A ride through the mighty Dolomites
Neil Ratley is spellbound at the immense awesomeness and beauty surrounding him on a journey through northern Italy.
The ground plunges away hundreds of metres to the valley floor below. In the distance, clouds are playing hide and seek behind majestic peaks. High on a ridgeline, my path is blocked by a surly looking goat, its wide eyes unblinking and piercing.
Hunched over I take deep breaths, and sense the cast of judgment from the ruminant in regards to my alpine skills. The goat eventually shakes its wisened and bearded head and swaggers off. The dull clang from a bell around its neck lingers in the fresh mountain air.
I’m standing on the edge of the Italian Dolomites, wading through an emerald meadow awash with yellow, purple, red and white blooms. On one side of the path is a sheer drop down to the Val di Funes and on the other, the sweeping slopes of Alpe di Cisles slide down to the Val di Gardena.
It’s late spring in northern Italy, and I’m hiking the spine running between the summit of Seceda and the jagged spires of the Odle group in the PuezOdle National Park. It is the natural border between the beautiful and famous Gardena and Funes valleys.
It’s been a steep and steady climb to reach the top of Seceda (2519m). I set off on my ascent from the village of Santa Cristina, in the shadows of some of the Val Gardena Dolomites’ most famous mountains – the Sella Massif, Mt Sassolungo and Mt Sasso Piatto.
My passage hardly elicits a reaction from small tribes of chiming goats and herds of cud-chewing cattle. The morning sun and I both keep rising and the towers and massifs – many still snow-capped – edge out of the shadow and begin to bask and sparkle in radiant sunshine.
The Odle group forms a dramatic line of rising peaks. I follow the trail along the ridge towards Sass Rigais and Furchetta – the highest in the chain. Clouds roll in from the Funes valley and bank up against the pinnacles. It’s a scene that reinforces how the mountains can cause weather patterns to change from one valley to the next.
I’m spending a week in the Dolomites combining a love of motorcycling and hiking. The towering groups of mountains found in an area covering about 1500 square kilometres form a labyrinth of rock walls, valleys, forests, alpine pastures, meadows filled with wildflowers, and raging rivers.
However, exploring the Dolomites is relatively easy if you have your own transport. Wellmaintained roads twist and carve their way over the mountain passes, and the number of hairpin bends makes it a rider’s or driver’s paradise.
The Sella Ronda is a 66km route that encircles the Sella Massif and winds its way over the passes of Pordoi, Campolongo, Gardena, and Sella. In the morning when the sun begins to poke its nose over the snow-capped Marmolada – the Queen of the Dolomites – I begin my ascent up Passo Pordoi. It’s a dizzying experience.
The climb and subsequent descent will mean negotiating a total of 66 hairpins over 21km. I emerge from the cool of the conifers into the dazzling sunshine and zigzag my way to the top, where I park the bike and breathe in the views. Passo Pordoi (2239m) is also the access point for the Sass Pordoi cable car.
The free-hanging cable car carries me smoothly through the drifting clusters of puffy clouds to the panoramic summit of Sass Pordoi (2952m).
Snow and ice still cover the moonscape plateau, and the temperature has dropped noticeably. However, a warm espresso and freshly baked apple strudel – my favourite cultural legacy of the
Fact file Getting there: Flights are available from New Zealand to several European hubs. The Dolomites are in northern Italy on the border with Austria and can be accessed via air, rail or road depending on which hub you arrive at. When to visit: For hiking late spring, summer and autumn. Spring brings blooming wildflowers and fewer crowds. Summer is the height of the cultural celebrations and festivals. Autumn is the golden season in the Dolomites. Winter brings the ski season. Touring there: There are scores of tour operators offering all kinds of adventures in the Dolomites. These include guided hiking, climbing (including the vie ferrate) and skiing. If you are an experienced hiker, climber or skier it is possible to explore the area independently. For those wanting to explore on wheels, renting bicycles, motorcycles and cars is an option. Staying there: There is no shortage of accommodation in the Dolomites and all the main towns and villages have options from the most basic to most luxurious. In addition, there are countless rifugios (plush mountain huts) in the mountains themselves.
Hapsburg’s reign in the region – along with the magnificent and expansive 360-degree views across the Dolomites, keep the frosty bite at bay.
The Dolomites are geographically and culturally at a crossroads between Italy to the south and Tyrol to the north. The Tyrol was part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire until the early 20th century but after fierce fighting during World War I the southern region became part of Italy.
The border was, and continues to be, more political than cultural. Mussolini attempted to ‘‘Italianise’’ the area by forbidding German and pushing through Italian vocabulary and culture.
However, the medieval pointed arches and frescoed wooden chalets make it feel very much like the fascist dictator failed to exert his influence.
On the summits and slopes of these beautiful mountains, the scars from the alpine battles remain in the form of coils of barbed wire, trenches hewn from the hard rock and tunnels that burrow into the mountains. Many areas are now open-air museums to be explored.
Another remnant of the war is the vie ferrate or iron paths. To help troops move about at high altitude in challenging conditions, permanent lines were fixed to rock faces, and ladders were installed so that troops could ascend steep faces.
Today, the precipitous routes – equipped with steel cables, ladders, wooden walkways, and suspended bridges – are a magnet for alpinists.
The exposed high ways are accessible even to inexperienced climbers with a guide or knowledgeable climber. This means you don’t need to be Italian mountaineer Reinhold Messner to hike on narrow ledges, climb vertical walls, and reach the peaks of daunting mountains.
On the road, the signs have been written in three languages. Two I have seen often enough to recognise as Italian and German. The third is completely foreign to me, but I learn it is a legacy of the Roman conquest of the area. In 1 AD, the Romans invaded the Alps and remnants of their culture and Latin language remain. Ladin is still spoken in the Ladin villages of the Dolomites.
From the wooden balcony of a traditional Gasthof, I look across the green fields flowing down to the village of Corvara sitting under the watchful gaze of Sassongher, a mountain affectionately called La Madonna (the mother) by the locals.
The sun is sinking behind the sheer dolomite walls hemming in the Ladin valley of Alta Badia, and the sky is on fire, burning amber then crimson. The lights from the village begin to twinkle like a scene from a fairy tale.
In the warmth of the guest house, I sit down to a simple meal of vegetable broth, canederli (bread dumplings) filled with tangy cheese and speck (the treasured and distinctly flavoured, smoked and cured ham from the Sudtirol), and tutres (fried dough) filled with sauerkraut or spinach.
These are staples of the Ladin cuisine. It’s delicious and hearty stuff with its roots in mountain farming – when the region was a poor agricultural area and ingredients were sparse and simple.
I ride over more majestic passes, including Falzarego and Giau, and down through the pine trees to the town of Cortina d’ Ampezzo. In winter, Cortina is a ski haven for the rich and famous as the population swells from 7000 to 50,000, but in spring and autumn, it is sleepy, and the splendour of the architecture and surroundings can be savoured serenely.
Stone church spires and piazzas are framed by magnificent alps. It’s a perfect base for hiking some of the most well-known areas of the Dolomites.
The Dito di Dio (finger of God) emerges from the thick mist and points to the heavens. The finger rises from the crystalline blue waters of Lago di