Mike Dayton's Back

I can't tell you how many miles I've spent following those broad shoulders.  For nearly every challenging ride that I've done over the past 15 years there has been one constant, sucking Dayton's wheel.  He's got a big motor and pushes through the wind.  I tell jokes and keep us on course.  We're a tandem team that forgot to fasten the couplers. In February 2016 that changed in the time of a pedal stroke.  While riding a 200k permanent midday in Johnston County four NC randonneurs were plowed down by a 1992 Crown Victoria.  Mike Dayton hit the windshield and sustained life changing injuries.  He spent time in a coma and was ventilator dependent for a week.  His recovery continues today and the reminders are all around in his house.  Dots and a stick are taped to the walls and lines are on the floor for balancing and vision exercises.  He now wears corrective glasses so that he doesn't see two of everything.  He and Kelly have been through a lot in these past two years.  Kelly has been amazing in her devotion to Mike as he works his way back from injury.  I've missed riding with Mike.  I've missed spending the night over at their house before the Morrisville brevets.  I've missed the banter of our next big ride that we were always planning or trying to one up one another with how out of shape we were.  Of course when I say I'm out of shape it's true.  Dayton is never out of shape. The 200k that he was riding would have continued a streak of 169 consecutive months of riding a century or more!  Let that sink in. 169 consecutive months of riding a century.

Since February 2016 I have only ridden with Mike a handful of times.  The first time was a short ride to and from UNCA from my house after attending the NC Bike Summit in September 2016. He was not ready for more than a few miles at that time.  Since then he has been lifting weights, swimming regularly and riding on bike paths around Raleigh.  In March 2017 we gathered with some friends for a 100k of Mike's Buggs Island Lake Loop in Clarksville VA.   The ride was his first lengthy one back on the road and followed familiar roads of his childhood.  Just a few weeks ago he rode the Morrisville 200k as a pre-ride with Kevin McClain.  That was a big step and brought up discussions about what might be next.  We exchanged a few texts and came up with a possible date for a 300k pre-ride.  Mike has not really done any significant miles in the dark in the past 2 years.  How would the glasses work at night?  Could he sustain an effort for a long enough period of time for a 300k.  I had no question, but he had a few.  We would answer them.

I drove down and as typical arrived fairly late around 10pm.  He and Kelly were waiting in the living room with the pups.  They welcomed me and we sat around catching up.  A few hours later and we were tossing and turning just like usual.  Mike was nervous about the ride.  I tried to be reassuring but felt a little on edge myself.  I'm not sure why.  It all felt very familiar but new also.  I was up before my alarm at 5:45 and headed downstairs to warm up Miss Silvia (the coffee machine) and get a jump on breakfast.  We had Mike's delicious lattes just like always.  We ate Thomas' cinnamon raisin bagels just like always.  We had plenty of time to make the start and then we were running behind, just like always.  Well it didn't really matter because we were pre-rinding alone, at least that's what we thought.  When we got to Big Al's house he also had a card for Martin who would be manning the 300k the following Saturday.  After checking out Al's futuristic custom beer making set up the three of us rolled at 7:30, already 30 minutes behind schedule.

It was a cool morning with temps in the upper 40s.  My fingers were a little chilly but by the time we hit Jordan Lake a strong warming sun was upon us.  Martin tailed off a bit coming up from the lake and by the time we finished Jack Bennet Rd. he had disappeared off the back.  He had told us that he was planning on dropping us off the front and he was true to his word.  We would see him one more time just after the turnaround in Seagrove.  He was riding fine, just taking it easy.  I was a little nervous about extended night riding since Mike didn't really have an idea of how the dark would affect his riding.  We tried to keep on a schedule that would minimize night riding.  We took a quick stop at mile 50 at Snow Camp for a honey bun and a Maple View Dairy chocolate milk.  The next control is only 12 miles later in Siler City and that serves as the turnaround for the out and back 200k that Mike and Kevin had completed 2 weeks earlier.  We didn't even have the second foot clipped in as we left Siler City when we began talking about the cheeseburgers and fries that would refuel us at the turnaround in Seagrove.  The early morning sun was now hiding behind a mid level layer of non-threatening clouds.  We dodged dogs and some traffic near Seagrove as the potters were having an open house weekend. We stayed focused on a Hardee's cheeseburger.  Mike was mainly riding behind me on our trip out but hey after 15 years I owe him a few pulls.  Dayton has always been fast on the road but that pales in comparison to his speed at the plate.  Two cheeseburgers, fries and a Dr. Pepper were dispatched post haste and we were on the return.  We battled a few more dogs but the weather was near perfect and traffic light as we rolled back to Siler City.  Beyond this, we would be in uncharted waters beyond 200k for the first time in 24 months.

