The next morning, the weather was fine. Right after breakfast, I jumped into the car and headed for Misurina. It was a refreshing morning. There were only a few cars on the road, and the sky was endlessly blue and high above me. Filled with anticipation, I drove on. Lake Misurina was beautiful as well, shining in the morning sun.
Before long, however, more and more cars began to appear along the roadside. A toll road was supposed to begin at the entrance to Tre Cime. Soon traffic slowed to a crawl. Then, to my surprise, a policeman near the entrance was waving a flag. The parking lot ahead was already full, the road was closed, and I was told to make a U-turn. To make matters worse, a long line of tourists waiting for the bus stretched along the roadside.
Reluctantly, I turned back and searched for parking, but everywhere was full. Hoping to find a place along the shoulder, I drove farther on. Only then did I realize that I had thrown myself right into the middle of the holiday-season tourist rush. The line of cars seemed endless. At last, I managed to park on the roadside, but it meant walking about twenty minutes back to the original spot.
Still somewhat stunned, I paid twenty euros for a round-trip bus ticket and joined the end of the queue. Buses came and went, but each time some people were left behind. I thought to myself, This is hopeless. Perhaps I should give up for today and come back at dawn tomorrow. But after waiting for nearly an hour, I was finally squeezed into a packed bus.
I entered Tre Cime about two hours later than planned. The circular route was supposed to take four or five hours. Since it was already past ten o’clock, I felt a little uneasy about whether my aging legs, never very fast, would manage it. But there were many people, the weather was fine, and I told myself there was no need to hurry. So I set off.
From the Auronzo Hut just above the parking area, I began walking along a broad, level path beneath the rock walls. Streams of tourists continued ahead of me. After thirty or forty minutes, I reached Lavaredo Hut. From there, the trail divides into two routes: one climbs directly upward with the hut on the right, while the other ascends more gently in zigzags. Both soon lead to the scenic Lavaredo Pass. Since it takes less than an hour to reach this point, many tourists come this far.
From there, the famous Three Peaks finally came fully into view at close range. From left to right they are called Cima Piccola, Cima Grande, and Cima Ovest. Beyond this point, the trail continues on to Locatelli Hut, but I chose a shorter route, passing beneath the North Face and returning to Auronzo Hut via Langalm Hut.
The North Face of Cima Grande rises in sheer vertical cliffs, and it was almost beyond imagination that anyone could climb such a wall. Yet I walked on with renewed emotion, thinking that this was the very place where legends such as Riccardo Cassin, Walter Bonatti, Andrea Oggioni, and Hermann Buhl had once been active.
Though the trail was rocky, small alpine flowers bloomed here and there, bringing moments of quiet delight. Around Langalm Hut, the landscape opened into grassy meadows, where people rested here and there in small groups. I too lay on the grass for a while, gazing at the distant view of the peaks.
I had hoped to descend to Misurina while the sun was still high and rest there for a while, but the parking areas—including every roadside space—were overflowing with cars, leaving no room at all. Regretfully, I drove straight back to the hotel.
And so, only Cortina d’Ampezzo remained for the final day of my journey through the Alps. (To be continued)
English version prepared with AI assistance
(Originally written in Japanese)
Japanese version: