Morning winter camp outside the Buttermilks in California's Eastern Sierra

Last spring I made the conscious decision to not let the bike rule my year. Meaning, I did not want to focus on racing a road bike and all the time required to train – I wanted to let my year flow, do whatever sounded good at the time, travel to different places, do a little of everything, and especially to get back to what I used to be most passionate about. Climbing.

Dan Patitucci on Supercrack, Indian Creek, Utah

From 1989 to about 1996 I did little else. It was time spent doing anything but working. Little did I know it was an investment in my future as an athlete, part of the outdoor industry and finally as a professional mountain sport photographer. Time well spent. Later, I mellowed out on the climbing schedule to study photography and figure out exactly what it was I was going to do. Hooking up with Janine established a vision, we committed to being outdoor photographers and once again I was both climbing and shooting climbing.

As our business grew we evolved towards other subjects. But lately, the bug is back, I am ready to climb, or more accurately I am ready to go on a climbing trip. There are few things like it, especially in the States if one knows where to go and how to live; car camping in the Eastern Sierra sage, sleeping beneath the stars on a clear Sierra night, waking up with a wall of granite as your objective. Bliss.

Moonlit camp at Iceberg Lake beneath Mt. Whitney

Ahead of us are six weeks cruising the US; our old playground of the Eastern High Sierra, Indian Creek, Yosemite and finishing up at Smith Rock. What makes this trip extra special is the fact that we are doing it all with Italian friends – the first being Alberto De Giuli, who has never been on US soil. To see my own nation through his eyes will be interesting, he has been entertained by me in his home country, now I get to revisit what is so familiar but once again experience the newness of it all.

First up for Alberto: Acclimating to the art of being a dirtbag American climber. It is nearly impossible to be a true dirtbag in Europe. I have tried to tap into my roots but truly, it seems hopeless as I get more and more civilized with each road trip. Just the other night we bivvied in our car at the Tre Cime before climbing, but having eaten lunch that day at a three star hotel followed by dinner at a Michelin Two Star, Brunello buzz and all, this hardly qualified as “dirtbagging” it. As we settled into our car for the night we watched some nearby Germans cooking on their camp stove, Janine posed the question, “I wonder what they’re having for dinner?” At this we roared, but soon we realized that we truly do miss some of the simpler things.

In the coming weeks we hope to share some of what we are up to, check back here for stories, reports and of course loads of photos.

Some things have really changed: Not much film cannister labeling these days

Other things haven't changed at all: Cannot wait to drink Peet's in the Sierra backcountry

Thankfully, the days of living on the road in an '84 VW are long over

Good memories from an epic: Bedside first aid kit & climbing gear

Off we go... YeeHAW

Walking through WWI trenches, Monte Lagazuoi

The bottom entrance to the Lagazuoi Gallery

A Historical Walk to Dinner through the Lagazuoi Tunnels

Part of the culture of life in the Italian Dolomites is to share a dinner with friends in one of the many mountain huts (rifugi) – for us, this is habit. Sometimes we hike, other times it’s a ski approach, maybe a trail run, or even a mountain bike ride. But last night was something unique, we arrived to the Rifugio Lagazuoi via a pitch black tunnel from WWI that ascends nearly 400 meters to the top of Monte Lagazuoi.

Our friend Carolyn is doing the Alta Via 1 and called to invite us for dinner at the hut. It was the perfect summer evening to head up and see her as well as the hut’s owner and friend Guido Pompanin. Dinner was set for 6:45 – we arrived at the trailhead at 6 and immediately took note of the trail sign indicating a two hour walk to the hut. “Merda, RUN!”

Inside the Gallery

A couple hundred meters above the parking area the trail splits; options include a long hike around the peak to it’s backside and up to the summit hut, or a tunnel going straight up within the mountain itself. The tunnel is a kind of museum as it is a perfectly preserved piece of war history. Built over a period of many months by the Italian army during WWI, the tunnel was meant to access the top and ultimately blow up the strategically located Austrian artillery placement. The monumental effort of boring through a mountain simply to then blow it up paid off and the Austrians lost there stronghold. Today, where men once lived in misery and fear, iPhone wielding tourists now strut about bound for the hut and a pasta, I was no exception.

Janine, aka Little Red Riding Hood, exiting the Gallery on top

We opted for the tunnel as it is faster and more direct and we had done it many times before – but never in a rush to make dinner. Up we went, each step inside the inky darkness gaining us a half meter. The lights from our headlamps passed over the many interior features; the soldiers living quarters, a water cistern, and many portholes in the tower’s side for dumping the stone and debris from the tunnel. Finally, we arrived at the top, exited the tunnel and like the Italian army in WWI, found not a soul about. But while the Austrian army made a rapid departure after catching wind of the impending arrival of the Italians and a potential large explosion, today’s summit inhabitants were gathered inside the Rifugio enjoying an aperitif.

