Dolomites Revisited Part II

Day 2: Two Lakes and Three Pinnacles

View West from the Paternsattel || Olympus, f9, 1/125 s, ISO 200

Lago Misurina & Lago d'Antorno

LAGO MISURINA & LAGO D'ANTORNO - QUICK SUMMARY

Best Conditions	First thing in the morning for still waters
Challenges	Lago d'Antorno can get a bit weedy late in the year disturbing the surface of the water
Parking	€2 at either lake
Where to Stop	Any of the cafes at the north end of Misurina, Rifugio across the road at d'Antorno
Links	Lago Misurina, Lago d'Antorno

The Tre Cime must rank in the top three most recognisable mountains. Obviously you've got the Matterhorn, and then… … what? Mount Fitzroy perhaps, Mount Fuji? Okay, so it's in the top five. Whichever it is, the three limestone peaks pointing up like fingers are unmistakable. 

Any approach to the Tre Cime from the south, i.e. From the Auronzohütte,will take you past two stunning lakes that are worth the detour. I know, I know, the peaks are waiting, but they can wait a few minutes longer, they're not going anywhere. Alternatively, set off extra early to plan a 30 min break at at least one of them. 

The first lake is Lago Misurina. I've not yet shot here myself, but the classic photo is from the north along the lake looking towards the Opera Diocesana San Bernado with the lake as foreground and the mountains as a backdrop. This photo works almost all the year round and especially in the blue hour or even at night if the stars are out.

Lago d'Antorno, THAT Bridge and Tre Cime || Olympus f8, 1/60 s, ISO 250

The second is the smaller Lago d'Antorno, one of my favourite finds in the Dolomites. OK, in the meantime everyone who knows the region around Cortina knows about Lago d'Antorno, but when I first found the lake it was in the days before Instagram and I'd never seen it in any of the guidebooks.  We were driving to Tre Cime - probably the very first time back in, oh, I don't know, 2010. The road goes directly by the lake and is difficult to miss. Because of the location, surrounded by mountains, you can shoot at almost any time of day (barring midday in the summer of course), though like any open water, the surface is usually calmest in the early morning. The near absence of buildings (just the refuge) makes unspoilt photography very easy, though the proximity of the road means that you need to be prepared to clone out a car or two [hint; take two or three identical shots, optimally with a tripod - use these to create layers in your editor of choice and 'rub out' any unsightly cars - this works for people and other extraneous objects as well]. There's a path all the way round the lake, but the classic shot is practically from the roadside - the little wooden bridge with the first of the Tre Cime in the background (yes, that's the Tre Cime already, it's just not quite so recognisable from this angle). 

Both lakes work in the evening as well, so if you really are pinched for time on the way up, try and plan them in on the way down at least.

Tre Cime

Tre Cime Classic  || Olympus f9, 1/200 s, ISO 200

TRE CIME - QUICK SUMMARY

Best Conditions	Only really accessible from spring to autumn, road closed in winter
Challenges	Catching sun on the more picturesque north side only possible at sunset near the summer solstice, getting to the Paternsattel requires mountain shoes and a modicum of physical fitness
Parking	€30 at the Auronzo Hütte (toll road)
Where to Stop	Dreizinnenhütte - half way round
Links	Tre Cime

Once you've finished with the lakes, carry on up the road to the toll road. Despite the exorbitant € 30 to use the road (2019), the price is worth it as it saves you a 500 m climb over a long 5 km and allows you to park for free at the Auronzo Hütte. Things now get interesting linguistically because we're at the border between Italian- and German-speaking Dolomites, giving us bizarre combinations such as the Auronzo (I) Hütte (D). The classic route starting from here is to head east along the south side of the Tre Cime towards the Paternsattel. As you head out, keep your eyes open on the long south-east running valley down towards Auronzo. Often the mist hangs in the valley and there can also be some good contre jour sunrise shots here.

