Alpe di Sennes Circuit

 Monday morning we awoke to the church bells tolling in a perfectly blue mountain sky.  The surrounding peaks were wreathed in mist that would soon burn off.  This is it.  Our day to hike.  One of the concierges at our hotel (an avid hiker) told us the first day.  "Ahhh, that hike, the Sennes, and the other Lago Sorapis...yes, beautiful.  You can go do them right now.  Why not?"  This was at 2:30 in the afternoon and it was about to rain.  Today however?  We go.  First we try Alpe di Sennes circuit.  

"This one," Pam says, "is 6 miles.  It is the hike that everyone takes in the beginning."  So we drive the little Panda up the scary, twisting, one-lane road back to the Rifugio Malga Ra Stua, grab our packs, and head off down the jeep road toward the huge mountains in front of us.  We hike a mile in to a beautiful, green alpine meadow surrounded by massive peaks.  In the middle of the meadow is what appears to be another rifugio, but could be someone's house.  At the crossroads in the foot of the meadow, we start up the jeep road to the left.  "So, we'll go up this side of the mountain in front of us," I say, "and finish by coming down the other side."  Pam is already well in front of me.  "It's a circuit.  We go around," she calls over her shoulder.  The guide book says,

This is the western portion of the Alpe di Sennes Circuit. The trail runs beneath the dramatic crags of the Croda Rossa mountains and passes through two stunning nature parks—the Dolomiti D’Ampezzo and the Fanes-Sennes-Braies. Beginning at 5,472’, we’ll cross over landscapes of marshlands, verdant valleys, and stark alpine slopes, eventually reaching an altitude of 6,942 feet. We'll return to our starting point via a World War I mule track. 

We start up the jeep road and very quicklly it turns steep...very steep.  A jeep track?  During WWI the Italians and the Austrians fought to control this mountainous area.  In addition to killing one another, many soldiers were killed by the terrain and alpine weather.  As we trudge up and up, every turn in the road steeper than the last, we stop to breathe and read memorials to soldiers and indeed companies of men killed by avalanche and bitter winter weather.  As I stop at yet another vista for a picture, Pam says, "We have a long way to go and we're not making very good time."  "Are we on a schedule?" I ask.  "No but the guide book says we should be able to do this in 5 and a half hours and look where we are."  She pulls out a map and it looks like we've barely begun but feels as if we've been hiking for hours.

Finally we break off the jeep road and begin to hike along a mountain track through beautiful meadows.  The views are stunning and the sky is a cloudless deep blue.  We go down into a valley (always a danger in the beginning of a hike), and then begin to climb again...up and up.  At about 2:00 we reach another Rifugio at the end of a long climb.  "I think we have to go up from here and then out across that trail you can see to the right.  I think we should stop here for some tea and apple strudel."  That sounds good to me.

After "lunch" we start up again.  "So we are going around this mountain in the center right?"  "Yes," Pam replies as if that was understood from the beginning.  "We're doing a circuit."  We climb for another hour or two, views opening up as we go.  Finally we see the Rifugio that signals where our journey will begin to turn downhill.  It is no relief for now the downhill is unremitting and steep (of course, it was steep coming up!).  We pass a lake and look for the red and white marks on rocks that mark our trail.  Down, down, down we go and then up some more and then we begin our final descent that even the book describes as unremittingly difficult.  This is the mule track.  Far, far below we see the road we will eventually join.  It looks like a pencil mark in the trees.  "If this is the beginning hike in the Dolomites, I think I could never do a more difficult one."  "Oh," says Pam, "no...beginning means that part of this hike is what people do to get up and then they hike from refugio to refugio and stay up for days."  "Ohhh," I say, "so not a lot of folks just do this as a day hike.  It seems much longer than six miles."  Pam stops and pulls out her hiking book.  "It's not six miles, it's ten and a half."  "Oh," I say, and turn back downhill, careful to navigate the two-foot drops between each set of roots or rocks.

