ancient Thessaly (Reference Mili2015) have highlighted the fragmentary and heterogenous nature of this material, and have demonstrated that many of its perceived overarching characteristics spring from later stereotypes rather than from genuine beliefs or religious practices.Footnote 6 Moving beyond these challenges and focusing on the intersection between religion and society, Mili's work emphasises that some cults of the Thessalian region may have played an important role in creating a Panthessalian group identity (Mili Reference Mili2015, 213–57), while others are markedly idiosyncratic and localised (Mili Reference Mili2015, 161–212).

In view of this complex, heterogenous and multifaceted role of religious beliefs and practices within Thessalian society, the concept of ‘lived religion’ provides a particularly appropriate framework for the study of Thessalian cults. Rather than viewing religion from a systematic or dogmatic angle, this cultural-historical approach focuses ‘on actual everyday experience, on practices, expressions, and interactions that could be related to “religion”’.Footnote 7 Although the concept of ‘lived religion’ was originally developed for the description and analysis of contemporary phenomena, it has over the past decade gained increasing traction in the study of Classical antiquity and has provided a useful basis for scholarly engagement with archaeological materials relating to different religious practices in the Graeco-Roman world.

Yet not all practices, expressions and interactions that shaped an individual's religious experience leave equally ‘visible’ or ‘readable’ archaeological traces. One group of activities that forms an important part of many contemporary religious experiences but is notoriously difficult to investigate archaeologically consists of the movements involved in or necessary for the participation in specific religious practices.Footnote 8 These movements can take place at various spatial ‘scales’, from activities within a particular sacred site to long-distance travel (often referred to by the controversial term ‘pilgrimage’).Footnote 9 Between these two spatial extremes lies the phenomenon of religiously motivated ‘local travel’, i.e. travel to and from a sacred site that involved a comparatively short journey of a day or two, often within the territory of a single city state.Footnote 10 Though archaeologically difficult to capture, this ‘mid-distance’ travel may well account for the majority of visitors at sacred sites in the Greek world and thus forms an important part of ‘everyday religious experience’ in Classical antiquity.

The following article seeks to offer a case-study of how a closer focus on the religious experience of ‘on-site’ and ‘mid-distance’ movement can contribute to a better understanding of Greek sacred sites and their archaeological assemblages.Footnote 11 The chosen case-study is the abovementioned Thessalian cave-sanctuary of Zar Trypa. Its remote location and natural topography present considerable logistical challenges to modern scholars, with the result that systematic research at the site has so far been limited. The current paper thus combines archival material and recent methods of landscape archaeology to investigate how a study of the Zar Trypa cave in its topographical context can inform our understanding of the site as a Classical and Hellenistic sacred space.

THE CAVE OF THE NYMPHS: A SACRED SPACE AND ITS FINDS

The Zar Trypa cave is located at an altitude of c. 1120 metres above mean sea level (henceforth ‘mamsl’) on the inland-facing east side of Mount Ossa, c. 3 km north of the modern village of Spilia (Fig. 2). Above an altitude of c. 800 mamsl, Mount Ossa divides into two distinctive peaks: the lower ridge of Psila Dendra in the west (1231 mamsl) and the main summit – known as Profitis Ilias – in the east (1978 mamsl).Footnote 12 The two peaks are divided by the upland valley of Megalo Pharagi (also known as Bougazi), which runs northwards from the village of Spilia. The Zar Trypa cave is located to the west of this valley, on the east slope of the Psila Dendra ridge (Fig. 3). The area immediately outside the cave's entrance provides a good view over the Megalo Pharagi valley and Mount Ossa's main summit, but due to the steepness of the slope between the cave and valley below it can only be accessed by following the Psila Dendra ridge (Fig. 4).

Fig. 2. The geography of eastern Thessaly: the location of the Zar Trypa cave.

Fig. 3. The Psila Dendra ridge from the south, with the location of the Zar Trypa cave.

Fig. 4. The view from the entrance of the Zar Trypa cave to the south toward the summit of Mount Ossa (March 2019).

Within the ancient political landscape of north-eastern Thessaly, it is unclear with which ethnos and city state the area around the cave was associated. The closest Classical and Hellenistic settlements are Elateia (in the Pelasgiotis)Footnote 13 and Homolion (in the perioikic region of Magnesia)Footnote 14 – both located in the foothills of Mount Ossa – but it is unclear where the border between these cities or between the Pelasgiotis and Magnesia should be drawn.Footnote 15 Equally difficult to understand is the cave's location within local settlement and land-use patterns: the cave lies high above other Classical or Hellenistic sites on Mount Ossa (Fig. 5),Footnote 16 and there is as yet no evidence for ancient resource management strategies on the mountain's upper slopes. This is not to say that the high-altitude area around the Zar Trypa cave was devoid of human activities. If comparisons to nineteenth-century and modern land-use patterns are anything to go by, Mount Ossa's upper slopes could have been host to a variety of different economic activities, for example pastoralism, beekeeping, hunting, woodcutting and charcoal burning.Footnote 17 Many of these economic activities would have required constant movement, been of a seasonal nature, and therefore left few archaeological traces.Footnote 18 In addition, they may have been tied to very specific social groups, with the result that the mountain's upper slopes may have been as unfamiliar to some as they were familiar to others.Footnote 19

Fig. 5. Classical and Hellenistic sites on and around Mount Ossa.

The earliest archaeological investigations at the Zar Trypa cave were undertaken in the first decade of the twentieth century.Footnote 20 In February 1910, the site was visited by A.J.B. Wace and M.S. Thompson (together with H.A. Ormerod and their local guide K. Phrangopoulos), who published a brief description of the cave and its votive inscriptions (Wace and Thompson Reference Wace and Thompson1909). This account provides as yet the most detailed record of the epigraphic remains from the site, especially when read together with additional notes and drawings in A.J.B. Wace's unpublished notebook, now in the archive of Pembroke College, Cambridge.Footnote 21

Shortly afterwards, in April 1910, A.S. Arvanitopoulos – better known for his research at Gonnoi and Demetrias – instigated the first excavations at the site, although he may not have participated personally in this work. The cave's inscriptions were transferred to the Museum of Larisa, but, after a few days, excavations were brought to a halt by heavy rain and were never resumed.Footnote 22

Following this early phase of investigation, the site was considered lost until its ‘re-discovery’ in 2009 by R. Wagman and A.G. Nichols from the University of Florida, with the help of I. Kontos from the village of Spilia (Wagman and Nichols Reference Wagman and Nichols2015). By spring 2019, the cave had suffered some roof collapse in the eastern part of its upper ‘chamber’ and showed signs of recent use as an animal shelter.Footnote 23 In addition, several modern icons had been placed on a stone ledge near the entrance, demonstrating a renewed use of the cave as a sacred space.Footnote 24

The cave of Zar Trypa consists of a series of connected underground spaces with extensive speleothem deposits. Its entrance is located in the south and is partly obscured by a large limestone outcrop, which forces the visitor to descend along a narrow, open, east–west ‘passage’ (Fig. 6). At the west end of this passage lies a small natural chamber, which is not directly connected to the main cave and has been used in recent times as a storage area or animal shelter.

Fig. 6. The narrow ‘entrance-passage’ of the Zar Trypa cave from the east (© Hellenic Ministry of Culture and Sports / Ephorate for Palaeoanthropology and Speleology; photo by the author).

The low entrance to the cave's main chambers is located on the north side of the passage. Crawling through an opening – too low to pass through upright – the visitor reaches the cave's large, flowstone-covered upper chamber, which measures c. 16 by 12 m (Fig. 7). The floor is tightly packed with earth and debris, and slopes towards the north-west, where a low, steep passage leads to a smaller lower chamber (c. 7 by 6.5 m). Like the upper chamber, this space is partly obscured by debris, but boasts impressive flowstone deposits along its walls (Fig. 8). A vertical opening leads from the lower chamber to a series of underground tunnels, which reportedly lead as far as 150 m into the hillside (Wagman and Nichols Reference Wagman and Nichols2015, 89), but are impossible to explore safely without the expertise and equipment of a professional speleologist.

Fig. 7. The upper chamber of the Zar Trypa cave, looking towards the entrance of the lower chamber (© Hellenic Ministry of Culture and Sports / Ephorate for Palaeoanthropology and Speleology; photo by the author).

Fig. 8. The flowstone deposits in the lower chamber of the Zar Trypa cave (© Hellenic Ministry of Culture and Sports / Ephorate for Palaeoanthropology and Speleology; photo by the author).

While Wace and Thompson did not record any objects other than the inscriptions and ‘a few vase fragments of uncertain date’ (Wace and Thompson Reference Wace and Thompson1909, 244), Arvanitopoulos’ excavation uncovered a range of small finds: fragments of pottery (dated by the excavator to the fourth and third centuries BC), pieces of bronze fibulae, fragments of figurines, a Thessalian bronze coin of Antonine date and a bronze ring with a depiction of Eros holding a bow.Footnote 25 Unfortunately, Arvanitopoulos’ brief report does not specify the approximate findspots of these objects, and their current whereabouts are unknown. But overall, the find assemblage seems consistent with the picture that has emerged over the past decades as typical for Greek cave-sanctuaries, with an emphasis on small, portable and possibly personal objects, rather than elaborate dedications. This pattern suggests that the ‘humble’ nature of the small finds at the Zar Trypa cave should not be taken as a reflection of the ancient visitors’ socioeconomic status, but as an indication that religious practices at the site conformed to a wider devotional tradition shared by worshippers at many different rural sanctuaries, regardless of wealth or social status.Footnote 26

In comparison to the small finds, the inscribed monuments from the Zar Trypa cave are comparatively well recorded. Wace and Thompson described fragments of one inscribed rectangular base and seven marble stelai,Footnote 27 to which two additional fragments were added during Arvanitopoulos’ excavation (Wace and Thompson Reference Wace and Thompson1909, 247). Only one of these monuments – McDevitt 647, mentioned at the beginning of this paper – could so far be located in the storerooms of the Archaeological Museum of Larisa. However, two uninscribed rectangular bases can still be found on site (Fig. 9). They are currently located in the cave's lower chamber, but a sketch-plan in Wace's notebook (GBR/1058/WAC/1/5: 54r) suggests that at least one of them was originally placed in the upper part of the cave (Fig. 10).Footnote 28

Fig. 9. The uninscribed bases in the lower chamber of the Zar Trypa cave (© Hellenic Ministry of Culture and Sports / Ephorate for Palaeoanthropology and Speleology; photo by the author).

Fig. 10. The sketch-plan from A.J.B. Wace's notebook (GBR/1058/WAC/1/5: 54r), showing the location of a base in the upper chamber (by permission of the Master and Fellows of Pembroke College, Cambridge).

