Actually the Stelvio, Gavia etc

There's a sight that was a bit better than yesterday, all the passes open.

The morning began with a 'car stuck on 45 degree slope' incident. Over Breakfast I had noticed that some branch felling had been going on, but thought nothing of it. Until I drove onto the 45 degree ramp that separated pitches in the tiered campsite and realised that I couldn't go any further forward due to the branches and a van parked in the way.

An Italian woman was watching my predicament with much interest as I weighed up options. I could either wait, or try and back up the slope. I chose the latter option. As the campsite slowly filled with smoke from exhausts and clutches I realised that no combination of clutch and revs was going to make this work. The lady meanwhile was kindly offering me lots of advice in Italian that I had no choice but to dismiss out of hand.....language issues, it was probably very sensible.


As the smoke lay heavily across the hillside I decided enough was enough and sought the driver of the blocking van. He was just around the corner, clearly oblivious to the sounds of car engines revving etc. Let's hope the clutch holds out until England.


Anyway, I had the Stelvio planned and I headed off up the road contemplating the enormous height gain I was about to ride, pic of the crazy east side here. At 1900 metres everyone came to a halt whilst the lots of the cliff-face above a gap in tunnels came crashing down.....I would not have like to have been hit by those rocks. Video here http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qXni0bQBR3E

After a 20 minute halt, the rocks were cleared and I carried on, through a small rain shower to the alpine meadows above a crazy section of hairpins.

The hairpins (switchbacks) are pretty hard to photograph, but I
have tried my best here. Hopefully it gives a good impression of the crazy way the Austro-Hungarians originally built the road up here, not sure they would do this sort of road-building nowadays.



I carried on and was passed by someone in full CSC kit on a Cervelo bike. Thinking it may have been a team member, I stopped to say hello and discovered that it was Dean from Australia, friends with team members but actually a bike shope owner over here for a bit of climbing.

The top of the pass at 2760 metres above sea level was the highest I have been with my bike, and the sun came out from the clouds in celebration. There were a few gift shops open where I bought some postcards and also the world's highest bratt-wurst stall with perhaps the jolliest patron.

He took my photo, he laughed alot and he served me a hotdog and laughed some more at his own jokes. They were pretty funny clearly. I had to take his picture.

The descent was cold and long and I was glad of the three layers I had on. I met up with Dean for some Italian dinner in Bormio and we agreed the next day we would climb the Gavia, it had been shut yesterday due to snow and would have been a shame to miss out on a climb that hosted a legendary stage of the Giro in 1988, where snow conditions were unbelievably extreme. The riders rode over the top in sub zero without gloves, arm warmers, hats etc....madness.

The Gavia is almost as high as the Stelvio and the bottom section dragged on for a while, but we were soon in alpine meadows and the temperature was dropping.
The scenery was still pretty snowy on the pass, but nothing compared to the postcards and pictures in the hut at the top. We grabbed a coffee and checked out the scarcely believable images of Andy Hampsten and co riding through the snow.

A summit photo and we descended, I didn't fancy the Mortirolo, now matter how easy I claimed it had been. Enough was enough.

I said goodbye to Dean, next stop Lake Como.

Bormio, The Stelvio, Mortirolo and Gavia Passes (almost)

The road to Italy from Austria involved stopping off in Lienz, which was a very nice town. And it had stuff open which was a bit of a novelty.

Note to Tourist information staff in Cortina d'Ampezzo.....before categorically stating that access to an internet terminal is absolutely not possible in town, check that the hotel immediately opposite doesn't have a computer available for immediate use.


I hit the autostrada, passed through some sleepy alpine towns before finally seeing the signs for the Stelvio Pass, my route into Bormio.

I had heard much about the Stelvio pass, supposedly it has 48 hairpins as it gains almost 1800 metres in height. Well, I was not prepared for what I found. The hairpins were very tight, the road was narrow and it seemed to go on for ever. The feeling that I was climbing into the clouds became an actuality as visibility came down to almost zero and the rain turned to snow. It has been 16c in the valley, it was now -1c at 2750m and my shorts and sandals were starting to feel a little inappropriate.

The road was barely open at the top...it was like the scene from 'The Thing' when Kurt Russell goes outside at the Antarctic base to investigate noises from the outbuildings....it was hostile. I didn't venture from the car for fear of expiring.

