Wednesday June 24, Rifugio Croda da Lago to Rifugio Scotter-Palatini
After we and 48 other guests had breakfast, we headed out...
...and back up the hill to the Mondeval plateau.
Sound on to hear the cowbells...
Our first big goal for the day was to hike downhill to San Vito di Cadore--a descent of 4,400' across 6.6 miles. The isosceles mountain in the background of the photo below is Antelao (3,263 m), "King of the Dolomites," about 250 lower than Marmolata.
Half of the day's descent was through vast fields of wildflowers, often along cow paths that were in turn often obscured by grasses, often crossing above creeks, and often with steep drops to one side. The steep drop-offs (of which I have no photos, because I was busy being brave) were no fun for the acrophobe, and even the nonacrophobe found the route surprisingly strenuous in spots.
The numbered trail was well blazed. This was essential for navigating, since the trail was often impossible to see beneath the flora. We saw nary a soul the entire way down, perhaps because the trail was so difficult to navigate, which probably also contributed to why the trail was so difficult to navigate.
Pine needles occasionally offered welcome relief from the tall grass.
At one point, the trail descended steeply to a riverbed. We crossed the dry bed and to get up the other side, climbed up a log that had been arranged on the washed-out bank.
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| Looks not-so-high in the photo, but it was about 15-20 feet up |
Eventually the descent shifted from meadow to woods. Although steeper, and covered with last fall's leaves, the going was easier. The trail spit us out in the flat valley near Serdes, on the outskirts of San Vito. Here we had our first real feel of the heat dome over central Europe.
It was stinking hot. We found a grocery store in San Vito proper where, incidentally, we crossed but did not overlap with the Alta Via 3. While S shopped for hydration and calories, I sat at a table near the entrance, soaking in the air-conditioning, drinking water, and trying not to keel over. It was a powerful lesson that in this heat, we'd need to drink and eat before our brains registered that we were thirsty or hungry.
After tanking up and cooling off, we headed out toward our second goal for the day: Rifugio Scotter-Palatini, another 2.8 miles and 1,200' up from San Vito. In the fields just above San Vito, we passed a priest who was hiking down; he was covered from head to toe in black clothes and looking perfectly comfortable. Come to think of it, on our way into San Vito, we passed a woman similarly covered in long pants and sleeves--and also wearing a mask. I'm not sure how they withstood the heat.
Up, up, up we went; I was apparently too hot to take pictures. Switchbacks made the route easier, but they didn't didn't make the trail any cooler. When a shady but steep side spur gave us the chance to cut across switchbacks, we took it, and that's how we came across a Canadian hiker who was just starting the first day of a four-day solo hut-to-hut hiking adventure. Her goal for the evening was Rifugio Pietro Galassi, on the other side of the pass. We were a little surprised she had started up from San Vito so late in the day, but she was about our age, clearly an extrovert, and we enjoyed the conversation as we hiked up to Scotter together. We'll call her Ms. Namenlos.
Once we arrived at the hut, we went upstairs to set up our room (getting out our Huettenschlafsaecke, charging our devices, washing our hands and faces, etc.). Then, of course, it was time for a late-afternoon Apfelschorle. Ms. Namenlos was still downstairs. She had stayed for a drink, and was asking the innkeeper about Italian tipping etiquette. While we rehydrated, she began looking for cash with which to leave a tip. When she couldn't remember where she had put her cash baggie, she proceeded to unload her entire over-stuffed backpack while sharing her entire life history. It was a very slow, not very methodical process, and we began to worry privately about her ability to reach her destination before sunset.
S excused himself to go take a shower. When 6pm rolled by, and Ms. Namenlos still hadn't started repacking her pack, I started making casual observations. Rifugio Galassi? Where's that? Wow, Komoot says that's at least another two hours from here, most of it steeply uphill over a scree field! Do you have a headlamp? Oh, did you know huts often have a 6 or 7pm arrival cut-off for dinner? Maybe it's worth calling ahead to let them know you're on your way.
"Oh, I've got all that covered," she assured me: "If there's a problem, I just have to push a button on my phone, and the company that planned my route will send help."
I thought maybe I was distracting her, so I excused myself too. Half an hour later, S went back downstairs and talked with her about mountain safety and how not to get stuck in the dark needing rescue. "I'm not stupid," she told him, still repacking. By the time we went down for dinner at 7pm, she was gone, and we sent hopeful thoughts uphill after her that she'd safely make it to Rifugio Galassi before dark.
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Below: the late-afternoon view from our window, 1,200' above San Vito, on Antelao. Note the Ladin flag to the right. The blue, white, and green stripes are meant to mimic the colors of Ladin landscapes.
We ate dinner outside. The evening air cooled as the sun began its descent. The waxing gibbous moon rose from behind the mountains, making it possible to watch the Earth spin in real time.
Looking back whence we came: the big mountain in the photo below is Monte Pelmo (3,168 m). Our route down from the Mondeval plateau started at the saddle to its right.
Our private room was in the hobbit wing. Only two other guests were at the hut that night, evidence that we were now well off the popular Alta Via 1.
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| Room to the left, bathroom to the right. Hitting our heads on the ceiling once was all it took to remind us not to hit our heads twice. |