Judging by the published descriptions and the drawings in Wace's notebook (Fig. 11), the inscriptions from the Zar Trypa cave probably belong to the third and second centuries BCFootnote 29 and thus fall within a period of considerable social and political volatility in north-eastern Thessaly.Footnote 30 The stelai were worked with ‘roots’ to set them into a base or the bedrock and with the exception of two pedimental stelai were flat-topped – a common type in Late Classical and Hellenistic north-eastern Thessaly.Footnote 31 On discovery, at least two of the monuments still bore slight traces of paint (Wace and Thompson Reference Wace and Thompson1909, 244).

Fig. 11. A drawing of the inscription McDevitt 643 from A.J.B. Wace's notebook (GBR/1058/WAC/1/5: 52v; by permission of the Master and Fellows of Pembroke College, Cambridge).

Even by 1910, all seven stelai only survived in fragments, but as far as it is possible to determine, the smallest of the monuments (McDevitt 646) originally measured 26 cm in width and 26 cm in height, the largest (McDevitt 647) 66 cm in width and 49 cm in height.Footnote 32 Although in other regions such stelai would count as comparatively minor, their size falls well within the typical range of Thessalian inscribed votivesFootnote 33 and even includes one of the largest flat-topped votive stelai thus far recorded in Thessaly.Footnote 34 This contextualisation stresses the importance of the Zar Trypa cave as a cult site and re-emphasises that the cave-sanctuary was not visited solely by worshippers of ‘humble’ socioeconomic status.

Both conclusions become even more apparent when the material of the stelai and bases is taken into account. According to Wace and Thompson (Reference Wace and Thompson1909, 244–6), all eight inscribed monuments were carved in marble, probably a grey marble similar to the material used for the surviving stele in the Archaeological Museum of Larisa. The exact provenance of this material is uncertain, but the nearest possible extraction sites known to have been exploited in antiquity lie in the north-western foothills of Mount Ossa and in the Tempe valley.Footnote 35 These quarries are located less than 15 km from the Zar Trypa cave, but are separated from the site by a difference of around 1110 m in altitude. Given that the cave's largest surviving stele must have weighed around 68 kg, pack-animals such as mules or donkeys were probably required for most stages of the journey between the quarry and the sanctuary, although at least from the mouth of the cave onwards the monuments had to be shifted with human muscle power alone.Footnote 36

Moving from the objects in general to the specific inscriptions, the inscribed monuments provide important information about the cult and selected cult participants at the Zar Trypa cave. All eight monuments can be identified (with varying degrees of certainty) as dedications to the Nymphs, who are the most commonly worshipped deities at cave-sanctuaries throughout the Greek world.Footnote 37 One inscription from the Zar Trypa cave (McDevitt 646) was dedicated Ὀρει[άσιν (‘to the Oreiads’) or Ὀρεί[αις Νύμφαις (‘to the Mountain Nymphs’) – a title that is so far without epigraphic parallels.Footnote 38 Like the noun ὄρος (‘mountain’), Ὀρειάς may have carried a variety of different connotations,Footnote 39 but without further parallels this remains difficult to assess. It is, however, clear that both ‘Oreiads’ and ‘Mountain Nymphs’ would be an eminently suitable name for a group of deities worshipped at an altitude of 1120 mamsl.

Besides identifying the Nymphs as the main cult recipients, the inscriptions offer some glimpses of individuals at the Zar Trypa cave. While the site's small-finds are not recognisably ‘gender-specific’, the inscriptions demonstrate that dedications were made by both men and women, possibly including a ‘family group’ of a male individual and his children (McDevitt 643).Footnote 40 The personal names of two dedicants survive in full or have been reconstructed with reasonable certainty: ‘Leon, the son of Antigonos’ (LGPN iiib.13541; McDevitt 645)Footnote 41 and ‘Enpedokleia, the daughter of Philodamos’ (LGPN iiib.10221; McDevitt 646).Footnote 42 The surviving letters on a third stele (McDevitt 647) were reconstructed by Wace and Thompson (Reference Wace and Thompson1909, 245) as [Νύ]νφαις Μί[κρα Δ]αμοσθενεία εὐξάμεναι [ἀνέθηκαν (?)], leading to some discussion whether this monument was dedicated by a single person (Mikra, the daughter of Damosthenes) or two individuals (Mikra and Damostheneia).Footnote 43

While the latter interpretation cannot be excluded, several observations point towards the former: firstly, inscriptions mentioning several dedicants without a connecting καί are rare among Thessalian votives,Footnote 44 and a closer examination of McDevitt 647 in the Archaeological Museum of Larisa suggests that the space between the surviving letters Μι[ and ]αμοσθενεία is not sufficient for the reconstruction Μί[κρα καὶ Δ]αμοσθενεία. Secondly, ‘Damostheneia’ is thus far only attested in Thessaly as a patronym and not as a female given name in its own right.Footnote 45 Thirdly, the spelling εὐξαμένα instead of εὐξαμένη is not uncommon in the region.Footnote 46 This means that, rather than belonging to the participle εὐξάμεναι, the final stroke visible on the inscription could be the beginning of another word, perhaps part of a formula beginning with πέρ (e.g. πὲρ γενεᾶς as in the dedication McDevitt 646 [Helly Reference Helly2013, 104]).Footnote 47 While any further restoration would be mere speculation, the combined force of all three observations suggests that the stele McDevitt 646 was most likely dedicated by a single individual named ‘Mikra, the daughter of Damosthenes’.

As Wace and Thompson (Reference Wace and Thompson1909, 245) already noted, a ‘Mikra, the daughter of Damosthenes’ also appears on a late fourth- or early third-century BC Thessalian list of female names from Phalanna or Larisa (IG 9(2).1227 [LGPN iiib.14503]).Footnote 48 Chronologically, it is possible that the ‘Mikra, the daughter of Damosthenes’ mentioned on this list and on the stele McDevitt 646 are the same individual. If this identification were correct, it would emphasise the cave-sanctuary's importance beyond the ‘local’ area of eastern Mount Ossa.

Three inscriptions from the Zar Trypa cave also include the common formula εὐξάμενος / εὐξαμένη (‘in fulfilment of a vow’; McDevitt 645, 647 and 650),Footnote 49 while Enpedokleia specified that her stele was dedicated πὲρ γενεᾶς (McDevitt 646). The meaning of this expression is not entirely clear and could either denote that Enpedokleia's dedication was made for the sake her existing familyFootnote 50 or in the hope of future children.Footnote 51 Regardless of which interpretation is more appropriate, the dedications from the Zar Trypa cave clearly emphasise the ‘personal’ nature of religious practices at the site.Footnote 52

EXPERIENCE: ENTERING THE CAVE

For the men, women and possibly children making dedications and participating in other religious activities at the Zar Trypa cave, the sensory and kinaesthetic aspects of visiting this particular sacred space must have formed an important part of their overall religious experience. For the purpose of analysis, this experience can be said to include three consecutive and interlinked, but also temporally and spatially distinct, ‘stages’: the approach to the Zar Trypa cave, the time spent within the ‘sacred space’ (including the descent into and the ascent from the cave) and the return from the site.

Focusing first on sensory and kinaesthetic experiences within the spatial ‘semi-micro level’ of the site,Footnote 53 one of the most distinctive and formative features of the ‘sacred space’ is its cave setting.Footnote 54 Cave-experiences are many-sided and can vary considerably depending on factors such as the layout and accessibility of a particular site, the social and cultural context of a visit, or even the personality and biography of the individual visitor.Footnote 55 This specificity makes it difficult to generalise on the effect that entering a cave or cave-sanctuary may have had on a visitor in antiquity.Footnote 56 However, as in the case of built sanctuaries, it is possible to reconstruct some aspects of the sensory experiences involved in visiting specific caves, without any claim to a complete reconstruction and without assuming any kind of all-encompassing empathic unity to human experience.

Caves (especially those with narrow entrances like the Zar Trypa cave) are very clearly bounded spaces, unambiguously defined and delineated by the solid natural rock that forms their walls, floors and ceilings. Many sensory experiences within this space are distinctly different from those immediately outside the cave's entrance. A visitor's sight has to adapt gradually to different levels of darkness, the temperature drops, the air is still but smells moist and earthy, external sounds are muffled, and even familiar voices resonate strangely within the cave's chambers. Some of these sensory differences between the cave and the ‘outside-world’ can be heightened by particular weather conditions. For example, the darkness of the Zar Trypa cave is particularly striking on a bright spring or autumn day, when the summit of Mount Ossa – visible across the Megalo Pharagi valley – is covered in dazzlingly white snow (Fig. 4).Footnote 57

Yet while the internal space of the Zar Trypa cave is clearly delineated and distinct from the ‘outside-world’, its boundaries are difficult to map. Visitors are at first disorientated by the murky darkness of the cave and even once their eyesight has adapted to the underground conditions or the cave has been lit by an artificial source of light, the flowstones and stalactites of the cave's speleothem deposits create an effect of light and dark shadow that visually blurs and disguises the boundaries of the sacred space (Fig. 12).

Fig. 12. The flowstone deposits in the upper chamber of the Zar Trypa cave (© Hellenic Ministry of Culture and Sports / Ephorate for Palaeoanthropology and Speleology; photo by the author).

As well as being a bounded space, the Zar Trypa cave is a transitional or liminal area that connects the ‘outside-world’ with the underground tunnels reaching far into the hillside. Movement through this transitional area – from the mouth of the cave to its dark interior – is structured by natural ‘thresholds’ into several stages: descending into the narrow but open entrance passage, passing underneath the rock that forms the lintel of the outermost entrance, crawling through the low opening into the upper chamber and finally descending into the lower chamber. With every threshold, the visitor enters an increasingly unfamiliar and ‘alien’ space in which many sensory stimuli that connect the visitor to the ‘outside world’ (e.g. light or sounds from above) gradually diminish. Leaving the cave can be an equally complex experience, in which the visitor progressively returns to a more familiar environment, but at the same time emerges dazzled by the now unfamiliar stimuli of the open hillside.

In antiquity as today, the effects of this ‘sensory journey’ were mediated by factors such as cultural context and personal experiences. Specific religious practices would also have shaped the visitor's sensory experience, for example by dictating the particular time of year and day for a visit or by requiring the performance of particular rituals at the site. Large parts of the ‘religious experience’ at the Classical and Hellenistic Zar Trypa cave are thus impossible to reconstruct and irretrievably lost.