From the Patternsattel looking East || Olympus f8, 1/125 s, ISO 200

Unfortunately, the path runs too close to the three peaks to be able to get a decent photo of them. One day I'll have to try the route up to Monte Campadelle to the south in order to see whether there's a better view of the south side of the peaks from there. Even if you head a long way out along the outcrop from Rifugio Lavaredo, you can't get far enough for a decent view of the peaks, though there are a couple of lakes here that allow you to get some nice reflections of the Cima Piccola (the Laghi di Laverdo).

From the Paternsattel || Olympus f9, 1/125 s, ISO 200

At the Paternsattel there's a classic view along the north faces of the peaks as well as a good view over to the Dreizinnenhütte. The north face of the peaks is by far the most photographed side, the trouble is, being north-facing, it's almost impossible to shoot them in the sun. A few weeks either side of the summer solstice it's possible to catch them in the dying light at sunset, otherwise you'll just have to be a bit creatve and definitely avoid shooting in bright midday sun. Sometimes the best you can hope for is some atmospheric mist!

Rautkofel || Olympus f9, 1/100 s, ISO 200

From the saddle there are two paths to the Dreizinnenhütte, an upper one for mountaineers and a lower one for the tourists. If you've got the footwear and the head for heights (and the weather's good), I'd stick to the upper path, but do watch out for rock-falls, both from above and that you don't cause one onto the path below.

On the way to the Dreizinnenhütte || Olympus f9, 1/500 s, ISO 200

We've always taken the high road and when we were there in October we weren't disappointed. The weather was a bit, well, meh, but about half way across, the sun suddenly started poking through the clouds, bringing the otherwise dull mountains to life. The red flanks of the Rautkofel really stuck out, just begging to be shot as the spotlights strafed the valley.

A "B" Shot at Best || Olympus f9, 1/200 s, ISO 200

Just before you get to the Dreizinnenhütte, watch out for a path off to the left heading towards a WW I bunker where there are outlooks both over the Tre Cime and the Rautkofel that form a nice frame. A judiciously used fill-in flash will help you get the exposure of the framing rock right, and if you have a tripod with you, you might want to practice your focus stacking skills. The only thing I don't like about this photo is that the icicle is soft, otherwise it might have been quite a cool image.

A Bit Better - Looking West || Olympus f9, 1/250 s, ISO 200

After stocking up at the hut, the path runs along the high stoney plateau to the Langalm and the Forcella del Col de Medo. There's not a great deal of photographic interest on the route back apart from a few smaller ponds near the Langalm.

Day 3: Five Towers - Cinque Torri

Cinque Torri Classico || Olympus f7.1, 1/400 s, ISO 200

CINQUE TORRI - QUICK SUMMARY

Best Conditions	Winter for the icicles, early summer for snow-melt
Challenges	Tripod inadvisable due to narrow walkways / avoid midday sun in summer / check opening times (link below)
Parking	Free at Rifugio Cinque Torri
Where to Stop	Rifugio Cinque Torri, Rifugio Nuvolau, Rifugio Scoiattoli, Rifugio Averau
Links	Cinque Torri

From the Fanes Valley || Olympus f11, 2.5 s, ISO 200

At certain times of the year (and certain times of day), it is possible to drive all the way up to the Rifugio Cinque Torri from the SR48. Otherwise you'll either have to take the Cinque Torri cable car or hike up the 400 m from the valley to Rifugio Scoiattoli (2255 m). There are some great perspectives on the Cinque Torri from near the Rifugio Scoiattoli, especially using the paths as leading lines. Alternatively, you can walk up to the Rifugio Nuvolau (2574 m) via the Forcella Nuvolau (2400 m) for a great gallery view over the Cinque Torri, dwarfed by the 3225 m Tofana in the background. There is a round tour here off the far end of the Nuvolau that brings you back through stony terrain to the Cinque Torri, though I wouldn't recommend it to anyone without climbing gear and the route back isn't very well marked. The hills here are again dotted with larches which turn an attractive yellow in late October (depending on the season). Exceptionally, Rifugio Averau at the Forcella Nuvolau is open until late October, providing a useful stopping point.

