Alta Via 9.

Day 01. August 30.  Cyprianerhof by Tiers to Graslietenhutte (Rifugio Bergamo). 4 hours. 8 km. 1100 up. 100m down. I managed to get two trains, one from Venice Mestre to Verona P.N. and soon afterwards from Verona P.N. to Bolzano. I could not fault the Italian Railways which must be the best in Europe. Once in Bolzano I took the bus number 185 to Tiers which took about 40 minutes. The whole journey was very efficient and only took 4.5 hours in all. The bus stopped at the Cyprianerhof, a vast wooden chalet, which was also the end of the bus route. The whole journey took me from the coast and  across the Venetian Plain, then into the foothills of the Dolomites and finally up a side valley to the very base of the mountains. And what mountains they were as Zyprian was right at the base of them. After the bus dropped me off I got myself ready and repacked a few things and then set off at about 1130. 

Initially I had to walk back down the road for a few hundred meters and then veered north continuing down a small road past a few houses and a small hydroelectric plant to reach the incredibly clear Tschaminbach stream. The water was almost invisible as it flowed over the very white gravel and boulders of the streambed. I followed the stream up, crossing it a few times as it went into a deep slot. It was soon a gorge and very dry and arid in the depths of it despite the stream. The only trees which could grow here were pines and they looked stocky, stunted specimens. After about half an hour I reached the car park where the road which came up to my east ended.  There was a small rustic restaurant here and after this the path started to climb up the gorge-like valley.

It climbed quite steeply through the arid pine forest, zig zagging frequently. Far below I could see the gleaming white river bed. On the south side of the valley the forest rose in a continuous steep wooded slope but on the north side it clung to the ledges and spurs of the vast cliff which stretched unbroken for a few kilometers. It was about 500 meters high and looked very impressive. It was riven with a few deep ravines where flood water had carved deep slots which were impenetrable to ordinary mortals. After half an hour or so on this path it met a track where the valley floor leveled off a bit and the gradient eased. 

The track followed the valley floor, which had risen up from the gorge below to this higher level. Here the valley was more open with more soil so the hardy pine trees gave way to firs or spruce which clad the hillside. It was a lovely walk along the track climbing gently and then crossing the stream over to the north side above a couple of springs with the most refreshing clear waters. There was a small meadow where alpine cows were congregating in the sun to chew cud, flicking their tails and shaking their heads constantly to deter the flies. It was nice to hear the deep chime of the cow bells again. A little beyond this meadow was another with a beautiful old chalet in it. There were no cows here but there were many people who had come up for a picnic on the short green grass. This meadow was called Schaferter Lager. It was only now the trees were not crowding me did I realize what a fantastically impressive landscape I was walking into. There were the spires, towers and cliff faces one associates with the Dolomites everywhere, and they were huge. I had been going for an hour and a half now. 

After these two meadows the track was enveloped by the forest again but I frequently got views of the jagged cirque I was walking into. The track climbed gently past a chapel hidden in the woods and then a path left the track. It was the path I had to follow and it rose steeply climbing through the trees on the northside of the Tschamintal valley. The path rose quite relentlessly and I had to follow it up, my legs tiring quickly. There were no flowers except for the arching fronds of the blue Willow Gentian, Gentiana asclepiadea, which seemed to thrive in the dappled light of the forest floor. Soon the climb eased off as it went under spires and a cliff into a side valley and crossed it. Again this valley floor was full of white boulders, stones and gravel, so blindingly bright it was like snow. The clouds had now started to build as they often do in the afternoons in the Dolomites, but thunder and lightning did not look likely. 

Once over this stream the path climbed again up the side of a spur and into the heart of the most impressive cluster of spires and towers. I soon got a great view looking back to the Tschamintal valley far below to the west which I had just walked up. Once past this wooded spur, and at about 2000 meters the last of the trees disappeared and I traversed a steep grassy hillside to the south of the Grasleitenspitzen mountain. It was one of the many spires. This grassy path rose quite steeply, with the odd zig-zag to a small pass, which was just a notch in a side spur really. Here I could see the Grasleitenhutte just on the other side. It was in a shaded bowl surrounded by astounding mountains which were shading it. It was a quick saunter to get there. I was tired now after the relentless climb and was glad to sit down. 

The hut warden gave me a room in the dormitory. As I was the first I took the bed right under the window so I could make sure it stayed open all night. There would be another 6 in the dormitory but there were perhaps 15 beds in all and the room was big, so we would not all be squashed together and sleep like piglets. I had a shower and then went down to write the blog in the wonderful characterful dining room of the old mountain lodge which had about 10 large tables in its wood lined interior. I had finished the blog by 1800 but could not upload it. It meant I was cleared to socialize in the evening and I had already noticed a couple of English sounding names in the bookings. However the English did not turn up at the hut and I was seated at a table with two very bright young German girls and 3 Dutch. We all spoke English as the common language but the conversation did not flow that freely and it was occasionally awkward. The food was perfunctory and not what I hoped for, namely watery tomato soup, a small helping of goulash and polenta and a ramekin of yogurt with a berry compote. It was quite miserly of the hut to serve it as we were charged 40 euros for it as part of the half board package. After the Dutch left for bed I chatted with the German girls for half an hour and then went up to the dormitory at 2130 and was asleep soon after. It had been a long day but it was great to finally be on the trail with all the travel over and it was a spectacular first day. I was now in the heart of the first massif the AV9 traverses and this massif was the Kessel Kogel and Rosengarten Spitze Massif.

Day 02. August 31. Graslietenhutte (Rifugio Bergamo) to Sellajoch (Passo Sella). 7 hours. 16 km. 910 up. 850m down. Despite being near the window I did not sleep that well in the large 15 bed dormitory. There were only 7 beds taken altogether but an older German couple with no hut etiquette first switched on the light at 2200 to organize themselves and then picked the beds right beside me despite free beds with no neighbours. It was the same as being a lonely car in an empty car park and someone comes and parks in the bay beside you so you can barely open the door.  I repaid the favour in the morning at 0630 by switching the light on as everyone else was getting up. Breakfast was a very perfunctory bread and jam. I had about 10 slices washed down by watery coffee. It was not the breakfast of Austrian huts where I seldom go hungry but rather parsimonious and poor value for money, like the supper the previous evening. The people running the huts generally try and make enough money in the 3 summer months to see them through the year and all the catering (but not the accommodation) profits go into their pocket. Some people with the concession on the huts are very generous, usually in Austria, while others are mean and greedy. Grasleitenhutte was more towards the latter but I have been in worse. 

I said goodbye to the two bright German girls and the 3 Dutch and then set off just after 0800. The sun was nowhere near the lodge and I guess it would be a while before it cleared the cirque of peaks and warmed the building. Initially the hike continued east up the path towards the heart of the massif. There was a small section where there were some cables and these could have been useful if there was snow lying across the path but now in the late summer they were superfluous. After the cables the path entered the heart of the cirque as the valley opened up. This huge bowl was called Grasleitenkessel. It was a light beige in colour as were all the towers and spires around it. The floor of the bowl was filled with vast quantities of stones which had been washed down from the mountains and especially the gullies between the towers. In places you could see where a violent thunderstorm and Biblical rainfall, which are becoming more common in the Alps as global warming continues to impact, brought down huge quantities of stones ripping deep ravines in the previous alluvial fans. In places it has ripped away the old path which was not rebuilt and rerouted. 