However, some effects of the ‘sensory journey’ into the Zar Trypa cave are a direct result of the environmental conditions that prevail in dark and partially ‘sound proof’ underground spaces. The deeper the visitor descends into the cave, the fewer external stimuli (especially visual) he or she experiences. While extended ‘sensory deprivation’ can result in drastic effects such as hallucinations, a moderate reduction of external stimuli – as experienced during a visit to an underground space like the Zar Trypa cave – can focus the mind on specific and limited remaining stimuli (e.g. a single light, sound or touch) and thus heighten a specific experience.Footnote 58

Regardless of cultural context and personal experiences, the natural ambience of the Zar Trypa cave thus provides a formative background for religious activity at the site, naturally enhancing specific experiences through the visitors’ heightened attention on limited sensory stimuli. In consequence, ‘religious experiences’ that were clearly different to and distinct from other everyday activities were attainable for any visitor to the site – regardless of gender, age and socioeconomic status – and could if necessary be achieved without elaborate paraphernalia or complex ritual activities. This makes the Zar Trypa cave an ideal space for a cult with a ‘personal’ focus, as reflected in the surviving dedications from the site.

In the absence of more detailed epigraphic evidence, it is impossible to reconstruct how ancient visitors to the Zar Trypa cave viewed their own ‘religious experience’. One possible framework is the phenomenon of nympholepsy – the belief that the Nymphs could ‘seize’ certain individuals, inducing various psychophysiological responses (e.g. heightened awareness or elevated verbal skills) and in some cases leading to exceptional acts of devotion.Footnote 59 One important Thessalian point of reference is a fourth- or third-century BC rock-cut inscription from the cave-sanctuary at Mount Karaplas near Pharsalos, which recounts how a certain Pantalkes was chosen by the Nymphs to oversee their sanctuary.Footnote 60 Although it is impossible to establish whether visitors to the Zar Trypa cave may have viewed themselves as ‘seized by the nymph’, the phenomenon of nympholepsy is thus attested in Late Classical or Hellenistic Thessaly and offers one possible conceptional framework for the ‘sensory journey’ through the Zar Trypa cave.

EXPERIENCE: APPROACHING THE CAVE

Besides the Zar Trypa cave's underground setting, a key feature in the ‘religious experience’ of visiting this particular sacred space is its remote location. As noted above, the cave is situated at an unusually high altitude, far above and several kilometres away from the nearest known ancient settlement. Consequently, the movement to and from the Zar Trypa cave would have formed an integral part of most visits to the site in antiquity.Footnote 61

Yet investigating such ‘macro-level’ movement between different ancient sites – whether in a religious context or not – is methodologically challenging. On Mount Ossa, comparatively few remains of ancient roads and paths have thus far been uncovered,Footnote 62 and depending on the mode of transport, scholars should not expect every ancient path to leave archaeological traces or to be clearly marked in the first place. To use a modern parallel, anyone who has walked across the Greek countryside with a local shepherd, goatherd or hunter will have encountered a complex network of paths or monopatia which are commonly shared and widely used, but unmarked and only visible to those with local knowledge.

In the face of these challenges, GIS-based ‘cost surfaces’ and ‘least cost path analyses’ have become an increasingly common tool in the archaeological study of ancient ‘macro-level’ movement.Footnote 63 To identify an optimal route through a landscape (a ‘least cost path’), the local topography is represented through a raster map, in which every cell is assigned the ‘cost’ necessary to traverse the cell (e.g. the time or effort). This raster is used to calculate a cumulative cost surface relative to a specific origin of travel and provides the basis for constructing the most ‘efficient’ route – the ‘least cost path’ – from the chosen point of origin to a particular destination. This approach may look beguilingly ‘factual’, but in reality is anything but objective: the cost paths are a direct result of the function chosen by the archaeologist to represent the relationship between cost and topography, i.e. to generate the cost surface.Footnote 64 When investigating an archaeological landscape like Mount Ossa, it is thus crucial to identify a cost function that is appropriate to the specific topographical setting and likely means of transport.

For most travellers in antiquity, walking was the standard method of movement (Pikoulas Reference Pikoulas, Adams and Roy2007, 79; Collar Reference Collar, Collar and Kristensen2020, 37), even across distances which most modern scholars would find challenging.Footnote 65 Travel by donkey or mule would also have been possible on Mount Ossa's steep and rocky terrain; in fact, the weight of the inscribed monuments at the Zar Trypa cave strongly suggests that they reached the site by pack-animal rather than through human muscle power alone.

Footpaths and donkey-tracks continued to feature prominently in the landscape of north-eastern Thessaly well into the modern period. One notable example is the track between the mountain villages of Ampelakia and Spilia, which is comparatively well-described in a nineteenth-century source.Footnote 66 Using this route as a point of reference, it is possible to compare and evaluate the suitability of different least cost path functions for the analysis of movement on ancient Mount Ossa.

For the current study, four different least cost path functions were considered. The first two are based on the so-called ‘Tobler's Hiking Function’, which – on the basis of empirical data – describes the relationship between slope and walking speed.Footnote 67 While the original ‘Tobler's Hiking Function’ is anisotropic (i.e. different for uphill and downhill slopes), both functions used here are isotropic to account for bidirectional movement. The third function is based on a version of ‘Tobler's Hiking Function’ adapted for travel in natural areas,Footnote 68 while the fourth describes the relative energy cost necessary to traverse different slopes.Footnote 69

When applied to Mount Ossa, three of the four functions – ‘Tobler's Hiking Function’ (as applied by White Reference White2015), the modified ‘Tobler's Hiking Function’ and the energy cost function – produce near-identical least cost paths, which provide a suitably close match to the actual route between Ampelakia and Spilia (Fig. 13).Footnote 70 ‘Tobler's Hiking Function’ and the modified ‘Tobler's Hiking Function’ also provide an estimated walking time in hours (Fig. 14), of which the latter corresponds more closely to the five-to-six hours required to walk the distance between Ampelakia and Spilia today.Footnote 71 Among the four compared functions, the modified ‘Tobler's Hiking Function’ thus offers the most promising tool for investigating ‘macro-level’ movement between the Zar Trypa cave and the surrounding ancient settlements.

Fig. 13. Comparing the traditional route between Ampelakia and Spilia with the results of four different least cost path analyses: ‘Tobler's Hiking Function’ (after Tripcevich Reference Tripcevich2009 and White Reference White2015), the modified ‘Tobler's Hiking Function’ (after Márquez-Pérez, Vallejo-Villalta and Álvarez-Francoso Reference Márquez-Pérez, Vallejo-Villalta and Álvarez-Francoso2017) and the energy cost function (after Minetti et al. Reference Minetti, Moia, Roi, Susta and Ferretti2002).

Fig. 14. The traditional route between Ampelakia and Spilia: least cost path and ‘walking distance’.

The first feature highlighted by such an analysis is the remoteness of the cave. This characteristic becomes particularly evident when calculating the ‘cost boundaries’ between the surrounding settlements, i.e. identifying which areas are most quickly accessible from which urban centre (Fig. 15). Although depending on the means of transport actual travel times could be shorter than the calculated ‘walking distances’ suggest,Footnote 72 the cost boundaries demonstrate that the Zar Trypa cave is not located significantly ‘closer’ to one of the settlements than to any other. Instead, the cave-sanctuary lies in a ‘liminal’ space between the different urban centres – if not politically, then at least with regards to accessibility.Footnote 73

Fig. 15. The urban centres of Mount Ossa: cost boundaries and walking distances.

Examining the spatial relationship between the Zar Trypa cave and the surrounding settlements in more detail, the modified ‘Tobler's Hiking Function’ provides estimates for the walking times required to travel to and from the cave (Fig. 16).Footnote 74 For the inhabitants living at or around the nearest known settlements – at the archaeological sites of Elateia (Pelasgiotis), Gonnoi (Perrhaibia) and Homolion (Magnesia) – participation in religious activities at the Zar Trypa cave required a combined outbound and return journey of at least 8 to 12 hours, assuming that the participants travelled on foot and did not stop for any lengthy ‘breaks’ along the route.

Fig. 16. The Zar Trypa cave: walking distances and least cost paths.

In reality, these figures may well be an underestimate. Since GIS-based movement analyses prioritise certain decision-making factors – in this case the slope – over others, it is very likely that many ancient paths and tracks did not strictly follow what an archaeologist might see as the most efficient routes through Mount Ossa's landscape. For example, the current GIS-model does not take into account differences in surface vegetation, minor watercourses, the accumulation of surface runoff water or the location of springs, all of which may lead to divergences from the most ‘efficient’ routes and therefore to longer overall travel times. ‘Walking times’ are also strongly dependent on individual physiology and thus would differ according to the age, sex, build and health of the visitors at the Zar Trypa cave.

In addition, the weight and size of the inscriptions from the Zar Trypa cave suggests that at least some of the monuments were transported to the sanctuary on the back of pack-animals. To the author's knowledge, no equivalent of ‘Tobler's Hiking Function’ for donkeys or mules exists as yet, but on average a pack-donkey moves at just over half the speed of a pedestrian travelling light.Footnote 75 If worshippers like Leon, the son of Antigonos, Enpedokleia, the daughter of Philodamos, and Mikra, the daughter of Damosthenes, accompanied their dedications to the Zar Trypa cave, their total journey time from the foothills to the cave and back would be considerably longer, possibly as much as 12 to 18 hours.Footnote 76

These estimates – though very tentative – suggest that any participation in religious activities at the Zar Trypa cave was a considerable undertaking. Depending on the time of year, the daylight hours in north-eastern Thessaly vary between 9:21 h in late December and 14:58 h in June, with an additional hour of civil twilight.Footnote 77 In consequence, a journey to and from the Zar Trypa cave would have been possible within daylight hours during some months, but not others, especially if any additional time was spent at the Zar Trypa cave or at stops along the journey (Table 1). For many visitors, setting out to the cave before daybreak or staying overnight along the route would have played a significant role in their overall experience of taking part in religious activities at the site.

Table 1. A comparison of the total estimated travel times (between the Zar Trypa cave and three ancient settlements) and the daylight hours at four different times of the year.

Besides the mere time and effort required to reach a certain destination,Footnote 78 the ancient visitors’ experience of travelling to and from a sacred site undoubtedly also encompassed many additional factors. In the case of the Zar Trypa cave, some experiences are impossible to reconstruct. For example, it is unclear whether visits to the cave were connected to certain points in the year or in an individual's life-cycle, if visitors travelled alone or in groups, or whether religious activities were performed en route as well as at the destination. But nevertheless – just as within the semi-micro level of the cave site – it is possible to ‘flesh out’ the visitors’ macro-level experience by placing their movements to and from the cave within the wider physical landscape of Mount Ossa.

