I awoke to the sound of Michael and Carlos chattering…I heard them say “It’s 5am”. Dang, another 5 hours of sleep, or less. Apparently, there was some sort of farmer’s truck that came by the park. The occupants eyed us curiously while the truck idled and puttered. Seems like we drifters t’weren’t welcomed in these parts anymore. So, we drove back to Bormio to stash the car at a parking garage and catch the bus out to the village of San Antonio (there was actually a lot of effort involved in developing this plan), where we’d begin a hike we’d read about in Michael’s “Walking the Alps” book. The first day would be a long one, at least 1600 meters of elevation. We weren’t sure about the mileage, at least 12 miles though. We caught the 8am (or 8:30) bus for one Euro out to San Antonio. From here, we hiked across the street along a creek into the farmland up the valley.

(above) 1) The streets of San Antonio, a little village in the Tyrol region of Italy. 2) I believe this is San Antonio’s likeness overlooking the fountain. These fountains are always running and provide clean drinking water. Very convenient.

(above) St. Goddard’s Church, I think, in San Antonio. He helped drive The Gout away from San Antonio many years ago.

We hiked a long way along road passing farms and pastures. We were occasionally reminded by hiking signs adorned with an eagle symbol. Eventually, the valley turned in the right direction and we could see the pass far in the distance. Our plan was to hike over Zebru Pass to a hut on the other side where we’d most likely stay the night and calculate our plans for the next day. We were still on road which detracted from the wilderness feel. In fact, a small truck came by with three Italians in the front. We thrust our thumbs into the air for a ride (why not?). They waved and kept going.

Around late morning, we were about halfway up the valley and we came across a comfortable homestead where we stopped for expensive maps and tasty cappuccino and apple tart. The owner proudly showed us his Ibex horns. They only spoke Italian and it was sometimes possible to communicate in Spanish, except I was still thinking in Chinese. My Spanish grammar is all messed up now and I’d have to speak for a couple of days until I’m in a “Spanish” mode. Anyway…

(above) Good food a few hours into our hike. We’re really roughing it.

Slowly, we rose above the trees. I eventually got a second wind, no doubt due to the prospect of big views at the pass, so I motored ahead and didn’t stop until Zebru Pass. I planned to take a break there and wait for Michael and Carlos, but it was a little windy and cold. I continued down. The hike getting to the pass was long and monotonous. The trail traverses past lots of talus hills, and scree-filled ribs. Towards the top, I had to cross several wet snowfields. On the other side, I did get the views that I was waiting for:

(above) A view of the Ortler range. If you look in the left hand quarter of the image, you may be able to see the hut (look below the curving glacier).

I headed down to a comfortable grassy area and relaxed and waited for Michael and Carlos. Michael showed up thirty minutes later. We could see Carlos still exploring high on the ridge. He’d found some World War I ruins that he enjoyed investigating. Michael and I went down to the Hut and checked on prices. It was very expensive: 42 Euros for the night (dinner and breakfast was included) if you had an Alpine Club membership (I didn’t have my card on me) or 58 Euros if you didn’t. OK, dealbreaker. We decided to continue hiking out the other side of the pass. There were two other huts lower in the valley. We could reach them easily in a couple of hours and we still had at least four to five hours of daylight. When Carlos returned, we told him the plans and we continued on.

The hike out the valley featured big views and a comfortable trail that wended through high alpine meadows pockmarked with large boulders that we frequently stopped on for pictures and general goofing around. Michael and Carlos enjoyed setting up various bouldering routes.

(above) Bouldering around, lovely views looking back up the valley

Some of the areas featured more World War I ruins. The Italians and Austrians fought it out here resulting eventually in Italy claiming this area and much of the southern Alps from Austria (I actually need to brush up on my WWI history). We continued down past more idyllic farms until we arrived at the Forni Pension. At a price tag of 39 Euros per person, it was much more reasonable and also more comfortable.

(above) World War I ruins

(above) Carlos and Michael at chow time. Italy is ruining our ability to go back to freeze-dried meals with this superb salmon and roasted potato dinner. Oh yeah, I forgot that they brought back extra soup and lasagna to us. Funny to think back to the time that Michael, Aidan, and I traversed the Picket Range and loved those freeze-dried meals so much.

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