After the Gallery there is an easy walk to the summit

Our own dash for the hut ended with the front door opening and Carolyn stepping out to greet us – promptly at 6:45. From the dank tunnel we suddenly found ourselves in a room full of cheer. Guido handed us towels for washing up, drinks arrived, and many friends gathered about. A fun feast was next, storytelling and a beautiful sunset making silhouettes of distant Dolomite towers. The evening became late, people wandered off to bed, we said good night, put our headlamps on and headed back to the tunnels.

The final steps to the top and the Lagazuoi Hut

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Travel in Italy’s Dolomites

A visit to the Heart of the Dolomites should certainly include a day or two exploring the Lagazuoi and Cinque Torri area. This is some of the most rugged and scenic terrain in all of the Dolomites and is accessed from any of the surrounding valley’s; Cortina d’Ampezzo (Passo Falzarego from the east), Alta Badia (Passo Valparola) or Arraba (Passo Falzarego from the west).

Rifugio Lagazuoi is accessed by trail on foot, via the tunnel described above, or by cable car (open seasonally). The common summer itinerary is cable car up, hike around the summit, lunch & nap on the Rifugio Lagazuoi’s famous deck with unrivaled views of the Dolomites, then a descent of the WWI tunnel. Headlamp required, helmet recommended.

Visit Rifugio Lagazuoi for complete information, pricing, and booking.

Also, the hut keeper, Guido, is a great photographer and thanks to the situation of the hut, gets incredible weather photos. Follow the Hut’s Rifugio Lagazuoi Facebook Page or on Twitter @rifugiolagazuoi

Guido Pompanin & Dan Patitucci inside the Rifugio Lagazuoi

I Like Firewood

European inspiration

Endurance adventure athletes pair enlightenment with masochism.  The sweet with the salty, like the peanut butter and jelly sandwich stuffed in a rucksack for a summit snack (for all my Euro friends out there who don’t give PB its proper respect and don’t even stock it in your grocery stores, replace with Nutella).  A typical outing can involve riding 100+ miles on the bike while maintaining the dignity to sport shaved legs and lycra shorts with a built in crotch-cuddler.  Or maybe it’s a 4 a.m. start, swapping sunbathing weather for snow, omitting the Gucci speedo for a Pata-gucci shell and the electronic chic of an avalanche transceiver.

Yet for all the salt, sweat, suffering, and sacrifice we endure, there is always the luscious, mouth watering, jaw dropping, sweet reward: a day alone in the beautiful bosom of Mother Nature, perhaps exploring new roads with new friends, or the freedom of a simple focus on body, breath and movement, hour after hour.

It was on a winter afternoon when I found myself with the familiar taste of salt in my mouth, pushing an empty grocery cart, miles from its linoleum floored home, towards the local mountain. The previous week, at the end of a long road ride, an abandoned pile of firewood rounds in the ditch got my attention.  What got my attention even more was noticing later the crumbs of bark that were the meager remains of Old Man Winter feasting on my firewood pile.

The intention to train for a specific race or adventure eases the lactic acid burn, and I have plenty more on my list of “things-to-do”.  Justifying my idea of a shopping cart turned firewood hauler seemed perfectly logical and resourceful, and a good bit of cross-training.  People whizzing by in their cars were obviously the “Gold’s Gym” type.  Their confused faces blurred by as I loaded the cart to the brim, three miles from the nearest shopping center.

The trip back to my woodshed was mostly downhill, fortunately, since the wood was still pretty green, making for a heavy load.  The welds of the shopping cart squeaked and moaned, my hair and smile flew crazy with the wind.  Eventually I arrived victorious, bogging down the small wheels in the loose gravel driveway.

I unloaded and started savoring the sweet: winter fuel free of charge, bombing the last mile down smooth asphalt to return the cart, putting the cart back in the parking lot corral and imagining the story it was about to tell to all its metallic friends who were forced to spend the day under fluorescent lights and bar codes, a resourceful use of my body, sweet warmth to share with friends, food, and stories past and stories to be.  And a moment, when, a few weeks later, at the end of a day of mountain biking, I stand in the middle of my driveway, wielding the noble mountain man phallic known as a “splitting-maul”, taking a deep inhale between focused, zen-like chops, to observe the mountains’ rugged silhouette standing in front of a golden ember sunset glow.