There were a few paths leading out of this bowl. One to the south went up to a mountain lodge on the saddle, one to the east was a Via Ferrata scrambling route over a steep alpine notch in the ridge between towers and there was the one I was going to take to the north. It climbed steeply for about 400 meters up a very good path which was recently repaired to the Passo Malignon at 2604m. It took a good hour to climb it zig-zagging from side to side up the large gully, couloir really, full of beige stones. Towards the top there were a few cables up a rocky slap under the cliffs of a tower but these were not really essential, but would have been comforting in the wet. At the top of the pass I caught up with 4 lively German ladies who were doing the same walk as me for 4 days. In turn I was also overtaken by a large group of Germans who were part of a Sektion or walking/climbing club from Bavaria. I left them all resting at the top of the pass and continued almost level for another 500 meters to another pass which was quieter and I could take some aerial shots before the mist came in. I just managed it in time. 

From here it was a short rocky descent to the large Tierser Alpi Hutte. On all of the descent you had to look where you put your feet and not at the superb mountains and the green grassy alps below them as the path was badly eroded by a storm. The last part of the descent was quite steep and across mostly bare rock. It had been polished by thousands of gritty boot soles and in the wet would have been slippery. However it was also protected by a run of cable some 200 meters long which was elevated on iron posts drilled into the rock in a bannister fashion. At the bottom the cable spilled you on a large grassy alpine meadow where there were sheep grazing and across on the other side was the large mountain lodge. There was a service road up to it from the valley to the east. This road was closed to public vehicles but open to bikes and hikers. There was a stream coming up the steep gravel track. I must have counted over 100 bikes in the course of the next two hours on this track and all but one were electric. Most were making for the tables of the Tierser Alpi Hutte to have a meal before heading down again. I was also heading there to have an early lunch to supplement my paltry breakfast. It did not disappoint and I left after an hour stuffed full. 

The Alta Via 9 now went down the service track, losing some 300 meters as it dropped down the valley beneath the vast cliffs on the northside of the Kessel Kogel  and Rosengarten Spitze Massif. There were a few flowers here notable the light purple, or mauve, field gentians, some yellow monkshood and clusters of small thistles but by and large the summer flowers were over. Many left a fluffy head on top of a stem waiting to dry and be distributed by the wind. As the path leveled off and reached the bottom there was a large mixed herd of sheep and goats. Perhaps there were 500 animals in all and a few Maremma dogs to guard them. The herd was scouring the hillside, moving quickly and with their heads down snatching at short cropped grass that might have grown in the last few days since they were last here.

 

The route now started a lovely walk along a pastoral ridge which had valleys on each side and summer alps on each flank. I think the name for this ridge was Schneiden and it ran for about 4 kilometers in an east to west direction which was the way I was going. Generally the good undulating path contoured on the south side of the crest so I could get a good view down into the Duron valley below. Its green floor, covered in copse of conifers was cut by a white streak of the enlarged streambed which was overflowing with white stones carried down from the ravines in the huge cliffs on the other side. As I walked along I passed a few herds of cattle grazing on the tall summer grasses. There were also a few herds of sheep and even a field of the Valais black nose sheep. Among the sheep and cattle were the embedded Maremma dogs, most of whom were sleeping in dips and hollows. The whole time I was walking towards the square massif of Plattkofel, one of the smaller massifs of the Dolomites and adjoining the equally small Langkofel. However both massifs had peaks above 3000 meters. To the SE was a huge mountain with a large blue glacier across its north flank. It was unmistakably Marmolada, the queen of the Dolomites and the highest mountain in the region at 3348m. As I neared Plattkofel a rainshower passed through. The dusty path soon became a sticky clay like glue which covered the soles of my boots. As I reached the foot of Plattkofel the path suddenly became much busier and I soon reached Plattkofel Hutte, a new wooden building swarming with walkers. I think I had just joined a very popular walking route which was Plattkofel Round which went from the Sella Pass and around the base of Langkofel and Plattkofel before returning to Sella Pass. It took about 6 hours and on this last weekend of the summer it was heaving. 

I did not stop at the hut but continued east with the throng under the cliffs on the south side of the massif. We passed above a nice alm below where there were sheep and cows and a huge seating area. It was probably far more lucrative to farm hikers and tourists rather than livestock. It was an easy path but the recent rain shower left it slippery in places. I noticed that there were many young people sauntering along the path with small rucksacks so this Plattkofel Round must be popular with the young and not just the hardened older trekkers. Most flew past me chatting loudly in Italian or Tyrolese German. After 3 km we reached Rifugio Pertini where I hoped to stay. It was crowded and while I was inside enquiring about a bed the heavens opened in a heavy downpour. Everyone crammed inside and it was bedlam. They had just given away their last place in the dormitory. I felt gutted as I had to carry on but in retrospect it could not have been better. I sheltered under the awning for the shower to pass which it did after 10 minutes and then set off again towards the Sella Pass.

It was a quick hour along the same sticky wet path which was called the Fredrich August Weg after a royal visit over a century ago. After half an hour I passed the Friedrich August Hutte. It was very salubrious and no place for a hiker but more for wealthy couples to take the mountain air, do day hikes and enjoy gourmet food. I passed by and rounded a spur to reach the long smooth easy grassy descent to the Sella Pass. The descent was down a ski piste which was a hay meadow in the summer. I passed another salubrious hotel and enquired inside as everything might be full further on this last weekend of summer. However it was full but they pointed me to the Rifugio Carlo Valentini. It was a dull white 3 story building in a small grassy gully. It did not look cozy or inviting but I was now concerned everything was full. I reached it in 10 minutes and went in. 

The staff were not unfriendly but lacked charisma. However they had a room and a good dinner menu and the prices were very reasonable. This is the only negative thing I could say about it. The room was wonderful with an en suite bathroom. It had a great view, a desk and plenty of charging points and drying areas. I had a great shower, washed clothes and then went down into the dinning room to type the blog at 1730. I had nearly finished by the time dinner was served. I do not have a very refined palette, however I can recognize great food and the Rifugio Valentini served a stupendous all inclusive 4 course meal which was quite unexpected. I was generous with my praise and this seemed to bring some smiles to the staff. To think I could have been squashed into a dormitory at Rifugio Pertini and served half portions of army catering for the same price as the wonderful Rifugio Valentini.  

Day 03. 01 September.  Sellajoch (Passo Sella) to Franz Kostner Hutte. 7.5 hours. 13 km. 1340 up. 1020m down. I slept very well and was refreshed and clean for the 0730 breakfast. It was a very good buffet with a large selection of dishes and juices. Rifugio Valentini has been very good to me. I left at 0830 and walked up the road for 5 minutes when I reached a view to the north. Just below was the large Sella Pass Hotel and then green alps rolling down the hillside. To the north beyond these alps were a number of massifs including the immensely jagged Odle massif and the huge Puez massif. There was a path here that went up across the grassy hillside to the Sellajoch pass itself meaning I did not have to walk on the road which was already getting quite busy. After 20 minuters on the path and a short bit of road I finally arrived at the pass where there was a small hotel and gift shop. There were lots of performance sports cars and motorbikes on the road and perhaps already 100 cyclists on racing bikes as this was a famous pass in the Giro d’Italia bike race. I did not stop but left the road just after the hotel and climbed steeply on a small track away from the bustle. 