There is a sheriff's race going on in Chatham County and it seems to be a hot election.  The incumbent Mike Roberson is defending his office and doing it with signs in nearly every yard along our course.  I don't usually like political signs but these were different. They feature a big "Mike" in the middle of a blue background with smaller font completing the message.  Of course I only saw "Mike".  It reminded me constantly of the reason that I was on this ride.

We caught the front end of the Sunday night beer rush at Siler City.  An older man was standing in line behind us and was asking directions to a seafood restaurant that was some distance out of town.  Once he realized that he was miles off he pivoted to asking for recommendations of any closer seafood restaurants.  Less than an hour later we arrived back in Snow Camp.  Only 50 miles left.  We sat on the benches outside having assorted snacks trying to find that exact item that would squelch our cravings.  We took in the comings and goings of a Sunday country convenience store.  A Pepsi worker still in company car but obviously now off shift was picking up a 6 pack of bud light.  He had obviously moved from sweet to savory.  A guy with a bashed in front end was just pleased that he could still make his beer and cigarette run even though smoke billowed from his front end.  A few rednecks in pickups said hi to us since we were just some guys dressed oddly eating outside a gas station instead of impeding their progress on roads that their taxes paid for solely.  It was just before 6pm when we left Snow Camp.  Not even time for reflective gear although Mike wore his all day.  I can't blame him.

We were happy to get Greensboro Road knocked out in the daylight.  I was riding with a Garmin and a Wahoo but Mike was riding by memory.  He knows the course by heart and the roads that were ticking off were very familiar.  Lindley Mill, Old Switchboard, Castle Rock, Chicken Bridge, Jones Ferry, Parker Herndon, Jack Bennett.  By the time we got to Andrews Store our lights were on and we were in full reflective gear.  We would have 20 miles of night riding.  It was at this point that I began to fade a bit.  Mike rolled by and I fell in.  We basically rode like this for the last hour and a half.  He had plenty left in the tank and pulled us home.  Usually this was my role but this time I was happy to ride in on his coat tails. 

A 300k is not a long way by randonneuring standards but it certainly is a test. It is a distance that is incomprehensible to ride a bicycle by most every human on this planet.  In the days and weeks following our friends being run down in February 2016 we prayed and hoped for their survival and recovery.  Randonneuring again was not in my immediate thoughts.  Joel returned to riding quickly.  Chris had a longer recovery but has returned fully and has completed a couple of 1200s and LEL.  Lynn continues to recover and ride a bicycle but not for long distances or for any kind of credit other than personal accomplishment. 

Mike and I have done 4 PBPs together although we didn't know each other during our first one in 2003.  I didn't think there would ever be a chance for a 5th when I first saw him unresponsive on a ventilator back in February 2016.  After our recent ride I'm starting to believe that anything is possible for Mr. Dayton.  I'm just happy that we got to spend a day on the bikes and that I got to see first hand Mike Dayton's back.

Cascade 2005

PBP 2007

LEL 2009

PBP 2011

GSR 2012

HCH 2013

RAA 2014

PBP 2015

Flèche 2018 - Randbros

Team Randbros

I don’t think they see many cyclists in the Bluegrass Barbecue in Cowpens South Carolina but it’s safe to say they know how to squelch a hunger. Team Randbros' swagger had developed a stumble in the mid day heat of upstate SC. We needed food. We needed drink. We needed it now. As I was opening the menu I asked the waitress about their specialty. “Whole Tater,” came her reply and became our mantra as to a man we all went Whole Tater! A box baked regulation football sized potato served as the base of this edible mountain but that was just the start. It had a stick of butter, a modicum of sour cream, cheese, 1/2 pound of pulled pork barbecue and a drowning of barbecue sauce. One may question the ramifications of such a dietary choice 85 miles into a 229 mile bicycle ride but we weren’t asking questions. We sought only answers, and the unanimous answer was Whole Tater!  Randbos were not half tater although in hindsight perhaps the lesser spud would have sat more gently as we pedaled the rolling hills of the upstate in the heat of the afternoon. Luke impressively cleared his plate except for the Texas toast which we all knew was simply a garnish to this behemoth. No one even touched the toast which looked like a saltine next to the entree.  Ryan and I battled on and eventually reached polycarbonate. Ritchie got a large Styrofoam to-go cup and packed nearly half for later rolling tater noshing. Kevin ate until his eyes bulged a bit and then covered the remains with a napkin. We all looked away.

https://instagram.com/p/BKJS9T9h11B/

Whole Tater! 2.5-3lbs of goodliness!!