I finally arrived at a campsite in the warm and dry valley, it didn't seem possible that a few k's up the road the weather could be so different.

Next morning I set off for a classic loop, down the valley from Bormio, across the feared Mortirolo Pass, up to the huge Gavia Pass and then back down to Bormio.


The base of the climb was a little tricky to find (700m), but soon I was winding my way up hairpins before topping out at 1850 metres. I didn't think it was as hard as everyone (including Lance Armstrong) had said, it was steep and quite long but no too much difference from l'Alpe d'Huez in my estimation. Or maybe my legs are getting stronger.

Anyway, I dropped down the other side and headed for Punto di Legno (apparently the home of Benetton ?!) and grabbed a croissant in a roadside diner. To assist getting there I held on to the side of a tractor and trailer for a bit as they were doing a decent speed. The scene reminded me of those 'Man of the year' award photos...he was driving in a nice clean cab whilst the wife wearing dirty rags was kneeling in filth in the trailer. Oh Well, it was a welcome ride.

The waitress at the diner looked a little alarmed when I said I was about to cycle over the Gavia, but I assured her I would be fine, explaining that I had gloves etc...really it's no problem.

Until I got the the base of the climb to be confronted by the horror that the pass was closed ! Aaaagh ! A quick check in a restaurant to see if bikes were ok, and I discovered that the Stelvio was shut too. I was trapped in the wrong valley and the only way to get back was to go over the Mortirilo again...suddenly I was going to look foolish.....I took everything back about it being easy...please spare me ! The other option the lady in the restaurant recommended seemed to involve some town I had never heard of, most probably in the lowlands somewhere.....I might as well have gone back via Rome.

So I took the Mortirilo again. Actually the ride the other way wasn't too bad either, the only downer being the swarm of flies that swirled around me all the way up....I am sure it was the same flies as in Slonvenia. Weird why they do that, I thought it was just me until I rode by a chap who had twice as many above him.

It was a drag up the valley to the campsite, but I followed the wheel of a local chap with sinewy calves...he led me home.

As feared, the campsite was echoing to the now very familiar tones of an Austro-pop version of 'Mary had a little lamb'...seriously. Some Austrian cyclists nearby were playing this tape on constant loop. If anyone knows who is responsible for this noise...please let me know as I need to firebomb the recording studio.

Short clips from the last couple of days can be seen here : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fygLa9TdK44

The Roof of Austria - The GrossGlockner

Broadsword to Danny Boy, Broadsword to Danny Boy......."The Schloss Adler.....The Eagle's Nest....and it´s well named as only an eagle could get to it"......etc etc etc....these were the words drifting in and out of my mind as I toiled to the 2571m summit of the GrossGlockner Pass in the Austrian Tyrol.

Of course Burton/Eastwood fans will recognise the script of 'Where Eagles Dare' and the area reminded me of the the film...surely there would be an impenetrable castle perched high on rocks as I turned the next corner ?

I had driven to to Venice airport to drop Amy off and then headed back into the mountains, only this time I didn´t stop and headed right over the border into Austria, the town of Lienz and then on to Hellingblut below the GrossGlockner itself.

There are many advantages to riding a bike, but an additional one is that you save €28 by not having to pay the toll to enter the national park. I smugly rode through whilst motorists glared at my cheap abandon...I could hear Kurt saying to Heidi in a parked car ....."why doesn't he have to pay ?".


This mountain was clearly big, so I settled into a rythym and watched the metres go by as I headed up to the Franz Jospeh hut next to the glacier. I can't remember the name of the glacier, it starts with a P and there are some CH's involved too. Petasch or something.

Alpine rides aren't best measured in distance, it's more relevant to measure in height climbed to gauge difficulty, and it was at about 2300 metres that I tuned into the visitors centre next to the glacier.

The glacier, although impressive, is but a pale imitation of it's former glory around 100 years ago. The ice has shrunk dramatically and you now need to get a long cable car ride down to the surface of the ice (which didn't seem worthwhile) The pics on the left show it the day I was there and also in it's heyday.....it really has largely disappeared.


It's still Austria's and the Eastern Alps largest glacier, but it's no Baltoro or Moreno.

