Today our plan involved driving to the Marmoleda, then to the town of Arco where there is lots of rock climbing for a quick look around, then on to Bergamo where we had a hotel reservation. We were to catch our flight to Frankfurt early Friday morning from Bergamo Airport
From our albergo in Cancia we were very close to the Marmoleda, a huge massif dripping with a shrinking glacier. It is ringed by valleys and there are ski lifts that provide easy access at different points around the mountain. The receding glacier is in a state of rapid meltdown and has exposed many WW1 relics including firearms, equipment, and clothing. These mountains were bitterly contested between the Italians and the Austro-Hungarians.
We took a open mini-gondola- it holds 2 people standing for a 15 minute ride, to the Marmoleda Rifugio. From there hikers and mountaineers go further up the glacier to the summit of the peaks and from there can go along the ridge to another rifugio.
I started up toward the glacier with John; there were stairs cut into the rock face for part of the way. Then it got steeper with lots of loose rock. I decided to go back to the rifugio for a cup of tea. John hiked up to the glacier. There were lots of other hikers. That was one thing that struck us - just the sheer number of people given the time of year at all the hiking places we visited. John commented on the difference in population density at these areas versus Alaskan hiking trails - in Italy you really feel the crush of people. It must be incredible during the summer high season.
After John returned from his hike, he was standing to order coffee and was suddenly asked by a young German woman to watch her one-year old while she ran outside. She thought she had dropped her wallet getting off the lift. I did not realize John was back and looked up when I heard him saying,"Well, how are you?" in a different tone of voice than normal. Dylan was the baby and he was very sweet. All's well that ends well, and the mother came running in again, rifled through the baby's bag and found her wallet.
We took the lift Dow - which was a bit of a process. It does not stop, it merely slows down for you to jim on and the attendant secures the gate. Getting on was mo problem. I used to jump onto moving cablecars all the time when I lived in San Francisco. Getting off was a little trickier, and on the ride up, I was very glad for the young Italian guy who caught me as I lost my balance. By the trip down, I was old hand and made it off just fine. John has the sure-footedness of a mountain goat.
Next stops: the WW1 museum and Arco.
Photos below:
John and baby Dylan.
The rifugio.
The lift stop.
The lift.
The war museum.
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