Climbing Forcella di Mesdì: a Dolomites hiking experience for beginners

When you think of hiking in the Dolomites, you probably picture endless trails, green valleys, and postcard-perfect mountain peaks. That’s exactly what I expected when I set out one sunny morning from Santa Cristina. The plan was simple: take the lift up, cross Forcella di Mesdì, and maybe even make my way toward the famous Cinema delle Odle. Easy, right?

Well… not exactly. What started as a cheerful hike quickly turned into one of the steepest climbs I’ve ever done — one that made me feel like a mountain goat scrambling on all fours. The reward? Views so spectacular they took my breath away (along with a few nerves I didn’t know I had). 

So, would you call this an easy hike… or a beginner’s nightmare?

This is the story of my hike to Forcella di Mesdì, complete with missteps, sunburns, and the kind of memories that make you laugh later — once you’re safely back with a plate of food in front of you.

Table of contents:

• Starting point: Santa Cristina and the Col Raiser lift
• Hiking towards Forcella di Mesdì
• Crossing Forcella di Mesdì
  • The climb: feeling like mountain goats
  • At the top: breathtaking but nerve-wracking
  • The descent: slow and careful
• Changing plans: hiking to Ortisei
• The return: bus back and a late dinner
• Lessons learned: what to do (and NOT do) when hiking Forcella di Mesdì
  • Quick guide to hiking Forcella di Mesdì
• In conclusion
  • FAQ about hiking Forcella di Mesdì

Starting point: Santa Cristina and the Col Raiser lift

I woke up in Santa Cristina to the kind of morning that makes you want to be outside all day — sunny, warm, and with the Dolomites looking sharper and brighter than ever. After a quick breakfast, I headed to the Col Raiser lift, which carried me smoothly up from the village into the valley.

There’s something about that first lift ride that sets the tone for the whole day. As the cabins glide over the meadows and trees, the world below gets smaller, and the mountains ahead get closer. It feels a little like being carried into another world — one where all you need to think about is the trail waiting in front of you.

At the top, I started my walk with fresh legs and even fresher excitement. My plan was ambitious but doable (at least in theory): make my way past Rifugio Firenze, climb up Forcella di Mesdì, and then continue all the way to Cinema delle Odle. At that point, I didn’t realize how long the climb would take — or how different “easy” can sound depending on who’s describing it.

Hiking towards Forcella di Mesdì

The first stretch of the trail, leading up to Rifugio Firenze, felt like the perfect warm-up. The path wound its way between tall trees, and the cool shade made every step refreshing. The air carried that crisp mountain smell, and with the dappled light sneaking through the leaves, it was almost too easy to forget I was at the start of a long day.

But everything changed after I passed the rifugio. Suddenly, the trees disappeared, and I found myself on an open trail that pointed relentlessly uphill. The sun was blazing, and with not a patch of shade in sight, the fresh coolness from earlier was long gone. At one point, a few horses grazed calmly by the path, completely unbothered by the heat, while I trudged past, dripping in sweat and wishing I could trade places.

That second part of the trail felt like walking through a mountain desert — dry ground, little vegetation beyond some patches of grass, and the kind of heat that makes you question your life choices. Have you ever walked a trail that suddenly turns from refreshing to exhausting in just a few minutes? By the time I finally reached the foot of the Forcella, I was exhausted, red-faced, and already dreaming about the cold water waiting in my backpack.

Crossing Forcella di Mesdì

The climb: feeling like mountain goats

Standing at the base of the Forcella, I quickly realized this wasn’t going to be a regular “walk uphill.” The slope looked almost vertical, and the only way forward was to start scrambling.

• Hands and legs in action: Forget just walking — most of the time, I was grabbing rocks, pulling myself up, and balancing like a mountain goat.
• Steep, but steady: It wasn’t technically difficult, but the angle of the climb demanded full focus with every step.
• The silence of effort: Conversation stopped. All you could hear was the crunch of my shoes on the rock and my heavy breathing in the warm air.

Despite the sweat and the burn in my legs, there was something fun about it. Each move brought me higher, and the view behind me kept expanding — valleys shrinking, peaks stretching endlessly across the horizon. It felt like climbing into another world.

And yet, the higher I got, the sharper the exposure felt. The path was open, no trees, no rails, just me and the Dolomites. The excitement of reaching the top mixed with the kind of nerves that make your stomach flip.

At the top: breathtaking but nerve-wracking

Reaching the top of the Forcella felt like stepping into a completely different world. The valley I had just crossed was far below, and ahead stretched a dramatic panorama of Dolomite peaks, sharp and endless against the sky. It was the kind of view that makes you stop, catch your breath, and wonder how something so rugged can also be so beautiful.