In front of me rose the most SW towers of the Sella Group, one of the largest of all the Dolomite massifs. It was a barely used path and very rocky and slow to follow as it climbed to the bottom of the huge cliffs, orange in the early sun, and then dropped down the slope under the cliffs on screefields until the first trees appeared. The path became a bit more pronounced in the trees and the going was softer underfoot as there was more soil and less rock. There was a via ferrata route which left the path here and went straight up the cliffs to one of the many summits and I could see a team slowly picking their way up. In the forest, which was mostly of stocky pines, I had to stop for over half an hour to wrestle with my Garmin GPS unit which had frozen and was not transmitting data. In the end I got the better of it but it was frustrating. A short time later I met the road again heading south down Sella Pass. There was a steady stream of road bikes coming up, very lightweight and with no batteries which I heard someone refer to as Biobikes as opposed to Ebikes. The Ebikes I came across yesterday were mostly ridden by plump youth in search of a restaurant, however these riders were usually lean strong men in search of eternal youth.  They were sharing the road with motorbikes and sports cars who were making an absolute racket as they powered up and down the road just a meter from the cyclists. As a pedestrian I felt uncomfortable for the 400 meters I was on the road so the cyclists must be used to it.  None too soon the road met another hairpin and here there was a path which left the road and returned to the tranquil forest. It continued to descend for another steep 15 minutes on slow ground weaving between outcrop and tree until it reached the valley floor. The whole time I was on this path and road the huge cliffs of the Sella Massif rose up above me some 500 meters. At the bottom I heard a loud crack and then a whoop for joy. I looked up and there was a BASE jumper in a squirrel suit who had just opened his parachute after jumping and then gliding from the summit of Pordoi across the valley which was some 1000 meters above. The vertical cliff the jumper flung himself off was well over 500 meters. This must have been a real adrenaline kick as opposed to the spoon-fed sugar-rush of the sports car drivers.

The path continued east but now started to climb into the heart of the massif up a steep steam valley. It was a slow rocky climb across outcrops and between trees until the latter started to thin around 2100 meters altitude. I was walking between two huge rock jaws which overlooked the valley and rose vertically up hundreds of meters on each side to the plateau above. It was a truly awesome sight and it did not diminish as I climbed further. To the west there was the occasional chink in the ramparts and steep shelves led up to almost inaccessible grass ledges which must be the domain of chamois and ibex. It took a good hour to climb up to an area where the valley leveled off at the Pian del Seila. It was the hanging valley of textbooks and was about a kilometer long before it forked into 3 branches all of which had a wall of rock blocking the route up them to a higher valley. However the one to the north had a route up this rock and it is where the path went. As I sauntered along the valley I came across the 4 German girls having lunch. I chatted and then carried on up a large ramp of scree until I reached the rock band. 

There was a route through the rock which had eroded into steps, with each layer of sedimentary deposits being one step. They were almost perfectly formed but quite steep and one would not have stopped rolling if one fell here. It was quite short and after 5 minutes I had reached the top and entered a lost higher valley which again was almost flat, called Val Largia. It was full of rock or bare slab with virtually no vegetation save some hardy species like cushion plants and saxifrage. Both were now hunkering down for the first snows having had their three months of glory when they were covered in flowers. From Val Largia the path went up the valley side to the east. It was marked by large stakes driven into cracks or supported by piles of stones. I followed the stakes up the mountainside to reach the top of the plateau. Looking back I could see I was now level with the top of the cliffs I have been looking up at all morning. Across the plateau was a slight dip, called Forcella d’Antersas at 2838m. It was here my very quiet path met the larger path going north to south across the plateau which the popular Alta Via 2 used. 

From the Forcella d’Antersas the route headed south. There were two options one went over a large knoll while the other skirted round the side of the steep knoll on a short via ferrata called Koburger Weg. I thought I would try the latter and it seemed easy at first. However once the cables started it got very steep and I thought it prudent to put the harness and the slings on and also my helmet. The slings attach to the cables and should I fall would hopefully stop me tumbling down the 50 degree cliff face. It was a short via ferrata and an easy one so it was good practice for what is coming later. After 15 minutes I was at the other end and just a short walk from the large Rifugio Boe. I stopped here for a roll and yogurt. The 4 German ladies arrived soon after having taken the normal route over the knoll which turned out to be much quicker. 

The skies were darkening now and I was keen to push on. I phoned the Franz Kostner Hutte and they confirmed they had a bed for me. However, first I had to climb Piz Boe, 3152m, and the highest point on the whole Sellagruppe massif. It was a popular day trip as there was a cable car nearby so there was a good, well worn path. It went up for 15 minutes across scree zig-zagging easily to reach a buttress. Here the path split. Those going up followed some cables around an airy ledge to reach the top of a gully while those coming down went down the gully. This avoided a bottleneck on the very popular tour. At the top of the gully both paths met again and I could clamber up across the rocks for another 15 minutes to reach the summit and the incredible small lodge perched on it. As I approached the lodge some large raindrops fell and there was some distant thunder. It unsettled me as I still had a fair way to go however they did have a bed in the cabin if I wanted to cancel my booking at Franz Kostner. I decided to continue as they was still some sunshine on the massifs to the east especially Pelmo and Sorapiss. 

I retraced my steps for 5 minutes and then set off on the Cresta Strenta. It was a sensational airy ridge walk along what was almost an arete. There was a long section of cables right on the crest of this arete and I was thankful for them as it was steep and exposed on each side. Far below to the west was the lodge I had my roll at and to the east was a huge depression in the mountain where a cave had collapsed leaving a depression which was now full of snow with a small lake in the middle of it. There was thunder about on the neighbouring massifs but none on this one and I felt just a little uneasy about clambering along the top of the arete with a hand on the conductive cables. However the whole time I was slowly losing height and becoming less prominent for lightning. After a long half hour I reached a small notch in the arete and thought I would go down the west side but no, I had to continue on the arete and even go over another peak before finally dropping down. By now the rain was near and thunder was above me in the clouds. 

The descent was quite slow from this peak as it was steep and rocky but I slowly picked my way down on a path called 672, which was painted on the rocks. At the bottom of the ridge I got to a rare flat section of path I could saunter along without looking too much. However the rain started here and I stopped to cover up. At the end of this flat section I reached the top of a vast steep bowl with the hut just below it. I could see the path curving round the lip of the bowl beneath cliffs before it dropped into the bowl on a steep rocky route where there was no path. I hoped there were cables here as the rock was now wet in the rain. The walk round the top of the bowl was spectacular as I slowly descended to the rocky section. However the rocky section was not pleasant but luckily it was protected by cables. I should have put my harness on but decided to chance it and slowly clambered down the rock. It took half an hour to scramble down as I had to check every foot placement. The cables were thin and old and I sometimes wondered if I slipped would I be able to grip them properly. With some relief I reached the scree and the bottom just as the rain stopped. I could then just follow the path down for another 15 minutes to reach the hut. I was warmly greeted by Manuel the hut warden. There were some fantastic views from here over to Marmolada just across the valley and also to the northeast where the Kreuzkogel massif was bathed in sunlight with a rainbow across it. 

I was given a room with 4 bunks but for an extra 6 euros I did not have to share it which suited me well.After sorting myself out I went downstairs to the small dining room. There were perhaps 12 of us staying in the hut and it was not crowded. I was seated at a table with two Germans, one of whom Willi spoke great English. He was also doing the Alta Via 9 but had just taken 2 days to get here rather than my 3. We ate together and Willi turned out to be a really interesting guy and a great conversationalist. We chatted for a couple of hours until it was time to go to bed. The trouble was I did not do the blog until I went up to my room and even then was not finished until 2330. However it had been a long and arduous day but full of interest and excitement. 