Regardless of the specific time of visit and route, every traveller setting out from one of the nearby major settlements towards the Zar Trypa cave moved through a succession of different environments, ever more unlike the familiar plain and foothills as the altitude increases. This effect is emphasised by the temperature – on average c. 5 °C cooler at the Zar Trypa cave than at Gonnoi on the plain belowFootnote 79 – and particular weather phenomena, for example the high clouds that often shroud the upper parts of Mount Ossa during the later summer and early autumn. Similarly, vegetation patterns are very different in various altitude zones, especially during the spring, when the seasons are more advanced on the plain than on the upper slopes (Fig. 17). Although it would be wrong to view upper Mount Ossa as an ‘empty’ or ‘unproductive’ landscape,Footnote 80 travel from the plain to the Zar Trypa cave thus required the visitor to move through an increasingly unfamiliar landscape, from the world of the plain to the world of the ὄρος.Footnote 81 Perhaps it is partly this journey that resonates in the address of the Nymphs as ‘Oreiads’ or ‘Mountain Nymphs’.

Fig. 17. Mount Ossa from the west. This image, taken in March 2019, demonstrates the difference in seasonal vegetation patterns between the summit, the slopes and the plain.

A further factor that must have contributed to the experience of visiting the Zar Trypa cave is the site's visibility, or rather the site's invisibility. The cave's entrance is completely hidden by nearby rocks and is difficult to find without local knowledge. Even if the cave's entrance was clearly marked in antiquity by an ephemeral man-made or natural feature, this would not significantly increase the site's visibility. As a GIS-viewshed analysis demonstrates, the area from which the cave's location can be seen is comparatively limited, and especially visitors approaching from the west and north-west would not be able to catch a glimpse of the site from a distance of more than a few metres beyond the cave's entrance (Fig. 18). The main summit of Mount Ossa – a clear landmark when moving towards the Zar Trypa cave – would also be hidden from view for some of the ascent (Fig. 19), and it is only at the Zar Trypa ridge that both Mount Ossa and Mount Olympus come fully into view.

Fig. 18. The Zar Trypa cave: viewsheds and least cost paths.

Fig. 19. The Zar Trypa cave and the summit of Mount Ossa: viewsheds and least cost paths.

The experience of walking to the Zar Trypa cave is thus very different from a journey to a mountaintop sanctuary.Footnote 82 While the latter usually enjoys a high visibility and visually dominates the surrounding countryside, Mount Ossa's cave-sanctuary is practically invisible to the approaching visitor. Participating in religious activities at the site thus not only required considerable time and effort, but also access to local topographical knowledge and an undeniable amount of trust – not least in a human guide's power to find and recognise a suitable path across the unfamiliar mountainside.

CONCLUSION: ‘SACRED TRAVEL’ AS ‘ECONOMIC INVESTMENT’

Examining the Zar Trypa cave within the natural environment of Mount Ossa reveals – in surprising detail – some aspects of the Classical or Hellenistic visitor's religious experience. Both within the semi-micro level of the cave and the macro level of the wider landscape, visits may have been strongly shaped by movement from the familiar to the unfamiliar, culminating in a naturally enhanced experience of the religious activities that took place within the sacred space itself. This experience was made possible and ‘framed’ by the considerable time and effort expended in reaching the cave and in returning to the visitors’ ordinary area of life after the completion of their religious activities. What is, however, more difficult to evaluate is the importance which individual participants attached to the journey to and from the cave, i.e. whether travel was merely necessary to reach the sacred space or whether the journey itself formed part of the religious activity. In other words, was the long and presumably tiring walk to the Zar Trypa cave seen as a form of devotion?

This question is not unique to the Zar Trypa cave and is firmly embedded in the broader scholarly debate of whether the concept of ‘pilgrimage’ provides an appropriate framework for the description and analysis of religiously motivated travel in pre-Christian antiquity.Footnote 83 While much in this debate hinges on the precise definition of the term ‘pilgrimage’, many scholars have highlighted that several features intrinsic to modern ‘pilgrimages’ are not an integral part of Classical or Hellenistic sacred travel. In particular, ‘sacred travel’ in antiquity was not necessarily a personal spiritual as well as a literal physical journey (Scullion Reference Scullion, Elsner and Rutherford2005, 121–3; Collar and Kristensen Reference Collar, Kristensen, Collar and Kristensen2020, 13), while suffering – an important feature of many contemporary pilgrimage practices – was not considered essential for the validity of a pre-Christian sacred journey (Collar Reference Collar, Collar and Kristensen2020, 39).

In the absence of written testimonies, the issue of whether the travel to the Zar Trypa cave was merely a means of accessing the sacred space or was in itself a religious activity is impossible to resolve. However, one useful way of reframing the question is to consider the economic dimension of ‘sacred travel’. The GIS-based analysis of the Zar Trypa cave's topographical context has clearly demonstrated the considerable commitment of time that was required to reach the site – time that could otherwise have been spent on economically productive activities.Footnote 84 Walking to the Zar Trypa cave thus had real economic implications, which are quantifiable by assessing the duration of the ‘sacred journey’. By participating in the cult at the site, visitors chose to ‘invest’ at least one day's worth of labour in a religious activity.

In consequence, any dedication made at the Zar Trypa cave represents not only a religious investment equal to the value of the dedicated object, but also the additional investment of time required to reach the sacred space.Footnote 85 In some cases, the economic investment of the journey may well outstrip the economic value of the ‘humble’ dedication itself. Walking to the Zar Trypa cave – whether perceived as a religious activity or not – thus enhanced the value of the gifts made to the Nymphs.

This conclusion demonstrates the importance and potential of viewing Greek sacred sites – especially those without detailed excavation records – within the context of their surrounding natural and human landscape. By combining archival studies and landscape archaeology, the scanty archaeological remains at the Zar Trypa cave become a useful case study in how a focus on the ancient visitors’ experiences can offer an avenue towards a better understanding of Classical and Hellenistic religious activities. Through its remote location, the cave provides a clear demonstration of the ‘invisible’ economic investment inherent in the archaeological traces of ritual activities. Irrespective of whether the participants in these activities saw the journey to the Zar Trypa cave as a form of devotion, their commitment in time and effort had become an intrinsic part of their gifts to the Nymphs. And perhaps it is worth remembering that several of the inscribed stelai at the cave were dedicated in fulfilment of a vow: would it be fanciful to imagine that the vows made by the likes of Leon, the son of Antigonos, and Mikra, the daughter of Damosthenes, not only encompassed the dedications themselves, but also the personal journey from Mount Ossa's foothills to the mysterious space of the Zar Trypa cave?

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

This article would not have been possible without the help, support, and relevant permits of the Ephorate of Antiquities of Larisa and the Ephorate of Palaeoanthropology and Speleology, to whom I express my gratitude. I would especially like to thank Dr Stavroula Sdrolia and Dr Giorgos Toufexis for their support, and Mrs Stella Katakouta for the permission to study and photograph the surviving stele from the cave in the storerooms of the Archaeological Museum of Larisa. Furthermore, I would like to thank to Elizabeth Ennion-Smith for her help in consulting the notebooks of A.J.B. Wace at Pembroke College, Cambridge, and the Master and Fellows of the college for the permission to consult and publish sketches from this material. I am also very much indebted to the anonymous reviewers for their helpful and constructive comments and to Prof. Maria Stamatopoulou for her support throughout my research, in particular for her help in attempting to trace any surviving finds from A.S. Arvanitopoulos’ excavation. In addition, I would like to thank New College, Oxford, for providing an ideal academic framework for my research, as well as the Thomas Whitcombe Greene Fund (Faculty of Classics, Oxford), the Meyerstein Bequest (School of Archaeology, Oxford) and the Ludwig Humanities Research Fund (New College, Oxford) for supporting my travel and fieldwork in Thessaly. Unless otherwise stated, all site photographs, landscape photographs and maps in this article are by the author.

Footnotes

1 The inscribed dedications from the Zar Trypa cave were first published by Wace and Thompson (Reference Wace and Thompson1909, 244–7) and subsequently included in several regional catalogues and corpora (McDevitt 643–50; Heinz Reference Heinz1998, 315–17 nos 255–60, 429 no. A 110; Helly Reference Helly2013, 103–5 nos 1–7; Mili Reference Mili2015, no. 357). The inscriptions will be referred to in this article by their number in McDevitt Reference McDevitt1970. Both the dedication of Mikra and the other inscriptions from the Zar Trypa cave will be discussed in detail below.

2 According to Sporn (Reference Sporn, Haug and Müller2020, 174), most epigraphic assemblages from cave-sanctuaries on the Greek mainland or the islands include no more than one or two inscribed monuments.

3 Beyond the material from the Zar Trypa cave, Thessalian inscribed monuments dedicated to the Nymphs are limited to a 5th-century BC and a 4th- or 3rd-century BC inscription from the cave-sanctuary at Mount Karaplas near Pharsalos (SEG 1.247–8; I.Vallée Enipeus 72–3; Wagman Reference Wagman2016, 57–93), two 3rd-century BC inscriptions from Atrax (I.Atrax 75 and 83) and a late 2nd-century BC inscribed base from Hypata (SEG 3.453; de la Coste-Messelière and Daux Reference Coste-Messelière and Daux1924, 365–6; Heinz Reference Heinz1998, 430; McDevitt Reference McDevitt1970, 7 no. 6). In addition, a 4th-century BC votive relief from Skotoussa shows the god Pan with three female figures, interpreted by Heinz (Reference Heinz1998, 314–15) as Nymphs.

4 For example, the ‘natural’ setting of the cave on Mount Ossa contrasts sharply with the human interventions in and around the cave-sanctuary at Mount Karaplas (Wagman Reference Wagman2016, 19–34). I.Atrax 83, which mentions the embellishment of a sanctuary, provides a further insight into a possible cult setting. For the location of this sanctuary and the possible attribution of several architectural members to its structures, see Tziafalias Reference Tziafalias1995, 73.

5 The 3rd-century BC inscription I.Atrax 75 is dedicated to the Nymphs and to Dionysos, while the abovementioned votive relief from Skotoussa probably shows three Nymphs approaching the god Pan (Heinz Reference Heinz1998, 314–15). A particularly wide range of divinities is associated with the Nymphs at the cave-sanctuary at Mount Karaplas (Pan, Hermes, Apollo, Herakles, ‘the fellow deities’, Chiron, Asklepios and Hygieia [I.Vallée Enipeus 73]).

6 Mili Reference Mili2015, 12–51, 259–99. For Thessalian ‘stereotypes’ in ancient sources, see also Kravaritou and Stamatopoulou Reference Kravaritou, Stamatopoulou, Ekroth and Nielsen2018, 125–8.

7 Raja and Rüpke Reference Raja, Rüpke, Raja and Rüpke2015, 4. For the concepts of ‘lived religion’ and ‘lived ancient religion’, see for example also McGuire Reference McGuire2008, 3–18; Raja and Rüpke Reference Raja, Rüpke, Raja and Rüpke2015, 3–4; Albrecht et al. Reference Albrecht, Degelmann, Gasparini, Gordon, Patzelt, Petridou, Raja, Rieger, Rüpke, Sippel, Urciuoli and Weiss2018, 568–71.

