I used Avocet Road 700x28 wire-bead, non-Kevlar tires on 36 hole Mavic MA-2 rims with 1.8-1.6mm DT spokes; Campagnolo Record brakes (Kool-Stop red pads), small flange hubs with a SunTour new winner pro 6-speed FW 13-15-17-19-21-24, Sun Tour Pro derailleur and downtube shift levers, and Shimano Dura Ace 180mm cranks with 46-50 CW, SPD 525 pedals and M110 shoes; the frame is steel and about 26" with oversized top and downtubes using an Avocet Racing 20 Turbo Gel saddle on a two bolt Campagnolo Record seat post, steel Cinelli bars and Ritchey stem. I wear Avocet polypropylene shorts and jerseys. My suitcase and bicycle go as two pieces of legal overseas air baggage and, with my small carry-on bag, can be taken on trains on arrival. Whole bicycles can be shipped by air but upon arrival the bicycle cannot be carried onto most trains. Sent as baggage, the bicycle can cause one or more days delay just when it is least convenient.
We stopped for photos at the Luzern Lion sculpted into the cliff and then watched Alpine swifts dart around the tower on the wooden bridge across the Reuss under low clouds. We visited Mrs Dierauer Sr on the Musegg, above the Armory at the city wall. As we sat on a stack of newspapers to protect the furniture, we exchanged anecdotes of some of the things we experienced since last year and munched on sweets, fruit and hot tea. Mrs Dierauer offered John the waterproof parka of her late husband, because John was still shivering from the bike store jacket, that was neither water nor truly windproof. It also had no hood, an essential for such a jacket. We headed off to Hergiswil past the Alpnachersee, with deserted beaches on an empty road.
The rain let up as we approached Sarnen, so we cut across town just past the train station to the the small road up to Flueli-Ranft and into the Melchtal. At the town of Melchtal in the Melchtal, we stopped for a warm lunch before the climb. The road becomes narrow (timed one way traffic) and steep with a 12% grade at Stockalp (1075m), at the end of the valley, climbing to Frut (1902m) and the Melchsee in seven kilometers. From Frut, we rode around the lake and climbed to the higher reservoir and into snowfields as we approached the end of the road at Tannen (1976m). Here we took a hiking trail around the granite wall to Engsteln (1837m), where we descended the private road from there to the Susten Pass road to reach the Haslital at Inertkirchen (625m).
We rode up the three hairpins of the Kirchet (709m) to the Lammi Gasthaus where we turned off to Rosenlaui. This road climbs steeply through a forest and heads into the canyon of the roaring Reichenbach where Sherlock Holmes and Dr Moriarty went over the falls to meet their deaths. The Rosenlaui glacier and the Wetterhorn come into view as the road rises above the cascades of the Reichenbach. The road levels off in a high valley before Rosenlaui, where we stopped at the Hotel Rosenlaui (1330m), where Andreas and Christina Kehrli preside. After a hearty dinner of hackbraten with roesti and a tall (58dl) cool Eichhof beer, we retired to the 5th floor "touristenlager" accommodations where we were the only guests and got a good night's sleep to the sound of pouring rain and the rushing creek.
The road widens and gains a center stripe just before Grindelwald (1034m), where we inspected the BOB and WAB cog railways before heading down the Luetschine river to Interlaken with a favorable breeze. On the way we passed the Schynige Platte (BOB) 800mm gauge cog trains that were loading passengers who had just arrived from Interlaken on the BOB (Berner Oberland Bahn) meter gauge train. I doubt they saw much in the low clouds, but the tour must go on.
In Interlaken (563m) we looked back across the large meadow in the middle of town for a view of the cloud truncated Eiger-Moench-Jungfrau that were just visible in the haze. From here we headed east along the Brienzer Lake to Brienz where the BRB steam cog railway was loading passengers as we ate lunch on the steamer dock. We continued past Meiringen back over the Kirchet (709m) to Inertkirchen (625m) and up the Grimsel road to Gutannen and Handegg (1402) where the rain began in earnest. We climbed to the high dams of the Haslital Power Company that hold back the Aar river. The rain faded to a drizzle at the Grimsel (2165m), to reveal a view of the Finsteraarhorn (4275m) to the west, the source of the Unteraar and Oberaar rivers.