Day 04. 02 September.  Franz Kostner Hutte to Rifugio Pralongia. 3.5 hours. 9 km. 340 up. 760m down. I did not sleep well despite the long day and comfortable bed. I think it was the strong coffee I had to keep me awake while I wrote the blog last night. The view out of the bedroom window was absolutely stunning on the glorious morning without a cloud in the sky. I could see across the valley and directly onto the glaciated north face of Marmolda, the Queen of the Dolomites. The glaciers had retreated a little since I was there 14 years ago. It was on this north face that a great chunk of ice, a serac, fell off 2 years ago and crashed down on top of 13 climbers who were passing under it on their way to the summit, killing them all. I went down for breakfast and was the first, Willi and Ewald came shortly after me.  It was a great breakfast and the hosts were generous. I was finished by 0800 but had not packed. As I packed in the room I noticed some small clouds were already gathering in the otherwise pale blue sky. All the massifs to the east like Pelmo, Antelao, Sorapiss and Tofane were all a little lost in the haze as the sun was still very low and right behind them. 

I was ready to go at 0830 and so was Willi who also lingered a bit in the morning. We both set off at the same time and chatted as we left the lodge sitting on a small knoll with the backdrop of the sheer mountains behind it. I don’t know what caused the mountains to erode with so many vertical walls. There seemed to be no obvious geological explanation to it. I can only imagine they were perhaps nunataks which protruded through the ice sheet which must have once covered the entire alps. Willi and myself picked our way down the rocky stone path taking some care as it was occasionally steep and some of the rock was still wet in places. There were easy conversations as Willi’s English was so good, and we laughed at each other’s jokes without having to repeat or explain them.  The path veered a little to the north under a cable car and onto a ski piste which was grassy and easy to follow. It passed a lovely turquoise lake before reaching the bottom of the chairlift. It was working taking people up the mountain. There were already a few paragliders in the sky who must have taken the chairlift.  

At the bottom of this chairlift was another bringing people up from the village of Corvara to the north in the valley. We were not going this way but now veered SE and followed a wide open grass piste down to the Passo di Campolongo at 1860m. Towards the bottom of this piste was a gravel track and it went past some lovely old barns and meadows before reaching the main road at the pass. This road had quite a few athletic cyclists who looked determined as they pedalled up the slope but it hardly had any of the vulgar sports car and motorbike fraternity which plagued the Sella Pass yesterday. We followed the road down to the north for a couple of hundred metres past a hotel and restaurant and then found our path up the other side of the pass. 

Despite the increasing cloud the weather was wonderful with a perfect temperature and the gentlest of cooling breezes. It was just right for the climb through the spruce forest for half an hour to a small grassy saddle with a couple of well preserved old log haylofts on it. After all the rock of yesterday it was nice to wander in a softer landscape. We could see down to the valley and the village of Corvara, and it looked like it was from a calendar photo so perfect were the houses in this South Tyrolean landscape. From this meadow the path contoured through the trees passing the occasional spring which flowed into a hollowed out log trough. A little before we got to the small restaurant at La Marmotta I managed to phone Rifugio Valparola where I hoped to be staying to check where they had a bed free. However they did not and the lady said they were fully booked. It put me in a dilemma so we went into La Marmotta for a drink while I pondered what to do. 

If I went on, banking on a cancellation at Rifugio Valparola, and there were still no free beds, I would have to continue on to Rifugio Lagazuoi, a further 3 hours away and up another 600 metres. I would arrive late and be very tired. However if there was room at Rifugio Pralongia, in just an hour’s time, I could have a long afternoon washing and blogging and add the remaining two hours of today onto tomorrow, which was a short day anyway. With that settled in my mind we set off up the very steep track which went through meadows and under more chairlifts. We had to pause occasionally to get our breath back such was the incline. There were wonderful pastoral views which opened up each side of us. We were now walking through alps as we were connecting the Sellagruppe massif with the Lagazuoi and Tofana massif. There were the small trucks on the track collecting cut hay and taking it off to barns and lofts for winter fodder. When we reached the rifugio Pralongia we parted ways with a hearty handshake. Willi was going on and hoped to be in Refugio San Forca tomorrow night, a full day ahead of me. 

I went into the Rifugio Pralongia and was surprised at its modern style. The staff were busy selling lunches to the mountain bikers and day trippers but eventually I spoke to the owner. They had a room but it was a little more expensive than the mountain refuges. However I took it. The whole lodge was very modern and stylishly designed. The bedroom was huge, the bathroom was like a showroom,  and there was a balcony. I could see why it was above normal lodge prices. I had a shower and washed all my clothes and then wrote the blog and finished it by 1700 as the clothes were drying on the balcony. By this time the skies were very grey and rain seemed likely. There is a pattern in the Autumnal Dolomites of clear bright mornings which deteriorate into a late afternoon thunderstorm. It was quite luxurious to have the time to have a snooze on the bed with the balcony door open and rain imminent. 

After my snooze I went down to dinner and bumped into the 4 German ladies who had arrived from Refugio Piz Boe after a long day. As always they were in good spirits and they invited me to join them for dinner. It was very kind of them as they would have to speak English with me rather than chat freely and easily amongst themselves. However their English was great and the conversation flowed well and they were great company. The meal was excellent, gourmet quality again and although I did not have a large quantity I felt full after the Italian tradition of 4 courses. I left after the meal and went back to my room to do some digital errands and go to bed early.

Day 05. 03 September. Rifugio Pralongia to Rifugio Pomedes. 8 hours. 19 km. 1200 up. 1120m down. I felt really refreshed after the stay at Rifugio Pralongia. The breakfast was buffet style and it was superb. I ate with the 4 German ladies and lingered over coffee so I was rather late in leaving at 0830. It was a beautiful morning with not a cloud in the sky as it had been every morning on this trip so far. The rifugio was in the middle of a large alp and there were a few tracks on it to the various hay meadows and lofts. Like many large summer pastures there was a small chapel on the meadow which could seat about 15 people at a squeeze. It was really just a miniature church complete with a bell tower. I went past it and looked inside before continuing east. The track veered to the north of the ridge a bit but I kept on a path on the pastoral apex. It was a wonderful walk for almost two kilometres with the extensive meadows to the north peppered with log cabins and wooden haylofts, while to the south the hillside dropped more steeply to a lower distant plateau which was covered in log cabins and some trees. There was a gentle cooling breeze as the sun was already hot. This alone would have been idyllic but below the meadows on each side were valleys with pretty villages and beyond them rose huge massifs in every direction. Every massif was well known and there were about 7 of them in all. Marmolada to the south was the most impressive but the Sellagruppe behind me where I had been was also stunning with the morning light on it. To the east were the large Kreuzkufel and the adjacent Fanes and Lagazuoi massifs where I was going. They were very impressive and with a long rampart of continuous cliffs. I felt elated as I walked along this serene path. 

