Sunday morning, after not sleeping great, we set off for the 2-hour drive to our starting point. It was a perfect day, sunny and in the 60s. The drive from Bardolino to the mountains took about 2 hours and we stopped for much-needed cappuccinos before the final few miles up to Malga Sorgazza, a rifugio-turned-restaurant. We were to park in their lot, and let the management know we were heading into the mountains for 4 days, returning on Wednesday afternoon. I guess that’s how they keep track of hikers like us. The drive was stunning - there is just something about the scale of giant mountains surrounding you. (There is also something special about having to stop your vehicle so a flock of sheep can pass with their shepherds.)

We were surprised to find the parking lot FULL of cars. It was a beautiful Sunday at the end of the hiking season, so that would explain it. We got there around 11:00 am, a little later than we probably should have gotten started (full disclosure: Kirk wanted to get on the trail by 9, but I just didn’t have it in me to leave our apartment by 6:30 - in hindsight, I should have listened to him). We rearranged the luggage in our car, hiding everything in the trunk, got our packs out, and made sure we had what we needed. My water bladder had leaked and everything in my pack was damp, and we didn’t have any water left in mine, although Kirk still had a few liters in his. We should have refilled mine, but we had a filter and thought we’d be fine. We stopped in at the malga, left our names and expected return date, and started walking.

All the literature said this hike takes 5 hours. We thought we’d give ourselves an extra hour of grace and expected to be at our first hut, Rifugio Caldanave, by 5:00, 6:00 at the very latest.

The first part of the trail was a gorgeous primeval forest with ancient evergreens where we caught glimpses of the mountain spires between the trunks. Cute little wooden bridges crossed trickling streams of icy water. This was great. Everything we had been training for. Just like Elk Knob. Then the trail started getting more challenging, steeper, with more rocks, and big climbs up. The sun was high in the sky and it was warm. After about an hour and a half, we broke through the tree line. I was feeling the altitude, and panting like I was running a 5k. By 1:00 we were at the Costa Brunella lake where a few other hikers had stopped for lunch. We caught our breath and ate lunch, getting back on the trail by 1:20. Luca, Sophia and Ricardo were three Italian 30-somethings that we chatted with briefly. They were also heading to Caldanave that evening and we told them, “ci veddiamo dopo (see you later).” They had started the trail at noon and caught up to us in half the time.

Two more hours went by and we were truly in the “Alta Via del Granito” (the high granite road). We had run out of water and were looking for a source where we could filter some more for our non-leaking bladder. We could hear water trickling under a lot of the rocks, but we couldn’t see it or get to it. We finally found a small pond and took advantage of it, filtering about another liter and a half. Our young Italian trailmates passed us at that point. We had continued to climb up and were about 3 miles into the 7-mile day and had ascended over 3000 more feet.

Around 3:00 we came to another well-known spot called the Forcella Quarraza (which I think means “Quartz Fork”) where giant rock fields that have chipped off and fallen away from the mountains form the base of the mountains, looking like fields of sand from a distance. The rocks are huge boulders, big rocks, loose stones and sand. The trails at this point were not always evident and the markings were not clear. A red and white stripe painted on a rock or a tree lets you know where to turn, and occasionally there is a number as well. Another couple passed us and chatted about the trails for a few minutes with us. They gave us their map, as they were familiar with the paths.

We took another quick break at 4:00 near Forzelon di Rava, another rock tumble with an amazing view, and then couldn’t find our way for about 20 minutes…we were starting to feel like we were racing the sunset at this point and realized we still had a ways to go. We were at the highest altitude of the hike, around 8000’, and we were just about out of water again. We found a WWI trench, and got back on the right path.

Up until this point, focusing on anything other than staying on the trail, not being thirsty or anxious about how far we were, seemed impossible. All concentration was needed to keep moving and proceeding safely. We did begin to repeat the first few verses of Psalm 46, “God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble.” It didn’t feel like the pilgrimage I had created in my mind, but it soon became a true indicator of, “do you really believe I am an ever-present help in trouble?” God was with us. Surely He was in this place.