Our knees are screaming.  At one point I repeat the exclamation with which a Frenchman greeted us as we passed--he going up, we coming down on a part of the Mont Blanc Circuit in Switzerland.  "SACRE BLEU!  DUR!  DUR!"  Good God!  Hard!  Hard!  Finally we reach the jeep track leading back to the Panda and Rifugio Malga Ra Stua.  Afternoon shadows stretch across the valley and the sun has disappeared behind the tall mountains.  I look at the time and announce it to Pam.  "Oh," she says.  "We did really well.  Only 30 minutes longer than what the guide books says."  "Good.  I think we did really well and it was so beautiful," I say, "but honestly, I feel as if I've been hiking all day long."

After a shower, a plate of french fries, a bottle of wine and a pizza we call it a day.  And what a day it was!

Pictures from our hike:  from the meadow where we started to the beginning of the Mule Track.

Rest stop just before climbing to our lunch at Refugio Sennes.

Bar stools where we had lunch!

From here we will begin our descent...

Top the rise and then down, down, down

- See more at: http://www.nationalgeographicexpeditions.com/expeditions/italy-dolomite-hiking-adventure/detail#sthash.gNstpGgA.dpuf

Oh Dolomiti

This morning we awoke to the ringing of the huge church bells across the way from our room.  The next thing we noticed was the soft patter of rain on the metal roof outside our window.  It was enough to send us back to sleep for another hour.  When we awoke a second time, we read, showered and went down several floors to breakfast:  cappuccino, croissants, warm honey, and several slices of a lovely, light breakfast pastry.  Pam kept us entertained pushing buttons on the juice dispenser and not having her glass in just the right place.  After several tries, she was a pro.

Then we decided, since hiking wasn't really an option, to be flaneurs in true French style.  I'm sure there is a word for it in Italian, but we just know how to do this in French...strolling.  Taking an umbrella from the Montana's lobby, out we went just as the congregation from the church across the street let out into the cobbled roadway.  Imagine our surprise, when in addition to families and assorted old men and women, a whole entourage of people of both genders emerged with instruments in traditional dress.  For an hour we saw various members of this group around town...going home, stopping to talk, or trouping in to one of the many cafes around town.

The town is truly beautiful, rain or shine.  All of the gear shops are closed until tomorrow afternoon.  In the few shops open on Sunday, lights were just beginning to come on sometime between 11 and noon.  After awhile, we rolled on home and read for another hour as the rain continued to fall.  

Thinking this would be a good time to drive up the mountain to see what we could see, we loaded into the little bear and put her through her paces (that means shifting up and down from second to third to fourth over and over again).  We were looking for a large lake, but never found it.  Both going up and coming down the mountain we were on track to find the town--Misurina--where the lake lies at its foot.  We came within 2 Km both ways, but then seemingly lost the town (where did it go?), and never saw the lake.

Returning to Cortina, we parked the Panda, and walked in the rain to what has become our favorite cafe.  We had some wine, conversation, and then strolled on home.  Now it's time for me to get slicked up as we are going to dinner at a place our concierge describes as "Fantastico!"  We look forward to our meal and hold great hope that the sun shines enough to hike tomorrow.  Ciao!  B 'n P

Coming out of church

Furling the flag...

Local door handle

Mail and newspapaer box at the Montana

Balcony

The bell tower next door

Sheep enjoying fall grass, the rain, and a good chew

Road through the Dolomites in the rain

Fall coming to the mountains...lots of larch trees and some maples around town

From the Sea to the Mountains

This morning we boarded the vaporetto for the last time, and took the waterways to the train station.  We left with heavy hearts, assuring one another that "...one full week in Venice and we would know our way around semi-comfortably."  So much culture, good wine, plays, museums...but no, maybe for some other time.  At the train station we went right to EuropeCar (having scoped it out the night before), presented our papers, and 20 minutes later drove into Venitian traffic in our little Fiat Panda.  How nice to have a little, silver bear as we struck out for the Dolomite mountains.  

The little silver Fiat Panda is a 5-speed stick.  Without thinking, I step on the brake, turn the key and almost buck the cub right through the wall in front of me.  Stick shift.  I love this (now that I'm paying attention).  The roads are clear and mostly wide until we turn up toward the mountains and Cortina.  Even then, they are two-lane, winding tarmac.  Fun to go through the gears.  Two hours later, with flawless navigation (provided by Pam, of course) we arrive in Cortina.  This is a mountain town somewhat on the order of Aspen or Breckenridge.  There are tourists here as the season turns to fall, but the mainstay of the town is the ski folk who will come to the neighboring ski areas in another month or so.  