All too soon it came to an end and I had to climb up a hillside on a path which became increasingly rocky as it reached the ridge. On the other side of the ridge was a large bowl I had to walk round. The bowl was north facing but had plenty of copses of larch and pine on its grassy slopes. However it was perhaps too steep and rocky to have been developed into an alpine meadow. As I got to the far side of the bowl the path climbed slightly and left the trees for the open rocky mountainside. It was slow walking as the path went round and over many outcrops and you had to watch your step. To the north the valley dropped down to the road and I could already hear motorbikes on it as they roared up the hill. Trying to ignore it I went over the east lip of the bowl and then dropped down to the road itself at the Passo Valparola where there was a refuge. As I approached it the path got busier and busier with walkers of all types, some of whom had ventured too far from their cars and were struggling on the rocky terrain. When I arrived at the Refugio I saw it was more of a roadside restaurant and there were some 20 motorbikes parked outside with their riders drinking coffee. There was also a steady stream of dedicated lean men, and some women, on road bikes pedalling up the road to the pass. The cyclists who were on their way down were flying down at the same speed as the motorbikes. I had been going nearly 3 hours now so went in for a roll and a bottle of water before setting off again at midday. 

My route followed the road down to the north for a short distance to the first hairpin bend. It left the road here which carried snaking down to the valley in a series of bends. My route went on possibly on the old road as it had tarmac on it. However in the next half kilometre it had been destroyed by torrents of water and stones ripping down the hillside in Biblical deluges. Most of these looked quite recent. One of the ravines which had been created was quite large and the path had to climb 50 metres to find a way across it as it was wide and deep. After this there was a nice walk along a path as it contoured across the hillside in the pines and larches. It was still warm but it was clouding over quickly and most of the hillsides were now in the shade. Birds flew among the treetops and one, like a jay, had a distinctive swooping flight path. Soon the path reached the bottom of a wide grassy gully. It had a path zig-zagging up it in very short sections with a log on the lower side to stop the gravel getting washed away. It was lucky this gully had not succumbed to the same violent erosion as many others had, as the path was a godsend to get up onto the main ridge some 100 metres higher up. It took at least 15 minutes to climb and at the top I was well above the trees and onto the stone covered mountainside at a small pass called the Forcella de Salares

The path however was covered in small gravel type stones most of the time and it was easy to walk up between outcrops. I was now heading up a very wide open valley which was quite smooth. I was heading up to a Pass called Forcella Lagazuoi at 2575m. It was about 2 kilometres away and it took an hour to climb the 300 odd metres to reach it. The pass was located between two peaks in the Lagazuoi massif and it was for the most quiet with no one on it. The sky was now dark but the summits were still clear of clouds and I thought I felt some raindrops. Near the top of the climb the quiet path merged with another which was suddenly very busy. There was a constant stream of hikers going up to the pass some 15 minutes away and then on up to the southernmost of the peaks in this massif where there was the large Refugio Lagazuoi. Next to the lodge was the top of a chairlift which had been ferrying people up and down all day. The path I met was also the route of the very popular Alta Via 1 which even had guided groups on it. I followed the throng to the pass and then left them to continue up to the lodge, while I continued east on an empty track, virtually having it all to myself again. 

At the pass one of the most impressive massifs in the Dolomites burst into view. It was the huge and precipitous Tofana massif, which had a number of lofty summits and the one which stood before me now, Tofana de Rozes was not quite the highest but surely the most impressive. The whole massif was covered in via Ferrata routes and high hikers cabins perched on some of the ridges. I was not going up any of them but skirting under the truly enormous cliffs on the south face of the massif. I walked down the path towards this monolith to reach a pass  where the remote wild looking Travenanzes valley came up from the north to this watershed. The pass was called Forcella Col de Bos at 2331m. It was quite a large junction with a path going in virtually every direction including a via Ferrata straight up the daunting west face of Tofana. Behind me there was an especially dramatic view across the verdant valley floor to a serrated ridge on the other side and then behind that an even higher lofty spine of jagged towers of the Lagazuoi Gran ridge, just short of 3000 metres high. 

Just at this junction the rain came on quickly and I had to stop at once to cover up. The shower only lasted for 30 minutes but the path and the rock on it became quite slippery and the earth sections quite muddy. I took the high path to Refugio Dibona here. There was a lower route, much of which was along a road, which I shunned and instead took the high path at the foot of the huge cliffs on the south side of Tofana. A less pedantic man would have taken the lower as it is much faster, but I wanted to follow the route of the Alta Via 9 in its entirety and not the Alta Via 9 Lite. So I set off up the dark red track. As I went I noticed a line of openings, like windows, in a line along the base of the cliffs. I knew from before these were galleries of defences from the First World War and that behind these windows were a network if passages and rooms where soldiers endured for months to defend the valley. I walked under these galleries and continued east. Across the valley to the south was the immensely jagged Croda da Lago ridge. It was not that high, but exceptionally jagged and it rose up like a dragon’s back with an unbelievable series of spires. In  general the path under the cliffs on the south side of Tofana was good but in two places torrents from deluges had washed it away and it was tricky to cross these, especially the first one, which was difficult for 20 metres. However I soon reached the end where there was a path which zig-zagged down the scree into the dwarf pine woods and onto Rifugio Dibona. I had stayed here some years ago and was looking forward to it. However it was full and they could not or would not help. I was gutted and a bit worried and decided to continue to Rifugio Pomedes, my original target. I gave them a ring but they were full also. I decided to carry on to them regardless, in the hope they had a cancellation or could find a bed. If not I would sleep outside it in the outdoor seating area.

The path up to it was steep and occasionally slippery. The logs which formed the edge of the path had occasionally been ripped from their fastenings into the hillside. Most were still there and were in a zig-zag fashion. It was under a kilometre and about 200 metres to climb so it only took 40 odd minutes. It was a very small cosy refuge. However the reception initially said it was full but then they found a bed in the dormitory. There were in fact 3 free beds in the dormitory of about 14 beds in all. I was very grateful, but I was always sure there would have been something, as I am sure there would have been at Refugio Dibona had I persisted. I sorted myself out and then went up to the very cosy dining room to write. I sat on my own and wrote for an hour before dinner and an hour after. The meal was very good quality but the portions were smaller than I would have liked. By 2030 I was done and then went to chat to some Americans I met on the trail today who were also staying here. I noticed I was tired as it had been a long day. 

Day 06. 04 September. Rifugio Pomedes to Refugio San Forca. 7.5 hours. 17 km. 1070 up. 1120m down. I got up quite early as the dormitory was springing into life with a few people going up onto the balcony to watch the sunrise. I joined them at around 0645 just as the sun rose above the distant peaks to the east. It was spectacular and it shone a great alpenglow onto the mountains and even the lovely refuge. Then I went in for breakfast and Refugio Pomades served a great breakfast. It was a private lodge and not associated with the CAI (Club Alpine Italy) and similar to many others in the region so it had to keep its reputation high to compete as it did not have a monopoly. I ate well and surreptitiously took a couple of rolls for lunch. I said goodbye to the friendly staff and the two American girls and left well before 0800.

Initially I walked down the piste below the hut for 20 minutes to reach the bottom of the chairlift which brought every man and his dog up to Refugio Pomades. Here there was another small lodge, Refugio Duca d’Aosta, where I also could have stayed last night if they had space. It was also served by a chairlift which came up from the road end and parking space at Peitofane far below and was already running but with all the seats empty. The path continued down the piste under the chairlift dropping another 400 metres, 600 for the day so far, down quite a steep piste. In fact it was so steep that it was difficult to walk on the gravel as my shoes slipped. The meadow on the piste had been cut but the grasses lay brown and wet in the dew waiting to dry off before being scooped up by the small alpine trucks which were designed to do this.  Down and down the piste went with me walking down the middle of it for a good hour. There were mountain bike descent routes on each side of the piste with black, blue, red and green runs just as in skiing. The chair lift companies are trying to diversify now the snow is becoming less predictable and might even disappear and summer mountain bike routes are an obvious choice. Just before reaching Pietofane I bumped into an American who was being a good Samaritan and was retrieving a random person’s wallet he had seen on the ground below the line of the chairlift as he descended. It had fallen out of someone’s pocket when they took the chairlift up. We walked down together and I learnt he was very well acquainted with the area having spent 11 summers in Cortina d’Ampezzo which was just below us now. We parted at Pietofane as he headed off in his car and I went north along a track. I could see the Monte Cristallo, 3221m, looming huge across the valley and below it a smaller ridge called the Crepe de  Zumeles, which I had to climb later in the afternoon. 

