Alta Via 1 Hike: Underbed monsters in the tunnels?

The next morning I was again the first one up and took the honor of waking up the other 13 people in the dorm from their deep breathing and steady snores. People – it is 515 and this hut serves breakfast at 6 – which means there is a sunrise to inhale with our souls and a breakfast of bread, eggs and earl grey to kick open our eye lids. Okay – I did not declare this, but the crumpling of my packing and the back and forth thru the door was sufficient. I roused a small group and we scattered onto the balcony into a crisp morning wind to catch the day's virgin sun.

Today began my series of 'super ideas' and 'flexibility challenges'.

I have had a lot of really good ideas in my life – like moving abroad again and again – and some not so good – like riding my bike into a stationary bus stop shelter. This morning's super idea: I took the 'short cut' down the mountain, alone, at 645 with the morning mountain frost. The route: 650 meters downhill via war time tunnels converted into an open air museum. The upside – entering via a hole in the mountainside, descending alone in pitch black darkness with an occasional natural window (with yet another series of breathtaking vista views towards Cortina) and the echo of eerie singular drops of rain ahead of me – or perhaps just a few steps behind me – no, the definitely came from up ahead – oh hell – I better just run down.

The vision was poetic. After 4 days deeply charmed by the region's beauty and a breakfast declaration that I would take on the tunnels because it was no real challenge – and there I was running through the darkness with my eyes fixated as far forward as my headlamp would allow, jumping every single time the light flashed in a falling water drop, my gloved hands gripped the assist cable hiding my white knuckled fist – singular because I kept my pocket knife firmly clutched in my left hand. Guidance says the tunnels will take 1 – 1.5 hours to make your way down depending on your appetite for exploration of the makeshift museum. Yet, 45 minutes after I took the plunge into the 'gallery' and took a hopeful left turn based on a suggestive sign and a spiraling staircase, I was already done. In those 45 minutes I think I suddenly became afraid of the dark, monsters under my bed and boogie men in the closet. My adolescent fear was laughable and I emerged grinning at the paranoia and questioned what I was really prepared to do with a pocket knife that was closed in my fist – super idea, maybe the monsters would be deterred if I hurled my light weight camping tool and blinded them with my flashy headlamp. I definitely laughed at myself and sudden paranoia for a solid 2 more hours.

Before I knew it I had drifted up Forcella Nuvolau and reached the planned landing pad for my head that night just before they had finished cleaning up after the late departures from the night before. I chatted briefly with the Canadian hostess only to find that she was full for the night and increasingly agitated at a number of weekend cancellations of those missing out on another captivating room with a view. We peered over the mountains steep drop into the valley of Passo Giau. She gestured to a upscale Rifugio that may or may not have one of its 10 rooms open for me – the pages of my torn guidebook quoted 'unreliable' – a dodgy website offered no additional hope, but in any case it was another 1,5 hours, via ferrata and knee knocking descent away. I had choices: wait for a bed to open up in 7 hours, risk a forced journey in a setting sun if no bed was available or sleep on the bench or floor or other available space in the clouds with the bulk of the group that reserved a spot from the night before.

Via ferrata after lunch it was. I forced down a substandard 'würst' of some sort that looked like a hot dog in need of a tan and the standard accoutrement: sauerkraut.

The via ferrata / aided climb section was just out of site below the edge of the helipad. As an intimidating lunch crowd gathered and dangled their feet over the concrete slab, I held a small convention of opinions in my mind:

• Definitely not something you should be doing alone
• Can you not just be patient and wait
• All those people are watching you – do you go down facing the mountain or away from it
• That is the dumbest question – clearly you should go another way
• This cannot be too hard – suck it up and just go slowly, but not too slowly those people are nibbling on their lunch and assessing your skills in both climbing and decision making
• Glad we did not tell mom about this one, but perhaps she thinks I am going the long way around when she reads this chapter of the guide book

I had more discussion with myself in the short distance down than I had in the past four days combined. Two cables and one solid but bent ladder later and I was past the first part. The second was another, slightly longer cable anchored over crumbling orange rocks and this time, no audience. I had my gloves on again – if only to cover my white knuckled fists so I would not obviously see that I was nervous. Mentally I was scaling El Capitan without a harness, in reality I was clumsily descending an unnamed portion of a non-descript mountain with my feet glued to the rocks nearly level with my hands forcing my butt awkwardly up in the air and my center of balance likely miles away from where it needed to be. I made it – gracelessly to the bottom only to find a sign at the end written in Italian and German stating that it is mandatory to have proper via ferrata gear for this section. Hmm. They should have one of those signs at the helipad too.

Down I went for another hour and stumbled past some woman having her feet filmed as she galloped in the afternoon sun for some sort of promotion film and into the 'unreliable' Rifugio as an unassuming bald man held open the front door for me on his way out. My next adventure began in that Rifugio, but I needed a nap first. I laid in my bed and gazed through the window back up the mountain from where I had come as a cotton ball cloud blew in to cover the helipad and my trail friends I had left behind.

 Hikers hints: The tunnels are wet but the temperature is relatively cool irrespective of outside. The path is mostly in the form of steps, some a bit large, but the assist cable is solid and Omni-present. Make reservations to the small Rifugio Nuvolau, but perhaps grab dinner at the Averau before the final and straightforward ascent to Nuvolau. The via Ferrata should not be oversimplified, but it can be done with relative ease if there is no issue with heights. The spacing from rocks to assist cables could prove difficult for kids or smaller adults without any gear.