Installed in our chalet-style room in the Hotel Montana (very close to the bell tower of the church next door--WOW!!) Pam shows me all of the errors I made in last night's blog.  Mama, Mia!  Spelling, wrong words, bad grammar, and a misidentification of a restaurant for Carol 'n Jim (so sorry).  In a blog filled with pictures, I did it all.  So, just now she says, "Are you fixing your blog, Bonnie?"  "No," I tell her.  I figure if I apologize, own up to what I did, I'll just leave it as is.  Fatto! (done).

After we unpack, we reconnoiter.  Some of the streets are cobbled in brick.  I think that means no cars here...so we walk up and downhill.  Eventually we stop in a cafe for lunch, then return to our hotel, quietly humming "Hotel Calfornia."  The Hotel Montana is definitely not like the song, but such a lovely place, indeed.  

For our next adventure, we head out of town in the Panda to locate a couple of trailheads for tomorrow's hiking adventures.  By this time, the weather has closed down and it is raining off and on.  The road twists up, and up...We pass longhaired, horned sheep in a meadow, some beautiful Refugios (places to get coffee, a meal, or stay overnight)...and are passed by at least 10 cars speeding up the mountain.  After locating one trailhead, we come back down the mountain to find the other trailhead on the far side of town.  "I'm not sure about the road," says Pam as we wind steeper and steeper.  "Oh, turn up here!"  I do and now, we are on a one lane, paved road up the side of a mountain.  "I sure hope this isn't one way," I say gingerly rounding a sharp turn and shifting down into second gear.  "I dunno," she says.  Suddenly, another car appears coming DOWN the road.  It pulls to the side into what is not quite large enough to be called a turnout.  We squeak past.  The driver flashes his lights and waves.  We pass a family walking down the road.  They move to the side.  Another car comes head on around a curve...this time I pull over.  The driver waves.  I wave back.  "Well, no one seems to be gesticulating wildly...so I guess this is the right way."  "Just be careful," replies Pam.  No kidding!

Finally, we reach a parking lot.  To the side of the lot are gold spotted cows complete with bells on their necks.  The refugio sits next to the trail head, and the rain is really coming down.  Inside, the refugio is warm and dry.  We order cappuccino coffees and as we sip and savor, a one year old girl crawls up to our table, hauls herself up by Pam's chair and says, "Ciao!"  

Coming back down the mountain road seems so much easier than our ascending trip.  Tomorrow, hopefully, it will feel like a routine drive.  The rain continues to fall outside our window.  The church bells strike out the half hour, and we are content and snug.  The little Panda is locked and parked for the night, awaiting tomorrow's adventure.  From the Dolomite Mountains in Cortina...Ciao!  BB n P

      Leaving Venice 

Fiat Panda...the little bear!

The Hotel Montana

Sun breaks through and we see some of the Dolomites for the first time.

   The Refugio, trail head at top of parking lot.  Cows are off to the left.

PS:  for those of you who like boots n gear stores we have all of these a plenty in Cortina--Patagonia, North Face, Woolrich, and several Italian gear stores. If you love Lowa hiking boots, check out the colors. WAAAAHOOO!

Last Night in Venice...the Food Tour

Today dawned cloudy with sprinkles off and on.  It soon became apparent that today was my day for travel stomach, and so I spent a good deal of the day in bed sleeping.  Pam, ever gentle and kind, toured our San Marco neighborhood listening to music, checking on river boat tickets and generally being patient.  At about 3:30, we ventured forth together with me being none the worse for wear.  Soon we were off on a crowded river taxi to meet Monica the food guide for a wine and tapas tour.  In addition to delicious food and wine, we learned more about the city of Venice and its inhabitants.  Here are our evening pictures from the places we wandered to...through back alleys, into the first Jewish Ghetto, over bridges following Monica like ducklings.  There were eight of us on the tour and by the time the night was done, we had tasted,listened, walked, and wended our way again through Venetian culture.  Tomorrow back to the train station to  pick up our rental car, then driving out of the city to explore the Dolomite mountains.  Ciao!  Bonnie & Pam

The bridge of sighs...over which prisioners passed from there sentencing in the Doges palace on the left to prison (or worse) on the right.

One of the restaurants we passed in a back street on our wine/tapas tour.

Sign announcing the street and communial living space in the first ever Jewish Ghetto

Jewish restaurateurs telling goys, "We are closed for a private party tonight..."

The only bridge in Venice without a railing...it leads to a private residence.Another back street we walked down.

Shop making tools for gondaliers.  Her are oar locks...each individually crafted for a particular gondalier.  The oar locks take 40 hours to make.  Each gondalier uses only one oar.  He rows and controld from the back left side of the boat.  The oar lock is mounted on the back right.

This is for Carol and Jim...we didn't eat here,

but we did pass by on our way to somewhere else.

A Very Full Day in Venice

"Ehhh, so Venice is very old-ah.  It is the connector between so much of-a the Byzantine Empire and Europe, no?  Ahhh...so in the very olden times, Venice was independent.  A city state built upon many islands.  These islands, eh?  They were connected by bridges and the merchants built houses supported by pilings driving down 7 meters-ah.  They drove the pilings by hand.  These merchants-ah they traveled the world--to Constantinople, Africa, Egypt.  You see?"  And so began our wonderful 4 hour tour with Anotnelle.  Historian, story teller, guide, and personable Venetian.  We were with her from 9:00 to 1:00 and then she left us.  "Follow signs for Acedemia bridge, eh?  Then you will just walk there back to your hotel."  We, of course got very lost, but it's all in the wonderful world of travel adventure.  At our hotel we rested for a few hours then walked to a wonderul, tiny restaurant down a back alley.  The restaurant seated 13.  Co Vino...we loved it.  Drank organic wine, ate delicious food, and then walked back to see what San Marco Square looked like at night.  Enchanting.  Here are some pictures from the day...and until early tomorrow a.m. from San Marco Square, Ciao!  BB n P...

Doges Palace (governor or mayor) with a sculpted Doge kneeling to the Winged Lion of Venice.  The Doge represents a politicial leader elected by the people...the Lion represents the people.

Boats on Venetian "streets" or waterways.

Gargoyle and doorway

One of the many mask shops that supply celebrants for Carnivale.

Woman in a window

One of the more than 100 bridges connecting the islands that make up Venice.

A small boat yard where gondolas are made and refurbished.  Crafting a gondola is difficult due to the need to balance and torque the boat to one side so that the gondalier rowing from one side in the badk does not cause the boat to turn in circles.

One of the narrow streets.

 And finally at lunch, 

Happy Birthday Jan Borja and all Borjas everywhere!

At Co Vino for dinner!  Good pick, Pam.  Yeah, it's OK if you wear my scarf.

San Marco at night...St. Mark is indeed buried in this cathedral.

Back at our front door and home for the night

Denver to Venice...Day 1

30 Sep​ 5:20 pm​ Arrive Venice

Today is Jan Borja's birthday.  We promised Kristin that when we got to Venice, we'd lift a glass of wine to her.  I envisioned an outside cafe, a bottle of rouge, maybe some bread...the sun setting and the lights on land and sea coming on around us. Truly, we toasted in the confines of our room...about the size of one of the bedrooms at the cabin (and this one includes a bathroom...smaller than the cabins.

Taking off from Denver, the frau or fraulein cabin attendant who strapped herself into a jump seat facing me was terrifying.  As we taxied to our runway she looked skyward with deep furrows between her eyes.  As we rumbled down the tarmac, the furrows got deeper.  She closed her eyes.  Her hands seemed to be clasped in prayer.  As we lifted up into the afternoon sky, she looked as if she might cry.  "What does she know that I don't?"  I thought.  "Oh jeez, Lufthansa...the airline whose copilot flew the plane into a mountain.  Is her boyfriend going to crash us?  Did she just break up with someone?"  But finally we were airborn, she unbuckled and went about her business. 

