The Beginning of Dreams: Dolomites Alta Via 1

It all started when I was 17. Well, not exactly everything. I already had a good dose of love for the mountains, inherited from my parents. There was a passion for hiking, inherited from the Italian Alpine Club (CAI). There was the thrill of a backpacking trip, inherited from scouting.

These were the foundations upon which I decided to embark on a hike. And not just any hike, but the famous Alta Via delle Dolomiti, known as the Alta Via dei Giganti. And we were talking about giants: giant mountains, giant elevation gains, giant backpacks! I don't even remember how I managed to drag two of my friends with me, but I remember my father going to talk to the parents of one of them to convince them to let her go. My father was always on my side in these things; I think he understood my need for adventure, or he simply didn't want me to go alone.

The fact is, we found ourselves on a hot August morning weaving our way through the tourists at Lake Braies, drawing curious glances at our backpacks. Yes, because we were three 17-year-olds; who had the money to pay for mountain huts? So we lugged our tents, sleeping bags, stoves, and moka pots! We were very inexperienced; thinking back now, with my ultralight gear, my shoulders still hurt. Of course, we didn't have a GPS, and trail apps didn't exist yet, so we had to carry three or four maps in our backpacks. Luckily, I already knew some of the trails. We set off happy and carefree, not knowing where the trail would take us. By the third day, we were already fed up. One of us had terrible blisters on her feet and couldn't continue. We called my parents, who promptly came to our rescue at Capanna Alpina. Salvation arrived on four wheels in the form of a large, sweet, juicy watermelon. But as we drove home, I had already made up my mind: a day of rest and then I would set off again, even alone. Luckily, it wasn't necessary to leave alone: ​​Giorgia decided to continue with me. During our rest day, we came to the conclusion that we couldn't continue traveling so loaded down. We abandoned our tent, sleeping bags, mattresses, and even our coffee maker. We had come to a better understanding. We set off, recharged and with our backs loosened, from where we had left off.

The first evening at the Nuvolau refuge, we were chased away like mangy dogs by the drunken owner. Our fault? We hadn't booked. At the refuge below, the Averau, they saw us arrive almost in tears and gave us a generous discount, because otherwise we wouldn't have been able to afford a private refuge. I've never slept in a more beautiful place. I still remember the relaxing shower, the dormitory all to ourselves, the excellent dinner, and the enormous shooting star that illuminated the summit of the Averau. From then on, the trip continued (almost) without a hitch, except for a few scary moments on Pelmo. It was so wonderful to wake up in the morning in a magnificent place, walk while chatting about the future, passing through incredible landscapes, and arrive in the evening at another refuge, where you can be pampered by a warm stube and good food. I discovered that the tent is a great adventure, but the refuge is also fascinating. Being two such young girls, and the Alta Via not yet being as popular as it is today, we attracted the attention of many, who showered us with compliments and admiration. We were so proud!

The highlight of the trip was one afternoon, on the road to Tissi. We'd lingered to reach Cima Coldai, then to swim in the lake, without noticing the dark clouds gathering. The sky gave us a good shower, and not just a "head wash." Of course, we reached the refuge and it stopped. We were soaked to the skin, and a little depressed. But shortly thereafter, the sky cleared, the sun set, and... the north face of Civetta, with its 1,000-meter drop, was fiery red, and a rainbow framed it like a painting. How wonderful!

Our journey ends a little before Belluno. We're tired and not equipped for the via ferratas on the Schiara. Plus, school is starting soon, and we haven't finished our homework... We spend our last night in a bivouac, in the company of dormice. Then, somewhat sad, we return to the valley, and from there to the stifling heat of the plains.

I return home and already think about the next trip. How many high routes are there in the Dolomites? I want to climb them all! In those days, the dream of hiking across the Alps was born, a dream I would cherish for a long time and realize exactly 10 years later.