I had passed 'Achtung Marmot !' signs along the way, and now I knew why. The little furry critters were gambolling on rocks next to the glacier and a couple got close enough to get some decent photos.

I wrote and posted a few postcards, toured the rather inspirational info centre (which involved walking through a mock-up cave in cycling shoes - hard) just as the the clouds rolled in and I got a bit cold and wet backtracking to the turn in the road
that would take me to the pass proper.

As I toiled up into the snowline it got tough and I had my death-face on (borrowed from Lance...basically a glazed eyed, sunken cheeks look as you deal with the pain) and passed a Dutch couple by the side of the road.

As passed she looked up with a big beaming smile, gave the thumbs up and said "cool !". You can count on the Dutch to appreciate cycling and my facade of being a serious cyclist immediately evaporated. I couldn't help responding with a huge smile and felt in better spirits as I continued up through dark and damp tunnels.

The last 150 vertical metres to the EidelwiessHutte basically involved a spiral of cobbled hairpins where the gradient rose significantly. This was like cycling the Patterberg at 2500 metres !
Fortunately the hut at the top was welcoming and I immediately ordered a wienershnitzel and beer as reward for my efforts. Another cyclist who had ridden up with full panniers had the same thoughts....and we tucked into some tasty fuel.

The descent was marked by tour bus fun. One that came by had an obviously enthusiastic tour rep on board because the entire double-decker gave me a wave as they sped by in the slush. This prompted me to initiate the waving next time, and a succession of tour buses will have waved to a bedraggled looking cyclist high up on the GrossGlockner. Hope they had fun.


It was a great ride, weather was a little ropey...but next stop Italy again and Bormio.

Monte Zoncolan

The sign above the start of the steep stuff on Monte Zoncolan said "the gates of hell" in Italian, and that's what we were riding through...attempting what many people are already saying is the steepest road climb ever used in a professional cycling race. '2007, the legend begins' said another.

Were arrived in the area from Cortina the day before and ridden 25 miles to the base to try and ride the climb and watch the Giro ride up as a summit finish a few hours later.

On the way there I chatted with Ric Hjertberg, a manager at FSA (Full Speed Ahead, bike bits) and very friendly chap over to watch and ride the Giro course with hospitality. He had a helicopter option to the top.....unlike us.

Once we had gained our compsure we hit the lower slopes and were immediately out of gears. Oh dear.


Then after 2 k's and a small village, the serious climbing began..announced by that banner across the road.

To get an idea of what we would be pedalling up, a profile of this fearsome climb can be found here :http://www.climbbybike.com/climb.asp?Col=Monte-Zoncolan&qryMountainID=36 but the key stats are over 10 km's at 12% average with a kilometer of nearly 20% near the bottom. Owch !

The road through the forest ramped up and straight away our heart rates jumped to threshold. And then they kept rising......the crowds at the side of the road were cheering us on (especially Amy) but we knew that were were losing the battle. Just as Amy slowed to a point where the wheels were barely turning I heard a cry of 'Mark...MARK !' and turned round to watch her topple sideways onto the road, still clipped in.

The crowd rushed in to help...which being in Italy also involved the offer of a shot of Grappa. I took a swig and a breather and carried on up whilst Amy waited for the stars to disappear from her vision before being given a push start on the >20% ramp.

The other feature of the climb is that a bit like the Koppenberg, much of the bottom section is in a trench, so it feels like the crowd are looking into a gladiator's pit as you ride up.

The helpful pushes from the crowd continued for Amy (why do I not get pushed ?...ok, I think I know why) and she was given the traditional Italian two cheeked kiss by a marshal at the point where we cyclists were told to stop. There was still 5 km's to go, but I think the marshalls were wary of amateur cyclists causing serious medical issues and blocking the roads with ambulances before the pro race got there and they wanted to minimise the risk.

The leaders (Maglia Rosa, Di Luca on left) looked strong on very low gears (Ric, who was staying with Discovery Channel told me Sean Yates had specified 34 x 28 for their riders, we had 34 x 25) but the domestiques at the back were a different story. They were really struggling, some holding onto motorbikes or team cars and nearly all when offered a push replied with a faint 'Grazia' as spectators pushed them up the muderously steep slopes. Don't be fooled by glamorous TV pictures, they do not all make it look easy...the back markers looked like they were totally spaced out as they toiled up.