We flew from the stormy skies of Denver, out over the Great Lakes and then eastward, droning on into the black of the night over the Atlantic ocean.  There were a lot of babies on board and they took turns crying through the night.  Some screaming.  Some snuffling.  As soon as one would quiet, others took up the yelling.  The man next to me traveled with his elbows at a 45 degree angle from his body...during drinks, dinner, and the whole  night through.  Pam sat across the aisle, so I had not the comfort of leaning into her away, from this stranger.  I slept on and off with him pressed into my left arm.  Finally it was daylight and we were over the British Isles, and then the mainland of Germany.  

In a few short minutes we'll land in Venice.  I will be glad to escape the confines of Lufthansa Airlines, and Germans in general, food foremost.  For my part I feel like an ugly American already.  As Lee said it would be, the Frankfort airport is huge.  We walked 20 minutes following signs to our gate, only to be met by an airport employee telling us our gate was in the complete opposite direction.  We were two of about 30 people in the same boat.  When we finally reached out gate, it wasn't out gate and we had to walk another 10 minutes to find the correct bay.  On the way, we discovered some lovely lounge chairs and had a nap.  Waking, Pam thought we should get some food and so we walked to the nearest food place.  She had a pork sandwich and I ordered a chopped salad.  It came with bar-b-cued chicken and french fries.  "How's your sandwich?" I asked Pam.  "Fatty..."  Seriously?  I really preferred my stash of M & M peanuts.

Upon our arrival at the Venice airport, Pam had everything well in hand.  As I waited for our bags, she got tickets for the water taxi and an hour and a half later, we arrived at the Ca'dei Dogi Hotel...down two back alleys off the main calle, or street.  As we cruised the waters, the sun went down and we were treated to a beautiful look at Venice as the lights came on.  After climbing the stairs to our room, we opted for the tiny bottle of white wine in the wet bar, a can of Pringles chips and a toast to Jan.  Happy birthday, friend.  You of all people would understand.  Tomorrow we're off on a guided survey tour of Venice, and in the evening?  A special dinner.  Ciao, everyone.  Here are a few shots from our travels.

Well, not really 'cause we're about to depart Denver, but I thought the backdrop and the girl were cute.

Taking off from the airport in the water taxi, I asked a young man sitting at an open window to shoot a photo of the skyline with my iPhone.  "Small," he said,but I liked the light on the water.

Main "Calle" after landing from the water taxi.

 A look at our room that I shot pressed tightly against the door.  Pam reflected in the mirror and the small bathroom just visible on the left.

Happy Birthday, Jan...we'll do ya better tomorrow.

All Our Bags Are Packed...

As John Denver sang, "All our bags are packed, we're ready to go..."  Tomorrow we are off to Italy.  Three weeks of a great adventure that wll take us to Venice, Florence, the Dolomite Mountains, Tuscany, Cinque Terre and who knows where else.  Oh Yeah.  Pam knows because she is our trip planner supreme.  This is my trial blog to make sure that everything is working well and that those of you who want to read the blogs from Italy are seeing what we put up.  As always, if you don't care to travel along, just disregard the emails announcing something new.

We have enjoyed an extraordinary fall here in the Colorado mountains.  The elk rut is in full craziness with visitors and locals alike out and about in the early morning and late afternoon to bask in Aspen gold, and hear the elk bulls bugling.  Here in Little Valley, we have an abundance of aspen trees, and our own resident, handsome, vociferous bull with a harem of cows and calves.  While Lucy is fairly tolerant of coyotes howling and elk bugling the night long, she was wildly upset when a rather large black bear took a stroll on our deck about 1:30 a.m. the other morning.  Between her barking and snarling and my window pounding we did manage to get the bear to turn around by the hot tub and saunter back off the deck to pursue other nocturnal explorations.

Due to clouds and surrounding pine trees, we totally missed the super blood moon Sunday evening, but the Broncos won so we went to bed happy.  Rather than blather on, I need to make sure I can add pictures to the blog, so here is a bit of what our fall looks like.  We hope you are enjoying the season wherever you are.  Next stop?  Venice.  Ciao!

The Supermoon settng Monday a.m.

Morning clouds in our orange world Monday.

From our deck, looking down Little Valley Road.

A drive along highway 7--Mount Meeker.

Mount Meeker on the left, Longs Peak--middle--and Mount Lady Washington.