Hut-to-hut hiking in the Dolomites
Joey exploring the mountains around Rifugio Lagazuoi (shot on Ektachrome slide film)
We hiked for four days in the Dolomites, doing an average of 10 miles and 2000-3000 feet of elevation gain per day. Each day on the trail was challenging; with frequent thunder and hail storms, and steep ascents and descents through boulder fields, and over uneven and snowy terrain. It was the longest multi-day trek I had done to date, and a major test of my physical and mental endurance. At times my anxiety had me convinced that we were lost, or would be struck by lightning, or knocked out by giant hail balls, or buried in a sudden rockfall.
I knew that trekking in the Dolomites would be tough, but I had no idea just how luxurious it would be otherwise. Dispersed in the most unexpected places throughout the Dolomites are mountain huts, called rifugios (in Italian, or hüttes in German). These rifugios serve as rest stops, and often full service restaurants… sometimes with overnight accommodation for trekkers. On most days we would encounter a rifugio midway through the day, where we could stop for lunch. At lunch we could order hot food, coffee, and even a beer or ice cold Aperol Spritz from the bar… and finish it off with homemade dessert. At the end of the day we’d check into the next rifugio, where we would be served a multi-course dinner (this time with wine, and followed by dessert, again). Then we’d be able to take a hot shower, before retiring to a clean bed for a good night’s rest. In the morning a substantial breakfast would be served, and because this is Italy— with espresso or a cappuccino. The rifugios offer bag lunches that you can buy to take on the trail, but we did this only once before realizing we could plan to stop at another rifugio for a proper lunch (and the next round of Aperol and dessert!).
My trekking companion was Joey, a long time friend of many friends from Los Angeles, who happened to be traveling around Italy and Switzerland at the same time I was. I would be traveling solo for several days around the Dolomites, but I wanted a companion for the trekking portion of the trip, so I invited Joey to join me on this trek, and he was down for the adventure!
Day 1:
Corvara to Rifugio Santa Croce
Where we started and ended out trek, the picture perfect town of Corvara (This and many other shots in this series are on film)
Rifugio Santa Croce on the left and the chapel on the right.
Day one wasn’t all blue skies and green fields. The day started in the lovely town of Corvara, from where we walked a bit, and then caught a bus to Badia. From the town of Badia, our route took us through residential and industrial areas, and a unbearably long stretch along a waterway that smelled very strongly of cow shit. Our self-guided trek had been mapped out by a travel company, and for the first half of the day we were seriously doubting whether we should follow the route they had planned for us. Around midday just as a downpour started, we had reached the little town of San Cassiano, so we used the rain as an excuse to stop for coffee and pastries. We were somewhat frustrated that we had come here to trek in the mountains, yet had only walked from one town to another, backtracking much of the way along paved roads.
When the rain finally let up, we continued walking. From San Cassiano, the route ascended up a road, and finally onto an actual dirt trail. The scenery soon became much more SCENIC, and the trail became steeper… we were finally, actually trekking into the mountains!
Several hours later we reached our destination for the night, nestled at the base of a rocky mountainside; the Rifugio Santa Croce. The rifugio has a very rustic mountain chapel feel, and we were one of only two groups staying there for the night. The rifugio is adorned with Catholic sculptures and imagery, and next to the rifugio there is a single room chapel. Behind the chapel are three large crucifixes on which hang these almost grotesque statues of Jesus and two other men (shows how much I know of the Bible, I don’t know who the other two are supposed to be). The vacant grounds, empty chapel, and statues created a surreal, sort of ‘The Shining’ atmosphere after dusk.
The rifugio was staffed by a small family, and at dinner they served us vegetable soup, and each an enormous plate of fried potatoes topped with fried eggs. In these hard to reach mountain huts, it seems that the kitchens rely on ingredients that don’t require much refrigeration; like canned food, pasta, potatoes and eggs.
Joey inside the chapel at Rifugio Santa Croce
Large crucifix behind the chapel.
The empty grounds of the Rifugio Santa Croce at dusk.
Dining room at Rifugio Santa Croce.
Vegetable soup and wine for dinner.
This taxidermied fox only added to the rustic creepy vibe of the rifugio.
Day 2:
Rifugio Santa Croce to Rifugio Lavarella
The hills are alive with flowers (and ants!)