Below the Rifugio Cinque Torri || Olympus f6.3, 1/200 s, ISO 200

When we were here in October, we were able to drive up and park pretty much at the Rifugio 5 Torri and were greeted with a wonderful view up to the towers. Pure blue skies aren't necessarily the thing that a photographer looks for, but the day started this way and the orange rock of the Torre Grande looked magnificent in the morning sun with the light behind us. It was one of those occasions where it would actually have been better to leave the polariser behind. The path up from the rifugio takes you almost within touching distance of the main tower and then on to the ridge leading to the top of the cable car, but by the time we'd got there, a mere 30 min or so after leaving the car, the weather was looking very different. The wind had got up and there were leaden-looking clouds headed towards us on the western horizon.

Our initial plan had been to explore the mini Klettersteig/via ferrata on the impressive-looking Averau , but as we climbed towards the Rifugio Averau on the saddle we were seriously doubting whether this was possible, let alone sensible:We experienced at least two snow flurries on the way up to the hut and so instead of heading straight up the mountain it was coffee and Linzertorte in the comfort of the rifugio. Cold hands and an untried Klettersteig aren't the best combination. About half an hour later, coffee and cake safely inside, things were looking up and so we headed up the small track leading to the bottom of the climb.

Sharon in the Averau Chimney || Olympus f7.1, 1/60 s, ISO 1600

We took refuge in the lee of the mountain to gear up just as a young couple started the climb ahead of us. We could hear them but not see them above us as they attempted to negotiate the Einstieg, the start of the climb. Suspiciously their voices were not getting any quieter and there seemed to be a lot of discussion going on. As we headed out to clip in to the starting wire, we found them coming the other way - the first length of cable had been too much for them. A little daunted, particularly as it was my first serious climb since my knee operation, we pressed on. The first little section really is a little challenging, but after that there's a delightful chimney with a ladder section, followed by a short section over smooth rock - one of those short sections that you can bullshit your way up using muscle reserves, but at the same time one that you didn't want to go on for too long, because you know that those reserves are limited. Fortunately this wasn't the case and after the exposed rock the route turned into a regular dolomite climb with good grips and - more importantly - footholds. The Klettersteig itself is relatively short but then turns into a longer, pathless scramble up though loose stone to the summit. A relatively thankless ascent apart from one point where there's a cleft in the rock giving you a marvellous view down over the route up to the Nuvolau. Despite waiting for a few minutes for a gap in the cloud to light up the path there was nothing doing here apart from taking the obligatory documentary shot. It would be worth coming up again some time with a temperature inversion, but I definitely wouldn't bring a group up here.

Moody Tofana || Olympus f7.1, 1/1000, ISO 200

The views from the top of the 2,649 m Averau are pretty decent, looking out towards the Marmolada to the west and the much nearer Tofana to the north. The wind (as well as a lack of snacks) proscribed  a longer break on the top and so after a few minutes we went back down. The descent is pretty much like the ascent and so not worth further reporting, unlike the splendid lunch at the rifugio with wonderful views over the southern approach to the infamous Passo Giau.

Croda da Lago from Nuvolau || Olympus f8, 1/320 s, ISO 200

After lunch we took the narrow ridge path to Nuvolau, all the while waiting for the best light on the Cinque Torri, which I've documented before here together with some thoughts on photo editing. This remains my favourite photo of 2019 and I've had it printed on aluminium dibond, initially for a photo exhibition at work, which unfortunately was cancelled due to Covid 19.

The Same Again with Larch || Olympus f7.1, 1/250 s, ISO 200

The views from the top of the Nuvolau are also unrivalled, particularly over the Lagazuoi and Croda da Lago. Again, there's a short Klettersteig off the end of the Nuvolau that brings you back to the Cinque Torri, but I wouldn't recommend it without a harness unless you're very sure-footed.

Croda da Lago  || Olympus f8, 1/80 s, ISO 200

Other points of interest in the vicinity: Rifugio Lagazuoi (also reachable with the cable car, fantastic views of Croda da Lago), Passo di Giau (no explanation needed).

