Representation and reality

I am reading an interesting book (just published) by Andy Clark, “The Experience Machine….” about the now well-established fact that our perception works by predicting continuity and transmitting only to correct prediction errors – and then only what is currently relevant, because of limited band-width. One fact I didn’t know and one I knew but didn’t connect before. There are +/- 4 times as many neural circuits from brain to perceptual organs as from perception to brain. Aha! Explains a lot. And – broadcast engineers greatly increase capacity by using the same assumption. My first publication was a critique of naïve attempts to apply information theory to human communication (and my first book an expansion of that critique) but I failed to see how that one wholly justified and useful application of Information Theory might apply to human perception and conversation. (So did everybody else at the time.) From another interesting book, Enfield “The Way We Talk”: It takes a half second to understand an utterance and a half second to formulate a reply – painfully long - so keep conversation moving, we all maintain a representation of the conversation and use it to predict what the current speaker will say and when they will finish – and to maintain and constantly up-date our potential replies, so we can jump in as soon as they finish. If they surprise us, “um” or “uh” or an equivalent will hold the floor while we re-formulate the (erroneously) prepared reply. We live and act in a world we imagine, partially (as relevant) updated by our limited-capacity senses. Because our brains and neural circuits are slow, we experience the past and act in the future. I’m not sure what we mean, then, by “the present.”

Dolomites Hike 2023

Day 3 – July 4 Violent thunderstorm & rain last night, but sunny and clear this morning, the beginning of a three-day route (light blue line on the map, left. The red teardrops mark the two “refugios” where I stayed.) I debated hiking up to the ridge instead of the gondola, but warnings about a muddy steep trail nixed the trail – later I was glad. That delayed my start until 8:30 but it was only 10 minutes to the top. Starting out I encountered some confusion from the map program – and across this entire valley noticed that the trail signs didn’t always give the trail numbers, sometimes gave only local destinations, and sometimes Outdoor active app was confusing – I had several back-tracks. However, it was a lovely hike across and down into the valley, warm sunshine, beautiful vistas in every direction, accompanied almost everywhere by the symphony of cowbells. At first the most prominent view was the long mountain to the north (the first half of tomorrow’s walk), then the destination for today became more evident, though I didn’t realize it until later in the morning after I had approached more closely. I was quite taken by the pyramidal rock on the right end, and the little spire in the gap, details of which don’t show in this photo. The tall mound toward the left is the mountain top, the highest point on that end; my destination for the day, Schlernhaus Hut or “refugio” (more of a large dormitory really) lies at the foot of that mound on the left. The meadows are all filled with lovely wild-flowers; I recognize a few species but many of them are new to me. The pale purple ones in the photo (next page) are new to me. By the time I reached the grade leading up to Schwernhaus, clouds were already building in the sky (that seems to be a theme in this area.) The trail up the mountain is in the lower right corner of this picture; the large mountain in the distance is the destination for tomorrow – at the very far end of this long rolling meadow of a valley. It was a long climb up but I kept a slow steady pace and enjoyed walking. I reached Schlernhaus a little after noon (as usual, having snacked along the way on granola bars, an apple, and a couple of cookies). A young employee, probably college student, checked me in, showed me the boot room, where you are supposed to change from outdoor boots to indoor slippers, and warned me that rain was expected later (no surprise given the thickening clouds). I immediately started up the peak, and got a few nice pictures of nearby peaks, half-hidden in the clouds. Occasionally a patch of sun would break through and illuminate some of the peaks for a moment or two, as shown to the right. The fog thickened quickly, enveloping the refugio (“hut”) entirely, as shown on the next page. The temperature dropped rapidly, ruling out any possibility of sitting outdoors to enjoy the lovely patio area. Unfortunately my room, though single, is very small; the bed is the only possible place to sit. The only common area is the dining room – I sat there for a while, then one of the staff told me that I should sit at a table they had assigned to me, so I moved there. I think in better weather the patio area would be very nice in the late afternoon. The picture to the right shows the refugio just before it became totally enveloped in the cold wet fog. Day 4 – July 5. I went to bed early, slept quite well, and awoke about 5. Looking out the window I saw that the fog had totally cleared, so I dressed in all the warm clothing I had, put on my boots, and went outside. The first thing I saw was a pile of snow in front of the door (where it had apparently slid off