Clockwise Hike Around Antelao via the Bortolo De Lorenzo Alpine Trail

This itinerary was followed on July 30, 2026, and all subsequent observations and considerations apply fully only to that day.

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First part of the Antelao Clockwise Loop to the eastern start of the Bortolo De Lorenzo Trail

From the San Vito di Cadore parking lot, the ascent to the Scotter Palatini Mountain Hut is very easy, and from there, the trail continues along CAI 227 toward Forcella Piccola and the Galassi Mountain Hut.

From the Galassi Mountain Hut, follow the CAI 250 trail to reach Forcella del Ghiacciaio—the highest point of the hike—following the arrows for Forcella del Ghiacciaio, Ferrata Ghiacciaio, and the Antelao Mountain Hut.

The CAI 250 trail climbs without much difficulty to just below the pass but does not take the gully to reach it directly.

For the final section, you climb the large slab—with a nearly constant slope—located to the left as you ascend (or to the east), which is made easier by the fixed equipment of the Ferrata Ghiacciaio.

The rock is extremely solid, with good handholds and little loose gravel; the fixed equipment (as it stands) is practically perfect, and you arrive a few meters above Forcella del Ghiacciaio on the ridge that ascends from the pass toward the northeast.

This section of the via ferrata is not difficult for its category, but it is clearly quite exposed.

The trail continues for a short distance along the ridge, almost level but sloping downward toward the pass; without reaching it, it turns to descend into the large and spectacular valley of the Ghiacciaio Superiore.

To exit the valley, you’ll face a vertical drop downhill where there’s a second section of the via ferrata that’s shorter but more challenging than the first.

Here there are sections where, even while looking for the best footholds, you need to hold on tight.

The equipment is excellent, including both cables and ladder-style metal rungs.

Continue downhill, first over gravel and then along trails through the greenery, staying on CAI Trail 250 until a gentle ascent leads to the sign reading “Valon Cianpestrin 1919 m.”

A few dozen meters further on, there’s a fork with signs for Forcella Piria.

To stay on CAI trails, you could continue toward Forcella Piria and turn right onto CAI 230, but I followed another small trail marked on the maps and unmarked on the ground except for an initial wooden arrow with no inscription.

This narrow path is barely visible for the first few meters, then has a clearly identifiable section, and almost disappears in the easy final stretch: in the end, however, it saves a bit of distance compared to the CAI route.

The trail climbs through the beautiful Piani de Campestrìn up to the small Forcella Cadìn, from where a walk of less than 300 meters leads down to the eastern starting point of the Bortolo De Lorenzo Trail.

The trailhead is immediately past a beautiful cave with a small statue of the Madonna at the sign reading “Sotto Forc. Cadin 2010 m.”

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Hike along the Bortolo De Lorenzo Trail in an east→west direction to the site of the former Brunetta Bivouac

My reference sources for this via ferrata and ledge route were:

• “Guide to Via Ferrata Routes and Ledge Trails in CORTINA D’AMPEZZO AND SURROUNDINGS” by Fabio Cammelli
• “DOLOMITES: The Great Book of Wild Trails” by Paolo Bonetti and Paolo Lazzarin

I had photocopies of Fabio Cammelli’s book—the more recent and detailed one—in my pocket.

Both books describe the Bortolo De Lorenzo Trail as a traverse starting from the Antelao Mountain Hut.

Those who want to split this long loop hike into two days can stop at the Antelao Mountain Hut.

For those who want to do a day-long loop dedicated to the Bortolo De Lorenzo Trail, the best starting point is probably Vinigo.

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From the signpost “Sotto Forc. Cadin 2010 m,” leave Trail CAI 230 (which descends toward Venàs, Borca, and San Vito) and head straight along the rocky ridge, following a well-defined trail.

Circle the entire first basin and cross the outgoing ridge, passing beneath a large, square-shaped tower.

