summer is finally here. It is very hot and then decide to leave in the morning "soon", or at the same time ever. At 7 am, in fact, I am Manar Formiutte and ready for the hike in the program: the ring of Monte Poviz. After switching to take John and fresh bread drifting Sella Nevea. The cable car is still in service as well, at 8.45, we climb the path 636, walking in fields still wet with dew. A daisy all covered with tiny droplets of anticipating the main theme of this hike: the lush summer. Accompany us along the path fragrances and summer mountain childhood memories: the dampness of the rain yesterday, the sweet scents of flowers, the aromas of plants and trees and the mood of the undergrowth. Along the old path of the Great War military encounter the remains of small barracks ruins and buildings that once full of meaning, fears and emotions now lie useless and falling. Today we walk slowly becoming not miss any opportunity to take photos. But the pace is steady and secure, thanks to GPS (the "gifts") that came to John and Manara, at about 10.30 so we are crossing with the 637, a path that runs at high altitude between sinkholes, caves and rocks excavated from the water since time immemorial. From here admire the whole group of Canin and his live across: the group of Montasio and Jof Fuart. Now the walk has become less difficult under a beating sun. Even here, scattered among the rocks, many species of colorful and fragrant flowers. In case less exposed to the sun's heat and underground karst sinkholes sinking, we find wide open spaces of snow. Every so often we stop to admire the view and drink before thirst begins to claim its share. Along the trail we see an old concrete pipe in place of some function connected with the front line that stood near our destination for lunch. Always with the end multifunction given to me by Ilaria that protects me from the sun, I continue with my fellow adventurers to a deep depression that anticipates the final steep climb up to camp. Just leave the large tracts of snow immediately feel the heat turned up high humidity. We reach out the old barracks destroyed near the front line. At the exit of a tunnel, before proceeding to the camp, I drop a stick from his hand, and ends unhappily bouncing down a hillside, under my astonished gaze. I salt the discomfort: there where it stopped, I certainly do not recall. But others are optimistic and have a plan: throw stones at the stick to make it fall over towards the end of a gravel reach from the valley below. A lucky shot reaches the goal, and so later I will be able to recover it. After visiting the Savoy Modonutti Bivouac, eat lunch on a beautiful table with benches under a fierce sun that warms rushing everything it touches, so my back. After a photo before the other and go down to fetch the stick. As a reference point using a solitary larch, the only tree in the middle of the scree. To prevent entrapment between the thick branches of a clump of pine go down to the base of gravel and begin the difficult ascent, the differences between rocks and old and new: tins, plates, cans, bottles and tins. In the end I can reach and retrieve very relief stick. At about 14 we take the path that brings us back down to 637 Sella Nevea, unfortunately as I feared the tendon of the right ankle, probably ignited by a "jog" pulled too long, is felt. Let small children under the majestic and vertical walls of Mt Robon, on which we see the traces of the mountaineers. Coming down we continue to admire the colors and smell the perfume deggli countless flowers and abundant green plants that cover the track of our journey, among them a beautiful lily of the mountain. As the altitude drops, the heat rises. Spent my last supplies of water and I think that next time will be better and carry more than enjoy a lunch light of the classic sandwich with ham. A fall of rain cools the air of the forest that protects the end of our journey. From here we are on the short road and then to the parking lot where we left the car. While some noisy children compete in 'adventure trail' we descend into the valley. Along the road weariness with us, the landscape slips under the wheels with his curiosity, appearing in uniform in World War I, diversions along steep streets, tourists are washed into the icy waters of the river tramps and tourists. After having refreshed his feet in the "Raccolana" Resiutta reach where we expect chicken, chips and fresh thirst-quenching beer. Late in the evening of this long day arrival at home port Ilaria chicken in part to share the joys of the day and a gift to Matilda outlet cone in the forest which makes it unexpectedly and enthusiastically joyful.
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