Don’t tell Igor Tavella, but I’m preparing for a Despar shopping cart assault on Dolomite switchbacks.  Those Sud-Tirol folk are keen firewood stackers, and I imagine come summer there will be huts on the Sella ring in need of a few cords.

Feeding the beast, stoking the fire, fueling the flame, each adventure keeps the flame strong for the next.  The mountains have taught me many lessons, one of the most powerful being the truth of balance.  So with this, fellow bikers, hikers, skiers, and more, yodel loud and rejoice!  Whether it’s a wintry trip to the market or a full-on alpine escapade, the saltier your adventure, the more sweet the reward.

It’s a cliche for a reason: “The best camera is the one you have with you”.

Right. In the age of iPhones and Photo Apps, you not only have a camera always at the ready, you have some very useful tools to make the images look the way you want them to look. Get to know your applications then think ahead and you can have some very cool results.

As athletes ourselves, we cannot always have a camera with us, but it is likely that we’ll have a mobile phone onboard. Thus, the extensive collection of cycling, or from the bike, shots. What I like about all of these images is that they are real; rush ahead and snap a frame as friends go by. These are true images of what we see while living our lives, not as photographers but as athletes or travelers.

All of these images were made with an iPhone and all effects were from various apps within the phone itself. We’d love to hear which is your favorite and why – thanks.

While training in Tuscany with my friend Andreas Irsara, he rode ahead on these dirt roads we were riding and snapped this photo of me with my own phone. It is one of my all time favorites. Well done Andreas, you out shot the pro!

During the same trip to Tuscany, I made this image literally while pedaling by. I knew I wanted the square, old timey effect, so I centered the group of trees so as to be able to crop later.

Janine and I on one of our countless days out mountain biking near Cortina d’Ampezzo. The Tilt Shift effect does a great job of miniaturizing the scene. You have to practice to learn when it will work and when it will not.

Andreas and I were waiting for Janine to shoot some landscape images while on a trip to Iceland.

Janine made this photo of me in the Eastern Sierra Nevada as I was riding up to meet her after she had gone for a trail run. I like the depth in the image behind me while it maintains a snapshot feel.

While riding with four Dutch friends in the Dolomites, I was frantically trying to get something exactly like this, from the bike, to show the drama of what you see while road riding in the Italian Dolomites.

Andreas Irsara mountain biking in the Alta Badia while we were scouting a video location. When we returned a week later, a huge bench had been built right where he is riding.

A Tuscan hilltop town photo made right from my bike saddle. I think Tuscany truly was made for the camera.

I love the spontaneity of this image of Janine while in Pienza, Italy

We were in India for the big news

India… It would have been a shame to have missed this one

Shot from my road bike on the dreamy, car-less roads of the Chianti Region of Italy

Late in the fall a group of friends did a huge mountain bike ride in the Dolomites, this was from a small summit we rode to the top of with endless views of the range.

This photo was one of the first I ever made with the iPhone. I was on a long mountain bike ride alone in the Dolomites and stopped at a hut to eat something when this Dohle landed on my handlebars. It is said that these mountain birds are spirits of people lost in the mountains. It hung around for awhile as if to say hello.

The Camera Apps that we use are:

Photogene

Tilt Shift Gen

Camera Bag

Photoshop Mobile

Genius

Follow us on Twitter to see more of these photos as they are made

Dan broken down in Chamonix 2006

Yesterday, I hobbled into the house where we are staying and discovered our friend Kay wearing a massive knee brace. Uh Oh…As it is ski season there was little doubt what happened.

Luckily, with age comes some wisdom on coping with sports injuries. The frustration is still there, but so too some understanding. Injuries happen for a reason, there is nothing we can do but learn from them.
For me it is time off the bike, but for poor Kay, she is awaiting the verdict of just what is going on and when will she back in action.
Unlike all previous days, she did not ski today. That is her reality.
Methods of staying sane was the house topic.

My history has taught me that when injured it is critical that I remain on my program. The actual training part may not happen, but the healthy eating, stretching, rest, and personal physical care must continue. It helps me coping when I am still active, still an athlete and still healthy. Keep the blood flowing, keep positive. Time goes by and the body heels. At some point during the downtime there will be an appreciation for what has been learned.

So what are your tricks to the injury recovery process? Do you have funny stories of the ever present neurotic belief, “Oh my God I am going to get fat and slothful and everything I worked so hard for is lost. Woe. Is. Me”.
Believe me, we feel your pain.

