As I sip a frothy cappuccino on a mountaintop hut, it’s hard to believe that I arrived here from the Adriatic coast of Croatia by my own leg power. The morning sun is shining brightly, piercing its rays through the windows of the Pedrotti hut that sits at 2491 meters (8172 ft). There are no roads up here; just trails and Via Ferrara cables that traverse the jagged mountains. Supplies are brought in on an aerial cable car and by helicopter. We have made it to the Brenta Dolomites.
When we first started our bike tour in Croatia, I thought I would never make it up a mountain pass with my heavily loaded bike. The thought of it made me want to cry, and I considered just staying on an island in Croatia. Although it would be lovely to kick back for a couple months on the Dalmatian Islands, bike touring has a way of pushing you forward. Each day you are drawn to continue riding and see what lies beyond the next bend. The yearning to keep going is strong. And so, the rhythmic movement of pedaling has become our norm.
Our journey has taken us from the Dalmatian Islands to the Istrian peninsula, across Slovenia and now to the Dolomites of Italy. Since crossing into Italy from the Julian Alps of Slovenia, we have pedaled up and over 9 mountain passes and we have climbed a total elevation of 22,860 meters (75,000 ft). I haven’t cried once.*
The Dolomites can cause you to be overcome by your emotions, however. They are dramatic. They are majestic. Exploring them can be dangerous. We made our way right into the heart of them and felt their grandiose presence all around us. These mountains have a way of enveloping you from every side, making you feel that you are right in the center of them at every turn. We were on the go every day and for a week we gazed up at a 360 degree view of the skyscraper rocks surrounding us. Their unique beauty was breathtaking.
There are so many ways to enjoy these mountains. Be it a drive, bike ride, motorbike ride, hike, climb, ski, mountain bike, paraglide or just simply sitting in a field of wildflowers at the base of them; One thing is for sure: they will captivate you.
At the top of every mountain pass is a rifugio, or hut, that offers a warm place to rest and a full restaurant and bar to fill your belly. Many also offer simple lodging. When I think about our mountain passes back home, I find these rifugi fascinating (rifugio is singular/ rifugi is plural). Our Colorado mountains usually have a sign with the elevation posted at the top and a place to pull your car off the road so you can take a picture. Maybe there is an outhouse. But that is usually it.
The rifugi in Italy are scattered all over the mountains, both on passes that can be accessed by car and some that can only be accessed by cable car or by foot.
The origin of some of these rifugi date back to the late 1800’s. Many of them offered protection for soldiers during the First World War when the Italians fought the Austro-Hungarians all through the winter in these cold and dangerous mountains. After the 1950s, skiing became recreational and the rifugi were used for tourism. This is when the construction of gondolas, trams and chairlifts began. By the 1980s, skiing was a booming industry and humble villages like Madonna di Campiglio and Cortina D’Ampezzo were transformed into trendy ski resort towns.
The rifugi are part of the recreational culture here. Summer and winter, they provide temporary shelter and a hot meal to anyone. Some also offer overnight lodging, which can be reserved ahead during the busy season. Mountaineers, rock climbers and backcountry skiers use rifugi as a base camp for high elevation adventures. There are also several hut to hut routes for hiking and mountain biking.
Some of these high alpine huts were built on the peaks of jagged mountains, in places that seem so precarious and so difficult to access. It’s hard to fathom how they were constructed in such extreme conditions.
The huts that offer lodging range from very basic with a big room full of bunks and an outdoor toilet, to “luxury huts” with private bedrooms and bathrooms with hot showers. The thing that remains constant is the hearty food that is served, and often the most basic huts cook up the best tasting dishes.
Potatoes, Gorgonzola, goulash and wild mushrooms at Rifugio Pedrotti
We have taken advantage of these Italian huts both for shelter from the rain and for a hot meal. From Cortina D’Ampezzo we took a tram to a Rifugio that is on the luxury end of the rifugi spectrum. We were the only guests at Rifugio La Faloria and we were spoiled with a private bedroom with a balcony. It felt more like a mountain lodge than a rustic hut.
At the top of Passo Valparola, we sought shelter from the rain at the pass’ eponymous Rifugio. In addition to warming us up, we enjoyed a delicious meal of polenta, foraged mushrooms and minestrone soup.
We appreciated these rifugi so much that we made it a mission to find huts even higher in the mountains that we could hike to.
This brings me to where we are now, at one of the highest huts in the Dolomites. We hiked for two days to get here, stopping the first day at another Rifugio (Selvata) about 1000 meters below. A half pension includes a bed, dinner and breakfast the next morning. All you need to bring with you is a sleeping bag liner and clothes, so a day pack is more than sufficient. This hut sleeps 120, with 4 bunks per room and shared bathrooms (indoors).
The Pedrotti Rifugio is run by a family of 4, plus employees to help with cooking, cleaning and other duties. It’s clear that Mom, Dad, son and daughter are badass mountaineers. They must be to live so high up and isolated amidst the harsh elements. They live up here in the summer months and then again for 4 months in the winter. They say “It’s a difficult life, but it’s a peaceful life.” Indeed, even in mid June it was at times bitter cold outside, but the feeling of being on a mountaintop makes you feel so alive.
Hiking to the rifugi gave us a sense of being completely immersed in the jagged peaks. We stepped lightly and traversed snow fields that still hadn’t yet melted from the heavy winter. Every mile we covered offered an incredible view from a different perspective. I still feel their impact on my body with every muscle fiber in my legs that ache from 6000 vertical feet of ascending on the steep, rocky trails.
After biking and hiking up and over, in and around these spectacular mountains I know that I have only scratched the surface. There is so much more to explore and so many more rifugi that offer shelter and a warm meal. Alas, I have another reason to keep returning to this amazing country!
*Ok, so I did come close to crying one time: It was a hot afternoon and what we thought would be an easy spin turned out to be a long, grueling climb (we gained 990 meters/3250 feet, more than many of the mountain passes). I pushed until I couldn’t go any further and basically collapsed near a church in a park. I had nothing left in me and was close to tears because we still had 7 miles and more climbing to get to the campground in Molveno. Nearby was a restaurant, and we decided to just ask if we could camp in the park. We were welcomed in by the sympathetic owner who treated us like her own children. She sat us down at a table and quickly brought out water, wine, cheese, salami, prosciutto, beans, salad and potato cakes (An Alto Adige specialty). She assured us that we could stay as long as we like and that it would be fine to sleep in the park. We took our time enjoying the hearty spread of food. We watched in awe as the restaurant filled up with patrons and the team of husband, wife and son (who couldn’t have been older than 14) zipped around and fed at least 50 people. Happy, tired and full, we slept in the park and finished the last part of our climb to Molveno the next morning. (No tears!)