Sometimes a day out on the trail can feel like a week, and day two was one of those days. Day two had us trekking through rolling green hills under a perfect blue sky… to later ascending a steep and barren rocky mountainside, cold and drenched, in a thundering hailstorm. Today our route had to be changed last minute because of a late winter snowfall, and too much lingering snow on the original route. Because of the risk of avalanche and sliding off trail, our trekking company had created an alternate route which required a downhill walk to the town of Pedaroa. The walk down to Pedaroa took us through fields of green grass and bright yellow flowers… it felt like a scene from The Sound of Music. At one point I sat down in the grass to photograph this perfect scene, only to realize minutes later that I had sat on an anthill, and my entire body and all of my belongings were completely crawling with ants. I had to take off and shake out all of my layers of clothes, my backpack, and all of the contents of my camera bag, and wipe hundreds of ants off of everything. Ah, the joys of being in the great outdoors!
Once ant free, we walked for many more miles to Pedaroa, where we stopped at a cafe for lunch. My digestive system rejoiced to see fresh salad on the menu, which I ordered with an Aperol spritz. Here we met a driver from the trekking company, who came to drive us to an alternate trail to our next rifugio, Rifugio Lavarella. It was a bit disappointing to not be able to stay in the mountains and on the trail, but alpine trekking in the early summer is always dependent on snow. We had started our trek on June 20, which is the very beginning of the trekking season in the Dolomites. Just as it started to rain, the driver dropped us off at the trailhead, which happened to be at a mountain hut, Ücia Pederü. We didn’t hesitate to seek shelter indoors, and hoped to wait out the storm while writing postcards over gelato and espresso!
Lunch in Pederoa
After lunch gelato and espresso in Ücia Pederü
Cold and wet walking in the mountains
The drive to Ücia Pederü had taken us up into the mountains, and we were now in an entirely different landscape than we had been earlier in the day. The trail was steep, barren and rocky, and the weather equally daunting. It was hard for me to leave behind the cozy warmth of the cafe... I felt like I was marching to war against the elements.
This stretch was difficult. In the first mile alone we gained almost 900 feet of elevation. I frequently wanted to stop to catch my breath, or to duck under a rock to get out of the rain, but Joey thought it best that we keep moving to stay warm and get to our destination sooner than later. We hiked 4 miles in just 2 hours, which is a pretty quick pace considering the weather, terrain, and 2000 feet of elevation gain. When we reached Rifugio Lavarella, I was absolutely ecstatic to get out of my damp clothes and have a hot shower. Very conveniently, many of the mountain huts include drying rooms where you can hang your wet clothes, and special boot racks that blow warm air into your boots to quickly dry them out.
Rifugio Lavarella also happens to be a brewery, and Europe’s highest altitude microbrewery at that. With my dinner of potatoes and eggs I ordered a pint of delicious beer that had been brewed onsite.
Day 3:
Rifugio Lavarella to Rifugio Lagazuoi
After breakfast and espresso at the rifugio, we packed up and went on our way. We were walking on the wrong path for about 15 minutes before realizing we were headed in the complete opposite direction. Once we found the right trail, we followed it up and out of the lush, alpine oasis setting of Lavarella, and back to rockier mountain terrain. The weather was far more cooperative than yesterday, and the trail brought us over gentle ascents and descents through the mountains for a couple of miles, before reaching a very steep portion of the trail which dropped us down 1000 feet. After 7 miles of hiking, we stopped to rest our knees at the Capanna Alpina hut.
Aperol break at Capanna Alpina (roof dog!?)
Cable tram station up the mountain to Rifugio Lagazuoi
The very steep cable car up to Rifugio Lagazuoi
Once adequately loosened up with Aperol, we carried on walking. The original route would have had us climb back up the opposite side of the valley, (sharply gaining back the 1000+ feet of altitude we had just descended) but because of the snow detour, we instead had a bus to catch. We walked along a boring stretch of road to a bus stop, where we caught a local bus to Passo Falzarego, at the base of Mount Lagazuoi.
At Passo Falzarego, there’s a viewpoint with an old chapel, a few tourist shops, and Falzarego Lagazuoi; the station for the cable car that carries passengers up the mountainside to Rifugio Lagazuoi. There’s was also a hiking path that zig-zags up the nearly vertical mountain to the lookout point and rifugio, which we saw many people dragging themselves up. The path was not part of our original route, and it didn’t look especially scenic or enjoyable, so Joey and I decided to just pay to ride the cable car (which was scenic AND enjoyable) up to the rifugio. The view from the top of Mount Lagazuoi was absolutely stunning... it was like something out of a movie, or from a postcard— one of those places in the world that looks absolutely unreal. I was thrilled to know that we would be staying here for the rest of the afternoon and night. I could take my time soaking up and photographing this magnificent setting, which only got more dramatic as the sun became lower in the sky. I stayed out on the balcony to watch sunset fade into dusk, and crept out of bed during the iciest hours to watch the sun rise and gradually flood the surrounding panorama of mountain peaks with warm morning light.
