Hypothesis Result Of Dancing Raisin

of Sagron (d. 2485)


For everyone: mountains, such as Vajolet Towers, the same Three Peaks or the Owl, the Matterhorn (just to name a few), are an expression of indisputable beauty . Then everyone has his own mountain of the heart. For many different reasons. Why was the first ascent, because it has a sentimental reason, because it represents a moment in the life ... Mine is of the Piz Sagron. By themselves, although aesthetically beautiful, is a mountain among many, not well known. To tell the truth is not quite as insignificant with its height of 2485 m. is the second between the Alps Feltrine. Historically, the privilege to trigger the mountaineering history of the southernmost in the chain of the Dolomites, with the escalation of June 16, 1877 by Caesar Tome and Col Thomas with the "guide" (but actually a hunter, trapper, smuggler) where Mariano Bernardin. From its slopes the River Caorame River, tributary of the River Piave then. The house where I was born above a gorge that the river has run excavated, and it was my partner (non-human) for excellence in my childhood. So it was easy to want to look for origins. To find out the seventeen years old when I went with friends to spend Easter at the bivouac Feltre-Walter Bodo, nearby the mountain. One morning I proposed to go in search of the source. I had the boots still full of water up the hill and calzai a pair of rubber boots, green ones that were worn in the seventies often for work in the fields, go for mushrooms in the woods ... I had brought to reserve. I went up with his friend Gabriele Vanin Tessaro and some that belonged to another company. Kicking the snow we were still high in the mighty monolith form enough teams. I do not know what it takes. Perhaps the unawareness of age, the desire to challenge the exuberance. We started to climb the Piz. From So many years have passed, the memory latita, logically we walked the normal route, but there was snow on the ledges and sometimes high, in the sides and there was ice in the shadows of the hard, opened beneath our feet deep, chasms although occasionally mitigated by mists that moved quickly. It continued to rise even knowing where to go. Inside of me rose a frenzy, uncontrollable energy. At the top, we realize why we could not go beyond. The clouds while squatting on the summit and had "ruled out by any look." We just have to go down, I had come full circle with my mount and my stream, I had them and they had me. I think, rightly, to be the first to have produced a first winter mountaineering boots with rubber!