The banks of the summit lake still lay under snow while the water was covered with a sheet of clear new ice between floes of old ice. A few snow flakes blew around between the drops as we stopped for a hot chocolate at the Gasthaus at the end of the lake before descending to Gletsch (1761m) almost straight below in the Rhone valley. Here a panorama of the 266m higher Furka Pass, and the desolate glacial valley 400m below via stacked hairpins lay before us. Clouds and late afternoon lighting competed a classic stormy ambience for the Grimsel.
The rain stopped as we reached Gletsch and rode up the Furka Pass (2431m) to take obligatory pictures in front of the Rhone Glacier. It was good to see how much progress the DFB had made in the construction of its new highway crossing. To comply with new highway standards, this project makes the right-of-way descend more steeply, so that the train can cross the highway on level track without cogwheel drive. Looking back from the Furka summit we saw that the usual late afternoon fog cascading through the Grimsel gap onto Gletsch as so much cold air from a freezer chest.
We crossed the broad summit, coasting down an empty road above the Furka Reuss canyon toward Realp (1538m), with the Oberalp Pass visible beyond Andermatt. We stopped in Realp at the DFB (Dampfbahn Furka Bergstrecke) engine house, but their season had not yet started so there was no action. A light drizzle began to fall as we approached Hospental (1452m) where we stopped for the night at Hotel Roessli.
We took pictures of the old serpentine road, in the Val Tremola below, with its stack of hairpins traversed by the trace of the Roman road. Below the Fortezza, bicycles are relegated to the old road of poorly maintained paving stones that give a great vibra massage. The road levels off in Airolo (1165m) before descending to the Ambri-Piotta valley, from which the SBB Ritom funicular railway climbs at 100% grade to a reservoir that supplies railway power.
Although the double track Gotthard railway, with corkscrew tunnels and many bridges is impressive, it is dwarfed by the enormous bridges and tunnels of the split level motorway, so high above that it is out of one's field of vision. In contrast to railways, the cost of such super highways is seldom questioned because they allow the public to ride this amusement park without perceptible cost. Meanwhile, the otherwise roaring Ticino River, that is mostly diverted from its polished granite bed for hydro power, had only a token flow of clear mountain water.
We stopped briefly at the super market in Biasca near the railway station, where a multistage waterfall descends from out of the clouds to the valley, finally crossing over itself in two opposing streams that flow from a swimming hole about 100m above. We rode on to Bellinzona where we were the last customers in the grocery store as we selected a hearty lunch. Under cloudy skies, it was a straight shot to Cadenazzo and along the east shore of Lago Maggiore (193m) into Italy. Here the lake is lined with holiday homes with gardens of sweet smelling wisteria and deep blue and pink hydrangia.
Once in Italy, we stopped in Luino at the bancomat for Italian money. The convenience of using an ATM card to access my home bank is a great leap forward from the days of cashing travelers checks, at banks that were never open when you needed one. The lake looked refreshing but the air temperature didn't encourage swimming. Just as well, because it was the kind of cool air that suits bicycling. At Laveno we took the ferry to the busy side of the lake in Verbania from where we crossed the Toce river that originates on the San Giacomo Pass. From here it's a small climb to Omegna (298m) and the Lago d'Orta where traffic again dwindled to nothing along the east shore. This lake has an island with a picturesque red stone castle and small forest.
Beyond the lake at Gozzano (367m), we turned west and climbed to Pogno (461m) where it started to rain and continued to drizzle as we headed up the road through a chestnut forest as is common all over the Piemonte. Toward the end of the canyon the rain stopped before we entered the tunnel (598m) from which we descended to Borgosesia (359m) on pavement steaming in the late afternoon sun. We crossed the high stone arched bridge over the Sesia, beneath which large trout and swans decorate the deep blue waters. We stopped to say hello to a restaurateur who runs a great osteria where we had eaten on past tours. Being early, we headed off westward past Trivero (580m) where Richard and I had found a hotel last year.
At Valle Mosso we turned north along the ridge to Mosso Santa Maria and on to Veglio where "the bridge to nowhere" crosses a deep ravine to Pistolesa (655m). The route to this bridge escaped me for years as I marveled at it from below until Brian Tomlin from Ivrea found the way to get there. The weather made the view from the bridge to the south over the vast Po valley unusually clear in the golden evening light that cast a shadow of the bridge onto the roofs of Veglio. The new bungee center seems to have given purpose to the bridge. A red carpet and gate in the suicide prevention fence in the center of the span presumably allow jumps now, that don't end in tragedy.