8 Connelly Reference Connelly and Chaniotis2011; Scriven Reference Scriven2014; Collar and Kristensen Reference Collar, Kristensen, Collar and Kristensen2020, 13; Collar Reference Collar, Collar and Kristensen2020, 35. As an ephemeral phenomenon, religiously motivated movement leaves few or no clear archaeological traces (Friese and Kristensen Reference Friese, Kristensen, Kristensen and Friese2017, 4; Kristensen Reference Kristensen, Friese, Handberg and Kristensen2019, 13). In addition, it often remains unclear (especially in the absence of textual sources) how ritual can be inferred reliably from a given archaeological space or artefact (Luginbühl Reference Luginbühl, Raja and Rüpke2015, 54; Elsner Reference Elsner, Friese and Kristensen2017).

9 For the use of the term ‘pilgrimage’ to describe phenomena of sacred travel in the Graeco-Roman world, see for example Dillon Reference Dillon1997, xviii–xix; Elsner and Rutherford Reference Elsner, Rutherford, Elsner and Rutherford2005, 1–9; Rutherford Reference Rutherford2013, 12–14; Collar and Kristensen Reference Collar, Kristensen, Collar and Kristensen2020, 7–8; Friese and Kristensen Reference Friese, Kristensen, Kristensen and Friese2017, 2–4; Bremmer Reference Bremmer, Kristensen and Friese2017, 277–81. For a possible ‘typology’ of ancient pilgrimages, see Elsner and Rutherford Reference Elsner, Rutherford, Elsner and Rutherford2005, 9–30; for a criticism of this ‘typology’, see Friese and Kristensen Reference Friese, Kristensen, Kristensen and Friese2017, 3.

10 For the phenomenon of ‘local pilgrimage’, see Elsner and Rutherford Reference Elsner, Rutherford, Elsner and Rutherford2005, 18.

11 This approach is in part inspired by studies such as Wescoat's (Reference Wescoat, Kristensen and Friese2017) phenomenological investigation of pilgrims’ kinaesthetic experiences at the sanctuary of the Great Gods on Samothrace, adapting her line of enquiry to a ‘natural’ rather than an ‘architectural’ space. Phenomenological approaches are common in the analysis of Prehistoric sacred caves (see for example Bjerk Reference Bjerk, Bergsvik and Skeates2012; Skeates Reference Skeates and Dowd2016; Whitehouse Reference Whitehouse and Dowd2016), but have so far only rarely been applied to the study of Greek cave-sanctuaries of the Classical or Hellenistic periods. Notable exceptions include the work of Laferrière (Reference Laferrière2019) and Papalexandrou (Reference Papalexandrou, Katsarou and Nagel2020).

12 Wace and Thompson (Reference Wace and Thompson1909, 243) refer to this peak as ‘Plaka’, but strictly speaking this toponym belongs to the lower northern part of the Psila Dendra ridge (as noted, for example, on the 1972 1:100,000 Greek Army Map [sheet “Αγιά”]).

13 For the sites at modern Elateia and Trochalo and their identification with ancient Elateia, see Arvanitopoulos Reference Arvanitopoulos1911, 332–4; Stählin Reference Stählin1924, 88, 90; Helly Reference Helly1973, 34; Gallis and Tziafalias Reference Gallis and Tziafalias1974, 582–3; Tziafalias Reference Tziafalias2000, 99. Bouchon and Helly (Reference Bouchon and Helly2016) suggested an alternative identification of the remains at modern Elateia with ancient Gyrtone, but as Stamatopoulou and Katakouta (Reference Stamatopoulou and Katakouta2020, 387–8) have argued, a location of this important settlement at Gremouras to the west of Larisa is more likely.

14 For the site of Omolio and its identification with ancient Homolion, see Arvanitopoulos Reference Arvanitopoulos1910a, 188–90; Reference Arvanitopoulos1911, 284–8; Theocharis and Lazaridis Reference Theocharis and Lazaridis1961, 175–8; Theocharis Reference Theocharis1965; Vitos Reference Vitos2017. Helly (Reference Helly and Kypraiou2004, 110; Reference Helly2013, 180–1, 276) argued for a location of ancient Homolion at modern Kokkino Nero, but this hypothesis would be difficult to reconcile with the scarcity of Classical and Hellenistic archaeological material at this site.

15 Bouchon and Helly (Reference Bouchon and Helly2016, 132) suggested that the name ‘Mikra, daughter of Damosthenes’, which occurs both in an inscription from the Zar Trypa cave (McDevitt 647 [LGPN iiib.14504]) and in an inscription from Larisa (IG 9(2).1227 [LGPN iiib.14503]), could indicate that the area of Psila Dendra was under the control of Larisa in the late 4th and the early 3rd centuries BC. However, there is no reason to assume that worship at the cave was limited to visitors from a particular political territory. On the reconstruction of McDevitt 647, the identification of the individuals mentioned in McDevitt 647 and IG 9(2).1227, and the provenance of IG 9(2).1227, see below.

16 Classical and Hellenistic remains on the slopes of Mount Ossa are concentrated in the area below 300 mamsl. This ‘site horizon’ is specific to the Classical and Hellenistic periods and is not replicated in earlier or later phases of human activity. For example, both a Mycenaean tholos tomb (Theocharis Reference Theocharis1969a; Reference Theocharis1969b) and a group of 4th- or 5th-century AD graves (Tziafalias Reference Tziafalias1981) have been recorded at an altitude of c. 800 mamsl near the modern village of Spilia. This suggests that the absence of Classical and Hellenistic sites above 300 mamsl reflects a genuine settlement pattern, rather than a coincidence of survival and recovery or a focus of archaeological research on Mount Ossa's foothills.

17 Even today, Mount Ossa's slopes are an economically active landscape, where pastoralism, beekeeping, hunting, woodcutting and chestnut cultivation are widely practised. Yet both modern and pre-mechanised land-use patterns (documented for example by Leonardos Reference Leonardos1836, 135–72) are highly localised, with many activities taking place at a considerably lower altitude than the Zar Trypa cave (1120 mamsl) and the Psila Dendra ridge (1231 mamsl). For example, Ottoman tax documents (Kiel Reference Kiel and Agrafiotis2002) and the accounts of J.J. Björnståhl (Reference Björnståhl1783, 204), I.A. Leonardos (Reference Leonardos1836, 143, 155, 158–9, 166, 168) and H.F. Tozer (Reference Tozer1869, 62) indicate that viticulture was once widely practised on Mount Ossa, but was largely confined to areas below 800 mamsl. For a more recent record of this distinctive land-use pattern, see also the vineyards marked on the 1940 1:100,000 German Army Map (sheet 7E “Larissa” and sheet 8E “Ajiia”). Similarly, modern chestnut cultivation on Mount Ossa is ecologically limited to slopes below c. 500 mamsl (Sivignon Reference Sivignon1975, 79–80). For a general discussion of the economic use of ancient Greek uplands and other uncultivated landscapes, see for example Buxton Reference Buxton1992, 2–4; Forbes Reference Forbes, Shipley and Salmon1996.

18 For example, the results of stable isotope analyses of sheep and goat teeth from Hellenistic Kastro Kallithea in southern Thessaly include evidence for seasonal mobile flock management (Bishop Reference Bishop2021; Bishop et al. Reference Bishop, Garvie-Lok, Haagsma, MacKinnon and Karapanou2020), while vertical transhumance between winter pastures in the Almyros and Sourpi plains and summer pastures in the Othrys mountains was still practised at least as recently as the 1990s (Reinders and Prummel Reference Reinders and Prummel1998, 86–9). In contrast, survivorship curves from the Classical and Hellenistic sites of Magoula Plataniotiki and New Halos (both on the Almyros plain) highlight the importance of local flock management strategies, perhaps due to the political instability of the region (Filioglou, Prummel and Çakirlar Reference Filioglou, Prummel and Çakirlar2021). Judging by this case study, archaeologists should not necessarily assume that transhumance was a predominant practice in antiquity, even in areas where mobile flock management strategies existed in more recent periods. For a summary of epigraphic evidence for local and non-local grazing rights in ancient Thessaly, see Bishop Reference Bishop2021, 220–32.

19 For example, modern transhumance in the Almyros and Sourpi plains has mostly been practised by men (Reinders and Prummel Reference Reinders and Prummel1998, 86).

20 The Swedish traveller J.J. Björnståhl, who visited Mount Ossa in 1779, inquired without successes about ‘a strange cave’ and ‘a stone with an inscription, which is said to be here’ (Björnståhl Reference Björnståhl1783, 208–9), but it is unclear if the site in question is the Zar Trypa cave.

21 In the following, this notebook will be referred to by the archival reference code GBR/1058/WAC/1/5.

22 Arvanitopoulos Reference Arvanitopoulos1910a, 183–4. Arvanitopoulos clearly hoped to continue the work at Zar Trypa (Wace and Thompson Reference Wace and Thompson1909, 247; Arvanitopoulos Reference Arvanitopoulos1910a, 184), but no further excavations were carried out.

23 Wace and Thompson (Reference Wace and Thompson1909, 243) already mentioned a rock-fall in this area, although some of the collapse observed in 2019 could be of more recent date.

24 The use of natural caves as chapels is comparatively common on Mount Ossa. Particularly prominent examples include the cave-chapel of Agia Paraskevi at Homolion (Hild et al. Reference Hild, Koder, Spanos and Agraphiotis1987, 82; Nikonanos Reference Nikonanos1997, 129–31; Sdrolia Reference Sdrolia and Mazarakis Ainian2006, 404), the hermitage of Agios Panteleimon near Melivoia (Nikonanos Reference Nikonanos1997, 131) and the church of the Dormition of the Mother of God at Spilia (Wagman and Nichols Reference Wagman and Nichols2015, 91).

25 Wace and Thompson Reference Wace and Thompson1909, 247; Arvanitopoulos Reference Arvanitopoulos1910a, 184–5. Wagman and Nichols (Reference Wagman and Nichols2015, 87–9) also noted numerous pottery sherds in the upper chamber, while the visit in 2019 confirmed the presence of black-glazed fragments within this assemblage. All visible surface material within the cave is strongly abraded and very fragmentary.

26 For typical votive categories at cave-sanctuaries, see Wagman Reference Wagman2016, 54; Sporn Reference Sporn2010, 568; Reference Sporn, Mavridis and Jensen2013, 209. For the devotional tradition of ‘rustic votives’, see Larson Reference Larson2001, 227–8.

27 For the original publication of the stelai and bases by Wace and Thompson (Reference Wace and Thompson1909, 244–7) and their inclusion in subsequent corpora and catalogues, see above. Unless otherwise stated, the following discussion is based on Wace and Thompson's original description.