Mark pushing the pros on the left. They are suffering like dogs.

60,000 people were estimated to be on the slopes that day....I am sure it will become a classic, but don't expect to ride up it like you would l'Alpe d'Huez or the Ventoux....it is in a different league. On long climbs it´s my legs that get weary, on this I couldn´t really control my heart rate. Doing it on thrashed legs (ie summit finish after 100 mountain miles) would be impossible for me, I would make about 10 metres of the steep stuff. And I´d ignore that 12% average stat, take out the bottom two k´s of and it is much steeper.

If you live in the UK I reckon it is a bit like Winnats Pass x 8.

Back to Italy, Gran Fondo Dolimiti Stars, The Giro and Snow !

Have to be quick....everything seems to be permamently closed, or about to close here....

We drove from Slovenia into the heart of the Dolomites, Cortina d'Ampezzo. Then across a major pass (Falzarego - 2100m) to Arabba to register for the Gran Fondo Giro d'Italia Dolomiti Stars.

The campsite at Corvara was in a beautiful location....on the route of the famed ski tour the 'Sella Ronda' and we only need to turn left at the campsite entrance to cycle it. But first the Dolimiti Stars.

We got locked into the campsite by the barrier which didn't open until eight officially, but a phone call to the owner at home sorted that out...not sure we were that popular though.

So a little rushed we dropped over the Campalongo pass to join the 1000 or so starters for the race/ride.

The first part involved a descent for alost 20 miles and I was getting worried as my GPS altimeter just kept dropping and dropping height.

Finally at about 600 metres we began the first of four climbs that made up the ride, 83 miles and 3500 metres of climbing. The 3rd was the Passo Giau which was tough...long and steep. Chatted to an Italian couple on the way up before conversation died and it got serious.

Cold at the top, a marshall stuffed all sorts of food into my jersey pockets so I had a lucky dip as I ate on the descent. beautiful scenery, great organistation, lots of spectators and I felt good on the climbs. Didn't trouble the front runners though, the winner took 4 hrs 26, I took 5hrs 45.

Next it was time to watch the second biggest cycle race there is, the Giro d'Italia (Tour of Italy) itself. The pros went over one of the passes we rode and then had the daunting summit finish at Lavaredo to contend with. I rode up and waited in the rain and cold for the riders to finally appear.

I always feel like calling those poor boys mothers when I see them suffering like that.....it almost brings tears to my eyes to see the huge gaps and the lonely riders.......many were being pushed up. Pro cycling is a brutal sport.

Next day we rode the Sella Ronda curcuit in rain and about three degrees temperature. The ride was noted by lots of cheery Americans and Ozzies putting a brave face on it....and Amy taking a wrong turn and heading off to Austria by mistake. Argument still continues as to whose fault it was.....but essentually you can't go wrong when cycling right round a big mountain - keep turning left. Ahem...Amy turned right. Still, it gave me two hours in a mountain restaurant though where I troughed on Strudel. The T-Mobile squad were out training on their rest day...in the freezing rain. Cyclists are mad, especially ones like us who don't get paid. It was very cold on the descents and regular cafe stops were required.

Woke up ths morning wondering why my feet were colder than usual and the tent roof was sagging. Bizarre ???

Amy unzipped the tent door and we discovered that camping at 1500 metres in the Dolomites means that it can snow.... a lot !
This was quite exciting as far as was concerned, gets you out of bed, but we were due to leave and had to check that the passes were open. They were and we packed up a damp tent and headed over the two major passes to Cortina where it warmer, but drizzly. Lots of Pro-team lorries and vans seemed to be driving lost around the mountains, you can't move for Astana or Discovery this and CSC that. I am now in some sort of photocopying shop running out of time.

It's very snowy above 1500 metres and the snow ploughs have been out, but it's pretty wet rain and the roads will be clear for the Giro to come through.

There is more snow now than there was in Austria in January...I thought this was a sunny cycling trip !

Some recent video of the Giro and this morning's snow here : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9zS4YAyRKPM

Slovenian ride, Bovec - Kranska Gora - Tarvisio - Bovec

Wow, what a ride, but more on that in bit. The evening before we watched the Champions league final in a little bar. Pepe had joined us earlier and after some tasty and very cheap food we sank a few beers as the Liverpool were outclassed by AC Milan.