We descended from Pistolesa to the main road in the valley from which we climbed a few ridges to Biella (410m), arriving at dusk. After riding around for awhile, we found a hotel that was too ritzy for our taste, so we asked the receptionist and got directions to a hotel that was more our speed. After a hike around town we found a pizzaria that filled our minimum daily allowance with reasonable quality.
As Brian headed back to work, we rode on to Chivasso where the bridge over the Po, that had been washed out three years ago, had finally been replaced. We followed the south shore of the river, catching lunch in a restaurant just before Torino. In town we cut through the center, past the Mole' and Stazione Centrale, down the Via Nizza so that we could see the former Lingotto FIAT plant with its banked speedway on the roof. The Officina Lingotto did not disappoint us. Its planned conversion into a European auto center was coming along well with a large section of the building renovated and an elegant looking main portal completed.
At the edge of town we headed south on Rt N20, the Tenda Highway. We stopped for refreshments In Raconigi, where a two kilometer long brick wall parallel to the road encloses the castle and grounds of the Savoias, the last royal family of Italy. We learned from the man behind the counter that the castle was a national museum and that the Savoias lived in exile in France. Raconigi is at about half of the 87km flat distance to Cuneo (587m). Although it didn't rain the clouds hung low and made sure we couldn't see the mountains until we were in Cuneo where we crossed the high stone arch road and rail viaduct over the Stura di Demonte.
After a drink of water at the great fountain in front of the train station, we headed up the road to Borgo San Dalmazzo (641m) and then south toward Robilante (686m). In Robilante we dropped in on the great chain saw store, who's owner turns out to be the uncle of David Clucas, right here from the internet. Dave was there on a visit at the time but out of town, so we missed him. We stopped for the night at our usual spot just up the road, the Albergo Ristorante Aquila Reale.
Formerly pavement ended at the border, a kilometer from the top, where the surface reverted to baseball sized gravel. This stretch is paved now as are some of the turns on the south side. The view at the summit exposes a greater panorama than the altitude might suggest, in addition to stone roadhouses that served travelers before the turn of the century. Huge fortifications, some of which were part of the Maginot line, stand empty as sentinels of history. I was reminded of how natural tunneling is to all of Italy, a mountainous country, where maps reveal endless black dotted lines (tunnels) of railways that seldom see light. In the USA we marvel at bores like the Moffat in the Rockies.
Today the ancient harsh roadbed of the Tenda pass is gradually being covered by asphalt, a few curves at a time. Historic photographs of animal teams, steam tractors, and solid tired chain driven trucks that traveled this road, make today's "hardships" pale in comparison. The south side is still mostly the 19th century road, steep and with more than sixty loose surfaced hairpin turns that make tight going even for a jeep. We made our way carefully down the deeply rutted turns into the rocky gorge of the Roya river where we joined the swift curves of the Tende highway, French Rt N204 at the south portal of the tunnel.
At Vievola the railway emerges from its tunnel only to vanish into a loop tunnel followed by many bridges as it descends to Tende (816m). We stopped for lunch here and visited an ATM for French money before coasting down the Roya canyon through the vertical and overhanging walls of the Soarge Gorge. We could barely make out the road to the town of Soarge as it bores trough cliffs high above, and whose tunnels have few windows to reveal the route. Soarge is a linear cluster of houses glued to cliffs so that some have more than a hundred meter freefall from their windows.
After St Dalmas, just before Breil (286m), we turned west on Rt D2204 up the Col de Brauis (879m). We climbed under threatening skies, and as we approached the roadside spring under the willows 2/3 of the way up, the rains came. We put on out jackets at the spring while four motorcyclists did likewise. The landscape here is Mediterranean with sparse vegetation, olive trees and leafless broom (gorse) blooming bright yellow and giving off a sweet smell. Our favorite two cherry trees were not doing well and had little to offer due to hailstorms.
We descended to Sospel where the rain turned to a drizzle and finally stopped as we arrived. We took pictures of the old stone arch bridge over the Bevera, reminiscent of the Ponte Vecchio in Florence with its collage of buildings. We dropped in on the great ice cream store and bar at the junction of the Brauis, Braus, and Turini where we ordered hot chocolate for a change. The innkeeper, who always greets us as though we were real regulars, told us that the shop has been in the family for several generations. When we suggested that it was about time he visit SF, he said it was in his plans. I gave him my address and hope to see him here some time soon.