28 The two bases measure 49 by 49 cm and 45 by 45 cm respectively. A rectangular socket (measuring 28 by 18 cm and 25 by 18 cm) for the insertion of an object is cut in the top of each base. For the bases, see also Wace and Thompson Reference Wace and Thompson1909, 243–4; Wagman and Nichols Reference Wagman and Nichols2015, 89.

29 Due to the comparatively small number of securely dated inscriptions from north-eastern Thessaly, the study of letter forms alone does not allow a more precise dating. For a discussion of the development of Thessalian letter forms, see for example Helly Reference Helly1973, 174–6; Heinz Reference Heinz1998, 160–8; for the dating of the stelai from the Zar Trypa cave, see Heinz Reference Heinz1998, 315–17, 429; Wagman and Nichols Reference Wagman and Nichols2015, 91. Heinz (Reference Heinz1998, 429) suggested a 4th-century BC date for the inscribed base McDevitt 643, but the drawing in A.J.B. Wace's unpublished notebook (GBR/1058/WAC/1/5: 52v) shows letter-forms that are more consistent with a date in the second half of the 3rd century BC (Heinz Reference Heinz1998, 162–7). Similarly, the additional information provided by the drawings suggests a 2nd-century BC date for the stele McDevitt 645.

30 For military conflicts and political upheavals in 3rd- and 2nd-century BC Thessaly and their economic consequences, see for example Helly Reference Helly1973, 99–104; Walsh Reference Walsh2000; Helly Reference Helly2007; Zelnick-Abramovitz Reference Zelnick-Abramovitz2013, 121–7; Bouchon Reference Bouchon2014. Focusing on Mount Ossa, literary sources attest military actions around the mountain's foothills during the Second Macedonian War (e.g. Polybius 18.27, 18.33; Livy 32.15) and the Third Macedonian War (e.g. Livy 42.61–7), while epigraphic sources bear witness to a grain shortage at Gonnoi in the first half of the 2nd century BC (Gonnoi 42). Due to the comparatively broad date range of the inscriptions from the Zar Trypa cave, it is however impossible to position the individual monuments more precisely within the political context of this turbulent period.

31 The chronological and geographic distribution of this stele-type has been discussed in detail by Heinz (Reference Heinz1998, 117), who noted that flat-topped votive stelai are particularly common at Atrax, Elateia, Gonnoi and Larisa.

32 These measurements exclude the root. If the root is included, the smallest stele stands 30 cm tall, the largest 52.5 cm.

33 According to Heinz (Reference Heinz1998, 117), Thessalian flat-topped votive stelai usually measure between 23 cm and 43 cm in height.

34 For the dimensions of Thessalian flat-topped votive stelai in general and for individual large examples from Atrax, Elateia and Gonnoi, see Heinz Reference Heinz1998, 117, 199, 233, 363–4.

35 Nearby marble extraction sites, which were active during the Hellenistic period, include the quarries at Gonnoi (Karagiorgou Reference Karagiorgou2001, 174–5; Melfos Reference Melfos2004, 1169–70; Kokkorou-Alevra et al. Reference Kokkorou-Alevra, Poupaki, Eustathopoulos and Chatzikonstantinou2014, 76), in the Tempe valley (Karagiorgou Reference Karagiorgou2001, 171–2; Melfos et al. Reference Melfos, Voudouris, Papadopoulou, Sdrolia and Helly2010, 850–1; Kokkorou-Alevra et al. Reference Kokkorou-Alevra, Poupaki, Eustathopoulos and Chatzikonstantinou2014, 77) and at Kastri (Papageorgakis Reference Papageorgakis1963, 566–8; Gast, German and Eilert Reference Gast, German, Eilert and Helly1979, 53; Higgins and Higgins Reference Higgins and Higgins1996, 92; Karagiorgou Reference Karagiorgou2001, 172; Melfos, Vavelidis and Theodorikas Reference Melfos, Vavelidis, Theodorikas, Kungolos, Liakopoulos, Korfiatis, Koutsospyros, Katsifarakis and Demetracopoulos2002, 1538–9; Kokkorou-Alevra et al. Reference Kokkorou-Alevra, Poupaki, Eustathopoulos and Chatzikonstantinou2014, 75). During the Roman and Byzantine periods, marble was also extracted at Ampelakia (Sythiakaki Reference Sythiakaki1999; Kokkorou-Alevra et al. Reference Kokkorou-Alevra, Poupaki, Eustathopoulos and Chatzikonstantinou2014, 75–6) and at Chrapes (Arvanitopoulos Reference Arvanitopoulos1911, 292; Melfos Reference Melfos2004, 1166–9; Sdrolia Reference Sdrolia2008, 714; Reference Sdrolia and Mazarakis Ainian2012, 585–6; Kokkorou-Alevra et al. Reference Kokkorou-Alevra, Poupaki, Eustathopoulos and Chatzikonstantinou2014, 78).

36 The weight of the largest stele (McDevitt 647) was calculated by multiplying its estimated volume (c. 0.025 m3) by the average density of marble (2.71 g/cm3 [Siegesmund and Dürrast Reference Siegesmund, Dürrast, Siegesmund and Snethlage2011, 103]). For the average load-carrying capacity of human porterage, see Bevan Reference Bevan, Dunn and Mahony2013, 6; for the load-carrying capacity of pack-animals, see Vigneron Reference Vigneron1968, 135; Cotterell Reference Cotterell1990, 194; Roth Reference Roth1999, 205–7; Adams Reference Adams2007, 77–81; Raepsaet Reference Raepsaet and Oleson2010, 589; Bevan Reference Bevan, Dunn and Mahony2013, 6; Mitchell Reference Mitchell2018, 24.

37 For the worship of the Nymphs at Greek cave-sanctuaries, see for example Sporn Reference Sporn, Frevel and von Hesberg2007, 56; Ustinova Reference Ustinova2009, 55; Sporn Reference Sporn, Mavridis and Jensen2013, 203. At the Zar Trypa cave, the fragmentary dedication McDevitt 648 only preserves the initial word Πάνσας, but in view of the site's epigraphic assemblage, the reconstruction Πάνσας [νύνφας (already suggested by Wace and Thompson Reference Wace and Thompson1909, 246) seems likely. The Nymphs were frequently associated with mountainous environments (Langdon Reference Langdon2000, 466–7; Larson Reference Larson2001, 8–9; Reference Larson and Ogden2007, 62); for a possible connection between Mount Ossa and the Nymphs in Classical literary sources, see the much-disputed passage Euripides, Electra 445–8.

38 Wace and Thompson (Reference Wace and Thompson1909, 245) recorded the first line of this inscription as ΟΡΕΙ ---- and suggested a restoration as Ὀρει[άσιν]. Besides Ὀρει[άσιν], Ὀρεί[αις νύμφαις or Ὀρεί[αις νύνφαις may also be possible, although a drawing in Wace's notes could indicate that the stone lacked the space for the necessary 14 letters in its first line (GBR/1058/WAC/1/5: 53r). In theory, another possible restoration would be Ὀρεί[αι Μητρί]. A Thessalian cult of the Mother of the Gods as Μήτηρ ὀρεία is attested through a late 4th- or early 3rd-century BC inscribed gold lamella from a cremation burial in Pherai (SEG 55.612; discussed in detail by Parker and Stamatopoulou Reference Parker and Stamatopoulou2004, 14–15), but its funerary context is clearly very different to the cave-sanctuary at Zar Trypa. A restoration of McDevitt 646 as Ὀρεί[αι Μητρί] is therefore unlikely. For the term Ὀρειάδες in 2nd-century BC literary sources, see for example Bion 1.19; for the related term ὀρεστίας, see Homer, Iliad 6.420; Homeric Hymns, Hymn to Pan 19.

39 For a range of common associations with the term ὄρος in Classical and Hellenistic Greece (e.g. as extra-urban spaces ‘beyond’, as areas of specific resource managements, or as meeting places between gods and mortals), see for example Buxton Reference Buxton1992, 2–6; Larson Reference Larson2001, 9; Reference Larson and Ogden2007, 62.

40 According to the drawing in Wace's notebook (GBR/1058/WAC/1/5: 52v) and the description published by Wace and Thompson (Reference Wace and Thompson1909, 244), the second line of this inscription reads ΧΟΣ ΚΑΙ ΟΙ Π[, restored by the editors as -χος καὶ οἱ π̣[αῖδες. Alternatively, a restoration as -χος καὶ οἱ π̣[ρουροί could also be considered. Several 3rd-, 2nd- and 1st-century BC dedications by an individual ἀρχίφρουρος and a group of φρουροί are known from Gonnoi and Elateia (see for example Heinz Reference Heinz1998, 20–1; Baker Reference Baker2001, 193; Mili Reference Mili2011, 169–70; Helly Reference Helly2013, 106–8; Mili Reference Mili2015, 106; Kravaritou Reference Kravaritou, Kalaitzi, Paschidis, Antonetti and Guimier-Sorbets2018, 383), with the spelling προυροί attested by Gonnoi 147 (3rd-century BC). Yet these dedications usually refer to the φρουροί as σύμφρουροι or σύνφρουροι, and no example preserves the name of an individual or a term ending in -χος immediately before the phrase καὶ οἱ φρουροί or καὶ οἱ προυροί. For McDevitt 643, the restoration καὶ οἱ π̣[αῖδες therefore seems more likely.

41 According to Wace and Thompson (Reference Wace and Thompson1909, 245) and the notes in GBR/1058/WAC/1/5: 53r, the surviving letters of the inscription McDevitt 645 read ΛΕΩΙ[…]ΤΙΓΟ[|ΝΥΜΦΑΙΣ ΕΥΞΑ[ and could represent either a dedication of two individuals (Λέων̣, [Ἀν]τίγο[νος ταῖς] | νύμφαις εὐξά̣[μενοι]) or of a single person (Λέων̣ [Ἀν]τιγό[νου ταῖς] | νύμφαις εὐξά̣[μενος]). On Thessalian votive inscriptions, the names of several dedicants usually only appear without a connecting καί in longer lists (see for example Gonnoi 148 [3rd century BC], Gonnoi 150 [2nd century BC] or SEG 23.444 [1st century BC]). Although rare exceptions to this general rule do exist (e.g. I.Atrax 65 [3rd or 2nd century BC] and IG 9(2).303 [2nd century BC]), the latter reading is therefore more likely.

