The Dolomite Giants:Tre Cime and Gruppo di Sella
(Part III)

(Above: On the S48, Lago di Misurina)

After re-emerging from the Tre Cime road, I rejoined the S48 heading south. At the bottom of a steep downhill was a very, very pretty lake, Lago di Misurina. Set against the stunning backdrop of Gruppo di Cristallo to its west and the Cima Capini to its east, the lake, unfortunately, had long been "discovered." This fact was attested to by the truckloads of tourists walking around and by the numerous refreshment stands and guesthouses chasing their money.

I continued on the S48, the Vie delle Dolomiti I think it was called, as the road made its way around the southern side of the Cristallo group, going over the mild Passo Tre Croci in the process. The climb to Passo Tre Croce (1,805 meters) from the eastern side was quite easy, with only a short 10% stretch near the summit presenting some semblance of a challenge.

(Above: The relatively easy eastern side of Passo Tre Croci)

(Above: Going down the western side of Passo Tre Croci on the way to Cortina d'Ampezzo)

A few downhill kilometers from Passo Tre Croci is Cortina d’Ampezzo, site of the 1956 Winter Olympics. I expected the town to be postcard-pretty, fashionable reputation and all. But much like Engadine’s St. Moritz, the town, without snow, looked a bit…bare. The image that came to mind was that of seeing a middle-aged cabaret singer, face stripped of make-up, hair in rollers, getting out of bed on a Sunday morning. Well, maybe that was a bit harsh. Anyway, the town was somewhat of a letdown, architecturally trapped in the 60’s. I bet the kitchen counters in Cortina are still formica avocado green. In any case, the place was in hibernation. I suspect it’s much livelier during the ski season.

(Above: Cortina d'Ampezzo and the Gruppo delle Marmarole)

I didn’t linger longer than was necessary for me to take a quick snack; I finished a banana and remounted my bike to climb out of the Ampezzo valley. The hills out of Cortina were actually quite sharp. The first two kilometers of the road to Pocol were residential. But the views improved the higher I climbed, especially after the road swung around and above the western side of the city.

(Above: Um...Pocol, 20m)

My next destination, Passo di Falzarego, lay 16 kilometers away. I have not read much about this pass, except that it was 2,105 meters high, so I didn’t really know what to expect. But first I had to overcome a steep 3-4 kilometer stretch to Pocol.

The climb to Passo Falzarego was through the heart of the Dolomites and it turned out to be quite scenic and fairly challenging. This climb gained approximately 900 meters (from Cortina), though interspersed over 16 kilometers and a couple of flat stretches. The route provided good views of the impressive Dolomite peaks such as the Tofane group to the north, especially of Tofana di Rozes (3,225m) and its distinctive sloping SW face which looked like an upside-down flat iron. The road forked at the summit, one headed northwest to Passo di Valparola (2,192m) and the valley of San Cassiano and the other—the one I took—south towards the mighty Marmolada range.

(Below: Looking back to the final meters of the eastern approach to Passo di Falzarego)

(Below: Passo di Falzarego)

To get from Passo Falzarego to Passo Pordoi, I had to drop 700 meters down and negotiate several fun turns (17 numbered ones, to be exact) to the town of Andras, and then follow the S48 as it hugged the eastern slope of the Col di Lama (with outstanding views of Alleghe far far below and of Marmolada’s snowfields).

(Above: The fun descent down the western side of Passo di Falzarego)

In fact, this section of the S48 roughly paralleled the road up Passo de Fedaia, with which the S48 was separated by a steep canyon and the northern Marmolada peaks. After a few flattish miles, I arrived at the southeastern base of the storied Gruppo di Sella.

(Above: Looking south towards the Marmolada from Andraz)

The eastern approach to Passo Pordoi (2,239m) "officially" began at Arabba, which was not, as its sounding name would suggest, in the middle-east somewhere, but in Italian Sudtirol. Alas, the town didn’t quite live up to the exotic promise of its appelation, but was rather nondescript. Almost all the restaurants, bakeries, and cafes were closed save for one. I nourished myself with a nutritionally suspect meal comprising two glasses of Coca Cola, a bag of cheese-flavored crisps, and a hard cookie that had been dipped in chocolate and studded with roasted nuts. I was sugar-boosted for Pordoi!

(Above: On the S48 to Arabba and Passo Pordoi)

The Pordoi climb gained 630 meters in its nine kilometers over 33 numbered turns. The lower third of it was rather ugly actually. Then the middle turns came in bunches and the numbers climbed quickly and I got the misimpression that I was making faster progress than I really was. Compared to the Tre Cime de Lavaredo climb, or even the climb to Passo San Pelegrino, Pordoi was not too severe, but the cumulative effects of the day’s, and the previous days’ efforts, made the climb exhausting for me.

(Above: The lower eastern section on the climb to Passo Pordoi)

Climbing east to west, I got an impressive view of the valley down below becoming progressively smaller and less distinct; up ahead, the imposing presence of the Gruppo di Sella, which looked like two round layers of mocha cake between whipped cream, loomed ever larger (honestly, that was what my notes said—mocha cake and whipped cream!). I had read from the OCD guide that a rider had reported cattle on the road halfway up and sure enough, a herd(? a moo?) of cows had planted their collective bums smack in the middle of the road. I was stressed; I knew that cows are stupid animals (that may sound insensitive, but, evolutionarily accurate) and probably couldn’t tell the difference between a tired cyclist minding his own business and annoying car-tourists harassing them and pointing cameras at their bovine faces. I could just see the headline on the British tabloids: "The Cow That Wouldn’t Moo-ve: Cyclist Meats His Maker"

(Above: The middle part of the climb to Passo Pordoi, note cattle on the road)

From 7,000 feet, the late-afternoon sky appeared a rich, deep cobalt blue, like a uniformly graded sky wash of a landscape in watercolor. Contrasted against the green and orange hues of the hills and the peaks, nature’s palette looked just right. But the colors also reminded me of the lateness of the day. Owing to my 10:30 start, it was 17:00 by the time I reached the summit of Passo Pordoi, with Passo di Sella and Passo Gardena still to come.

(Below: Passo Pordoi and a tourist saluting the sign)

Last Updated: January ,(, /),(