We rode north up the valley on Rt D70 to the Turini pass (1607m) that figures prominently in the Monte Carlo Automobile Rallye. The climb starts gradually as the road heads into the ever narrower rocky canyon of the Bevera before it passes through the monastery of Notre Dame de Menour that straddles the road at a high narrows of the canyon. From here the road is fairly flat through Moulinet, after which it stays mostly in shade of a pine forest to the summit. It was raining as we came out of the forest at the summit, so we put on our jackets before the descent to the Vesubie river. Part way down, where the road comes out of the trees, a panorama opens with the walled village of la Bollene-Vesubie perched picturesquely on a knoll in the foreground amid the hills of olives, gorse, and golden grass.
We joined Rt D2565 at the Vesubie and climbed gradually to St Martin (930m), a pleasant town before the narrows at the foot of the Col St Martin or Colmain (1500m). Having found the Hotel des Tres Ponts comfortable last year, we gave it another round. This time the hotel kitchen was operating so we ate in their restaurant that turned out to be excellent. During the night it rained so hard, the sound of splashing drops obscured the sound of the rushing water down a stone flume in the center of the street. That, the lightning flashes and thunder made it a wonderful night.
The final descent to the Tinee and Rt D220, traverses rugged rock walls where the river appears to be directly beneath as the road passes through bare rock tunnels connected by bridges. We turned south down the Tinee to its confluence with the Var where we turned west on Rt N202 parallel to the Chemin de Fer de Province, a vestige of a large meter gauge rail network that once served the region from Marseilles to Nice. I chose this route to see the Gorge du Cains to Beuil (1435m) and Valberg (1829m) that I last saw on my 1960 tour. I recalled the dark narrows of this defile of which I have only one fuzzy picture for lack of light for my ASA "zero" Kodachrome of those days.
We were not disappointed because the Petite and Grande Clue had remained unchanged, a tunnel having been built through the wall leaving the old route notched into the stone as in ancient times and open to non motor traffic. From Valberg we took the "back" road, Rt D28, that descends next to a huge steep rocky riverbed of boulders, to Guillaumes (819m) in the Var valley, where we ate a pizza lunch indoors while it rained intermittently.
We enjoyed the cloudy weather as we continued up the Var on the practically empty Rt D202, on the way to the Col de la Cayolle. The "temporary" Bailey bridges at St. Martine d'Entraunes (1260m) over the Var looked just as permanent as they did 37 years ago. Here we stopped for a late afternoon food stop before stopping for the day farther up at Entraunes (the sleepy village at the foot of the Col de Cayolle (2327m) and the Parc National du Mercantour, a nature preserve with wildflowers instead of ski lifts, hotels, and kiosks.
We ate lunch at the market in Jausiers before heading north through Condamine where we have often stopped for the day. We passed the great cliff fortifications and the Col d'Larche (1991m), where most traffic turned off to Cuneo and our road got smaller. We passed St Paul sur Ubaye (1470m) at the foot of the Col de Vars (2111m). We bought postcards and a soda at the old sheet metal shack on the summit that was already decrepit in 1960 when I first saw it. The same people still run the concession today. The new hotel and snack bar that just opened last year or so, had burned to the ground since last year and wasn't making any signs of renewal. After a short descent, a panorama opened to the north, up the Durance river toward Briancon and Guillestre (1000m) far below in the foreground.
We rode right through Guillestre and headed into the narrow canyon of the Guil river toward the Izoard pass, climbing gradually along the crags in and out of bare rock tunnels. Two belly rafters came downstream in the raging whitewater before we reached the junction at Chateau Queyeras, where our route D902 takes a sharp left up the Riviere valley while the road to the Colle dell'Agnello (2758m) goes straight. We arrived in Arvieux (1544m) at the grocery store in time for a mid afternoon snack to take us over the pass.
At Brunissard the road, that was under construction last year, had beautifully smooth pavement but was still steep as an Austrian road. It began to rain harder as we climbed the series of long traverses to the false summit from which we could make out the obelisk at the top. We took pictures at the Coppi monument, before riding up the second climb to the top of the Col d'Izoard (2361m). The museum of bicycle racing memorabilia from the Tour de France was closed but we weren't in the mood to hang around in the downpour anyway. We were already thinking dinner and the Hotel des Glaciers on the Col du Lauteret.