42 McDevitt 650 was probably also dedicated by a male individual, but the name is not preserved. McDevitt 644 is perhaps the least intelligible of the inscriptions from the Zar Trypa cave: Wace and Thompson (Reference Wace and Thompson1909, 245) originally read .. ΡΥ̣ΧΑΔ̣Ε̣ΥΝΤΙΣ, but amended this to ///ΙΥ̣ΡΙΧΑ . Σ̣ΥΝΤΙΣ //////// FΙΑΝΥΝΦΑΙΣ after Arvanitopoulos’ discovery of two addition fragments (Wace and Thompson Reference Wace and Thompson1909, 247). On this basis, they proposed a restoration as Π̣υριχα σὺν Τισ[ικρατ]είᾳ νύνφαις or Π̣υρίχα[ς] σὺν Τισ[ικρατ]είᾳ νύνφαις. However, as the connection of two names with the preposition σύν is unusual in Thessalian votive inscriptions (Heinz Reference Heinz1998, 315), a restoration of a name and a patronym might be preferable. Even assuming that the inscription was dedicated by two individuals, Wace and Thompson's restoration is not without problems. Firstly, the name Τισικράτης (and the related patronym Τισικρατεία) is currently unattested, which could suggest an alternative restoration as Τισ[αμεν]είᾳ (for an attestation of the name Τισαμενός at Philia, see SEG 26.688, 12 [2nd century BC; LGPN iiib.18089]). Secondly, the name Πυρίχας or Πυρρίχας also has no parallels, even though the female form Πυρρίχα is attested at Gonnoi (Gonnoi 185 [2nd century BC; LGPN iiib.16892]) and at Larisa (Arvanitopoulos Reference Arvanitopoulos1910b, 367 no. 11 [3rd century BC; LGPN iiib.16893]).

43 Wace and Thompson Reference Wace and Thompson1909, 245–6; Heinz Reference Heinz1998, 317; Helly Reference Helly2013, 104. Bouchon and Helly (Reference Bouchon and Helly2016, 132) suggested an alternative restoration as Μί[κκα.

44 For the rarity of this phenomenon outside lists of dedicants, see above.

45 IG 9(2).1227 (LGPN iiib.14503). Since this stele contains a list of names (presumably in the same format) it is reasonably certain that ‘Damostheneia’ functions as a patronym. For a more detailed discussion of this inscription, see below.

46 See for example I.Atrax 131 (3rd or 2nd century BC), SEG 51.734 (Hellenistic) and IG 9(2).577 (2nd century BC or later) (Heinz Reference Heinz1998, 414).

47 With space for c. nine letters between the break and the edge of the inscription, this restoration would be possible.

48 IG 9(2).1227 is attributed by O. Kern to Phalanna, possibly because of its former location in the museum of Tyrnavos (Wilhelm Reference Wilhelm1890, 316). However, three of the names included in IG 9(2).1227 also occur on inscriptions from Larisa (SEG 35.591 [late 4th or early 3rd century BC] and IG 9(2).571 [3rd century BC]). These prosopographic parallels not only suggest that IG 9(2).1227 belongs to the late 4th or early 3rd century BC, but also that the inscription was originally from Larisa and was transported to Phalanna at a later date (Tziafalias Reference Tziafalias1984, 219–20; Helly Reference Helly1988, 420; Kontogiannis Reference Kontogiannis2009, 44; Tziafalias and Santin Reference Tziafalias and Santin2013, 255). For the identification of the individuals attested in McDevitt 647 and IG 9(2).1227, see also Helly Reference Helly2013, 104; Bouchon and Helly Reference Bouchon and Helly2016, 132; for the interpretation of IG 9(2).1227 as a collective dedication, see for example Mili Reference Mili2015, 85. The name Μίκρα (without a patronym) is also attested in I.Atrax 198, a 4th-century BC funerary stele from Atrax.

49 On the use of the participle εὐξάμενος / εὐξαμένη in Thessalian votive inscriptions, see for example Heinz Reference Heinz1998, 14; Mili Reference Mili2015, 22.

50 This use of the preposition ὑπέρ is, for example, attested in Thessaly through the inscription IG 9(2).1221 (2nd century BC), which was made for the brother of the dedicant and clearly refers to an existing family member. For the different uses of ὑπέρ in Greek dedications, see also Jim Reference Jim2014.

51 The Epidaurian inscription IG 4[2].121 (4th century BC) provides a clear example of this use of ὑπέρ. On the connection between cults of the Nymphs and various events in the female life-cycle, see for example Larson Reference Larson2001, 100–20; Reference Larson and Ogden2007, 61; Sporn Reference Sporn, Frevel and von Hesberg2007, 59–60; Reference Sporn, Mavridis and Jensen2013, 208. Enpedokleia's dedication πὲρ γενεᾶς has also been interpreted as an offering made after a successful birth (see for example Moustaka Reference Moustaka1983, 47; Larson Reference Larson2001, 238; Rakatsakis and Tziafalias Reference Rakatsakis and Tziafalias2004, 92–3; Sporn Reference Sporn, Frevel and von Hesberg2007, 60; Reference Sporn, Mavridis and Jensen2013, 208).

52 It would be tempting to connect the absence of ethnics among the surviving inscriptions to this ‘personal’ nature of religious practices at the Zar Trypa cave, but in general Thessalian votive inscriptions only rarely include any information about the dedicants’ origins (Heinz Reference Heinz1998, 16).

53 For the concept of ‘micro level’ (within a structure), ‘semi-micro level’ (within a site) and ‘macro level’ (between sites) resolutions in spatial archaeology, see Clarke Reference Clarke and Clarke1977, 11–17, for the use of this concept in the study of religious sites, see Raja and Rüpke Reference Raja, Rüpke, Raja and Rüpke2015, 5.

54 On the importance of the natural ambience of caves as a formative background for religious experiences, see for example Papalexandrou Reference Papalexandrou, Katsarou and Nagel2020. At many Classical and Hellenistic sacred caves on the Greek mainland and the islands, dedications and other traces of ritual activity are found primarily in the area around the caves’ entrances (Sporn Reference Sporn, Haug and Müller2020, 172, 175–6), but at Zar Trypa the space in front of the cave is severely limited by the steep and rocky terrain. In addition, there are no visible cuttings, which would suggest that the site's stelai were originally not displayed outside the cave.

55 Ustinova Reference Ustinova2009, 52; Whitehouse Reference Whitehouse and Dowd2016, 34–5; Skeates Reference Skeates and Dowd2016, 48. The two Thessalian cave-sanctuaries with evidence for a cult of the Nymphs (at Zar Trypa and at Mount Karaplas) are strikingly different in access and layout. For the sensory experience of visiting the cave-sanctuary at Mount Karaplas, see Wagman Reference Wagman2016, 32–4.

56 Even literary and epigraphic testimonies are not of universal significance. For example, Seneca (Epistulae 4.41.3) famously commented on the overwhelming effect of a cave's numinosity, but this reaction is specific to the writer, or even to the writer entering particular types of caves.

57 For previous studies on the sensory experiences of entering particular caves, see for example Whitehouse Reference Whitehouse and Dowd2016; Skeates Reference Skeates and Dowd2016. For the neuropsychological effects of entering a cave environment (discussed in more detail below), see Ustinova Reference Ustinova2009, 32–41.

58 On the effects of different levels of ‘sensory deprivation’, especially with regards to cave settings, see for example Ustinova Reference Ustinova2009, 32–41; Dowd Reference Dowd2015, 7–9; Reference Dowd, Skeates and Day2019, 199–200 (with extensive references to previous studies).

59 On the phenomenon of nympholepsy in ancient Greek religion, see for example Connor Reference Connor1988; Larson Reference Larson2001, 13–18; Pache Reference Pache2011. For possible connections between this phenomenon and ‘cave experiences’, see Ustinova Reference Ustinova2009, 61–5.

60 The cave-sanctuary at Mount Karaplas near Pharsalos (including its finds and inscriptions) is discussed in detail by Wagman (Reference Wagman2016). The name Pantalkes appears in two rock-cut inscriptions at the cave, one dating to the first half of the 5th century BC (SEG 1.247; I.Vallée Enipeus 72) and the other dating to the 4th or early 3rd century BC (SEG 1.248; I.Vallée Enipeus 73). For the date of these inscriptions, see Wagman Reference Wagman2016, 57, 66. While some scholars have suggested that both inscriptions date to Pantalkes’ lifetime (for example Larson Reference Larson2001, 18; Ustinova Reference Ustinova2018, 258), Wagman (Reference Wagman2016, 85–93) argues that the latter text was inscribed after Pantalkes’ death and therefore provides evidence for a constructed rather than a real figure. Nonetheless, the inscription suggests that the phenomenon of nympholepsy was known in 4th- or early 3rd-century BC Thessaly.

61 As argued above, the find assemblage at the Zar Trypa cave cannot be explained satisfactorily as an accumulation of votives dedicated by visitors of low socio-economic status (e.g. passing shepherds). Since there is little evidence that routes across Mount Ossa were in regular use as part of a larger network of overland travel, this study focuses on purposeful journeys to the cave, rather than the ‘opportunistic’ dedication of objects while travelling between different sites.

62 For literary testimonies and archaeological remains of ancient routes across Mount Ossa, see for example Stählin Reference Stählin1924, 45; Nikonanos Reference Nikonanos1973, 48; Avramea Reference Avramea1974, 80–3; Koder and Hild Reference Koder and Hild1976, 91; Decourt and Mottas Reference Decourt and Mottas1997, 343; Sdrolia Reference Sdrolia and Mazarakis Ainian2006, 403–7; Pikoulas Reference Pikoulas, Giannopoulou and Kallini2016. However, most archaeological traces of pre-modern routes post-date the Hellenistic period.

63 Fachard and Pirisino Reference Fachard, Pirisino and Miles2015; McHugh Reference McHugh, Tankosić, Mavridis and Kosma2017; Seifried Reference Seifried, Tankosić, Mavridis and Kosma2017; McHugh Reference McHugh2019; Ludwig Reference Ludwig2020 offer some recent examples of the application of ‘least cost path analyses’ in the study of Classical and Hellenistic Greece.

64 For the relationship between specific functions and the resulting least cost paths, see for example Kantner Reference Kantner, White and Surface-Evans2012; Herzog Reference Herzog, Melero, Cano and Revelles2013; Reference Herzog2014; Seifried and Gardner Reference Seifried and Gardner2019.

65 Religiously motivated journeys seem to have been no exception. For example, Xenophon's Socrates mentions the possibility of walking from Athens to Olympia within five or six days (Xenophon, Memorabilia 3.13.5).

66 Leonardos Reference Leonardos1836, 160. The same path also features in the report of the 18th-century traveller J.J. Björnståhl (Reference Björnståhl1783, 211–12).

67 Tripcevich Reference Tripcevich2009; White Reference White2015. All cost-surfaces, least cost paths and viewsheds were calculated with ArcGIS 10.7.1 on the basis of the European Digital Elevation Model (EU-DEM) (resolution 25 m) (available online <https://land.copernicus.eu/imagery-in-situ/eu-dem/eu-dem-v1.1> accessed May 2021).