The next, wider cirque is closed off by a long, nearly horizontal ridge covered with dense mountain pines.

You’ll reach a debris flow just before the ridge, where two cairns “suggest” climbing up to the edge of the debris flow.

After climbing about thirty meters, another cairn directs you to turn left into a corridor between the mountain pines to reach the base of the rocky ledge.

As I climbed up beneath the rocky ledge until I crossed over the ridge, I saw the first red markers and a knocked-down metal arrow pointing toward the Brunetta Bivouac, which had been swept away by an avalanche some time ago.

Up to this point, the trails can be considered standard; from here on, the route changes to a series of descents to the bottom of gullies and ascents up successive ridges.

There’s no point in describing every descent and ascent in detail because, in my opinion, you just need to follow the red markers and cairns, which—fortunately, it seems to me—are now more numerous than the guidebooks suggest.

In any case, you begin by descending into the deep gully of the Ru de Rugnàn, and before climbing back up, you must descend a few more meters among the boulders of the gully.

You then reach a saddle with a beautiful view of Pelmo, after which there is a descent down a debris-filled slope through mountain pines, where I also saw a couple of bright red markers that were more recent than the others.

After losing about fifty meters in elevation, you enter a patch of mountain pines leading to a descent over rocky outcrops requiring handholds and another patch of mountain pines, from which you emerge onto a short, exposed, and crumbly traverse.

You then continue along a varied route through the area marked on maps as “Cengia de Mèz” or “Zengia di Medo” until you reach the bottom of a gully that you must ascend to enter the Valón de l’Antelao.

The elevation gain is about 120 meters, first along the easy bottom of the couloir, then through patches of mountain pine, and finally up a grassy slope: always pay attention to trail markers, cairns, and cut branches to climb along the easiest routes.

After a small saddle with larch trees (“Cavalìn de le Taiòle” according to Fabio Cammelli’s guidebook), continue traversing at the head of the Valón de l’Antelao until you reach a painted arrow indicating the start of the descent.

From that point, generally speaking, you must traverse downhill on a steep diagonal across the entire valley to the right bank, past the small stream.

This descent is not—and cannot be—fully marked in detail, partly because conditions and specific routes can change after each winter season.

There are trail markers spaced out along the way that are helpful to spot to get an idea of where to head, but then you’ll have to navigate the finer details by eye.

Little by little, you make your way down and reach the stream where I filled up my water bottles.

Then there are immediately a couple of red markers pointing toward a small, landslide-prone slope and subsequently into the mountain pine thicket ahead.

In my opinion, this was the most challenging section of the Bortolo De Lorenzo Trail—I’d definitely call it “difficult to navigate.”

I saw a couple of routes to navigate the steep landslides that follow the trail markers; I took the higher one, but in the end, I can’t say for sure if it was the best choice.

The GPS is of no help here due to a lack of precision in such narrow spaces and, above all, because the terrain is unstable; every year, as evidenced by the “best” (so to speak) crossing points, you have to start almost from scratch after the winter season.

I can only say that I saw, here and there, “a few scattered boot prints” left by someone who had passed through before me this season: slipping is not an option.

Once past that, you continue in “just for fun, but with caution” mode until a spectacular climb beneath an overhanging rock band with a Grade I+ exit move on a rock-solid hold.

A little further on, there’s an exposed section with a safety cable, followed by a whole series of undulations along ridges and saddles up to the base of the final couloir, which you must ascend to reach the site of the former Giovanni and Giulio Brunetta Bivouac.

The numerous trail markers keep you on the left side as you ascend the gully, with a few Grade I holds toward the end.

In total, according to my GPS, the elevation gain is just over 70 meters.

Above the final saddle, which leads into the Busa de la Ciaudiéra, nothing remains of the bivouac: just a few posts or stakes, plus a metal directional sign from CAI Padova pointing toward the Antelao Refuge (… which is quite a long way from here in terms of hiking time).