Day4: Lago di Braies / Pragser Wildsee

The Iconic Lago di Braies Rowing Boats || Olympus f8, 1/200 s, ISO 1600

LAGO DI BRAIES - QUICK SUMMARY

Best Conditions	Open all year, no boats in winter. Water stillest in the early morning
Challenges	Too many Instagramers and Influencers later in the day
Parking	€5-6 at the lake
Where to Stop
Links	Lago di Braies

A couple of years ago (probably when I started on Instagram actually), my attention was caught by a series of photos of a lake surrounded by mountains with a picturesque boathouse and iconic wooden rowing boats. As the lake was only a little way off our route home we decided to see what all the fuss was about.

Lago di Braies Reflections || Olympus f8, 1/125 s, ISO 400

It was still frosty when we reached the car park for the lake and the sun was still low below the mountains on the east bank, making good photographs of the boathouse almost impossible. We walked all the way around the lake, which took a good 90 min including photos and waiting for the sun to finally kiss the western side of the lake shore. By the time we got back to the chapel, the Insta' generation was out in force, posing on the banks and in the row-boats. It was time to head home.

di Braies Sycamore || Olympus f8, 1/160 s, ISO 250

Dolomites Revisited Part I

There's something very special about the Dolomites to me (yeah, I get it, I'm hardly alone in my opinion, but give me a chance to explain myself). Hardly anyone will dispute that this exquisite mountain range is extremely photogenic for a number of reasons, but it's more than that. We've been coming here on and off for over 17 years - I know exactly when we first came because our kids celebrated their first birthday in Seis am Schlern (Alpe di Siusi if you're an italophone). Our choice of venue was influenced in part by photos of Alpenglühen on the Rosengarten that I'd seen in the German alpine press.

Forcella Staunies - the Since Decommissioned Cable Car and Refuge || Panasonic FZ1000

But it's more than just 17 years of history. I've been pondering for a while what is so special about the region to me. We've travelled all over the Alps over the years, from the Mont Blanc massive in the west to the Säntis in north east Switzerland, from the German Allgäu around Oberstdorf to the high mountains of Austria and there's not a corner that doesn't have it's own special character and appeal. So why the Dolomites?

The Inaccessible-Looking Paternkofel || Panasonic FZ1000

Apart from the general picturesqueness (is that a word?) and many fond memories - including several hiding in tents waiting for the rain to stop, I think it's the apparent inaccessibility of the peaks that turn out to be achievable after all. Case in point is the Paternkofel pictured above; the picture is of Sharon enjoying a late lunch at the Dreizinnenhütte just after having climbed this mountain. In a way it's an allegory about life in general to me. The problems we face sometimes appear insurmountable, but many times, if we follow the trail and keep putting one foot in front of the other, we'll get where we want to go. I'm sure others could express it more eloquently, but I think this sums it up.

Field Gentians || Panasonic FZ1000

A Tale of Two Tours

Two tours spring to mind that epitomise this apparent inaccessibility, both of which we undertook whilst camping in Cortina in 2015, two tours which almost ended my mountaineering days for good as I abraded my way through the cartilage behind my kneecaps. The first one is presently no longer possible without an overnight bivouac in tricky territory - the Ivano Dibona via ferrata above Cortina. The ridge looks impossible from the valley and remains impressive close up with its ladders and bridges. Despite having set off with the first cable cars from Passo Tre Croci, we missed the last gondola down and ended up descending the whole 1700 m (5,500 ') by foot.

One of the Bridges on Ivano Dibona  || Panasonic FZ1000

View from the Ridge: A Dolomite Panorama  || Panasonic FZ1000

The second tour a couple of days later took us up the impervious-looking Paternkofel right next to the Tre Cime. We'd left far too late, waited for ages at the toll station just after Lago d'Antorno and got stuck behind coach loads of tourists who had absolutely no place on the trails we were using! Just before the Dreizinnenhütte, a path branches off to the right up along the ridge. The ferrata starts in WWI tunnels and turns into a grand scramble up a cleft before climbing up the back of the peak. Unfortunately we weren't the only people who wanted to go up that day, but sometimes these things have to be done.

