St. Ulrich to Trieste, Day 6 - Domegge di Cadore to Rifugio Giaf

Friday June 26, Domegge di Cadore to Rifugio Giaf

When we checked into our hotel in Domegge, the host said "you can help yourself to breakfast tomorrow morning in the room just thattaway." We hadn't anticipated breakfast at this establishment, so it was nice to learn it was included. We knew we were well into in the land of sweet, empty-carbs breakfast, but figured that and a cup of milk would be a decent start. 

With that in mind, we only bought trail snacks at the Lidl that night. You can see where this is going.

"Breakfast" was, alas, so much of a misnomer that we regretted it having been mentioned at all. Juice boxes and plastic-wrapped squishy buns do not an energized hiker make.

Thus we started our day with an unplanned detour. We couldn't afford the 3.6-mile RT trek back to Lidl, so we tried a nearby bakery hoping for a Vollkornsemmel or hunk of cheesecake. Alas, Italy is not Germany. The bakery made only tiny, precious, empty-carb works of art. Alas. I figured I could at least top those empty carbs off with our remaining chunk of protein bar from the day before--but S had deemed it un-save-worthy and thrown it out. And so we began our hike, one of us cheerfully caffeinated, the other hungry and pissed off. 

We crossed the bridge over Lago di Centro Cadore, a reservoir created in the 1950s by damming the Piave River, and probably part of the reason these ancient towns are now so car-centric. 

Pretty pretty

Then it was just a 4,450' tromp uphill over 7.5 miles, from woods to scrub to scree.

Early on, we deftly crossed the creek in the photo below, stepping from block to block. Once we had crossed, we saw a sign on the other side that sternly warned "do NOT walk in the water!", presumably because the riverbed sloped steeply downward to the left, and no one wants to get swept away by a waterfall. Someday the gods of stern warnings will show us signs before we traverse the trail instead of after. In any case, we obviously survived.

Woodpecker, one of several carved sculptures along the road 

As we hiked up the road, we encountered multiple trucks and Baggerladder cutting and stacking trees, either routine maintenance or bark beetle damage control.

About six miles in, we took a left near Rifugio Padova... 

...and joined the Alta Via 6.

We paused on a tree stump for a small lunch, then continued upward in the increasing heat as woods yielded to sunnier, scrubbier trails. Note the saw-toothy mountains; we had admired them from afar for the past two days, and today we were crossing them.

Looking back whence we came

We had been stopping along the trail frequently over the day to cool down, rehydrate, and ingest snacks.

Lady slipper!

The last quarter mile up was scree. Hiking up the scree field was fine, as the slopes were shallow and blocked in enough that the acrophobic brain felt safe.

A few splotches of snow, and a welcome cooling breeze

A sign said there's a bivouac somewhere up thattaway

Nearly at the top of the saddle...

Hiking down was another matter. From the saddle, Forcella Scodavacca, we still had 2,100' down, across 1.6 miles, to Rifugio Giaf. The acrophobe goes down steep, exposed scree verrrrry slowly, because the views are disorienting, so the descent took a while. No photos, because my brain and knees were busy, but eventually the scree yielded to scrub and then woods. Even in the woods, it was a steep descent. Trail runners happily jogged past us, jumping from rock to rock without a care in the world. 

When we finally pulled into Rifugio Giaf, we were beat. Our host took one look at us and asked if we wanted a drink before checking in, so we sat outside with dozens of Alpine Club hikers (Giaf is on the Alta Via 6) and savored Sprudel and Apfelschorle before dinner.

We had booked so far in advance that we managed to land a small private room, where high up on the wall, we had a view.

Ta da! 10.2 miles, 4,700' up, 2,500' down, 100% acrophobe approved--but oof, the heat wiped us out. Temps were supposed to be even hotter that weekend, so we mapped out an abbreviated route for the next day, and gave ourselves permission for the next few days to invoke the "weather emergency clause" in our Rules of Walking, which allows mass transit during extreme weather (not that there's mass transit up in these here hills).

St. Ulrich to Trieste, Day 5 - Rifugio Scotter-Palatini to Domegge di Cadore

Thursday June 25, Rifugio Scotter-Palatini to Domegge di Cadore

The fence behind Rifugio Scotter was erected a few years ago, after A a boulder tumbled down the mountain and hit the inn. 

Our route headed up the side of Antelao toward Forcella Piccolo dell'Antelao (2,120 m). Lots of wildflowers en route, including wild carnations.

The trail up soon became scree. 

Can you spot the hiker up ahead, coming down?

The trail was steep, and there were ample opportunities to slip, but this here acrophobe generally finds scree manageable if I just look at the trail immediately in front of me. I took this photo of S after I reached a spot with a few trees, which are stabilizing to stand next to and made it easier for me to look up.