I couldn't understand the Slovenian commentary, but the result was fairly obvious and Pepe being a Milan fan was pretty happy.


Now, back to the ride. First off let me explain that photos don't do this place justice, it has quite simply the most stunning mountain scenery I think I have ever witnessed, made even more special by being on a bike.

I have been lucky enough to see many mountain areas over time and seen some special places, Mount Aspiring National Park, The Rupal Valley below Nanga Parbat in the Himalaya (unbelieveable 5km vertical cliff-face), K2, The Rockies, Zermatt in the Alps as well as Torres del Paine and Fitzroy in South America.

But I think this area may top the lot.

We started out on a loop that took us over two passes, into and out of Italy and then back to Bovec.

First up was some very gentle climbing from 450 metres or so to about 750m. All the while the turquoise waters of the Soca river were visible and I posed by a bridge for a photo. Then the climb to the pass that would take us over to the ski resort of Kranska Gora began.

Having crested the col at 1610 metres, I would suggest this would be an Hors Categorie or at least Cat 1. It had over 20 hairpins, a consistent gradient and almost 1000 metres height gain - nice.

More photos at the top and we began the descent to Kranska on a road that had views that must have caused my eyes to enlarge to twice their normal size, the scenery was eye popping.

Enormous vertical cliffs towered straight up out of the forests and it was impossible not to gawp upwards as the cobbled hairpins
carried us down. The French Alps are fantastic, but somehow this was better, if this is a taste of the what the Dolomites may involve then we are in for a treat.

Photos can't really capture the enormity of those towering vertical rock faces topped with snow...it was truly amazing. You need an Imax camera and cinema to convey what if feels like to freewheel down those roads as the trees rush by whilst the background up to the sky is filled with enormous rock faces.

We passed a little Russian Church that was built by surviving prisoners in in WW1, the text on the left explains more but basically this amazingly beautiful and peaceful place was the scene of bitter and pointless alpine fighting during both World Wars.....over a million died between 1914 and 1918 alone.

If bullets didn't get you avalanches and falls did, and this was at a time when they would get 6 metres of snow in the valley floor as opposed to the more meagre amounts nowadays.



The wooden Church was in fantastic condition considering the age, and I paused by the memorial wondering what the inscription said in Russian.






After re-mounting, we hurtled into Kranska and found a little bakery were we bought a tasty lunch for about 1 pound each....it's extremely cheap in Slovenia, ie beers are around 80p.

The ski resort looked lovely, I am not sure it is high enough or has enough lifts to tempt me to snowboard, but as a mountain town it is one of the most picturesque I can think of.


We went through the Italian border crossing without showing passports (not sure brigands and cut-throats often ride expensive racing bikes) and pedalled into Tarviso. A left took us on a road that would lead to the Predil Pass, lower than the other one at around 1100 metres.

But before that we stopped at a most beautiful lake - Predil lake - and it was so inviting I whipped off my jersey and plunged in.
And then scrambled out. Despite the air temperature being
around 30 degrees C, the water was still chilly and after a refreshing few strokes decided to get back on the bike. But The Bear (Mike D) would be proud !

Over the pass, another border crossing with disinterested guards (can never quite rule out being sprayed with machine-gun fire) and we were back into Slovenia for a long descent through more stunning mountains and forests until we finally dropped into our campsite in Bovec.

Around 60 miles and definitely amongst the best rides I have ever ridden. I am not sure this is in my book of 'rides you must do before you die', but it should be. I don't think you can get any better, and damp and busy roads in the UK winter now seem such a long long way away. It makes it all worthwhile.

Some video I took of this amazing area can be viewed here : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DCsVx5A6p9o

Slovenia

After 10 mins internet research, we decided to drive to Slovenia as it sounded a little more exotic than Tuscany (that can wait). The autostrada whisked us to Udinese and then we took the road from the town of Cividale (last town in Italy) across the Solvenian frontier.

The border guards examined our papers, luckily they were in order but we were advised that we had to have our car lights on at all times. We drove up the very lowly populated valleys (joking about banditos emerging from the undergrowth) and the scenery got increasingly beautiful, it was like a fantasy land we had entered - surely we needed to pay to get in here ?

Eventually after lots of very windy roads that revealed bigger and bigger mountain vistas we arrived at the town of Bovec, our base for the next few days. Bovec lies on the Soce (Socka) river - it's spelt in many variations - and the Kampsite (with a K - nice) office had all sorts of info on enticing options, kayaking, rafting, canyoning etc etc. Excellent, my kind of town. We were also told that they are shortly filming some of the second of the 'Narnia' films here, you can see why.

Next morning (after more gawping at the truly sensational view across the valley from the Kampsite) we talked to a very nice young lady at the tourist office who said we should do everything if we could, prices were cheap and there were hardly any tourists aroud this time of year. So we booked Kayaking for the afternoon and canyoning for the next day.

Before the river fun began, , we checked out nearby the Boca falls, the second tallest in Slovenia at 106 metres high. Being one for always choosing the more strenous option, we decided (ok, I decided) to walk up the mountain to the source of the falls which come straight out of the side of the mountain. It was a hot day and I drank about three litres of water as we toiled up the thickly forested slopes.

We arrived at the top to a fantastic view across the valley and we drank from the very cold waters as they emerged from the rocks. By the time I got back to the car the temperature inside was roasting and my power inverter alarm was going off as it was almost melting.



Next stop was kayaking. Our friendly wacky-haired guide greeted us and in no time we were equipped with all the paraphanalia we needed, wet-suits, paddles, overshoes etc. A chap called Pepe also joined us, he had just arrived from Mexico to be a guide for the season and this was his first trip onto the river) and pretty much the first thing he had done since arriving.

Following standard backpacker practice I made up some impressive sounding stuff about other rivers I had paddled to ensure we got some decent rapids, and was rather peterubed when Pepe began asking questions about the river in Costa Rica I had been on ! Luckily I backed up my stories with some facts (it was a Sarapiqui river) but I didn't mention it had been rafting rather than kayaking.

So once on the water and into some trickier stuff, the inevitable happened. As Amy drifted casually down-stream bypassing all the hazards, I hit an enormous rock and flipped upside down. My made up Eskimo roll skills proved themselves to be just that, made up, and once upside down and underwater I decided to eject the kayak to save myself from further humiliation (and a potential rock to the face).

This happened once more before the trip was over (following the guide through a narrow channel between rocks) and he decided that the next section of the river - the 1998 women's world cup course - was probably beyond us. Amy heartedly agreed as she had seen me swimming down the rapids next to my upturned kayak and was not eager to do something similar.

The river was perfect though, if I was a serious paddler it would have been heaven. And being one of the purest rivers in Europe you can simply lean over the side of the kayak and drink.....how awesome is that !

That evening Amy cooked up some delicious Burritos on the stove, this country is perfect, camping, mountains, rivers - and Mexican food.

Canyoning was on the agenda at 11 the next day, and after a lazy 'double coffee' breakfast we met up with Pepe et al again. Our new guide Christian followed the same process as yesterday (no signing your life away in Slovenia, or talk of payment) and we drove to the trailhead where we walked in wet-suits etc up the mountain.

The canyon was superb, almost purpose built as the difficulty level gradually went up. Swimming jumping and sliding down enormous shutes into plunge pools took up the next couple of hours, with our guide Christian cracking jokes that this was first trip he had done and that he had done all his research on the internet and that he wanted to test some new drop-offs using us !
The shutes became bigger until last up came the piece de resistance, the final super-size plunge shute.

Despite the fact I used to lead these sorts of sessions in Snowdonia, this final pool was extremely high and I couldn't even see the bottom. But Christian's advice worked, feet together, arms crossed, a few seconds of panic as the speed picks up and then whoosh, underwater in the cold before rising to the surface to see the sun glinting off the rocks.

A picture of this final shute is just above and to the left of this text, believe me it was a big drop. But we survived, although Amy's shoulder is a concern again - fingers crossed.

As I write this I am sitting in a school classroom enjoying free internet during a thunderstorm. Amy's computer next to mine just died on the last clap of thunder, but mine seems to be still going. Better sign off now before my luck runs out. The additional challenge is the keyboards aren't standard qwerty, they are qwertz, so apologies if some of this text looks a little Russian.

Cycling will start again soon (shoulder permitting), we are signed up for the Dolimiti Stars Gran Fondo in Italy on Saturday.

I love Slovenia.