Sunrise of the first day of summer on the Marmolada highest peak I wanted to write a bit earlier today; I’ve had so much time that it feels like I’ve already burned through half the day. I’ve been awake since just before 5 am, the fate of those who sleep in a tent. Luckily, I had a bandana that kept me from waking up too abruptly. The night wasn’t exactly comfortable, though I think I managed to get at least six hours of sleep, somewhat interrupted by constantly tossing and turning on the sleeping pad. A string of thunderstorms continued until at least midnight, and the rain drumming on the flysheet of my tent made it harder to fall asleep, despite being quite tired from the day spent hiking around the Catinaccio massifs, in the Dolomites. It seems incredible to me how I have to get used to it all over again at the start of every backpacking season. In these moments, I can’t help but think: “how did I manage to hold out for a hundred and forty days in 2024?” Then I remember – and I’ve…
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