MARCO'S STORIES - Four days walking in the Dolomites - Day 4: The adventure is over…

It was not planned. The ascent of the Weisshorn, 2700 meters (the last 300 “vertically"...), was not planned.

Studying on the map the route of the tour of these days from hut to hut, arrived with my finger on the saddle at 2400 meters, I kept scroll forward along the route. Down, where the path leads to the valley.  But I brought with me the mountain harness and helmet... I should suspect that I didn't tell me the whole truth…

During the night I woke up constantly. I was uncomfortable, I was hot, I was thirsty, ... Nervous? And in the morning, at six (six!), I got up.

I prepared the backpack (putting the harness on top!), I had breakfast and went out. I was the first. I did it ...as if nothing had happened. As nothing was going to happen. With myself, I say..., without saying a word, without asking me... "Hey, Marco, but what are your intentions?! What do you think to do, this morning?”. Nothing.

Two hours' approach, to go from an altitude of 2200 meters to 2400. A walk ... My legs were going.  I’ve never been winded. A fairytale.

The horn is in front of me. Since this morning. Vertical. Ever closer, more and more rocky, more gray, wetter, darker. Towering. Increasingly enveloped by clouds.

At last I am in the saddle.

I sit down, I take off my sweaty shirt and I wear a dry jersey. I eat a piece of chocolate and I drink. With great calm. Then I pull out harness and helmet and I wear them.

Someone has already gone up. A couple, who is walking before me on the path that leads to the start point of the climbing route, stops and invites me to go ahead. It's my turn.

I am ten meters far from the first fixed rope and I have to go forward without been in safety. The climb must be done "hands and feet" walking obliquely, leaning towards the rocky side, to have a good support and reduce the risk of losing balance on the narrow jag.

It's not so difficult. But on the other side, on my right, there is already a jump of about thirty meters.

I take a deep breath and I start. I tend too much to the left, towards the rock face, and I leftover badly, clumsy. And in a flash I reach the rope and I make sure.

But I'm not calm. I go forward another twenty meters, now in security, but instead of proceeding seeking footholds and the supports on the rocks, I keep both hands on the wire rope and i pull myself ahead with my arms."

End of the first cable. Next it is about fifteen meters ahead. About eight meters higher.

I look down. Now it's a deep abyss. The rocky wall falls under me, almost vertically, to more than fifty meters. And I should move ahead and climb, leaning my feet along an irregular crack on the wall. A kind of "V". Again hands on the wall, which is now very steep and offers good support. But again not in safety.

I'm afraid.

The legs go. It is not a matter of strength. But I haven't agility, speed of reaction. And this affects my balance.

I already reached the summit twice. The first time when I was twenty-one and then at thirty-one. Both times without harness and helmet… Irresponsible!

But now, at fifty-nine years, it's all different. Without training, without preparation. It can't be done. Not at all.

I make the way back and, proceeding downhill, the last few meters without the cable seem more and more difficult. But soon I am again on the path and, in a while, to the saddle.

I wear the backpack without even take away the harness and I immediately start to descend on the other side of the mountain. I leave the valley from which I come and I enter a new unknown one.

The path is set in a stony ground. It falls very steep and I can't see much.

The cloud envelops everything with a wet steam, now dense and then almost insubstantial, that comes and goes. I can't understand a lot, if not, when "it opens". For a few seconds, bust enough to realize that I am still very high, the valley is far and it is stony also under and in front of me.

And, slowly, step by step, I went down.

Not without problems... At one point my knees told me "Hey man, that’s enough! We can't bear anymore these endless descents. We stay here. And you go to hell or wherever you want!”.

But the slope became finally sweeter. Here are the lawns and, together with the lawns, here come the colors. Stop with the gray! And the smells. And the sound of the bells of the cows replaces the marmots' whistlles. The mind opens and brightens the soul.

Then, continuing to go down, the rhododendrons and the mountain pines. And the sound of the stream, where the various small brooks merged, becomes a consistent and constant presence and it makes me companionship until the end of the valley.

And the cows. Here they are. Beautiful! 

Then the first houses and, walking in the wild, I finally arrive in the village, 1500 meters below.

One strudel and a half liter of red wine, please.

...can I take off my boots?

I'll be very happy to provide details about the tour: maps, huts address, paths, photos, telephones, costs,... to anyone interested.

Previous episodes:

https://steemit.com/travel/@marcodobrovich/marco-s-stories-four-days-walking-in-the-dolomites-day-1-a-matter-of-style

https://steemit.com/travel/@marcodobrovich/marco-s-stories-four-days-walking-in-the-dolomites-day-2-i-m-not-afraid

https://steemit.com/travel/@marcodobrovich/marco-s-stories-four-days-walking-in-the-dolomites-day-3-these-shepherds-are-crazy