Hardly Alone on the Paternkofel  || Panasonic FZ1000

Bringing it Forward

Fast forward to autumn 2019 and for the first time in 18 years Sharon and I can plan our vacations without regard to the kids and so we took a mini break in Cortina over the long German reunification weekend at the beginning of October. We knew that we'd be arriving on an improving forecast and so it didn't bother us too much that the weather was less than perfect driving up over the Brenner pass. What we hadn't appreciated was that the rain in the valleys had been a smattering of snow on the high peaks all around us and that consequently the rock walls surrounding Cortina would be garnished with a layer of snow.

Out the Front Door || Olympus f7.1, 1/100 s, ISO 400

Once we had settled into our cosy little Air B&B it was time to unpack the cameras and enjoy the late afternoon light hitting the Sorapiss massive. We'd come fully armed for three and a half days of photography in the surrounding mountains. We've come to photography from the perspective of mountaineers rather than the other way around and I think that this will always be the case for us.

Our first little trip on the hillside behind the farm we were staying on was very muddy, taking us to the top of a little cable car. The view included basically the whole of the Cortina surroundings; Monte Cristallo, Sorapiss, Croda di Lago and Tofana - essentially the Who's Who of the great and good in the Dolomites.

Punta Nera || Olympus f8, 1/200 s, ISO 200

Just walking round the little hamlet of Chiamulera gave us a buzz for the upcoming three days. We'd not been long back from a photographically frustrating week on The Gower; despite having mostly decent weather I'd found getting images that I felt satisfied with extremely frustrating. Here in the Dolomites not only was I practically on home turf, the weather looked set to be interesting (as opposed to good - the hiker and the photographer have quite different ideas regarding what constitutes 'good' weather). The game was afoot!

Day 1: One Lake - Lago Federa

There are some cracking shots of Lake Federa in the autumn, looking from the western shore of this small mountain tarn eastwards towards Sorapiss. The small ridge between the lake and the Cortina valley is covered in fir and larch and in October the larch turn from their customary green to a glorious yellow.

Forest Mushrooms || Olympus f7.1, 1/8 s, ISO 1600

Walking up through the woods from below Pocol on the SR48 we kept our eyes out for mushrooms - always worth watching for at this time of year when walking in the forest. The area guide that we used for the hike suggested taking a detour to a local outcrop, Becco d'Ajal. What looks like a completely inaccessible pillar from below turns out to be an easily climbed path once you get up there. The top of the pillar isn't big but houses the ruins of a WWI lookout post. The panoramic views from the top are incredible and I could imagine camping out there in the summer to capture some great astro images.

Ruin Atop Becco d'Ajal Becco d'Ajal from Above

As we climbed through the forest the green larches were getting paler and paler and we were hoping for some strong yellows at the 2,000 m high lake. Unfortunately this was not to be; despite the recent snowfalls we were about two weeks too early. Fortunately, the hut was still open. Paradoxically, compared to the northern alps, the refuges and cable cars in the Dolomites seem to close quite early - towards the end of September. The Rifugio Croda di Lago was still serving cheesy polenta on the sun terrace though. The hut remains open throughout October and this would be a great place to spend the night, catching the late evening and early morning sun. I've seen some great sunrise images from Andy Mumford looking along the lake to the south towards the Becco di Mezzodi.

Lago Federa - Only a Touch of Yellow || Olympus f8, 1/50 s, ISO 200

After lunch we explored the western slopes above the lake trying to get the best angle on the lake and the Sorapiss. Scrambling up about 50 m above the lake seemed to give a good perspective, but if you want a reflection you need to be right down on the water. Tofana and Cinque Torri || Olympus f8, 1/320 s, ISO200 The descent had us facing the Tofana and the Cinque Torri all the way through the forest. And it's a long way, especially on dodgy knees. Croda da Lago at Dawn from the East || Olympus f8, 1/80 s, ISO 200 LAGO FEDERA: QUICK SUMMARY Best Conditions All year round, but particularly autumn for the larches Challenges The lake is at least a 2 h trek from the road in mountainous territory Parking Various points along the SR48 Einkehr Rifugio Croda da Lago Links Rifugio (Italian)

Shooting On The Doorstep

Where do you take the majority of your photographs? If you're anything like me, most of your photos will be from vacations or excursions. I think that most of us started photography as a way of documenting what we were seeing away from home so that we could (a) share our impressions with friends and family when we returned, and (b) have something to remember those trips by. We didn't need to record everyday objects because our community knew what they were and we had them as daily reminders all around.