This track was a delightful walk after the knee jarring piste. It was virtually flat for 2 kilometers as it passed through the spruce and fir trees. From the signs I think this road was called “Passaggiata Montanelli”. It passed an artificial pond and then ended in a Y junction. Here I took the lower fork and started to descend again going down a series of 9 hairpin bends through the conifer forest. Occasionally it was possible to cut across the bends on a shortcut through the heather and blueberry undergrowth.  After the bends it continued to fall gently for another couple of kilometres where it got busy with hikers and even dog walkers. At the bottom was a large campsite where many of the people I met must have been staying. I did not see a shop or cafe near the entrance so carried on across the bridge over the clear waters with a hint of turquoise in the pools, to meet the busy road. The river continued its descent south into Cortina d’Ampezzo. I had dropped some 1000m in the last 3 hours without any respite except the “Passaggiata Montanelli”. However, now the climb started.

It went on a track initially to a junction to the south before returning north. As It was flat and the woods were easy to walk through I cut across them to save a kilometre. When I joined the track heading north I was astonished to see the amount of electric mountain bikes. The track was almost level and I am sure it was once an old railway line from Cortina to the arterial Pustertal valley to the north. In the space of half a kilometre over 100 bikes passed me and every one was electric and no one was really pedalling.  Just by the abandoned railway station of Fiames I had to leave this easy path and head up into the forest towards the base of some huge cliffs on Pomagagon mountain. 

The walk up through the woods was steep and I quickly gained height but it was hot and tiring. The land was arid here and only pines thrived, their routes extending onto the small rocky path. Just before the path climbed out of the tall pines and into the short forest of the dwarf pines, Pinus mugu, I stopped for my rolls. I had been going for 4 hours now and needed sustenance. However I had no water and it was a dry and arid landscape with a lot of stones, into which any stream would vanish. Once in the dwarf pines the path veered to the east for almost an hour and it went gently up and down across the scree slopes at the bottom of the cliffs. Occasionally the path got to a gully which had been washed out by a deluge and it had ripped the old path away. It was tenuous crossing some of these but enough people had done it so a new path had formed. I was anxious about if there was a space at the lodge I was going to and it was gnawing at my calm so I phoned. Yes they had plenty of beds and I might even have a dorm to myself. I felt a load lifted and became more relaxed. In the entire two hours I walked along this path to the track in the forest I only saw 2 other people. 

The dwarf pine forest and rough track eventually came to a forest with a track contouring the hillside cutting through the middle of it. The view down to Cortina d’Ampezzo was soon obscured again as I went into the cool trees. All the main conifers were mixed here with pines, firs spruce and larch all growing beside each other. There were glades full of grasses with butterflies and an understory of juniper and blueberry. However there was still no water.  I resigned myself to not having anything until I reached the refugio in about 2 hours time. However it was a lovely easy walk and I quickly sauntered along two quiet kilometres before the climbing started where a path left the track. 

It did not take long to walk through the lovely forest to reach the dusty, stubby dwarf pines. If I left the path I would have no hope in forcing my way through these and the branches spread out like a giant rosette and interlocked with each other. Thankfully there was a path, but it was steep and small. There was a large buttress ahead of me up the slope and it hid the pass itself. I climbed the steep path, going to the west of this buttress and suddenly came across a small stream of delightful, cool water emerging from a spring. I stopped and drank a litre then continued up the Crepe de Zumeles. The path was steep but the logs pinned into the hillside ensured it did not erode and it was easy to climb. It first went on top of the buttress where there was a great view down to Cortina d’Ampezzo and indeed the valley and slope I had walked since leaving Pomedes 6 hours previously. From the top of the buttress there was perhaps another steep 200 metres of ascent on a zig-zag path to reach the pass, called Forcella Zumeles 2072m. Here a wonderful view burst upon me of the Monte Cristillo massif and even the San Forca lodge. 

The final 2 kilometres to the lodge were an unexpected surprise as I was now following a graded old military road built over 100 years ago to supply the troops here who were defending the ridge. For over half an hour I strolled along here with the huge mountain across a small side valley. It was alway visible through the larch trees. In one place soldiers had dug right through the apex of the ridge so they could go and see what was happening on the Italian side. This lovely path soon ended and then it was just a short climb up a piste to reach the Rifugio Son Forca, 2219m. The hut’s position was slightly marred by two chair lifts. The chairlifts also made the lodge viable as without the punters having cake and coffee it would close as it could not live from hikers alone. Some 3 minutes before the lodge the rain suddenly started and it was heavy. I was too slow to put my jacket on thinking I could outrun it, but I could not so I was soaked when I reached the lodge. 

The lodge was spacious with a large terrace and good view and many rooms. The friendly staff greeted me and showed me the large dormitory of 6 and told me to choose a bed. He said there would be no one else coming now so I would have it to myself. It also had free showers with unlimited hot water. I washed my wet shirt, liner socks and underpants in the shower, got into my evening wear and went down to the dining room to meet Tim and Maria, a Swiss American couple who were doing the Alta Via 9 the other way round. We picked each other’s brains and recommended places to stay. Disturbingly they said the route from Rifugio Comici to Rifugio Berti was closed. This was the Strada Degli Alpini section and the highlight of the trip. It was closed because a deluge had washed out a 20 metre section of the route and what was left was a loose steep jumble of scree which was dangerous to cross without a rope. However there was an alternative route which was an equally spectacular day of via Ferrata round the south side of the mountain. I still had 3 spare days so I might even do the original route to the closure and return to Rifugio Comici as a day trip as the closure was after it. I sat with Tim and Maria for dinner and we chatted a lot. Tim was a well travelled outdoorsman and knew the Alps and Nepal well so we had a lot to chat about. After dinner I left early to do the blog. The forecast was not good for tomorrow with heavy rain in the afternoon so I might use an extra day and cut tomorrow’s journey in half and stay at Rifugio Col de Varda which Tim highly recommended.     

Day 07. 05 September. Refugio San Forca to Rifugio Col de Varda. 5.5 hours. 14 km. 850 up. 940m down. I probably had my best sleep yet on the AV 9. The dormitory on my own, hard mattress and abstinence of coffee after 1600 hrs probably all contributed. I was also pleased I had had a shower and managed to wash all the clothes that needed it. I had managed to catch up with everything. When I went down from breakfast there was no sign of anyone and it was pouring with rain. A few more guests appeared including Tim and Maria but there was no sign of anyone from the staff. Eventually the friendly young Oasis fan appeared, probably having slept in. The breakfast was a bit haphazard and they ran out of bread almost immediately. However I bore no hard feelings as I was probably like that at 25. By now the rain had stopped but everything was very wet and the mountains were covered in mist. The forecast was for it to be overcast with the odd light shower until 1400 and then for a front to arrive and heavy rain was expected. I had to modify my plan for the day and cut it a little short as the last 3 km were in demanding terrain with exposed paths and a section of via ferrata. Instead I would just go to Rifugio Col de Varda and hopefully beat the expected deluge. 