But along with the awe came a very real sense of nerves. The ridge was exposed, and for a relatively inexperienced hiker like me, the drop on either side was enough to make my heart race. Standing up there, I was torn between wanting to soak in the view forever and wanting to get moving before my legs betrayed my nerves.

It was a mix of exhilaration and unease — the kind of moment that tests you but also rewards you in the same breath. For every shaky step and sweaty climb, that view reminded me why I fell in love with the Dolomites.

The descent: slow and careful

If climbing up made me feel like a mountain goat, going down was more like learning to walk all over again. The slope on the other side of the Forcella was steep, loose, and just waiting for one wrong step to turn into an accidental slide.

So, I did what any sensible beginner would do: I took it very slowly. Two hours slowly. Step by careful step, testing the ground before shifting my weight, sometimes crouching low just to feel more secure. At one point, I joked that if anyone was watching from afar, they’d probably think I was auditioning for a new sport called “extreme slow motion hiking.”

The truth is, nerves made the descent feel even longer. Every rock looked as if it had the potential to roll, and every slip of gravel made my heart jump. But going slow worked — I reached the bottom with sore legs, dusty clothes, and a huge sense of relief. No dramatic falls, no mountain rescue, just one tired hiker grateful to still be upright.

By then, though, it was already 3 p.m. and my ambitious plan to head for Cinema delle Odle had quietly disappeared into thin air.

Changing plans: hiking to Ortisei

By the time I reached the bottom of the Forcella, it was late enough that continuing toward Cinema delle Odle wasn’t an option. Instead, I chose the more realistic plan: head to Ortisei on foot. At first, I felt a little disappointed to abandon my “big plan,” but the new route turned out to be just as rewarding.

The Adolf Munkel path led me into a completely different atmosphere. Gone were the steep rocks and exposed ridges — now I was walking through shady forests, with soft trails under my feet and birdsong filling the air. It felt like the perfect way to calm my nerves after such an intense climb and descent.

As I made my way closer to Ortisei, the views opened up again — rolling hills, patches of forest, and glimpses of the villages below. After the adrenaline of the Forcella, it felt almost like a cool-down walk, giving me the space to actually enjoy the scenery without constantly worrying about falling off a cliff.

The return: bus back and a late dinner

By the time I finally reached Ortisei, my legs were heavy and my water bottle nearly empty. I spotted the 350 bus just in time and happily let it carry me back to Santa Cristina. Sitting down felt like the biggest luxury of the day.

Back in the village, hunger kicked in with full force. I ended the day with a very late dinner, eating whatever I found in the fridge like it was the best meal of my life. After hours of climbing, sweating, and slowly tiptoeing down rocks, that late dinner felt like the perfect ending to a day I’ll never forget. By the time I sat down to eat, it was already 8:30 in the evening. Considering I had left Santa Cristina around 10 in the morning, the hike had truly taken the whole day.

Lessons learned: what to do (and NOT do) when hiking Forcella di Mesdì

Looking back, my hike to Forcella di Mesdì was unforgettable — but also full of lessons. If you’re planning to take on this trail, here are some do’s and don’ts that might save you from my mistakes:

✅ Do:

• Bring hiking poles — they’re a lifesaver on steep climbs and descents.
• Wear a hat or head covering — the sun up there is unforgiving (trust me, a scalp sunburn is not fun).
• Carry plenty of water and snacks — the climb drains your energy faster than you think.
• Check the timing of your route carefully — what looks like a “short” connection can easily turn into hours of scrambling.
• Wear proper hiking shoes — good grip makes all the difference.

❌ Don’t:

• Underestimate the climb just because locals call it “easy.” (Easy for them, a full-on workout for me.)
• Go without basic gear — no ropes are needed, but poles, hats, and sun protection are essential.
• Start late in the day if you plan to cross and continue further — the Forcella descent alone takes time.
• Forget to pace yourself — slow and steady really does win the race here.

With the right prep, this hike can be an amazing experience without the extra stress.

Quick guide to hiking Forcella di Mesdì

In conclusion

My hike to Forcella di Mesdì turned out nothing like I had planned, and that’s probably what made it so memorable. I didn’t make it to Cinema delle Odle, but instead I got a mix of sunburns, sweaty scrambles, nerves I didn’t know I had, and views that will stay with me forever.

Sometimes hikes aren’t about ticking destinations off a list but about the little stories that happen along the way — the horses grazing in the heat, the two-hour slow-motion descent, or the late dinner that tasted like a feast. For me, this trail was a reminder that even when plans change, the journey still delivers its own kind of magic.

Would I do Forcella di Mesdì again? Maybe — with a hat, hiking poles, and a lot more sunscreen.

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FAQ about hiking Forcella di Mesdì