Ritchie for scale

Over the course of the next several hours our digestive tracts battled the formidable Whole Tater and we turned north headed back towards NC.  We stopped for a photo control at Peachoid. 

The 8th Wonder of the World - Peachoid!

Mercifully the long shadows arrived and the air cooled a bit.  I really like riding at night but my favorite part of the day is the hour before sunset.  We were enjoying the golden hour on some very quiet roads with peach blossoms blooming and Spring everywhere.  The particular road at the moment was especially quiet as it had a bridge out (to cars) but we easily navigated the work section.

Seemsfine moment

Take the lane 2018, have two, road closed.

Although I was quite pleased with our course the spacing of food and drink seemed a little out of sync with our needs. Sure we recharged with the negatively charged ionic water at the top of Hwy 9 out of Black Mountain but that was hours ago. 
Our out of phase hunger/food cycle reached crescendo at mile 155 shortly before midnight in Old Fort NC when we were denied drive thru service at a “24 hour” McDonalds.  We had been dreaming about our orders for the last 20 miles.  Ryan had settled on a McFlurry which would be eaten solely with french fries as utensils and a side hamburger.  Luke was asking questions about the Big Mac. Why the extra bun?  How's the special sauce? It was all for naught.  Bicycles are a “security concern” according to the assistant general manager who was reached by phone. As Ritchie explored the nuances of security concerns and different bicycle /McDonald's App order scenarios at McDonalds, Luke, Ryan and I made a mad dash to stick a foot in the door of the closing at midnight convenience store. This was now our only option for fuel prior to the major climb back into Black Mountain and we seized the moment.  Can we still buy a few things ma'am?  "Sure Honey" was music to our ears. We were also buying for Ritchie and Kevin who hadn’t entirely specified their orders. The store was past closing and the chaotic buying frenzy that ensued recalled that show where participants would fill up their shopping carts with as many items as possible in a minute. Ritchie finally conceded to McDonalds that we were a security concern and rolled over to survey our cornucopia of convenience laid out on the ice machine outside. Rando buffet! The door was now locked and the lights off for the night.  I shot a V8 then washed it down with a Yoo Hoo. Then some salt and VINEGAR chips topped off with a Klondike bar. Granted, it was a bit experimental but isn’t that what randonneuring is all about? Utter exhaustion and gastric mixology. Well this mix didn’t sit well. Kevin was disassembling his bicycle for the Uber back to Asheville and I was gagging trying to hold back the volcano rumbling in my belly.  It did not look good for Team Randbros.  Not good at all.  A small lava flow came forth and then I was back in action. We were down to 4 now as our only clearly thinking member had just pulled the plug. I think I can speak for all of us when I say I was a bit envious of Kevin and his plan for a shower, beer and a bed. My immediate concern however was my clearly defined role as the weak link in our little chain-gang. Kevin and I had taken turns all day dangling off the back. Now he was in a car and I was still dangling. I heard my crew in preliminary mutiny discussions as they waited on me to recover by the storm drain after my little science experiment. “Oh nothing,” they said when I asked what was up but I heard the whispers. I think they had already divvied up my kit and components. Ritchie had been asking an awfully lot of questions about my Wahoo GPS.

Surprisingly, I made it back up old 70 (Lookout Trail) and then I sucked some serious wheel as we flew back into Asheville on a fast gentle downhill. In route planning I was careful to seek out a few exceedingly steep climbs on our way to the Huddle House, the last control before sleep. The kind of climbs where if you go right and then left its entirely flat but if you go left and then right you have an 18% up followed by an 18% down. It keeps the legs fresh. We opted to eat at the Huddle House since a stamp and go would put us too early to our planned sleep stop. Ryan ordered 1800 calories of fuel but then turned the Huddle House into an unplanned sleep stop. After picking through Ryan’s side orders we woke him and cleaned our plates. 

