I’m walking in some of the most spectacular mountains in the world, but for all I can see I might as well be in a poorly-levelled car park. I’m swaddled in waterproof gear from my hood to my boots, the rain is a steady, soul-sapping patter, and there’s still 8km of hiking to go.
Cracking. The first day of our 3-day hut-to-hut trek in the Italian Dolomites was a miserable mess, and it was only in the last couple of hours that there was a slight reprieve; the cloud lifted slightly to permit occasional glimpses of the enormous peaks. More importantly, it also allowed sight of our rifugio down by a mountain tarn. Day one, tick.
The view from the col. That’s the end of day one down by the lake.
Sitting inside now, listening to the driving rainstorm outside, makes me grateful Partner in Climb and I made it here when we did. Another British couple we met previously are still out there, doubtless getting a thorough soaking. It’s surprisingly difficult to relate, despite the recent drubbing we received, now that I’m sat with a thick Italian hot chocolate in front of me.
Ah well. There’s always tomorrow, and the day after.