Rifugio Lagazuoi sits perched on the edge of a mountain
The most stunning mountain view can be seen from every window of Rifugio Lagazuoi.
Even the silverware reminds you that you’re in this spectacular place.
I ate my dinner too fast to take a photo, this was dessert at Rifugio Lagazuoi.
Sunrise in the Dolomites, as seen from the balcony of Rifugio Lagazuoi.
Rifugio Lagazuoi might be the most spectacular place I’ve spent a night.
DAY 4:
Lagazuoi to Corvara
When the time came, I did not want to have to leave Rifugio Lagazuoi… but the trail was calling! Today’s walk would take us all the way back to where we started, in Corvara, so I assumed that it would be any easy day of downhill walking. You really can’t make assumptions when hiking in the Dolomites— if you assume that your hike will be “quick” or “easy”— you’ll always be proven wrong. As usual we had a late start leaving the Rifugio, so we decided to ride the cable car back down the mountain to get a head start on the eleven miles we had to walk today.
Shot on Ektachrome slide film
After walking through these World War 1 trenches, we became lost.
Where is the trail? OH… THIS IS THE TRAIL.
The map should say “Good luck not getting lost!” Our Day 4 map.
After a mile, the trail intersected with a maze of old World War 1 trenches, which we walked through for a while before realizing that we had become lost. At times navigation was challenging, but using both our primitive paper topographic map and offline maps on my phone, I eventually found the way, and was relieved to confirm it once finding the correct trail marking painted on a rock. We were seeing fewer and fewer people on the trail, and the weather became cold and started to rain intermittently. It was the familiar hiking scenario where it would become too cold and wet to be able to hike without a rain shell, but when I’d finally stop to put on a jacket, I’d only make it a few minutes before the rain would stop and I’d find myself overheating and needing to stop again to take the jacket off. Eventually the intermittent rain gave way to a full-on rainstorm, which then escalated to a hail storm. We were walking in a barren, rocky, mountain-scape, and there wasn’t a single structure, or even tree, under which we could take cover from the pea-sized balls of ice falling from the sky. I felt pretty nervous, and wanted to duck against the side of a boulder to wait out the storm… but stopping meant getting wetter and colder. I put on my beanie to pad on my head from the hail balls, and kept moving.
After weathering the hail storm, and miles of scrambling across fields of boulders (and somehow managing not to break an ankle), the rocky landscape of the Setsas Range melted away into the gentle grassy hills of the Pralongia Plateau. I was massively relieved to see built structures in the distance, one of which was the Pralongia Rifugio. Just a mile and a half more walking and we reached the rifugio, and what I felt was our most deserved lunch stop of the entire trek. As we arrived it again stared pouring rain, so we walked our soggy selves and muddy boots inside the warm and cozy rifugio. For lunch I ordered hot soup and dessert, with an Aperol Spritz and espresso ☺.
Quite the sight for sore eyes after miles of walking through boulder fields in a hail storm; Pralongia Rifugio
Our server identifies each item in Joey’s dessert sampler at lunch.
For the final 3 or 4 miles back to Corvara, I felt like a walking machine. We kept walking through the alpine meadows, hills that during the winter would be the slopes of various ski resorts. I would not think that the chair lifts would be operational during this time of year, but for some reason several of them were on, with empty chairs humming along above us on their cables. We did not see a single person using (or operating) the lifts, and the whole area felt eerily empty. The lack of other people and trekkers was probably a big advantage of trekking during the early season, with the trail closures and frequent rain and hail storms being the major trade-off.
The final stretch to Corvara (shot on Ektachrome slide film)
Long at last, we had come 11 miles and made it back in Corvara. Our rental car full of belongings and clean clothes, as well as a hot shower (and full sauna experience) at our guesthouse, awaited us. The sauna even included a hot foot bath, which was the most heavenly treat for my feet, which I had put through hell over these past few days. Shout out to my Lowa Renegade hiking boots, which kept my feet completely blister free!
I had a very full itinerary on either side of this trek, and we didn’t have much downtime. After washing up, we jumped into the rental car and I drove out of the mountains and south to Venice. After all of the walking, three hours of sitting in the car was a welcome relief. Joey and I checked into a hotel in Venice for the night, from where I would catch a plane home the next day, and Joey would continue his travels around Italy to Switzerland.
Illustrated map with several of the rifugios we stopped at along our trek highlighted.