Standing and studying Mt. Morgan. Christmas Day 2009

I have been at this mountain sport game for 23 solid years now. Yet still, when I stand beneath a towering peak, when I look up at its enormity and into its features, I am still in awe.

For me it is both humbling and inspiring. Humbling because I am nothing to a mountain, my body is weak and fragile compared to rock and steepness. In all these years, countless friends have not returned from their days in the mountains. As I grow older that memory is all the more present and influential to my decision making. But still I go, for my own greatest experiences are within big mountains with those closest to me.

While the mountains are humbling, they are also forever inspiring. I look at them with a longing to enter, to explore. I see a couloir and I want to know how steep it is, does that restriction go? What would it be like to climb that ridge? My body knows the skills that allows movement in the mountains. I want to test myself, I want to keep going further into them.

As a mountain sports photographer the mountains inspire my on a different level. I want to capture other people within their beauty and size, I want to reveal our place within them, to show off what we humans can do with our skills, fitness and passion. It is not just the mountains that are beautiful but our passage through them. With all of this they draw me back day after day, it is what I do. Each morning I rise knowing I am going back, and I never tire of this feeling. To stand beneath a mountain is a very special thing.

Moving day, where did all this stuff come from?

We decided that John and Leslie, our hosts for the last month, needed a break from the Dan & Janine Show. So, two new friends have found us settling into their Crowley Lake home. Tim and Kay – thanks for the support and cozy cabin in the snowy woods.

Life has been simple. We ski, we work, we spend time each evening with friends. It has been good and we look forward to the plethora of coming East Side Christmas parties on the horizon.

And skiing… well, all that powder we have been enjoying the last two weeks seems to have blown to Nevada or been pressed into windslab. The peaks behind the house here need some exploring to see what we can find. Today we did just that but were shut down, not only skiing but on the two mile walk back home, our thumbs were ignored.

Lawn chairs in the back of the van, headed for a Potluck

Janine on the long walk home, ignored by another car

Dan settling in

Life is not always fun. You can’t always get what you want. Shit Happens.

For Janine and I, we’re in a perfect storm, all three of the above just collided.

I won’t go into specifics, and really, in the big picture all is well, but we are experiencing some serious inconveniences that involve immigration law and smashed vehicles. Thus… the absence of DolomiteSport posts.

Our 5 week trip in the US is suddenly going to be longer than anticipated, thankfully we have all we need, most specifically, great friends.

This morning I woke and knew I needed to burn some energy, clear the head and make myself fatigued in anticipation of California’s monster storm due to arrive this evening. Sunday is a planned rest day; lots of tea, my book, breakfast with friends and watch it DUMP in the Sierra. But first today.

Upon slipping into my mountain bike ensemble, the wind picked up, or to be more accurate, started raging. At this point, I was not yet commited and it would have been all too easy to talk myself out of going out in the cold and unpleasant weather. But the high we athletes know about was much needed. I got my mountain bike and trail running gear together, jumped in the car and was off for the mountains.

3 hours later I had a mountain bike buzz on. A one hour trail run chaser had me fully wasted. My head was clear, life was back to being a wonderful thing and I didn’t even mind the parts still falling off the car while driving home. As I left the forest my view opened up, I saw that the storm was starting to spill down into the Eastern Sierra, clear skies were still above, but there was most certainly some incoming nastiness. Luckily my own storm was clearing and I could happily await the weather version.

Funny thing about getting out to do your mountain sport thing…  for many reasons we often dread going, but never dread having gone.

What begins in late March as blossoming energy evolves into summer’s full blown growth and activity before fading slowly into the finality of fall. It is the cycle of life and the cycle of our work. We let it play out as it will, the natural process seems best.

This week we did what is likely our last shoot of the non-snow season in Europe. Next week we travel to America for some family & friend visits, some official paperwork, and some time shooting and playing in the remarkable Utah Desert.

2009 has been an amazing year. Work was slower early season due to the hurting economy, but anything but slower for our own shooting, travel and fun. Our community of friends in the Italian Dolomites has grown into a very special group whom we love spending time with. The only thing that makes time playing in the mountains better is the people you spend it with.

We want to say a huge thank you to everyone who has helped us getting to know this amazing place, introducing new experiences, connecting us with friends and of course modeling time! Guys, it is safe to answer your phone now if you see me calling, no more time spent modeling – until the snow falls and we are all on skis.