The rain let up as we descended to Briancon (1391m) where we rolled through town and up Rt N91 with its gradual slope at 4% to 5% to the Col du Lauteret (2095m). The valley was wet, with curtains of rain hiding the mountains but it's not far and the bike was rolling well. As we rounded the last turn to the summit and headed for the Hotel du Glaciers our jaws dropped at the sight of a full parking lot and the grand dining room full of celebrating people.
We asked for a room at the desk and were told the hotel was full, so after giving it a thought, I asked to talk to Monsieur Bonnabel (the owner operator). When Domenic came down from the wedding party he looked at us casually and said, "oh yes, the Americans, they have a reservation" so that the staff could hear. We went to our room and discovered that the hotel was essentially empty, from which I deduced that the staff had probably been told they could close the hotel and concentrate on the wedding and dining room and that the "oh they have a reservation" was an excuse to not turn us away. It is at moments like this, that one appreciates good friends. I have been stopping there since 1960 and have known the Bonnabels for years.
There were bits of old snow drifts near the summit, making the road perpetually wet as the snowmelt ran across the road. The wind was in our favor, so we rolled easily down the broad curves to Plan Lachat. Much of this section is visible from the summit and is a common scene in TV reports of the Tour de France. The grade is good for about 60km/h if you hurry, but this is often translated "accidentally" to 60mph by sports commentators. Today with accurate digital speedometers, the truth is out, but that hasn't affected reporting.
From Valloire (1430m), the road gradually climbs a mild but significant rise to the Telegraph (1570m), a Roman signal station and early French fortress that commands a clear view up and down the Maurienne valley of the Arc river. From the Telegraph, the road descends with many hairpin turns in a pine forest to St Michel (712m) where it joins Rt N6. On the way down we stopped for a photo opportunity and came upon a couple from the USA who were making a video of their ascent of the Galibier. The cameraman turned to me and said "you must be Jobst Brandt", and told me he could recognize me from my writings on the internet. I'm not sure what I wrote that enabled him to recognize me with such certainty, but it seems to be in there.
After lunch in a small restaurant in St Michel, we headed up the valley toward Modane (1057m), the portal of the Frejus road and railway tunnels. Above Modane, in the valley at la Bourget, we passed the supersonic wind tunnel that seems out of place, there being no airstrip nearby. The road levels off high above the narrows at Avrieux, where buses had unloaded their tourists who were admiring the huge fortress that covers most of the cliffs that surround the gorge of the Arc while the Pont du Diable, a spindly suspension foot bridge that spans the chasm, makes it look even more threateningly deep.
At Lanslebourg (1399m), where the Col du Mont Cenis (2083m) heads south to Torino, we turned north up the Col du Madeleine (1746m), a short steep bump on Rt D902 to the high valley of the Arc. Here the rain that had pounded us below gradually let up. This beautiful nearly flat valley, with side valleys to the east that expose views of glacier covered peaks, ends at Bonneval sur Arc (1783m). It was after six o'clock and the climb would take about two hours with a one hour descent to reasonable overnight lodging, so we stopped here rather than attempt a wet and possibly snowy climb.
We took pictures at the Iseran summit (2770m) where we sat on the large concrete and stone road sign that looks a bit weathered, especially through the snow that was heavier now. The weather seemed to think we had had enough of a good thing and began snowing hard as we put away the cameras and headed down to Val d'Isere (1840m) where there were fewer tourists than I have seen in a long time. Rolling right through town, we climbed the little bump to the first of the series of tunnels down to the Lac du Chevril (2000m) dam, after which the descent becomes steep, finally leveling out before Seez (920m), at the junction of Rt D902 and Rt N90 to the Col du Petit St Bernard (2188m) and Aosta. We ate lunch in Seez with good wine and cheese in a restaurant that I had discovered a few years ago. It serves lunch mostly to truck drivers and has its menu on a blackboard on the wall.
We rode down to Bourg St Maurice (840m), where we turned north up the road to the Cormet de Roselend (1968m) on Rt D217. On the climb we had a trace of rain that faded out as we passed Les Chapieux (1552m) where it seemed that the Col de la Seigne (2516m) off to the east beneath Mont Blanc was probably fairly dry. Looking for adventure, we turned around and rolled down to the little store in the Pack station in Les Chapieux for a little sustenance and headed up the one lane road that climbs to the end of the valley. We turned south crossing the creek to the trail that heads up the Seigne and began hiking.