the roof), and a few patches on the ground beyond. There was a thin high overcast but visibility was excellent and all the surrounding mountains were clearly visible. The first half of the hike ran along the top of the ridge separating two valleys, then past some fairly large peaks. It was easy hiking, moderately uphill until it approached the end of that ridge, and an area where two ridges meet, separated by deep gorges. The trail descended along the face of a cliff, with many switchbacks and a few places where gravel had slid down, damaging the trail and leaving only a precarious narrow path (for the most part the trails are at least three feet wide). Near the bottom of the descent I realized I was going to have to share the trail – with a flock of sheep. I sat down on a rock next to a switchback to wait and see what they would do. The bellwether saw me, and led the herd uphill onto a steep grassy slope where they commenced to graze – leaving the path open for me. From that point the trail began to undulate more, up for a while, down for a while, but with the large mountain next to my destination ever closer. I had seen and photographed that mountain from the far side of Ortisei the day before, and I had assumed it to be a single big mass. I had been thinking about whether I would climb that mountain, Sasso Plate, or not. I was beginning to feel a bit tired from the up and down, probably because of the need to keep adjusting my pace to the slope, and when I had reached the destination, Plattkofel Hut, I had almost decided not to do it. The climb is over 2100 feet, topping out at 9700, well into the thin oxygen zone, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to. Also, the usual cumulus clouds were beginning to form, many of them building up like thunderheads. However, as the trip notes warned the place was rather a zoo, with dayhikers all over the place and the manager too busy with them to spare any time at all for checking me in – and the room wasn’t made up anyway. I looked at the mountain again, studied the slant lines that were probably the route, and decided to do it. As usual, I set out uphill with short steps and a slow pace I could sustain without overtaxing my breathing. Fortunately this route is well marked with the red and white squares of paint every few feet so I didn’t need to stop and consult the gps – I just slogged on. Halfway up the sod and grass gave out, and it was just a scree field; bushwhacking would have been possible but it was very nice to have the best route marked well. I encountered a number of hikers coming down, as I expected; usually the trail is wide enough to allow easy passing. When I broke over the edge I was surprised to see the cross-marked top separated from me by a deep canyon sloping down on either side of a narrow stretch of rock – not terribly tricky, but a “steep” penalty for a mis-step. A young couple were on top; he offered to take some photos of me. I took a few others just to show how broken up this mountain top is – not at all the monolith I had thought it was. The ridge I was standing on stretches for some distance, with several other peaks beyond the one we stood on, separated by narrow, steep-sided saddles with a narrow path along the entire length – far too narrow and steep-sided to tempt me. In fact, the mist and the thickening cloud had me sufficiently concerned that I only wanted to hang around there for a few minutes. I hadn’t seen enough sign of thunderheads to be worried about lightning yet, but I had no desire to be up there in a thick fog, so I carefully crossed over to the top of the slope I had climbed and picked my way down, grateful for the splashes of color marking the way. As it often does, it subjectively felt like it took much longer going down than coming up. The fog did not thicken for another couple of hours, after I had checked in and set up my bed. I was in a room built to accommodate four people, but in spite of the claim that the place was booked full, no room-mates ever showed up. As in the other place, there was no place to sit except on a bed; I tried sitting on the patio wearing my pullover and jacket for a while, but the thickening fog and chill drove me in. About the time dinner was served it started to rain, then some lightning and thunder. I chatted to my English-speaking table-mates for a while, then we all went to bed about 8:45. Day 5 – July 6 Woke up to a clear sky – 5:15. Stepped outside to see how cold it was – and the door swung shut and locked behind me, so I had to go around front, push the door-bell; someone popped his head out an upper story window and told me the boot room was unlocked. (?). Anyway, I put on my boots and walked ¾ mile over to the next ridge and back to warm up and loosen up. Someone at breakfast said the forecast called for rain and, sure enough, the sky had clouded up by the time I set out. It did start a very light rain an hour into the hike – the familiar Portland dilemma, is it better to be wet from a light sprinkle and slightly chilled or wet from sweat and overheated? It didn’t rain long, and I hiked most of the way in my short sleeve shirt. The trail basically circles the mountain, with a possible detour to the top of one of the halfway down canyons that split the mountain where you can catch a lift down to a resort hotel at the pass above the Val Gardenas; the photo above shows this split. Officially