Corbusier called the Dolomites the greatest architecture on Earth and we were right in the heart of it.ĭolomites at dawn … a morning view of stratified towers on the way to via ferrata Francesco Berti From isolated peaks to sprawling saw-toothed ranges, everywhere you look there’s yet another cross-hatched, vertical colossus – all formed of fossilised coral reef thrust up from the seabed 50 million years ago when Italy battered into Europe. You just get a huge amount of high-altitude bang for your buck: the chance to feel like a real mountaineer while soaking up those stunning views. The four of us have got lost on every big peak in the Scottish Highlands, and plenty of small ones too.īut there we were on the Giro del Sorapiss – a grade three route, according to Cicerone’s guidebook, on a scale that rises to six – each feeling like Spider-Man as we scaled up, down and along its via ferrata sections. When people gasp at your photographs, at those giddying images of you nonchalantly hanging off a pinnacle nosing up into the stratosphere, you have to fight the urge to blurt out: “It’s actually not that hard!” We’re not even climbers. The cable, I realised, is there to be grabbed. But after about 10 minutes, I was completely at one with the cable, gripping it with both fists and even my knees – particularly when, after one ill-judged stretch, I slowly spun through 180 degrees and found myself facing outwards, feet dangling in thin air, gazing at nothing but blue skies and distant summits. The edge of the plateau that Andrew and his group went overĪt the start, I was seeking out holds, thinking this would provide a more authentic experience, letting me feel at one with the mountain. Climbers should be fully aware of the risks in advance, as well as the weather forecast, and have proper kit. The cable won’t stop you falling but it will stop you from falling too far and it has a shock absorber built in. If you have any doubts at all about your ability, it’s wise to book a guide who will assess your competence and fitness. That is not to say there are no risks and never any accidents. There are no ropes to lug around no nuts, hexes or other fiddly anchors to fasten to the rock no elaborate knots to master. These you attach to the cable, always keeping at least one latched on. Via ferrata works like this: you wear a harness with two leashes, each bearing a sturdy quick-release clip at the end. On this spectacular stretch, known as the Francesco Berti, the via ferrata opened up what would otherwise have been a preposterously treacherous descent down, through, under and across smooth slabs, notched ridges, spiky outcrops and tottering ledges that can quickly thin to nothing. Today they’re made of steel – and superbly maintained. Via ferrata translates as “the way of iron”, which is what these climbing aids were made of when they were first fixed to rock faces during the first world war, when Italian and Austrian troops fought ferocious battles on these mountains.
But now, instead of heading for the passes, we were tackling the lofty peaks – an endeavour only made possible by what may well be Italy’s greatest gift to the planet: its extraordinarily numerous and utterly electrifying via ferrata routes. We had walked right through this spellbinding landscape the year before, from north to south.
This descent, the most exhilarating of my life, was a whole new way of experiencing the Dolomites, that magnificent mountain range in northern Italy. The 1km drop on Francesco Berti via ferrata