“Ferrata delle Trincee” that was the name of our last hike (after two weeks in Solden Austria and a week in Italy) – the date 09/09/09 and I’ll never forget it. There are not enough adjectives in the dictionary to describe the thrill and awe of this full day in the mountains with the owner of the hotel of which we were staying – Michael, of WanderHotel Europa. No wonder the Italians are so proud of their Dolomites. The views are spectacular where ever you walk, sit, enjoy coffee, hike or climb.
It all started with a last minute retrieval of safety equipment. My brother Rick and I had never hiked “via ferrata” which means “Iron Way” in Italian. Michael takes his guests on routine hikes that range from 10 kilometers to as many as 18. Additionally, they include ascents of up to 1500 meters and or descents of up to 3000 meters (often you are airlifted via a “gondola” to a higher elevation to start your day.)
But this day was different. It was Michael’s day off. He wanted to hike without the group and wanted to thank my brother for coming back as a repeat customer. Rick is an enthusiastic maniac when it comes to the mountains, later on that in a moment. We were to meet Michael at 0700am. Neither of us had slept much as the sheer excitement of our first rock climb was at daybreak. We jumped into Michael’s new Audi (a machine made for Europe with it’s “Quattro” wheel technology) and took off to this mammoth of a mountain. The ride (an hour) was a thrill in itself. Mind-boggling curves, views, speed and control is what this 60-minute ride delivered while going through multiple quaint and beautiful Italian towns.
Exactly on the hour we arrived. There was a chill in the air, the clouds were low and we couldn’t even see where we were to climb. In hindsight, that was a good thing. We were in long pants, full-length shirt and jacket, pack, polls and a liter and half of water. Off we go, straight up. Within 10 minutes we were shedding the long sleeve jackets and rolling up the shirtsleeves. After a brief stop, it was onwards and upwards. Nonstop upwards. An hour later Michael said we had reached our first level with only one more to go. My face is drenched in sweat, my glasses are on my head as the heat from my breath and cold from the air rendered them virtually useless. I’m thinking to my self, great we’re half way there — not exactly.
The clouds were beginning to break. Far off in the distance I could see the top of an amazing mountain. I can honestly tell you that not for a moment did I think we could get there, or we were going there, or were going to climb that monster in a day much less at all. I just put my head down and plowed upwards. Michael has grown up in these mountains and for him it was a cakewalk. For myself however, the lactic acid in my muscles was beginning to burn. The kind you think is good for you as you push your outer limits. Even my brother Rick was dripping in sweat and kept looking back at me as in somewhat disbelief. As we continued onwards the clouds had given a clear picture of this behemoth of a mountain. I’m thinking he’s got to be kidding. Michael said there it is, we just need to beat that group of (10 hikers) ahead of us to the starting point so we need to move. Both Rick and I looked at each other and all enthusiasm was replaced with fear. Plane and simple, we were scared but not about to show it. Fatigued had already set in and we needed to hustle to the “via ferrata” hiking point before this group. I might add they were a good 200 yards ahead of us on a steep ascent.
Michael chose to abandon the trail and chose the straight line to our launching pad. Absolutely brutal, I was sucking air now more than ever. Big deep breadths when I could gather them. Finally after 150 minutes of burning and churning up the mountain we beat this group by a hair. I was surprised we climbed as fast as we did for how far we had come and the ascent of which was the steepest in our three weeks and estimated 80 miles of hiking. It’s amazing what a little testosterone, adrenaline and ego will do to get you where you need to be. We weren’t about to show weakness, no way, no how, period. After all the easy part (ha!) was over. Now it was time to buckle up, strap on the gear, bust out the helmet and start an absolute vertical ascent via iron cables built by the Italian military during World War I.
As a treat we received a heck of a history lesson from Michael. Their military used these mountains to protect their country from the enemy. At the top of these jaw dropping peaks were caves that the survivors lived in for four years during the war. Many lives were lost in these mountains and you can see why. A simple slip and a life is lost. Imagine dodging bullets and aircraft fire while trying not to fall off 1000 ft drop at 8500 ft. During storms the cables were a risky option. If just one bolt of lightning struck the cable the jolt would rip through the entire cable (top to bottom) killing anyone that may have had their grip on it. During the winter it was like holding on to ice and in the rain, equally as difficult. But they did, and they survived at least many of them. And by god, if they could in those conditions, that long ago we could today. Yeah right.
Rick was right behind Michael. In a crash course to beat the group ahead my brother didn’t quite catch on as fast as he wanted. After all, it was a straight vertical no easy rocks jetting out and he found himself in a quandary. Fortunately, the guide from the group recognized Rick was no pro. As he struggled, the guide explained the technique and pushed his right foot into a slot that would give him a break to grab his cleavers and move them upwards. Needless to say all that huffing and puffing up the mountain didn’t help because we were both exhausted. We let the group pass us up on the first possible ledge. The pressure was now off and Rick got clearer guidance from Michael. He suggested that Rick follow him and I follow Rick. I love my brother but is this a good idea I’m thinking? If he slips, I’m history. I agreed and Rick caught on and did well. Our first “iron way ascent” took the better part of 45 minutes to reach the top. Shortly thereafter was a bridge built between two peaks in 1916. We crossed it with beaming smiles. We had made it. Were we done? Not even. Another three hours of rock climbing and hiking prevailed as we scaled and descended in different points that dropped off into oblivion. Our final destination at the top was to reach a WWI tunnel that was 100 meters in length. You could see various points of machine gunning, areas to sleep or hide out and exits to run to if needed. We celebrated, ate a sandwich, said a prayer and descended and hiked another 5 miles to our car. All in all it was an amazing day. One in a lifetime sounds like a cliché but it was exactly that, a one in a lifetime experience. Thank you Michael, my brother Rick and above all God. If you aren’t using certificates to travel with you might want to check out this site http://vacationtravelcertificates.com
No comments:
Post a Comment