the trail ends at a gondola down to Selva, but I chose to follow Trail 526 all the way to the pass – nearly level and not terribly long. The meadow-covered valleys are beautiful; I had to include one photo. It’s all pasture for sheep and cattle, and the animals all wear bells, presumably so they don’t get lost. I loved this gate – a tree stump for the frame and it’s two branches to form the gate. There are sheer cliffs like this all over the place; I thought this one was particularly impressive. One reason I chose to follow the trail all the way to the Selva Pass was to visit what is described as a “City of Rocks.” I wasn’t disappointed – the two mountains hovering over it justified the extra walk (and actually it was less than an extra hour, over nearly level and slightly downhill terrain). In the selfie you can see that the mountain is actually split into three by the deep canyons. The bus down to Selva was two stages; I had to change at a resort halfway down, but the stop was only 2 blocks from my hotel, which has a little balcony with a very nice view. The trip is halfway over, great trip thus far. If only I keep being lucky about rain! Day 6, July 7. Second day in Selva Day started out clear and sunny; I headed out at 8 for the recommended hike, a loop up to the top of Mount Stevia then down and back, recommend direction counter-clockwise, but with a hairy-sounding descent on the north side of Stevia I preferred to go clockwise, because if there’s scree and loose gravel I strongly prefer to go uphill. The route is in blue on the map to the side – 11 miles, 3800 feet up and down. The old trail follows the fall line for the first mile or two, but heavy construction equipment blocked that way, so I followed a street that switch-backed up the steepest part. One of the Trail 17 routes branches off fairly early, then a second at about Juac Hut, but I had decided to go clockwise so I continued on almost to Regensburger Hut / Refugio Firenze. At first I missed where the trail branched off so I had to double back. The first few miles were forested so I didn’t really get a clear view of the formation below until well past Juac Hut (which is far from a hut to judge by the external appearances). I walked clear around Stevia Mountain (below). The left-most knob is the top; it is separated from the other wing by a very deep chasm. The trail leads up another deep chasm (first photo on the next page), but after a little meandering through some pretty woods at the bottom the first part of the ascent, probably about half, is over a long slope of unstable gravel, cobbles, and small rocks. It didn’t take long for me to realize that this would be a nightmare coming downhill – and it was almost as bad above the gravel area. The top half or so of the climb is over stairs. Some of the stairs are made of planks (below and right), which would probably get slippery in even a light rain. Others are made of logs in front filled in with cobbles and gravel, which would provide better footing in rainy weather (left). One flight of stairs was a little narrow – they had strung a steel cable for support. It would have been much more welcome down on the scree. This picture also gives a good sense of the vertigo-inducing slope – and why they built these stairs. I talked to an Italian-American woman, obviously experienced, fairly near the top and she agreed that up is the only sane direction for this part of the trail. As it often happens on a trail like this, after climb-climb-climb suddenly you reach a ten foot long stretch of wide easy trail and – you’re at the top, looking at the top of that odd stone spire. The view behind the rock formations was so spectacular I decided I had to stop for a granola bar here. My new friend offered to take some pictures of me (left) before she hurried on. After enjoying the view for a while I started on down the trail, then thought again about it. The peak is only about a half mile and maybe 200 feet above the trail, and it was already after 11; I ran a serious risk of getting back to the hotel by one. So I back-tracked a quarter of a mile and climbed up the grassy slope on a faint trail to a pleasant almost flat spot at the top. There I spent well over an hour in complete solitude: Surprisingly few people make that extra little climb. I almost didn’t! While I was sitting there just soaking it in I took several more pictures, including a couple more selfies. Some (inevitable) afternoon clouds began to form – and created the composition to the right. I’d have liked to get the foreground peak a little closer to the center of the shadow-peak (but still off-center), but that would have required me to dash out into thin air, like Wiley Coyote, so I accepted the gift I had been given. I like the slightly off-center effect anyway. Eventually I returned to the trail and headed down again. As I headed down the sloping ridge I noticed the rock formation in the picture to the left – like teeth in the jaw of some monster. I sat for ten or fifteen minutes just gazing at these before moving on. The rest of the hike was uneventful – ups and downs, then a long descent, mostly on more of those stairs, logs back-filled with rock, no slippery gravel to contend with. I returned to the hotel by three, even after loitering so long on the mountain top. Day 7 July 8 Today I walked partway up a glacier-carved valley, then climbed up a