We arrived at Ricky’s Lounge at 4:15am with a glorious two hour stop in our thoughts. The team hit their bunks like Tyson hits a uncovered jaw. I was very careful to set my iPhone alarm to 5:45 am. Sleep came quickly but then was ingloriously interrupted by a thigh cramp. As I grabbed for my leg I felt our cat pounce on my foot. How did our cat get in here? Our door is closed. Oh well, I looked at the clock. 6:00am! Wait, what happened? I looked at my phone. Curiously the alarm was off. I suspect gremlins or maybe the cat. Anyway, I kitted up and we shot out of the house and into the rain. Ugh. Only 43 miles to finish but at least it now felt like a flèche. Rain and puddles and wet feet. This felt familiar.  The last 43 miles were relatively flat by Asheville standards. An out and back to Marshall on the River Road for our 22 hr control then a triumphant return to the Rise and Shine Café on Merrimon Avenue. I figured there would be a few reporters or at least a supporter or two.  Although the roads were wet and we had some occasional light rain on the way out to Marshall we had no idea of what was yet to come. Just as we were pulling the receipt out of the Credit Union ATM in sleepy Sunday downtown Marshall the first warning shots fell from the sky. They were those big drops that will change a screen on a Garmin not the sprinkles that we had seen so far. I soft pedaled while the team put on rain jackets. The rain was off and on back to the Water Treatment Plant and just before there we stopped for a brief nature break and rain jacket removal. Rain jacket removal so close to the finish didn't feel right. The mood was a darkening grey and increasingly ominous. Nothing brings the fury from the sky like the premature stowage of gortex. As we turned onto Elk Mountain road to climb back up to city elevation the heavens opened. It was a deluge and then it was biblical. This wasn't New Testament rain, it was Old Testament rain.  We were literally climbing a river. The winds blew against us daring another pedal stroke. Cars all drove with their hazard lights flashing. Most gave us wide berth as we were obviously not of sound mind riding bicycles in such conditions. At least the sheets of rain prevented the slightest heckling as no window could be rolled down not even a crack.  The road was not visible and many items tumbled along in the flowing water.  Pebbles, gravel, sticks, cans, road kill, phone polls etc.  I was constantly braced to hit a pot hole or speed bump because they could be hidden under the water.  I desperately wanted to record video but I was not willing to take a hand off the bars.  So close now.  Can't risk it.

Despite the torrent we did arrive at the Rise and Shine but more as drowned rats coming ashore than triumphantly returning conquerers.  Jennifer and Maslow and Asia and Edie met us for the Eggs Benediction.  I had already stripped everything off above shorts level and for the first time of the ride donned my yellow paper 02 rain jacket.  It was high rando fashion countering the church crowd. We were all dripping wet and now a bit chilled.  Asia brought towels and we wrapped them around our waists like kilts.  The wet floor caution signs were out around our table and other patrons seemed to be all asking for their checks. 

At least the rain had suppressed our stench.  Ian brought his team by for the celebration, Chris Graham, Dave McDonald and Bradley Waffa.  Joel had already high tailed it out of town with his belly full of Asheville suds.  Chet and Cindy also joined us, representing the only standing members of their team which eventually was brought down by a cat but I'll let them tell that story.

Thanks to my very strong team for pulling me around all day.  You guys made it look easy and always kept it positive.  That's a huge part of rando.  Keep it positive.  That way you can fool yourself that you're having fun!  I'll leave you with this bit of advice.  If your ever find yourself in Cowpens SC and you have a hunger, hit the Bluegrass Barbecue and don't Half Tater!

Ricky's Lounge start

Lake Lure portrait spot

Apple and or Peach trees in bloom

Horse farms and quiet roads.

Of course we had night gravel.  What do you think this is our first flèche?

Italy 2017

Getting the immediate family all in one place happens less and less frequently as our kids become busier. This year our opportunity occurred at the end of July.  Patrick had just finished with a study abroad program in Soria, Spain.  Clare thouroughly enjoyed two sessions as a camp counselor at Camp Celo and would have stayed for a third had it not conflicted with our family vacation.  Abbey had just returned from a summer introduction to medicine program at the University of Vermont.  We flew in and out of Venice but the bulk of the trip was spent hiking in the Dolomites.  Anna and Max who we had met last fall on the Camino helped with logistics since they lived nearby.