I left at 0800 and went down the good path beside a ski piste all the way to the enormous hotel at Passo Tre Croci which must have had over 100 rooms. The path was quite straightforward except for one bit where it went into a gully. There were the remains of a bridge which had been swept away when a torrent of water and stones cascaded down the gully reshaping it and sweeping away all in its path. There was a shower on the way down but by now I was into the trees and the firs and spruce overhung the path and kept it dry. 

When I reached the Hotel Tre Croci I was quite shocked to see so many people here. I walked down the road a little and was astounded to see almost a kilometre of cars parked nose to tail on the verge and the car park at Tre Croci was also full even at this early hour. The reason for this was a nearby lake, the turquoise Lago del Sorapis, had become a victim of instagram and every one had come from far and wide to walk to it and marvel in its beauty and perhaps most importantly take a selfie of themselves at the lake for their social media accounts. I had been to the lake twice previously when I did the Alta Via 3 and Alta Via 4 some 7 or 8 years ago and don’t remember anything like this. The cars were from all over Europe from Latvia, to Denmark and Spain and everything between. I suppose it is easy to be critical of this herd mentality but we all do it to some extent. The path to the lake was not easy especially in the wet and it would be an all day trip so the punters certainly had their work cut out. I know of many natural places now that have the same social media status as a visit to the Eiffel Tower, Buckingham Palace or Burj Khalifa in Dubai. The trouble is that natural places can easily become overwhelmed. I was thankful I had seen Lago del Sorapis before it went viral.

I walked down the road for a few hundred metres and came to a path with a sign to Forcella Popena with a path number 215. It made sense to take it but it was not marked on my map or any of the 4 digital maps I use. My intended route continued down the road and then up the hill on path 222. I was sure this path would be 1 side of a triangle but without verification it might be a wild goose chase so carried on down beside the line of parked cars for a kilometre to the new bridge over the Rudavoi Torrente stream. There were perhaps 100 road bikes flying down the hill here having left Cortina d’Ampezzo in the morning. At last I came to the bridge and could escape up the hillside and into the forest again. 

I climbed up the small path on the east side of the torrent for 15 minutes and then came to the other end of Path 215, so it would have been preferable to have followed it after all as long as it was not raining as one would have to cross the Rudavoi Torrente, which at the moment was a small jump but in a deluge be impossible. As I climbed I noticed that there had been a recent violent surge of stones and floodwater down the valley which had been fed by a couple of landslides and a Biblical rain. I have always noticed these in the Dolomites in the last 15 years I have been coming here but they seem to be getting worse and causing more damage. I am not sure of the exact figure but I think for each degree the atmosphere warms the air can contain 25% more moisture. So if it warms 4 degrees that is double the water falling on these bare mountains and it just surges down taking rocks with it until it becomes a violent sludge ripping a ravine in the mountainside. Any path in the way vanishes and it is not worth repairing them as it will happen again.

The path climbed up through the mixed conifers with all 4 species in the forest, namely spruce, fir, pine and larch. Beneath the trees was grass, especially when the larches dominated. There was the frequent glade in this pretty forest. However as the path climbed towards 2000 metres the soil thinned and more and more rocks appeared. Soon the tall trees gave way to the impenetrable mass of dwarf pines.  The path had been cut through them and it seemed they were trimmed back every few years. Without the path it would be impossible to push through them. The path now climbed more steeply as it approached Forcella de Popena, 2214m. On one occasion it went up a very steep grassy bank which was quite exposed and required care. My route did not go right up to the pass but traversed right under it. There was an alternative which went higher with great views apparently, but it was not worth it today and it was longer. Just below the pass was a deep washout gully with enough recent footsteps to create a small precarious 10 metre passage in the steep debris. 

The path I wanted now descended slightly on the east side of the small spine like ridge called Pale de Misurina. Across the valley to the east was the very iconic Cadini di Misurina massif with its multiple towers where I originally intended to spend the night at the Rifugio Fonda Savio, while to the south was the enormous bulk of Sorapiss which was largely covered in clouds. I strolled along the rocky path barely losing height for almost 2 kilometres until the dwarf pine gave way to the mixed conifer forest again. Here I got a view of the Lago di Misurina lake far below. Once the path entered the forest it descended more quickly. The rain was now heavy enough to warrant a jacket. I passed a couple and a sporty American lady and continued my descent until I reached the octagonal compound which was the cattle sheds for the Malga di Misurina which was still intact but did not look like it was functioning. By now I was smelling the kitchens of Misurina which had a handful of hotels, and soon I was on the road beside the lake. 

I needed to get some cash as the rifugios to the east where I was going often did not have a mobile signal to take card payments and required cash. I knew the supermarket had an ATM so headed up to it. I passed a simple Albergo called Hotel Sport and it had a room for 100 euros. This was likely to be the cheapest in Misurina but it was not good value for money so I decided to continue as planned. At the supermarked I got cash, had a sandwich and cake in the adjacent cafe and then left this busy village which only existed to serve tourists. I walked back down the west side of the lake towards the huge building on the dam which looked very grand from afar but was now a run down institution. There were a few ducks on the lake but many coots, which seemed to thrive here. The rain was heavy as I walked down the lake but the hotels, pizzerias and cafes looked uninviting. High up on the hillside though I could see the Rifugio Col de Varda and it looked cosy. I set my sights on it. 

There was a chairlift up to it which was running but nobody was on it. Beneath the chairlift was a track which wove up the Hillside between the conifers.  It was easy to follow the track which was made for vehicles so it was not too steep. I passed a few people coming down who probably took the chairlift up and we exchanged greetings as we passed. The rain got heavier as I neared the refugio and for the last 15 minutes it was torrential. However I was well covered up this time. As I neared the refugio I noticed two large spouts of water pouring from its open ended gutter onto the ground like from a gargoyle. I soon got there and went in. There was no other customer in there and just some 6 staff chatting and milling about. I am not sure they were pleased to see me as it meant they would have to cater for one person tonight, which might not be worth it for them. 

I was shown a nice dorm again with 6 beds and I was sure I would be the only one in it, especially as the chairlift had now stopped operating. I took off my wet clothes and hung them up and then went down to the main dining room, which usually would have been full of punters who came up on the chairlift for the day. I had a coffee and wrote the blog while the rain poured outside. It was very cosy to be inside and watch it pour. Occasionally it paused and cleared and then I could see across to Monte Cristallo where I had been this morning. However its summit was lost in the cloud. 

Day 08. 06 September. Rifugio Col de Varda to Rifugio Auronzo. 6 hours. 10 km. 930 up. 730m down. It was very quiet in the almost deserted lodge. I think there was just me as a client and 2 staff in it and the staff were in another part so I heard nothing all night save the occasional patter of drizzle on the zinc roof outside. When I woke in the morning there was still a gentle drizzle and thick mist. I could barely see the chairlift. Breakfast was very Italian with plenty of sweet breads and biscuits however there was also a cheese and ham toastie which helped to fill me up. I paid by card and left at about 0830. 