steep trail 3500 feet to a ridge around the end of the valley; the red dot trail shows where the valley abruptly ends in a virtual wall – a true box canyon. The red trail meets the trail I took at a refugio – not much of a view from it, but a good base for several potential hikes. Trail 14 leads around the end of the canyon then, where several other trails converge, begins a long steep descent into Corvara, in the next valley over. It was a pleasant sunny day, with some clouds developing in the afternoon but never actually developing into much. Top of next page is the mountain that guards the entry to the long glacial valley. The first four miles, through the valley, was mostly forested, but an occasional meadow afforded views of some of the rock spires near the upper end of the valley – like the ones pictured to the right. As I climbed higher, I began to get the occasional view of the cliffs at the upper end of the valley, like the one shown at the top of the next page. I also began to see the sheer wall that terminates the valley – also pictured on the next page. At first I encountered several people but they must have turned off onto a different trail. After at least a mile of vertigo-inducing trail hugging the canyon wall, it broke out onto an upland meadow. Here, only a quarter mile from the refugio and the end of the canyon, I found a delightful meadow to stop and have a granola bar and sit a while to enjoy the view. It was only about 10.5 miles total and I really didn’t want to get to my next hotel too early in the afternoon. I saw one other hiker in the 30 minutes I sat there – very unusual! At the crossroads refugio I saw a young couple engaging a bunny, trying to feed it I think (not a good idea and strongly discouraged – but people will do it.). Its companion, who was having none of it (but still pretty tame) is pictured to the left. A half mile or so on, where the trail began its descent into the next valley, I found another great spot, this time a hundred yards off the trail, to have lunch and kill some more time while I took in the scenery. Here’s a picture of part of my view from my lunch spot. The hike down is pretty. Mellow actually – after the first 200 yards or so. I had been watching the trail up while relaxing over lunch, and seen only one big party and a handful of 2s and 3s. The big party went partway up the trail to the point shown on the right of the picture; by chance they returned to the main trail and started on just when I decided to head down. The trail is squeezed between two rocks just at the top, and there is a narrow, tight staircase – I had to wait for three people above the pinch point, and for at least 35 on the landing between there and the staircase. How I do love huge hiking groups – they are really the major pain in the butt in the Dolomites. Unfortunately I neglected to get a photo of that traffic jam point, but I did get photos of the mountain to the right of the trail coming down – the bottom part of the trail can be seen faintly on the right of the picture. I also got a nice picture of Corvara from several hundred feet up – right. I am in the nicest room by far I have had here – Hotel Villa Eden. My room has a balcony with a view of one of the mountains, two good places to sit inside, a roomy bathroom (a rarity in my experience) and a jacuzzi open at 4 pm – not quite hot enough for my taste, but still relaxing after a long hike. And they lent me a bathing suit – no charge – probably something a previous guest forgot. The dinner was also quite good – good salad bar, GF pasta with excellent pesto, pork chops well seasoned – oddly paired with black beans, but that’s the fashion now. Chocolate ice cream – full serving not the tablespoon full I had at the Crown. Day 8 7/9/23. 11.3 miles, 2700 feet climb. Today was billed as a potentially easy day – if you took advantage of the ski lifts to do the uphills, but I preferred to do the full hike. It started out with some frustration – supposed to catch a bus to another village, Badia, and it wasn’t clear where to catch it, but I encountered some other hikers from Oregon and they set me straight. Once I was on the bus it was a short ride, all downhill. The trail led uphill for over a mile on a steep paved road, which gave way to gravel for another couple of miles, still quite steep but through beautiful countryside. Eventually the trail loops back to a church, San Croce, and refugio named after it. An attractive place, but on a very pleasant Sunday afternoon it was crawling with hikers – and mountain bikers. Going uphill, most of the bike riders could barely go faster than I – a few of them not as fast – and their steering was consequently wobbly, requiring hikers to give them extra room. Downhill, they really zoomed. I didn’t see any of them wrapped around a tree so I guess they weren’t completely out of control. After San Croce, the trail is level for a mile or more, then heads downhill, soon joining a steep graveled road (fortunately the gravel is not loose. Near the bottom I decided to take a different trail, leading more directly to a trail that follows the river back to Corvara, instead of catching a bus back. It was a very pleasant three mile walk (not steep – it just rises 600 feet in those 300 miles) and I got back to the hotel before 3. At 4 I went to the jacuzzi to help ease my shoulders – and discovered that the heat turns on