This was a little before the pass, but the highest view we'd have of the Boite Valley and San Vito.

It was also where our route began to overlap with both the Alta Via 4 and Alta Via 5. 

Over the pass we went. We reminded ourselves to eat, so paused for an apple, water, and a protein bar. While we sat, a trio of backpack-less trail runners came jogging up after us, then headed down toward Rifugio Galassi. We were still finishing our apple when they came trotting back up and headed over the pass again toward Scotter. We felt very slow, but we were also carrying 18-lb backpacks, and we had a few decades on those young'uns. We later learned that the Lavaredo Ultra Trail races were taking place in the area June 24-28. 

From here, just 4,900' down to Domegge di Cadore.

Rifugio Galassai. We figured Ms. Namenlos had made it there, since we hadn't passed her on our way. Was she enough over jetlag to already be hiking, or was she sitting on the veranda eating breakfast? We didn't stop to find out.

Alta Via 4 and 5 head south behind the hut, both ending in Pieve di Cadore.

The trail heading down involved almost no scree; instead, it was bordered by scrub and trees, and was relatively easy going.

Only one section of trail appeared sketchy. Whatever alpine club was responsible for its maintenance was clearly aware of this, and had rigged up loose fiber ropes to provide a psychological security blanket. 

From then on, we had lots of greenery easing the way down. 

Fancypants cairn... 

Can you spot the red and white striped rifugio supply box heading down the mountain on the cable line? When we passed beneath the cable, we saw signs warning hikers not to linger. You never know when a cable might snap. 

As we descended into shadier trails, we ran into none other than Ms. Namenlos. I told her we were glad to find her alive and well. "Yes, yes!," she said cheerfully, "but you were right--I did have to use my headlamp last night! Really, I only used it to be polite--I wanted the people at the Rifugio to see that I was coming..." 

She had paused in the present spot because she wasn't sure which way to go. Her map pointed in the same direction as ours, but she had heard tell of a waterfall nearby and didn't want to miss it. We knew nothing of waterfalls, so we continued downhill without her. ("Don't slow down! Keep up the pace!," S kept urging from behind me.)

About two miles later, we found the waterfall. Cascata delle Pile was impossible to miss. We paused for another apple and some Amaretti.

From here, the remaining 7 miles downhill were on dry river beds, gravel, and paved roads. 

The painter Titian (Tiziano Vecellio, c. 1485–1576), was born in Pieve di Cadore, two towns down the freeway from Domegge, our destination for the night. Local mountains show up in his paintings. 

"Titian was inspired here"

Signage offered examples

Just before gravel trail ceded to paved road, we paused for Apfelschorle and Kuchen at the Ristorante Alla Pineta, with views of saw-toothy mountains in the distance. We didn't realize it then, but we'd be hiking across that range the very next day.

Wild strawberries...

I had routed us through Rizzios, a town known for its characteristic 16th-18th c. village architecture. The public fountain was a welcome sight. 

A final scenic stretch of trail ran from Rizzios down to Domegge before intersecting with a busy road.

Little Free Library with a view!

Once we hit the road, there was no safe way to cross it other than to walk west on a bridge across the river, cross the road, then walk back east on the bridge across the river. Domegge and its neighbor Calalzo di Cadore are both disappointingly car-centric, despite having been settled since at least the 5th century BCE.

Hot--did I mention it was hot?--and tired, we stopped at a gelato shop on our way to our hotel, and found this ad for a local race. If the Lavaredo Ultra Trail 10k, 20k, 50k, or 120k (!) is too much for you, perhaps the S. Giovanni 5k is a gentler option... 

...with just a little hill at the end.

After gelato, we checked in at our hotel, showered, and set off in search of groceries and dinner in neighboring Calalzo. 

Lest tourists think Calalzo is merely run-of-the-mill car-centric, one of the few stretches of actual sidewalk had giant sacks of concrete debris placed in the middle of it at short intervals for a good half mile. This genius move forces pedestrians to step into the road, possibly in front of oncoming cars, in order to pass each sack. This, plus the need to cross a river twice just to cross a road, earns Calalzo-Domegge our 2026 award for "Least Pedestrian-Friendly Town of the Alps."

Meanwhile, the award for Best Pizza of 2026 goes to the Casa Marrazzo yellow tomato pizza with fresh ricotta, confit yellow cherry tomatoes, and basil cream at Pizzeria el Gringo, located in Calalzo just beyond all those sacks of concrete.

Ta da! 12.6 of the day's 16 miles, 2,000' up, 4,900' down, a few thrills but 100% acrophobe approved. 

St. Ulrich to Trieste, Day 4 - Rifugio Croda da Lago to Rifugio Scotter-Palatini

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. 

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.

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.

Ta da! 12 miles, 3,100' up, 4,650' down, 92% acrophobe approved.