I found the path and followed it through wet undergrowth in the remaining forest until I soon climbed out of the trees and into the dwarf pines scrub. There was very little to see except for the immediate rocky path through the scrub and occasionally an opaque rock wall, pillar or tower would reveal itself and then the mist would swallow it up again. As I climbed the steep rocky path I had to cross a few washouts where the path had disappeared. Soon the scrub pines vanished and the only plants left were alpine flowers like the small mauve harebells or a potentilla whose flowers had long gone. The mist cleared slightly so I could see 3-400 hundred metres and that was enough for me to glimpse some of the immense towers here. I could also see a gully ahead with the damaged path going up it. When I reached it I had to clamber up broken steps and loose rock for perhaps 10 minutes to reach the first small pass which was called Forcella de Misurina at 2395 metres. I had been going for under an hour.  I saw some cables leading down the otherside into the mist so I stopped at the apex of the pass to put on my harness and safety gear as I was sure I would need it. 

I did need the harness almost straight away as the path dropped down a rocky gully full of loose stones. There was a cable bolted to the rock at the side of the gully and I put a carabiner onto it and went down to the next bolt with the carabine sliding down the cable to eventually hit the bolt. I now put on the second carabiner on the cable below the bolt and then transferred the first one below the bolt so I was always attached. Had I fallen or slipped at any stage I would have fallen to the next bolt some 2-3 metres under me and then a bit more until the sling tightened to arrest my fall. A fall should not be fatal but it would still hurt a lot so I moved slowly and gingerly as the rock was wet and greasy. The cable on this descent was not continuous, but just at the steepest bits. Indeed only about 25% of the entire descent was protected and the rest was just steep. It took half an hour to negotiate my way down. Rarely the mist cleared for me to see I was going into a high valley and on the other side of the valley and to my east was a forest of high towers. It was a great shame I could not see as I remember this massif, the Cadini di Misurina, was one of the most jagged and spectacular in the entire Dolomites. At the bottom I was below the mist and could see the floor of the high valley which was largely covered in stones. It was called the Ciadin de la Neve.  At the bottom I met a path coming up from the Lago Misurina which I joined and continued east starting to climb. Suddenly two small fit dogs ran past me but I could not see their owners at all. The dogs must have come up from Lago Misurina. They continued up and were soon gone, lost in the mist and stones. 

It was an easy climb compared to the descent I had just done and as I was going up I was more sure of where I was putting my feet. After about 10 minutes I heard voices and soon came across an American couple who were descending. They were doing the Alta Via 4 and were a delight to talk to. Had we been in a hut I could have talked to them all evening. They saw the dogs also and assumed they were mine. Not long afterwards I passed another group of young Americans. They were equally charming, bright and witty and we chatted for a good 5 minutes during which time the mist cleared sufficiently so our respective paths up to the pass on each side were visible. The one I had come down and they were going up looked quite tame from here and not as fearsome as I remembered. We parted and I carried on up the mountainside which was now narrowing into a gully. Soon it was blocked by some enormous boulders which were wedged across it. The way up now was on ladders bolted onto these boulders, first one and then 10 metres above the first another. Each ladder was about 6 metres long and nearly vertical. To my south here looming in the mist was a cluster of about 10 lofty rock towers. They loomed over me like curious older men each peering over the other one’s shoulder. From the ladders it was a short clamber up a rocky path to the main main pass of the morning, the Forcella del Diavolo, the Pass of the Devil, 2598m. On each side of this pass were a couple of towers looming above me. It was in this inaccessible rocky place that I looked for my favourite alpine flower, the purple Campanula morettiana, a bellflower unique to the high crags of the Dolomites but I saw none.

The descent down the other side of this pass was quite straightforward but it was on a rocky path often covered in slippery gravel. Occasionally the path had been washed out by a deluge but enough footsteps had created a new route across the steep groove. It took a good half hour to go round the bottom of some cliffs into an open high inhospitable stony valley and then climb up a short scree slope to reach the Rifugio Fonda Savio. The mist had returned as I got to the lodge so I could not appreciate the spectacular view which I knew was here, as I had stayed here before some 8 years ago.  I left my rucksack outside and went in for a cheese roll and coffee. It was a lively hut when I was last here but it was very sombre now. The manager of the hut never smiled and had an austere authority which seemed to spread over his staff also, who seemed easy going but were fearful of him. The atmosphere was tense and it was a relief to leave. 

Immediately after the lodge was a small section of via ferrata leading across a crag to the small alpine valley below. I was still on the path called “Sentiero Bonacossa” which went from Rifugio Col de Varda to Rifugio Auronzo. Once down across the valley it followed a rocky route and veered to the north. Soon it came to a junction at a pass  where there was a pedestrian route down to Lago Misurina and another down a valley to the east. The Sentiero Bonacossa however continued north and now reached its most interesting passages. Firstly it went past some old fortifications where troops must have stored ammunition in the first world war and then it got to a series of towers. The path went to the east of these towers on narrow ledges with a cliff above and a cliff below. Often there was a cable to hold onto like a bannister but at other times there was nothing but a single layer of small dwarf pine between you and and a gaping mist filled abyss. It continued like this for almost an hour where the going was quite slow. I kept my harness on all the time with the elastic lanyards clipped together round my heck so they were quick to deploy when I got to more cables. 

Eventually I got to the passage I was waiting for where the route veered to the left and went up a very steep and slippery slab under an overhanging strip of rock. This whole passage was protected and I think it needed to be as a slip here would be fatal. halfway up the greasy slab there was a 20 rung ladder to help you up the worst of it before the cables became the main way of both securing yourself and hauling oneself up. After ascending nearly 50 vertical metres the climb veered to the right and continued up a shallower slab with a cable bolted to the wall beside it. This slab gained another 30 metres and took you to a series of narrow ledges, some protected with cables and others not until at last the path meandered through towers and reached the grassy slopes. 

It followed a path across the grass until it reached a final crag with a well defined path on the east side of it. There were a few cables at the most exposed part but by and large the path was wide and easy as if had been hacked out of the mountainside by troops in the First World War. I went across these and then climbed up to reach the end of the more challenging sections and the Sentiero Bonacossa and entered a rounded gentle ridge covered in stones and grasses. The drizzle was now persistent but through the mist I could see Rifugio Aurunzo. At one point I saw 3 ptarmigan beside the path and they shuffled to the side hopping from stone to stone as I approached. As I neared the Refugio it got very busy with dog walkers in ponchos, people venturing from their car in white trainers and families. I soon saw the carpark beside the refuge and it had perhaps 200 campervans, 300 cars and 4 council buses parked in it. Rifugio Auronzo was as busy as I remembered it last time 8 years ago as the main attraction here was the Tre Cime di Laveredo or the Drei Zinnen which was one of the main tourist attractions in the Dolomites. I went up past all the walkers hovering around in the drizzle and went in, having noticed to my delight the hut had C.A.I emblazoned on the side. 

I asked for a room or mattress in a dorm but it was full. I queried this and said that as a member of an affiliated Alpine Club to the Italian one I should have a right to stay here. This caused a bit of discussion in Italian between the two friendly receptionists who then said that we keep some emergency beds for members but they are not available until the evening. It was a foot in the door. I then chatted with them as I put my harness and helmet away and said I would wait until the evening for my allocated bed. Eventually they said I could have one now although it was against protocol. So I went up and changed into dry clothes and then went down to the huge dining room. The receptionist said that on a really busy day in the summer they can get up to 8000 visitors in the carpark and half that in the lodge. It took me all afternoon to write the blog but I was done by 1900 as dinner was ready. It had been an atmospheric day and quite eerie to wander up and down the cables in the mist largely on my own as the peaks loomed above me. However it was a shame not to have seen them in their glory as they were magnificent. 

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