right at 4; I lingered until almost 5, and it finally got hot enough to do my muscles a little good. They have artists doing installations along the trail – I was quite taken with one that celebrates fairy ring mushrooms (the subject of local folklore). Even the full-size photo unfortunately doesn’t do full justice to it: the globes, about 6” diameter, on little “stems” a few inches high, in a circle 8 or 10 feet diameter, are very shiny and reflect the sun in sparkles reminiscent of a mountain lake. I will copy in the largest that will fit the page on the next page. I don’t want to sound like Ronald Reagan’s comment about redwood trees, but other than the fairy ring sculpture the mountain scenery did not really set itself apart from what I’ve copied in before. It’s all spectacular and there’s a temptation to show every photo I’ve taken but I’ll try to restrain myself! Tomorrow and the next day promise to be more exciting in terms of scenery – the trail goes higher, and it leads to some WWI battlefields with considerable historical importance. The sparkles actually look like little lights; much brighter in presence than in the photo. Even the shape of the ring is like a mushroom fairy ring – slightly uneven, dense in some places, not so dense in others. The largest globes are about 6”; the smallest only a couple of inches.   Dolomites 9 July 10 2023 Today was a long hike, 13.9 miles, 5496 feet total climb – I chose to do the whole thing. It was mostly a good day, truly fine weather. The company recommends against starting out in town on Trail 2A and recommends a chairlift to get you up the first fifteen hundred feet or so. I was glad I hiked it – the woods are sparse and afforded some nice vistas of distant mountains. However, there was some rock scrambling, some of it on the edge of a cliff. When I was near the top, I saw a sign for Trail 2B pointing back to Corvara with the word “facile.” Apparently all that scrambling could be avoided – also, I discovered when I looked more closely at the map, 2B comes out on the main trail a hundred feet lower. I had some frustrating experiences with the navigation app, Outdoor Active. It was set for trail 14 – Alpine Hikers recommends 13 and I should have just stuck with that, because partway through the app started leading me off onto minor trails that disappeared into the grass – “you’re leaving the route” when there is no other trail or, a couple of times, the trail it tried to take me on was headed downhill when the route was side-hilling – a hundred yards or so down, “you’re off the route.” I finally sat down, re-read the trail-notes, which are often frustratingly non-specific, and located the pass we were supposed to go over, climbed a hundred feet or so to trail 13, ignored the “you’re leaving the route.” Fortunately the app shuts up once you’re completely off its programmed route. As I mentioned the entire center section of the trail side-hilled around a mountain, a way above timberline, affording some superb photos. Once we got around the mountain, entirely new vistas opened up. Most of trail 13 after I joined it was relatively narrow, and required some scrambling over a jumble of fallen rocks and again where huge rocks made for gigantic step-downs or step-ups. As I have on half the trails out here, I wished several times for a green grubber or some other tread improvement tool – often 5 minutes with a good tool would have remedied an excessive slope or a narrow spot squeezed by slough from above. The trail notes recommend taking the chairlift up to Lagazuoi Refugio, the goal for the night. However, after bumming some added water from a bar, I elected to climb the 2000 feet. I was glad I did for several reasons, including the best photos I got on this entire hike, made more dramatic by cloud shadows. (bottom of previous page) This area was the front line and scene of heavy fighting during WWI and there are trenches scattered here and there and rock walls and caves (left) where digging a trench would be difficult. The one pictured is at the top of the mountain, a few hundred feet from the refugio. The peak is riddled with fortifications and caves, some dug for safety from enemy fire, some as part of a scheme to blow up an enemy position The refugio itself perches on a cliff with 360 degree views (right), and it’s dorm only – I share a room with 16 other people, in bunk beds. Unfortunately the clouds thickened enough to block the sunset – and the morning haze was too dense for sunrise – or distance photos. Fortunately there wasn’t much wind and it was warm enough that we could all sit outside until dinnertime then go for a sunset walk before bed, so the lack of indoor sitting space was not the problem it has been at other refugios. Food was adequate – the GF problem again; lots of great bread and pastries. However, they did manage to provide an excellent flourless chocolate tart for dinner, greatly compensating for the lamb chops (overcooked and I had to cut off literally half of each chop because it was pure fat). At breakfast I met five people, two art students, two employees of Nikon, and I think the third was either another Nikon employee or a guide. The art students were getting a multi-day lesson in how to use their Nikons to take fantastic nature photography. Talk about a plum job! How I envied those Nikon employees. Last day – July 11. 