Matthias, Ruth, Juergen, Maria, Andi, Thomas, Joanna, TITO, Oskar, Marianna, Toni, Kurt, Marcello, Agustina, Alexandra, Giulia, Andrea (I hope I didn’t forget anyone) and especially…… Patrizia, Igor, Alberto and the great Andreas (TATA) – Let’s do it all over again in 2010.

Now that I am finished with my Grammy acceptance speech… Some random FUN photos from the year, none of which may be found in either our portfolio or stock site.

Take your pick girls!

Igor Tavella serving up some Sud Tirol delicacies

Janine asked who will be faster, and the answer...

Possibly the meal of the year. Lazise.

Can't believe this one made it out. Boys will be boys.

Janine and Tata at Las Vegas party night

Alta Via 1 rain delay. Janine, Dan, Patrizia and Gabe

Well your "Bloody Gorgeous!!" Alberto (aka BG) in heaven (aka Arco)

Oskar and Rafaella. "Hurry Dan, it's cold"

Janine and BG waiting on a train

Janine and BG in the Rothorn Hut's winter room

TaTa

Andi Mariner hydrating after a mountain running race

Patrizia and TaTa: Winners

The end of the Alta Via 1 for our running tour

The sunrise that refused to happen, waiting it out.

Dan and TaTa feeling patriotic

Janine and Patrizia at a random party we stumbled onto at a hut

This fall we helped Sue Johnston and Chris Scott make plans for hiking the Alta Via 1. When it was finished they kindly put together a story of their primary impression. The topic; the mountain hut.

Chris and Sue come from outside Ventura, California. Sue is a two time time winner of Colorado’s Hardrock Ultra as well as numerous other 100 miles races. She also holds the speed record for the John Muir Trail. More info about Sue can be read at Salomon Running or her blog’s Dolomite entry, RunSueRun.

Thanks to Sue Johnston and Chris Scott for the text below.

Rifugio = Mountain Hut. “Mountain Hut” usually conjures up a one room, rough hewn, log cabin hidden deep in the wilderness below a dense canopy, offering brief respite to the wandering hiker in search of flat and dry ground, a roof over one’s head, perhaps escape from persistent mosquitoes, yet maybe a mouse or two for company.  After you’ve heated your dinner and stretched your sleeping bag over the floor, and night has stolen daylight, only your headlamp reminds you of dimension within the hut’s walls.

The reality of rifugi (plural of “hut”) in the Dolomites is quite the opposite.  Think:  “this is the best aid station I’ve ever visited!” and then repeat that experience about every 10K, or in some cases, within spitting distance of the next.  Now envision the Dolomite mountain hut offering commanding views in almost every direction.  Welcome to Italy!

Rifugi dot the trail at seemingly designed intervals.  The proximity of one rifugio to the next encourages you to pack light – you’ll need only your choice of clothing for the length of your trek.  But what about food?  Since the staff at each rifugio spends its entire season there, they’ll be well fed.  If they’re well fed, you’ll be well fed, too.  This equates to a full menu of delightful treats.

Complementing the menu is beer on tap and a well-stocked bar, further enhanced by local grappas. For lack of clear translation, grappa is Italian for moonshine, only here in various flavors and colors.  As our new Italian friend suggested, “take a hit, roll the grappa across your teeth with your tongue, then breathe in quickly through bared teeth.  You’ll get snockered quicker!”  It almost worked.

Most rifugi also offer hotel-equivalent accommodations, as well; the loftier and more remote rifugi perhaps bunk beds.  On our five day hike of Alta Via 1, we survived one bunk bed group snorefest, the other nights in private rooms listening to just our own snoring.  Truthfully, even the snorefest wasn’t problematic – we were tired enough from each day’s hike that we could have slept through the finale of the 1812 Overture.  Full stomachs from dinner created a lethargy that made sleep easy; we justified the bulging stomachs as investment for the next day’s hike.

Up early for breakfast.  Salami and cheese panini for later on the trail.  Visit another rifugio down trail for more coffee.  Stop every 100 meters to take in another spectacular, breathtaking vista.  Enjoy an afternoon break for more coffee and snacks.  Then press on to make it to the day’s end rifugio in time for a warm shower, happy hour, dinner, and another night’s sleep between sheets.

Lather, rinse, repeat… for as many days as you can afford and are willing to enjoy.  The tease is to linger at any one rifugio, for each designs to keep you in the clutches of endless hospitality. Of course, avoid the tease, as more of the same awaits you at the next rifugio.  When (not if) you decide to run/hike the Alta Via 1, anticipate the rifugi pampering – you’ll re-define your standards for ultras’ aid station fare!! Hope you enjoyed reading our impressions of the Alta Via 1.