On our first day we fought off the urge for sleep and travelled to Padua to visit the Scrovegni Chapel. This chapel is adorned with Giotto's frescoed masterwork and is considered to be one of the great works of Western art.  Abbey had pushed for this visit since Giotto's work had caught her interest in Mrs. Haun's Art History class.  The chapel was commissioned by Enrico Scrovegni to atone his family's sins of usery.  I'm not sure if it was enough but no expense was spared.

                             https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Scrovegni_Chapel

                                     The Lamentation of Christ, Giotto 1305

We slept well after a full day with Max and Anna punctuated by a 5 course Italian feast on a veranda in the countryside overlooking the hills of northern Italy with the Dolomites looming in the distance.

The next day we bid ciao to Max as he collected our non-essential hiking luggage.  A two hour bus ride and we found ourselves in Cortina where our hike would begin.  Cortina is a spectacularly beautiful ski town guarded by craggy peaks on all sides.  A ski jump in need of repair and an Olympic skating rink remind visitors that the town hosted the 1956 Winter Olympics.  We found our way to our overnight lodging and met up with Ian Spare who would serve as our guide for the 7 day trek to Bolzano.  Ian runs a outdoor guiding service based out of Switzerland but the Dolomite trek happens to be one of his favorites.  Our trip basically followed the description on his website.

 https://www.swissmountainleader.com/trekking/italian-dolomites-trekking/

Our typical day would include hiking 6-8 hours with a short but scenic lunch break.  We were happy to take off our packs in the evening and to be introduced to our beds each night.  Most of the lodging was at refugios high in the Dolomites, but this is after all Italy, and fabulous and abundant food was the norm and even the smallest and most remote lodging had a world class Espresso machine!

The Trek

Day 1  Cortina to Croda da Lago

Off from Cortina.

It always feels so good to take those few first steps of a long journey.  We had been planning this trip for nearly a year (with Ian's help of course) but you get my drift.  We were here and it was happening.  We stopped in town and topped off our packs with lunch for the day.  The first day was maybe 10 miles but we did gain 1,000 meters.  We crossed a few streets, a bridge and were quickly into an alpine forest.  There was quite a bit of up but we were fresh.  We had some nice views across the valley where Cortina is situated.  We were looking to the west but heading east.  Our goal for the evening was the refugio Croda da Lago.  As we approached the refugio we decided to take the scenic long way around the lake rather than the 100 yrd straight-line to the finish.  It was beautiful hiking along the edge of the lake and I lingered taking pictures as my crew stepped up onto the deck of the refugio.  That is when I heard the first screams of excitement!  I hustled to see the cause of the commotion and it turned out to be a freak encounter with our good friend and neighbor from Asheville, Sarah Abernethy!  Sarah was just finishing roughly the same hike that we were embarking upon but in the opposite direction.  It truly is a small world!

Well hey there neighbor! photo Ian Spare

Refugio Croda da Lago

A well deserved reward on the deck at Croda da Lago.

Pausing at da Lago photo Ian Spare

They take their grappe seriously at Refugio Croda da Lago.

Day 2 Croda da Lago to Cinque Torri

We readied our gear and applied sunscreen on the deck.  I'm pretty certain that we were the last to leave, but as you can see from the picture below, the deck held a certain appeal.  Eventually we overcame gravity and became objects in motion working our way steadily uphill along the western wall of the Croda. Cortina was far below over our left shoulder.  We reached a pass that spilled us into a sea of grassy high rolling meadow.  We saw our first marmots of the trip and even when out of sight we were escorted by their serenading whistles.  A herd of wild donkey's watched from the ridge indifferent to our picture taking.  There was still a high vertical wall to our right and here is where we encountered our first climbers.  The Dolomites are a popular destination for climbing especially because of the extensive network of via ferrata.

http://www.nationalgeographic.com/adventure/destinations/europe/italy/climbing-the-dolomites-via-ferrata/

The valley turned upward and sent us over another pass where a cool wind met us head-on.  The grass gave way to rocks and we made our way down a steep hillside to Passo Giau.  Lycra and leather clad cyclists were summiting the pass from both directions.  The Passo Giau is commonly featured in the Giro d'Italia as it was this year during the queen stage.  A common feature of our trek was hiking down to the same passes to which the cyclists were ascending.  We stopped for a lunch break at a roadside restaurant at Passo Giau and then began the traverse and ascent to the ridiculously perched Refugio Nuvalau.  It was not our target for the night but one that must be seen, preferably from the deck with a refreshing beverage in hand.  The rifugio makes quite an impression with its location and we took a short break before the final k down to our stop for the night at Rigugio Scoiattoli at Cinque Torri, the five towers.  Two nights earlier in Cortina as we walked to dinner we had looked far into the distance as Ian ointed out the unmistakable silhouette of Cinque Torri.  It felt rewarding to now be there simply by putting one foot in front of another over and over again.  Just outside our door we explored this Italian stronghold during WWI which included an extensive series of bunkers, tunnels and stairs.