9.85 miles 1700 ft. Even beyond that pass, it clung to the side of a very steep hill, just below a sheer cliff, most of the way to the objective. One particularly interesting spot was where the cliff overhung the trail, and left about four feet of clearance, on a steeply uphill part. Fortunately, the trail opened out onto a more moderately sloping meadow not much further, and that led to a saddle, with the objective just beyond. The hiking notes described this as a moderate day – and I could have made it a little more moderate by waiting until 9 – but by 9 I was already down the mountain and over a mile up the trail. Where it got not at all moderate was when the trail (#441) came to the final pass – two or three hundred yards of the most intense rock scrambling I’ve ever done, straight up a narrow split in the mountain-top, some of the reaches three feet or more, with only a dimple in the rock for footing. It was fun, but pretty taxing, and not for the faint of heart. The objective of the hike was Cinque Torri, a cluster of gigantic rock slabs standing on end, a few upright but most leaning at crazy angles – and a mecca for rock climbers from all over the world – several were on top of some of the slabs, and others on the way up. It was fun hiking partway around, then through a passage between two of the slabs into an open area climbers were using as a staging area. The hike back circled the other side of the mountain on Trail 440, descending sometimes gradually, sometimes very steeply, with some more rock scrambling – nothing remotely like that on 441. The cab obligingly picked me up at 2 instead of the scheduled 5, so I arrived in Cortina well before dinner, in time to clean up and walk around a bit. The Cortina d'Ampezzo is a 4-star hotel, frankly not nearly as comfortable as the “3-star” Hotel Villa Eden. The Cortina d’Ampezzo has many more staff, young men who don’t seem to be doing much most of the time, and does not have any seating on the balcony – a great advantage of the Villa Eden. In my book, the Cortina d’Ampezzo’s 4-star rating is just for pretentiousness, gilded antique décor, and a bell-boy who hung around expecting a tip (I didn’t realize that hotel bell-boys are an exception to the “no tips expected” generalization about Italy until I googled it again). The town is nice, and I’m sure it is a great place to live. Overview This was a great experience – the Dolomites have to be one of the world’s most spectacular mountain ranges. The crowds are a problem but did not spoil the trip. My cab driver tells me that the last half of June and September – “shoulder” seasons – are much better for the crowds. The scenery is wonderful, the trails as well-maintained as gravity and unstable soil allows. Many are quite steep, and in a few places it feels rather precarious. Loose cobbles and gravel are problems on many of the steep stretches: I blessed my trekking poles on every hike (and still managed to have my feet slip out from under me once). Good equipment is essential – sturdy boots, trekking poles, a hat with a brim, sunglasses. Overall I consider it one of my great hikes. It would be possible to arrange this for yourself – expect to spend a couple of weeks researching trails and accommodations and arranging luggage transfers. Alpine Hikers did a good job for me and saved me a lot of time. It would also be possible to spend a week or ten days almost entirely in the high country, hiking from one refugio to the next – the people I met who were doing that were mostly in groups with a guide. If you’re lucky enough to have several friends interested in adventure travel, hiring a guide would also be worth it. For a solo traveler or a couple, it would be quite expensive. Hotels The best hotels I stayed in were the Hotel Cosmea in Ortisei and the Hotel Vista Eden in Corvara. Comfortable rooms with comfortable places to sit both inside and outside on a balcony – with a great mountain views. Competent, relaxed, friendly and attentive staff, great food morning and night. The Vista Eden has a table and two chairs on the balcony, comfortable for reading or writing or just chilling out. The Hotel Cosmea in Ortisei also has a nice outdoor garden. The owners are very helpful and kind; when I arrived late because of a delayed flight they kindly managed to put together an excellent gluten-free supper for me on very short notice. Both of these hotels were very successful at accommodating my dietary restriction. Another option to consider, if you don’t mind the dormitory sleeping arrangement, would be to book a bed in a refugio for several nights (some of them have single rooms) for several days and use it as a base camp – most of them are situated at the convergence of several trails, enough for at least three days’ hiking. I talked to several people who were doing that. If you don’t have dietary restrictions the food is pretty good – unfortunately breakfast relies heavily on bread and pastries, but they all serve some meats, cheeses, and yogurts. At dinner there is often only one suitable dish for each course. I don’t know what the situation would be for other food allergies. Accommodations in the refugios are often bunk beds, dormitory style, with no place to sit indoors – the dining areas are often locked until just before each meal. If weather is good the outdoor patios are great – great views, reasonably comfortable, but if weather is bad it can be rather miserable.