Standing in the heart of Cortina d'Ampezzo, I found myself speechless. The Dolomite mountains rose around this charming Italian village like ancient guardians, their jagged peaks piercing the sky in a display of nature's grandeur that defies description. As I wandered through the narrow cobblestone streets, the sheer scale of these limestone giants created a humbling sensation—one that every visitor to this UNESCO World Heritage site experiences.
The vocabulary that came to mind felt inadequate, yet three words repeated themselves: awe-inspiring, majestic, surreal. These aren't just mountains; they're a masterpiece carved by time itself, where vertical rock faces meet pristine alpine meadows in a dramatic contrast that has drawn adventurers for centuries.
What makes Cortina truly extraordinary, however, is its dual identity as both a skier's paradise and an Olympic heritage site. This small village doesn't just offer world-class skiing—it embodies the spirit of the Winter Games. The 2026 Milan Cortina Winter Olympics will mark the second time these peaks have hosted the world's greatest winter athletes, having previously welcomed them for the 1956 Winter Olympics. Walking through the town, you can feel this legacy in the air, a palpable connection to sporting history.
My journey led me to Mount Faloria, one of the most celebrated peaks in the region. As a snowboarder, I'd experienced powder across North America, but nothing prepared me for what awaited here. The ascent alone was breathtaking—the cable car climbing through layers of atmosphere as the valley floor receded and the panorama expanded.
Stepping onto the slopes, the conditions were perfection itself. The Italian Alps had blessed us with a recent snowfall, and under a brilliant sun and cloudless azure sky, the mountain transformed into a playground of infinite possibilities. The snow quality was exceptional: light, dry, and responsive beneath my board—a far cry from the heavier coastal snow I'd known elsewhere.
I carved down steep, challenging runs that tested my skills while rewarding me with adrenaline and pure joy. Between the marked trails, I discovered pockets of untouched powder where I could float through turns, the snow spraying in crystalline arcs with each movement. The terrain varied dramatically—open bowls giving way to gladed runs through ancient pine forests, then opening again to traverse along the bases of towering cliffs that shot upward like natural skyscrapers.
Throughout the day, I couldn't stop scanning the horizon. Every glance revealed a new perspective, a different play of light on rock and ice. The Dolomite peaks, with their distinctive pale hue that glows pink at sunset (a phenomenon locals call "enrosadira"), created a backdrop that no ski resort in Utah, Colorado, or British Columbia could replicate.
Midway down one particularly exhilarating run, I encountered Stedman Poe, an Alabama native whose skiing resume includes the legendary slopes of Utah's Wasatch Range, Montana's Big Sky, Colorado's Rockies, and Canada's Whistler Blackcomb. Yet here he was, equally captivated.
"It's incredible," Poe told me, pausing to catch his breath and take in the view. "These are the best views I've seen." His Southern drawl carried a note of genuine wonder that matched my own feelings precisely.
Poe considers himself an "off-piste" enthusiast, preferring the unmarked terrain that requires both skill and local knowledge. Even for someone accustomed to hunting for secret stashes, Mount Faloria delivered. "It's steep, it's fast, and it's fun," he said with a grin, his eyes scanning the terrain ahead. "But it's these peaks that make it special. You feel... small, you know? In the best possible way."
Our conversation took place on a slope with its own Olympic legacy—the very run that had hosted the giant slalom competition in the 1956 Winter Games. Standing there, you could almost hear the echoes of past champions, their skis etching history into this mountainside. The gates were long gone, but the spirit remained, infusing the snow with a sense of purpose and achievement.
As the afternoon progressed, the light began its magical transformation. The sun, now lower in the western sky, painted the limestone spires with strokes of rose, orange, and deep violet. This alpenglow, unique to the Dolomites, turned the already spectacular scenery into something transcendent. The mountains seemed to ignite from within, their rocky faces burning with color before cooling into twilight shadows.
My final descent came via the cable car, a peaceful journey that offered a different perspective. As we floated downward, the village lights began to twinkle on, and the peaks stood as dark silhouettes against a sky streaked with the last remnants of sunset. Even after a full day on the slopes, I couldn't look away. These mountains had given me more than just great runs—they had offered a glimpse into something larger.
What makes Cortina d'Ampezzo and its Dolomite setting so special isn't just the exceptional skiing conditions, the Olympic pedigree, or the breathtaking scenery—though it has all these in abundance. It's the way these elements combine to create an experience that touches something primal in every skier and snowboarder. You don't just ride these mountains; you connect with them.
For a brief moment, carving down those historic slopes under that infinite sky, I understood what drives Olympic athletes to dedicate their lives to this sport. The purity of the experience, the challenge of the terrain, and the beauty of the environment merge into something that transcends mere recreation. It's a pursuit of excellence in nature's grandest arena.
Cortina d'Ampezzo gave me many things: perfect powder, challenging terrain, unforgettable vistas. But most importantly, it gave me a taste of what it means to be an Olympian—not just in skill, but in spirit. Long after my tracks have been covered by new snow, the memory of those majestic peaks will remain, calling me back to where the mountains meet the sky and dreams take flight.