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Return to San Vito di Cadore from the western end of the Bortolo De Lorenzo Trail

Now we return along CAI-marked trails, beginning the descent on CAI Trail 232.

The first, fairly steep section is a bit covered in gravel, so you need to go slowly, but then, further down in the woods, you can walk at a steady pace.

After descending over 700 meters in elevation, you’ll come to a junction with CAI 230, where there’s a CAI warning about a landslide in the Canalone di Cancia that has rendered the original trail impassable; anyone proceeding does so at their own risk.

I wasn’t aware of this issue, but I continued with the plan to turn back and descend to Borca di Cadore if I encountered insurmountable problems.

Shortly after joining CAI 230, a gentle ascent begins which, after four hairpin turns, leads to the edge of the Canalone di Cancia.

The current situation is as follows: 1) the landslide is impressive in both width and depth; 2) there is ongoing construction (also mentioned in the warning) with a security camera pointed toward the work site—likely and rightly so—to ensure that no one attempts to cross by taking advantage of cables and other materials set up there for the construction; 3) The left bank (as viewed from today’s approach) cannot be descended without the aid of a rope because it is too steep, deep, and unstable; 4) The right bank, on the other hand, shows some “relatively weak spots.”

Just above the active construction zone, a rope (one of those “professional” ones used to secure passages) has been strung diagonally to descend to the bottom of the landslide.

Without it, I might have had to turn back because today (to save weight given the length of the hike) I hadn’t brought a rope—the alternative was to laboriously climb back up through the mountain pines, hoping to find a better, less difficult spot to descend: a time-consuming effort with an uncertain outcome.

I descended to the bottom of the landslide with the help of the cord and climbed back up a section along easy passages until I reached the level of a trail where I could see it continuing on the other side.

I found a spot to climb back up the right bank (not easy, but definitely better than that troublesome one mentioned earlier in the Valón de l’Antelao) I reached the narrow trail and continued to a fork with a right-hand hairpin bend where cut branches marked both possible routes.

Here, you must take the right at the hairpin turn, and after the next left-hand hairpin turn, you’ll also find the CAI 230 paint markings alongside cairns and cut branches.

Now continue easily through the woods until you emerge into open terrain on a gently sloping area of small rocks and scree covered with mountain pines: this is the area marked as Crepe del Bosco Nuovo on the Tabacco map.

To avoid getting lost among the mountain pines, pay close attention to the cairns and cut branches during the first few narrow, hard-to-see turns in this somewhat confusing initial section.

“Navigation anxiety” is short-lived, and afterward the passages are very wide and clearly marked by cairns.

The long descent leaves the mountain pines behind and enters slopes with various shrubs, still featuring plenty of cairns that you’d be wise not to lose sight of.

It’s all downhill, but you can’t go fast; you walk at a steady, controlled pace.

The CAI 230 trail re-enters the forest north of Col Festinel at an elevation of roughly 1,130 to 1,140 meters (shortly before that, I found a small spring for another water refill).

At the entrance to the woods, there’s a cairn marking a clearly visible trail that continues straight ahead relative to the arrival line, but there are two others, more hidden among the shrubs, indicating another trail that turns right uphill: you must take the one on the right.

After the short climb, the trail descends to a fork with the same situation as before: a more obvious trail going straight and a less obvious one turning right; here, too, take the right path, following the cut branches.

Before long, you’ll reach the structures at the Festinel Spring (where I had the chance to thoroughly refresh my face and arms) and enter the easy forest road leading to San Vito di Cadore.

A few minutes on the paved road, with a final short climb, and you’re back at the starting parking lot.

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Final Note

As indicated by the on-site signage, I reiterate that anyone attempting to cross the Canalone di Cancia landslide does so at their own risk.

There is no guarantee that you’ll find the fixed rescue rope on the descent that I found on this trip.

As things stand, without the fixed rescue rope, it would be very difficult and dangerous to descend to the bottom of the gully without your own rope.