68 Márquez-Pérez, Vallejo-Villalta and Álvarez-Francoso Reference Márquez-Pérez, Vallejo-Villalta and Álvarez-Francoso2017. Again, the function was implemented to represent isotropic rather than anisotropic movement.

69 Minetti et al. Reference Minetti, Moia, Roi, Susta and Ferretti2002. This method has previously been used to investigate routes of movement and cost surfaces in Attica and Euboea (see for example Knodell Reference Knodell2013; Fachard and Pirisino Reference Fachard, Pirisino and Miles2015; Fachard Reference Fachard, Bintliff and Rutter2017; Knodell Reference Knodell, Tankosić, Mavridis and Kosma2017; Fachard and Knodell Reference Fachard, Knodell, Papadimitriou, Wright, Fachard, Polychronakou-Sgouritsa and Andrikou2020). Following the example of Knodell (Reference Knodell, Tankosić, Mavridis and Kosma2017, 198), values of walking uphill and downhill were added together in order to simulate bidirectional cost paths.

70 The divergence in the eastern part of the route may well be a result of the resolution of the DEM (25 m), but thus far a more detailed DEM is not freely available for the region.

71 Matsouka et al. Reference Matsouka, Adamakopoulos, Garvaris, Machmoudies, Roussos, Kalyvas and Ashmore2007. Björnståhl (Reference Björnståhl1783, 212) also gave the travel time between Ampelakia and Spilia as six hours, although it is not clear whether he travelled on foot or horseback.

72 For a comparison of estimated travelling speeds by different means of transport, see for example Bevan Reference Bevan, Dunn and Mahony2013, 6.

73 This situation mirrors the location of many mountaintop sanctuaries, which are often not clearly associated with a particular city-state (Langdon Reference Langdon2000, 462).

74 Since the modified ‘Tobler's Hiking Function’ was implemented in this study to represent isotropic rather than anisotropic movement, the resulting ‘walking distances’ provide an average figure that does not distinguish between uphill and downhill travel, but nevertheless gives estimates for ‘round-trips’ to and from the cave.

75 Bevan Reference Bevan, Dunn and Mahony2013, 6, who also provides a similar estimate (2.3–3 km/h) for a human porter carrying a load of 30–60 kg.

76 As the animal would only carry the monument for half of the journey, the travel time was estimated at 1.5 times the journey without a pack-animal. Testimonies that could shed light on the practicalities of setting up private votive stelai are rare. Since the stelai found at the Zar Trypa cave were worked with roots, their installation in rock-cut sockets or stone bases may have required the involvement of specialised craftsmen, but it is unclear if the dedicants themselves would have been present at the cave at the same time. Previous scholars have drawn on the inscription IG 1[3].386.165–7 (408/7 BC) as evidence for the role of specialised craftsmen in the setting up (ἐ[λάσ]αντι) of stelai (e.g. Berti Reference Berti2013, 22; Hochscheid Reference Hochscheid, Stewart, Harris and Lewis2020, 218), but according to the more recent edition IEleusis 52.A.III.44–46, the inscription may instead refer to the painting of a stele in encaustic technique (ἐ[γκέ]αντι).

77 These calculations are based on the modern daylight hours at Larisa (available online <https://sunsetsunrisetime.com/sun/larissa> accessed May 2021).

78 Although it is difficult to judge how the ‘effort’ of walking to the Zar Trypa cave would have compared to the everyday activities of the cave's visitors in antiquity, it is worth noting that Björnståhl (Reference Björnståhl1783, 211) stressed the challenging, dangerous and exhausting nature of travelling on Mount Ossa's upper slopes.

79 This figure is taken from the WorldClim version 2.1 climate data (available online <www.worldclim.org/data/worldclim21.html> accessed May 2021), which is based on observations between AD 1970 and 2000. For the WorldClim version 2.1 climate data, see Fick and Hijmans Reference Fick and Hijmans2017. The individual monthly temperature averages at the Zar Trypa cave and at Gonnoi differ by 3.2–6.3 °C, with the most marked differences in April, May and June. A 3rd-century BC literary reference to the sanctuary of Zeus Aktaios (probably Zeus Akraios) and the Cave of Chiron on nearby Mount Pelion may provide an interesting parallel for the role of changing temperatures in ‘religious experience’. According to Herakleides, a group of distinguished citizens was selected each summer to visit the sanctuary, clad in thick new fleeces due to the cold on the mountain (FGrHist II, fr. 60.8, p. 262 = Brill's New Jacoby [henceforth BNJ] 369A F 2). For a discussion of this passage, see for example Mili Reference Mili2015, 203; Wiznura and Williamson Reference Wiznura and Williamson2020, 91–2; Buxton Reference Buxton1992, 10–11; and Aston Reference Aston2006, 355–7; Reference Aston2009, 86, who suggest that the wearing of new fleeces was of symbolic rather than of practical significance.

80 Instead of distinguishing agriculturally ‘productive’ and ‘unproductive’ zones, it is more useful to think of the mountainous landscapes of Classical and Hellenistic Greece as a patchwork of qualitatively different ‘niches’ that could be exploited through specific resource management strategies, including (but not limited to) various forms of arable cultivation, arboriculture and pastoralism. For a previous study of ‘resource packages’ in a Greek mountain environment, see for example Nixon and Moody Reference Nixon, Moody, Rupp and Tomlinson2017; for a brief discussion of the resources of modern Mount Ossa, see above.

81 For a range of common associations with the term ὄρος, see above.

82 On the visual impact of and the travel to ancient mountaintop sanctuaries, see for example Nixon Reference Nixon, D'Agata and Van de Moortel2009; Collar Reference Collar, Collar and Kristensen2020, 40–1; Susmann Reference Susmann2020; Reference Susmann2021; Wiznura and Williamson Reference Wiznura and Williamson2020. The abovementioned fragment of Herakleides, describing how a group of distinguished citizens was selected each summer in the presence of a priest to visit the sanctuary of Zeus Aktaios (probably Zeus Akraios) and the Cave of Chiron on Mount Pelion (FGrHist II, fr. 60.8, p. 262 = BNJ 369A F 2), provides an interesting Thessalian example of a procession to a mountaintop sanctuary. Judging, however, by Herakleides’ description, this procession may have been a civic rite, contrasting with the strongly personal character of the cult of the Nymphs at Zar Trypa.

84 For walking in sacred travel as an ‘economic sacrifice’, see for example Collar Reference Collar, Collar and Kristensen2020, 34; for a broader discussion of the role of ‘energy expenditure’ in Greek religion, see Naerebout Reference Naerebout2004. In this context, it is interesting to note that the testimonies referring to two of the best-known nympholepts of Classical antiquity – the abovementioned Pantalkes and the Theran Archedamos at the Vari cave in Attica – stress the importance of physical labour in the service of the Nymphs. In the case of Pantalkes, the 4th- or 3rd-century BC inscription highlights that he ‘toiled with his own hands’ (ἐξεπονήσατο χερσσίν; SEG 1.248, l. 11; I.Vallée Enipeus 73, l. 11), while Archedamos depicted himself holding stone-working tools (see for example Weller Reference Weller1903, 271–3).

85 In addition to this ‘economic’ connection between the dedicated object and the journey, the act of placing an object at the cave may have invoked a recollection of the dedicant's journey together with the object. This idea was, for example, explored by Volioti (Reference Volioti2011, 274–5) in her study of the Korykian Cave at Delphi.

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Figure 0

Fig. 1. The dedication of Mikra, daughter of Damosthenes (© Hellenic Ministry of Culture and Sports / Ephorate of Antiquities of Larisa / Diachronic Museum of Larisa; photo by Peter Haarer).

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Fig. 2. The geography of eastern Thessaly: the location of the Zar Trypa cave.

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Fig. 3. The Psila Dendra ridge from the south, with the location of the Zar Trypa cave.

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Fig. 4. The view from the entrance of the Zar Trypa cave to the south toward the summit of Mount Ossa (March 2019).

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Fig. 5. Classical and Hellenistic sites on and around Mount Ossa.

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Fig. 6. The narrow ‘entrance-passage’ of the Zar Trypa cave from the east (© Hellenic Ministry of Culture and Sports / Ephorate for Palaeoanthropology and Speleology; photo by the author).

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Fig. 7. The upper chamber of the Zar Trypa cave, looking towards the entrance of the lower chamber (© Hellenic Ministry of Culture and Sports / Ephorate for Palaeoanthropology and Speleology; photo by the author).

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Fig. 8. The flowstone deposits in the lower chamber of the Zar Trypa cave (© Hellenic Ministry of Culture and Sports / Ephorate for Palaeoanthropology and Speleology; photo by the author).

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Fig. 9. The uninscribed bases in the lower chamber of the Zar Trypa cave (© Hellenic Ministry of Culture and Sports / Ephorate for Palaeoanthropology and Speleology; photo by the author).

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Fig. 10. The sketch-plan from A.J.B. Wace's notebook (GBR/1058/WAC/1/5: 54r), showing the location of a base in the upper chamber (by permission of the Master and Fellows of Pembroke College, Cambridge).

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Fig. 11. A drawing of the inscription McDevitt 643 from A.J.B. Wace's notebook (GBR/1058/WAC/1/5: 52v; by permission of the Master and Fellows of Pembroke College, Cambridge).

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Fig. 12. The flowstone deposits in the upper chamber of the Zar Trypa cave (© Hellenic Ministry of Culture and Sports / Ephorate for Palaeoanthropology and Speleology; photo by the author).

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Fig. 13. Comparing the traditional route between Ampelakia and Spilia with the results of four different least cost path analyses: ‘Tobler's Hiking Function’ (after Tripcevich 2009 and White 2015), the modified ‘Tobler's Hiking Function’ (after Márquez-Pérez, Vallejo-Villalta and Álvarez-Francoso 2017) and the energy cost function (after Minetti et al. 2002).

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Fig. 14. The traditional route between Ampelakia and Spilia: least cost path and ‘walking distance’.

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Fig. 15. The urban centres of Mount Ossa: cost boundaries and walking distances.

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Fig. 16. The Zar Trypa cave: walking distances and least cost paths.

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Table 1. A comparison of the total estimated travel times (between the Zar Trypa cave and three ancient settlements) and the daylight hours at four different times of the year.

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Fig. 17. Mount Ossa from the west. This image, taken in March 2019, demonstrates the difference in seasonal vegetation patterns between the summit, the slopes and the plain.

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Fig. 18. The Zar Trypa cave: viewsheds and least cost paths.

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Fig. 19. The Zar Trypa cave and the summit of Mount Ossa: viewsheds and least cost paths.