The Dolomite Pass Pordoi

Saturday 3 July 2003. We look back on an excursion again today, heading back into and up the Dolomite mountas via the Pass Pordoi.

Hairpin bends and spectacular views were the order of the day.

There was a familiar voice as another Leger party got on the coach. I turned to see Christina who had been our guide in Amsterdam! "I take you round the red light district here?" she shouted down the length of a suddenly stunned silent coach...

Ever wondered what the Winter Olympics ski jumps look like in summer? Scary. They look scary!

We reached the Pordoi Pass. This reaches an altitude of 2,239 metres (7,346 ft) and we started climbing 9.4 kilometres (5.84 miles) ago with an average gradient of 6.8% - glad I wasn't travelling by pushbike... Helena, our guide for the day, was soon booking tickets for us all to go up the Sass Pordoi.

That wasn't a spelling mistake. Sass Pordoi is a mountain at 2,952 m (9,685 ft), whose summit can be reached by funicular from Pordoi Pass. These were large cable cars, not the small ones. They held a fair amount of people so once we had our tickets it didn't take long before we were heading skywards!

They set off climbing at quite a steep angle too. We were amongst the last people on, so had a good view looking downwards. I've never been particularly bothered by heights providing I'm not in the process of falling from them, but not everyone on the coach felt able to attempt the trip up the mountain.

It was a long way up even on the cable car. We felt our ears pop a couple of times as we ascended and the air got thinner.

At the top of the mountain there were a couple of gullies and the cable car made use of them, passing between walls of rock on three sides as it neared the top station.

As we reached the summit and got out to walk atop the plateau of the mountain top we could see that the cable car station actually overhung the edge.

Looking back down the way we came up we could see only a cluster of buildings without being able to make out much detail. The sun's rays lit up the tops of surrounding mountains and the path of the valleys far below.

Up here on the rock plateau it was decidedly chilly. Admittedly I was only wearing a t-shirt... My arm started to tingle with cold. When I looked, tiny ice crystals or snow flakes were landing on me. Time to go back down!

As we waited for the cable car it started to snow a bit harder and we crammed into the first available car shivering and clapping our arms around ourselves trying get warm again.

We were all on the coach again apart from a Chinese mother and daughter who had gone wandering around independently instead of going up the cable car. They turned up 20 minutes late and tried to blame it on Helena telling her that she had told them the wrong time - even though the rest of us had obviously gotten there on time. Helena was having none of it. "Don't argue with Mama!" she said in a voice that brought on a sudden storm complete with thunder and lightning...

Lake Garda and Northern Italy, 2003 Index

Down In Time For Tea And Thunder

Wednesday 16 August 2000. The trip back down the mountain was again one that left some of the passengers unable to look outside at the steep drop!

The water that flows out from under the glacier at first takes on a muddy appearance as it is full of bits of rock and frozen detritus that the glacier has scraped away over the centuries. It collects in a lake which overflows here and which in turn fills a lower lake where the rubbish sinks to the bottom leaving the water to purify a bit.

Here you can see the difference in height between the two bodies of water and the difference in colour of the water.

At the bottom end of this lower lake are two enormous dams, built to withstand ice as well as water. The brighter patch above the lake in the top right corner is a glimpse of white water cascading from the lake at the lower edge of the glacier whilst at the left of the picture large patches of ice can be seen even in August.

The road winds down the pass in a snaking series of hairpin bends. Some people refused to look. Others kept up a less-than-soothing running commentary.

As it happened there was no need to make up horror stories - at one bend we passed a few cars stopped next to a motorbike that had run off the road. The biker looked in a bad way, flat on his back with someone pumping his chest...

We came through a short tunnel and to a patch of snow. Chris stopped the coach and the younger passengers shot out to play for 2 minutes.

12 year old Sarah was most indignant because Chris told her to wipe her pants clean before getting on the coach - she had fallen on her behind!

After our meal at the hotel that night, we set out to walk to Zell for an Austrian beer festival. We got half a mile and the heavens opened. Thunder and lightning flashed around us and we sheltered under the eaves of a small shed between the local and main railway lines.

"It'll slacken off in a minute," said Miss Franny confidently. The storm moved from the mountains to directly overhead. The rain got harder and harder and it went dark.

The shed was no shelter now. We got to the road running alongside the railway and sheltered under the porch of someone's house. They must have heard us talking because the door opened and an elderly couple, after realising we didn't speak German, motioned us to step inside. We were soaked and dripping by now so I declined - we would have wet their carpets and their porch was keeping the worst off us. We thanked them and, bless them, they went back in and then came back with an umbrella for us.

An hour later we were still there. It had now gone fully dark as night approached... The rain was so hard that the train signals shone red beams across the sky.

I took a photo using flash. The flashgun lit the drops of rain up and on the screen of the digital camera we saw just how many drops were in the air in whatever very small fraction of a second the flash fired for (somwhere between 1/200 and 1/1,000th of a second).

This photo became the cause of much hilarity amongst the other passengers for the rest of the holiday! Every time rain splashed the coach windows or we passed a puddle there came cries of "Quick! Are you going to photograph it???"

Eventually we gave up, knocked on the door to give the umbrella back and thank the owners and then we just ran for it back to the hotel. One good thing came out of it though - the lightning hit and stopped the church clock opposite our bedroom window. We had a blissful bell-free morning! Oh... and the beer festival was called off due to the storm.

Return to Austria 2000 Index

The High Alpine Road to Grossglockner

Wednesday 19 August 2003. We are on a coach, heading for the Grossglockner glacier.

This is the morning coffee stop, already high up in the mountains, but without a great deal of snow...

Mum has recovered from her bit of sunstroke and is carrying a cardigan today, though she says it's too hot to put on.

The view opposite the roadside cafe. Tumbling waterfalls. The locals say all the snow has melted, leaving only the permafrost ice on the high peaks.

Fran and I have been to the glacier before and we are shocked when we see it. It seems a lot smaller than it was in 2000.

Grossglockner peaks at 3,798 metres (12,461 ft) above sea level - this being measured against the level of the Adriatic Sea. It's the highest mountain in Austria and the highest in the Alps east of the Brenner Pass. From it's peak you can see for 140 miles or 150 miles if you count atmospheric refraction. Personally I've made it a habit not to count atmospheric refraction... Anyway it's high up. The views to north, south, east and west reach as far as places I've never heard of in my life... It is the second largest mountain in the Alps (to Mont Blanc) when measured from peak to the foot of the mountain.

So... having come up, we'd better go down again. The covered road on the left of the photo is a protection against avalanches. The meltwater from the glacier is trapped in a dam on the far side of the lake, from where it runs down a gully that remained hidden from the road into the reservoir.

Back down the hairpin bends we go, swaying merrily from side to side, looking at times down long vertical drops!

Return to Austrian Tyrol Index 2003