Three Dwarves of Lavaredo and the Opening of Souls
Dolomiti Series, Chapter 1
Adventure is in the eye of the beholder. Indeed, very little is needed for an exciting new exploit to jump suddenly behind some boulder or spring to life hidden in a park lane tree. It’s the same, and equally worthy, quite simple and yet, only for the brave – stepping outside your door. And nobody put it as plain and simple as our old Bilbo Baggins, “It’s a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don’t keep your feet, there is no knowing where you might be swept off to.” This is a tale of one such adventure, not as grand and legendary as There and Back Again, but still, so meaningful and dear to my heart.
Three Dwarves of Lavaredo, a story which shall be told here in separate, and yet closely knit parts, began entirely by chance, during what supposed to be a harmless, late summer walk and a first glimpse into the great realm of renowned colossal towers in the northeastern part of the mighty Dolomites. What I was blessed with on this short journey, as well as every journey made, for that is the reason why I go, I now share with fellow travellers and all friends who appreciate a good adventure. A special meaning it holds for all of us, passionate outdoor enthusiasts, to dwell under thy mountains, here, on the border of all things, regardless of our weapon of choice, be it walking, skiing, caving, climbing or flying.
The Grand Adventure
The grand adventure connecting people and Three Peaks of Lavaredo preserves its origins through times long before Insta culture and digital generations came about. It began when people first gazed upon this vast, beautiful land and fell in love with it forever, deciding to stay, to settle and establish their home under mountains, with blessings and protection of good forces of nature they believed in. Since then, almost every corner of every piece of this great land has undergone through an unthinkable transformation. I notice a small rock on the path, who would say the world would come to this. From a stone made into a tool for the hand to work with, thousands of years ago, and a jewel fashioned by master artist for the eye to desire, all the way to the frequency of a microchip running the world nowadays. All of it made from that exact same stone, crystal quartz. Wow. How things of this world are connected. Shall we ever understand it completely, or shall we remain blessed in ignorance? Alas! What questions ramble up through my mind as I walk slowly, gazing upon your splendid summits, admiring this moment in life that surrounds me wholly.
How the Wind Howls
To replace, even for a second, big city rush and hasty sequence of grey, concrete structures for this palette of yours, of tranquillity and beauty, to listen how the wind howls of this ancient place, of the elden history, of endeavours of mountaineering and climbing pioneers, of merit, of legendary Alpine warriors, of lore about dwarves, elves and creatures of every kind who adorn our fairy tales. To slowly walk along the path they first carved under these magnificent giants, allowing my Balkan soul, my rugged self to seek inspiration here, amongst the clouds, it is but a dream come true. A little bit of prose, a little bit of poetry, a word, or two with you, fellow traveller, who scrambles on similar errand and stumbles upon these pages, dare I say, welcome, welcome indeed! Words of hope may we harness throughout our thoughts and talks around merry a table against warm fireplace resisting the cold outside. I shall do my best to engrave this piece of paper in graphite of some worth to us all; as fog slowly makes her way into the valley, taste of the finest brew shall keep brave hearts warm, eager to walk outside, step into the adventure. Delight of words, blossom of imagination, nothing more, nothing less.
Alpine Heroes
I have searched under thy mountains for the Three Dwarves of Lavaredo, having heard rumours old as the ages, passed to me by two elden, greybeard Alpine heroes, battle hardened mountain wolves, leaned over a massive oaken table, talking quietly in confidence, tired after a dangerous undertaking on the north face of Cima Grande of the Three Peaks. One of Austrian, the other of Italian origin. Such a fragile thing, origin, back in the day and yet, a sight to remember today, the one to look at and marvel, the one to paint in words of awe. There they were, huddled against a small fireplace enlightened by a spent wax candle, not bothering the world outside, voicing history, lore and legend, one in verse light as thin air, the other in prose, heavy as the mountains. One more pint of the keeper’s finest brew and already they keep outvoicing each other, not through wrath of the ghosts of past who like to knock on our doors every now and then and turn merry an expression into a hateful smirk, on the contrary, through pure, brave hearts, wondrous and loud, exactly the ones which chase away dark clouds, bringing sun shining brightly and the wind, howling frankly. One understands the look in the eye of another and things were not always thus – here, in times passed, life was lost by the sword, as well by the bullet.
Ghosts of the Past
Listening them speak, grateful for the peace granted to us from above, like the most precious gift, dedicated to this land upon which we walk free, a glimpse of the past enters, stealing but a moment. Then and there, I found myself looking back when we, mere children back in the day, felt the terror of hatred between peoples on our own skin, as well as horrors of war from whose jaws, many a mother and father was not fortunate enough to return. Let it not happen again, not to anybody, not anywhere. While I sit here, in the peace and quiet of the riffugio, breathing in the original spirit of freedom, past slowly creeps upon me and the reminiscence of the ’90s in Croatia crawls along, I can’t but recall that 21st century is very well under way, vast resources, knowledge and technology stand at our disposal and we, as a civilisation, now more than ever, have the greatest responsibility to settle every conflict with wisdom and dignity, and yet, somehow we fail and fail to do it, making our small and large conflicts ever deeper. And here, right on the spot, before our very own eyes, we have a school of peaceful resolution to an armed conflict, our feet are touching the ground soaked in bloody past and heavenly forgiveness. And the evolution came. The peace has risen, created by the peoples who fought.
The war is mongering on the doorstep of Europe. In the heart of Africa. In the Middle-East. There are questions unanswered. How many have the destiny that shall bring their good fortune here, to gaze upon this beauty? How many a childhood is dead cold stolen? How many a youth disappeared in a split of a second, how many mothers shall forever wait for their dearest to knock on the door? An answer seems to elude us for some reason and every sound of a bullet, everywhere, leads to infinite number of personal and common earthquakes and disasters, no matter who the winner is and who lost, irretrievable scars remain from generation to generation, creating ever lost human beings, unable to find their peace. Let us be mindful. Only one thing I wonder, when will there be time for peace. I allow myself to be swept away with thoughts of reflection, as well as piety, light as feather and heavy as ages. I shall endeavour not to hide ’em but to write down one or two, let them dwell here, as a remembrance upon those who are no longer with us, those who sleep the silent sleep, keeping us safe from above. Thus, a moment in time keeps standing still, reminding us not to forget our humble origin and whence we came, but also, always be aware where we are going to.
Befallen by crystal clear, sunny weather of early autumn in its zenith, I begin my search for the origin of Italian direttissimas and superdirettissimas, but also, for the first confirmed mountaineering steps in the area. During this amazing, 5 hour walk into the past and present, into cultural significance of the Alpine way of life, into sports and lore, I have once again harboured priceless knowledge about people and thus, came to understand and master myself a bit more. Utterly spellbinding area of the Three Peaks of Lavaredo with its wild gorges, mountaineering, via-ferata and climbing routes for the most skilled and daring, offers also tame paths for nice family walks no matter physical stamina and preparedness, alas! I meet parents with children of all ages and lovely elden couples of life’s golden age who chase those mountains, having time of their lives, it is written in priceless smiles of the ladies and joyous smirks of the gentlemen. I meet adventurists with disability, eager to tackle life’s hardest battles on the very spot. Here, we are all the same, smiling, content, eager to move forward, full of awe and gratitude for this opportunity to open our hearts towards peace of our time on such a privileged, magnificent, heavenly mammoths of Lavaredo.
End of Chapter 1