Sitting on the Dock of the Bay - Boys at the Local Lake || f7.1, 1/50 s, ISO 100

Most of my photos are still taken on trips to the mountains or visits to my parents back in the UK. What I am noticing, however, is that unless I'm really lucky the first time I go to a new location, I'm getting the better shots on my second and third visits. I've seen first hand what did and didn't work, I've spotted where a composition could have been improved with different light or conditions and I can plan my trip accordingly. A good example of this was our recent trip to Cortina. We had three and a half days to take photos and we knew roughly what the weather was going to be doing on each of those days. I knew I wanted clear skies for the Lago di Croda so that we could see across the deep valley and I knew that a few clouds and some mountain mist wouldn't hurt on our trek round the Tre Cime. I also had a much better idea about what time of day I wanted to be where (and roughly how long it would take to get there). So it often pays to be familiar with the area that we're shooting.

Lago Federa || f8, 1/100 s, ISO 200

Knowing where the sweet spot was on the slope above Lago Federa (above) helped me set up this shot. I would have preferred it if the larches were yellowing more, but that was my take home message this time; early October is still too early, plus I learned that the Rifugio is open until the end of October. Lessons for next time.

Similarly, I knew from experience that it was best to avoid direct midday sunlight on the north-facing Tre Cime and so we planned the circumnavigation for a day when we knew there would be at least some cloud cover.

Classic Tre Cime || f9, 1/200 s, ISO 200

I've recently taken to regular trips to the local woods with my camera in various conditions, most commonly on quiet Sunday mornings to see what I can spot. As I discover new tricks and techniques, I can practice them here so that when I am 'in the field' those things will seem like second nature. It also stops me from getting rusty between trips.

Wood Sorrel in Bloom || f4.5, 1/80 s, ISO 1600

Not only that, but every photo I take helps train my composition skills and brings me closer to finding the right aperture for each shot. I'm still working on which f-stop I need for close-up work to get the optimal depth of field. Believe me, there's a lot of trial and error in that process. Normally I end up opening up too much and ending up with a focal depth you could balance a knife on. Apparently, you can have too much of a good thing.

The garden is another super place to practice close-up shots (I hesitate to use the word macro because I know it has a very specific technical meaning). Perhaps detail shots is another way of expressing it to distinguish it from other landscape shots. We have a relatively extensive (actually too extensive) garden in rural Bavaria, about 30 miles west of Munich. Over the last 18 years we've turned it into a cottage garden oasis, a kind of home-from-home. As well as cherry and pear blossom in the spring, I've planted some snakes-head fritillaries and buddleia and we have some beautiful iris with their fine-veined flowers:

Garden Iris || f4, 1/500 s, ISO 200

I'm really looking forward to spring this year. In autumn I was given some cultivated lady's slipper rhizomes which were duly planted. They should produce some beautiful specimins to shoot (no pun intended). All this flower and nature photography on the doorstep also gives me a badly needed oportunity to practice my post-processing skills.

The other local spot for me is the Ammersee, a local lake that's popular with photographers. From the northern end you can usually see the Alps in the far distance which provides a great backdrop, depending on the focal length being used. And once the sun's down and you're sure there's not going to be an explosion of colour in the blue-hour, there's always time for an Aperol Spritz in the Strandbar at Stegen!

What's SUP? Sunset at the Ammersee || f7.1, 1/125 s, ISO 100

Taking photos on the doorstep also gives you freedom to experiment and fail. You don't want to take the risk of screwing up photos from a once-in-a-lifetime holiday and you might not have the time to practice the more technical arts such as HDR images, focus-stacking or astro photography. What about panning or zoom photos? High-key or low-key shots? All techniques you can safely practice within a few kilometres of home and if you muck it up, well there's always tomorrow!

So, don't leave your camera(s) in the bag when you're at home - get out into your local countriside (assuming you have some) or town and practice those skills.

Where are your favourite local spots?