Sunscreen application and foot prep nearly complete.

Starting the day with elevation gain.

Cortina just out of view over our left shoulders. It would not be the last time we saw it though.

Into the high green valley with marmots, foxes and donkeys.

Hiking down to Passo Giau

Passo Giau, a hopping spot.  You can see the tiny outline of a building just to the right of the bottom left hand corner of the sign.  That is our next destination!

Hiking up to the precariously perched Rifugio Nuvolau

Location, location, location - Rifugio Nuvolau 2573m

Nice digs for the night at Cinque Torri just 1k from Nuvolau and 200m below.

Italian positions during WWI.  Look closely for the stairs, walkways and bunkers. Rifugio Sciattoli is that small building just to the left of center.

Quiet time during the setting of the sun at Cinque Torri.

Day 3  Cinque Torri to Lagazuoi

It was a beautiful clear day as we set out from Cinque Torri.  The only visible clouds were clinging to mountain tops like toupees.  We descended down along the alta via to Pass Falzarego.  We crossed the road and were immediately on our way up.  An hour later and we were back above tree line.  We passed through our first small tunnel but it would not be our last.  We would spend the better part of the following morning in tunnels.  The higher we climbed, the more the clouds gathered.  We crossed a pass and found ourselves in a rock strewn high valley with constant left to right cloud motion.  It was time for lunch.  With our bellies temporarily quieted we set off for our Refugio Lagazuoi.  It was further than we thought and at this point we decided to try off piste.  At one point we briefly lost Patrick who had decided to explore a cave.  Clare did the same 15 minutes later.  We were going up and up and up!  A flock of sheep were grazing but paid us little attention.  After a stiff climb to the ridge we realized that we weren't even on the final ridge yet!  We still had to go down before the final unrelenting switchbacks to the Refugio.  It's safe to say that when we finally reached the festive deck, refreshments were in order.  I love the whole deck scene at the refugios.  The scenery is hypnotizing and the atmosphere lively.  The snacks and drinks are molto bene!  We're in Italy!! Va bene!!

Clouds love mountains.

Refugio Scoiattoli in the morning.

A boy and his rock.

Yes, we hiked up that!

What is your favorite color?

Snape's favorite potion ingredient Wolfsbane.

Hiking up to the next to last ridge!

Some of the path is slow going.

Nirvana at Lagazuoi!

Day 4 Lagazuoi to Arabba

After a fabulous dinner the previous night we spent a good part of the evening on the deck taking pictures of the sunset and clouds.  It felt good to have a few layers on and feel the evening breeze.  Abbey overheard some folks on the deck planning to catch the sunrise so we made a pact to be up at 5:45.  It was worth it!  When I stepped into the cool morning just as the sun was rising every valley was densely filled with all the clouds that had settled in for the night.  The prior night they were whirling around and obscuring sunsets but now all the clouds were sleeping in and it created perhaps the most spectacular natural sight that I have witnessed.  We took loads of pictures from varying angles but I don't feel that we ever quite captured the spectacle.  We took a break for a hikers breakfast and readied our packs while our awaiting our helmets.  Yes we would need helmets for the first part of the day because we were descending through WWI tunnels for most of the descent back down to Pass di Falzarego.  Occasionally we would pop out and eventually we were below the clouds.  On our way down we stepped out onto the Martini ledge to have a look at the narrow ledge where 300 Italian soldiers spent two years during WWI.  Check link for a fascinating story about the ledge.   https://www.ft.com/content/33f43882-48da-11df-8af4-00144feab49a  We grabbed a quick snack at Falzrego and then paralleled the road for a bit turning upward past a small shallow lake.  At the next pass we ate lunch and then continued a long and rocky traverse.  We took a break before a climb into a grassy valley and assessed the "meat still on the bone."  A long day loomed but there was one oasis where we could get snacks and a skiwasser.  It was about two hours away!  After the short but steep pass as the path turned grassy mountain bikers were encountered.  Just one here but then three there and all of a sudden they were everywhere.  We were in a winter ski resort summer mountain bike mecca!  We downed our skiwassers and ice creams and headed out for the final push which according to the sign was 2 hours 45 minutes!  It was a pleasant hike through well used trails down to Pass Campolongo.  We contemplated taking a bus for the small bit remaining but we had just missed one.  We would do it all by foot.  We staggered into the hotel at Arabba whipped, just before 6pm.  It took everything we had to walk into town for food.  We had a less than memorable meal and then limped home pouring into bed for a well earned rest.  I did not move until well after sunrise.

Clouds not yet awake at Lagazuoi.

Abbey and I on location for a photo shoot, photo Ian Spare

Helmet up, photo Ian Spare

Oh my darling Clementine, photo Ian Spare

Why go over when you can go through?

Patrick and Clare on Martini Ledge

Amy loved this part, Via Ferrata 1

Finally below the clouds.

The long traverse.

20 minutes from skiwasse!

Day 5 Arabba to Campitello

Arabba is a small town that serves as a base for downhill skiing in the winter and cycling and motorcycling when snow is absent.  Since we had hiked down to get to Arabba, we knew there would be a heap of uphill to get back to our intended path for the day, the spectacular View Dal Pan.  We gathered our half dried laundry from around the room and set off into town.  We stocked up at the local grocer - sandwiches, chocolate and fruit would sustain us through the day.  Now to get up to the Viel.  How about a ski lift?  Isn't that cheating?  No it is smart.  The gondola was packed with hikers as we ascended 1,000m to the ridge top.  It feels so good making smart moves, probably because they are so infrequent.  Once unloaded we began a long sideways traverse on the very popular View Dal Pan.  The path was smooth and cut into a grassy ridge, always looking at the Marmolade Glacier off to the left.  Early morning traffic included a shepherd and his very organized sheep.  We passed several refugios, including one with a jazz band.  It was all very entertaining. Since the path is accessible by ski lift from either end, it is very popular.  Many older hikers were on the trail enjoying their day out.  I got the feeling that this was how a Sunday should be spent in Northern Italy.  When we reached the far end of the View, we began our journey down.  We hiked paralleling some downhill MTB paths and it was fun to watch the freaks do their thing.  We passed through some beautiful fields and half way down Abbey and Amy decided to get smart again.  They opted for lift down.  Ian tried to talk the rest of the crew out of the steep hike down but we would not be swayed.  It was actually quite nice through a thick forest along an insane MTB trail.  There were tire tracks but I got woozy just thinking about riding this section.  Eventually we came into Canazei and hiked through it's lovely small and twisty streets to find Amy and Abbey sitting on a deck having snacks next to the lift.  It was time for a skiwasser!  We then hiked though the lower town and along a creek through some recreation areas eventually reaching the next village for our sleep stop for the night.  Campitello is a lovely little town and our hotel had a real Germanic feel.  I could sense that we were getting closer to Bolzano, where roughly a quarter of the population speaks German as their primary language.  We had a lovely dinner at a restaurant that also operates a strip joint although it was packed with families, the restaurant that is.  We then made it back to our hotel in time to get our dried laundry off of the line before the heavens opened up.  Max had told us long before our trip started that we would have good weather in the Dolomites and the rains would only come at night.  We laughed but he was absolutely correct.  We never even wore our raincoats for a second layer.  It only rained at night!

Commence the View Dal Pan!

Even the sheep are under Germanic influence.

There is always one.

This went on for hours!

I love breaks, especially when they have snacks!

I took a lot of pictures.  Can you blame me?

The hills are alive, with the sound of music!

Lovely Canazei, just passing through.

Day 6  Campitello to Refugio Bolzano (Schlernhaus) http://www.schlernhaus.it/schlernhaus/en/


For 140 years they have been operating a refugio at Schlernhaus and that was our destination for the night.  First we would have to regain the altitude that we lost coming into Campitello.  We opted for the ski lift again, as did many hikers.  Our day would be long enough without another 1,000m climb.  We hiked briskly into town to catch the first gondola up which was usually 9am.  10 minutes later we were stepping out into the cool morning air walking just off the ridge line.  We walked by several refugios on our way toward a high gap at Rifugio Alpe de Tires where we stopped for a rest and a snack after a long steep climb.  This led to another traverse which featured quite a steep drop off to our left.  We climbed one last steep gap and this would spill us into a rocky region that led to our goal for the day, Refugio Bolzano (Schlernhaus).

Impossible to pass up trail donuts

Morning traverse

The cows were unimpressed.

Abbey runs the gauntlet!

On the climb up to Alpe de Tires.

Not Amy's favorite section.  One last gap before Rifugio Bozano.

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Keep to the right please.

Alpe de Tires is that tiny spot in the gap about an hour back on the trail.

Looking back at the long and winding road.

Pack on the run into Shclernhaus

They know how to snack at Schlernhaus!

The dining room at Schlernhaus oozes alpine club

Rifugio Bolzano (Schlernhaus) regards the Rosegarden 

Grappa pino mugo.

Pay your bill, have a shot!

 When we arrived at Schlernhaus we immediately grabbed a picnic table seat at the our door bar.  We dropped our packs and ordered a well deserved round of Ski Wasses.  As I was standing at the bar a panicked man came running up to report that his aunt had fallen and injured her face.  She had landed on a rock.  Someone from the rifugio went with him to help her and 10 minutes later she was retrieved by helicopter.  Her pack and her nephew stayed behind and would begin the long walk down to meet her at the hospital.  We checked into our accommodations which were in the building adjacent to the main lodge.  After a brief unpacking we made our way into the main building which was dripping with 140 years of mountain guide memorabilia.  We found our assigned table and sat down for a game of cards.  "Would we like a snack?" "Why yes that would be nice." Meats, cheeses and bread came forth.  Eventually we would have a hearty dinner and then as custom dictates I paid our bill for lodging and the meals before bed.  I guess they have learned through 140 years of experience that it is best to settle up the night before because if one skips out in the morning, tracking them down is nearly impossible.  I would learn that a shot of grappa is the reward for settling your bill.  I chose the pino mugo grappa and it was quite resinous.  I could see from the bottle that they did not spare the pine!  Later that evening as we were all doing our own things Abbey had a humorous experience.  She went into the second floor bathroom and appropriately locked the door with the skeleton key.  After finishing up she was unable to unlock the door and she had no way to contact any of us since we were not in the building.  She began knocking on the door and to her surprise, a voice answered from the other side.  It was a german girl who spoke perfect English and was willing to help.  First she needed to understand why someone was knocking from inside the bathroom! Wasn't it usually the other way around?  Abbey explained that the door was locked and while she had the key, she could not get the key to unlock the door.  The girl suggested that she slide the key under the door but it wouldn't fit.  No problem, throw it out the window and I'll run below and catch it.  That is exactly what she did.  The German girl ran down stairs, outside and around to find the bathroom window.  Abbey leaned out from the second floor and dropped the key.  The girl retrieved it and then came upstairs and unlocked the door from the outside.  At last Abbey was free!  Later that night Abbey inisisted that Clare accompany her to the bathroom.  This time they did not lock the door and of course someone walked in on them.  We all had a big laugh.

Day 7  Rifugio Bolzano to Vols am Schlern

This was a short day all downhill into a small village where we caught a bus to Bolzano.  The bus ride was the scariest part of the entire trek!  Narrow curvy blind roads as you can imagine.  At one point a truck heading in the opposite direction passed us and I swear I smelled the driver's aftershave!  The descent was broken up with a snack at another extremely picturesque restaurant.  We passed through many narrow slot canyons guided down by water flowing.  Eventually the scenery became less wild and we found ourselves in a well used park and recreation area just before entering the town of Vols am Schlern.  Here would catch the bus that would carry us the rest of the way into Bolzano.  German is still spoken in much of the city and I was happy to find out that Bolzano is a beer town! Of course we took our meal at a local brewery that night and the beer was outstanding, even for a beer snob from Asheville.  http://www.batzen.it/

The trip down

We always have time for a snack

Return to civilization

Bolzano

Reward spaetzle and goulash

Day 8  Train from Bolzano to Venice (via Verona)

We decided to take an afternoon in Verona on our way back from Bolzano by train.  We had enough time to tour the coliseum, Juliet's house, walk the ritzy streets of the shopping district and enjoy a fabulous lunch.

Arena

Juliet's balcony

Love notes

In some cultures it is considered good luck (for love).

The Italians really know how to eat.