In spite of its steepness, the trail was wet and mucky in places because a large party with burros had gone up that morning, their tracks and ski pole marks being fresh. As we waded through the small streams that were raging with fresh snowmelt, I thought how unpleasant crossing these rushing ice water obstacles must have been for the hikers who got their leather boots and wool socks soaked. For us it just washed the mud off our legs and cleaned our bike shoes. At the rate we were working, the ice water was pleasant.
The trail passed a stone-hut pack station that seemed to be operating, judging from smoke from its chimney and hand lettered advertising signs. Farther up we passed a small electric fence corral with about eight or ten burros busily munching the lush grass. We headed up the mountain in a light rain and fog, so we couldn't make out where the top was or where the trail continued above. In any case, as the rain turned to snow and I noticed we had a long way to climb, I recalled that the summit was closer to 2630m than the 2360m I had assumed.
As we got higher we met with deeper snow where we had to stay on the compacted track to avoid sinking in. As we carried our bikes up the steeper parts, we saw three hikers ahead who were well equipped with parkas, back packs, and ski poles. At the same time two burrows with empty pack frames appeared out of the swirling snow ahead, stopping first at the hikers and then coming down to us while giving us the once-over. After sniffing around a bit, the first donkey turned to the other and in anthropomorphic manner said "these jerks don't have any food, let's get the hell out of here" and with great disdain detoured around us sinking deep in the snow. We trudged by the hikers who casually greeted us with "bonjour" as we vanished up the slope into the falling snow that had become dense enough to make following the track difficult.
The snow let up at the summit, at about 2560m, enough to expose the French-Italian border pillar and orientation plate at the pass (2516m) below. There was no sign that anyone had taken that route because there was a snow cornice in the gap that made it inadvisable to cross there. Our trail broke into a high and low track, that traversed the hip of the pass in thin snow, on the way down toward Rifugio Elisabetta (2035m), where we reached a ridable but rocky trail again. It seems this was the hikers destination and that the burros had been unpacked without feeding. A kick in the ass, so to speak, sent them back alone to where they knew they could find food.
The jeep trail to the hut was still covered with snow with a narrow edge where we could ride until we got to the flatlands below the huge glacial debris that lies at the foot of Monte Bianco. The road was in miserable shape, being covered in land slide debris or completely pushed aside by slides. The road got better as we reached civilization in the Val Veni, but to make up for that it was plastered with "bicycling prohibited" signs to prevent city folk from driving up there, putting their children on bicycles and sending them down the 16% grade. We descended to La Saxe (1223m) and rode up the equally steep opposite side into the Val Ferret to Planpincieux (1579m) where we found a comfortable hotel in which we were the only guests except a contingent of police who came in for dinner. It rained all night.
In Martigny we changed Francs (F) into Francs (CH), and headed up the valley toward Sion and Brig, a flat 82km away on Rt N9. We caught the usual favorable wind of the Rhone valley under cloudy skies and practically no traffic. We rode through Sion (512m) to stop in Sierre (533m) for a grocery store lunch and again at a fruit stand where we munched a large basket of bing cherries that were probably from Washington State USA, as I discovered later when I saw them in the original box at a grocery store. Heavy spring hailstorms ruined most of the cherry crop in the Alps this year. The valley becomes narrower at Visp as we approached Brig (648m) where we rode through the center of town and the castle to head up the Simplon. At Brig-Ried signs indicate that bicycles are not allowed on the new highway, but this has never made sense to me so we rode on as usual. The climb went well without rain or snow, or for that matter any perceptible traffic. Although the clouds were dark, the air was clear and gave us panoramas down the Rhone valley and across into the Aletsch glacier. After the long curved tunnel at Schallberg we passed a rifle range whose axis paralleled the road. Approaching from the target end of the range we heard the crack of passing supersonic bullets, followed by the dull report of the rifle. At the Simplon summit (2005m) a wall of fog hung directly over the top so we took photos of the scene toward Brig, bought a candy bar and some post cards and headed down the Divera river toward Italy. Surprise, the fog was just a dense rain cloud with heavy rain all the way to Varzo (532m) where we stopped for the night.
From Locarno (207m) we stayed on the north side of the valley, passing Bellinzona and Arbedo, to head up the Valle Mesolcina to Mesocco (790m) where I remembered that my old high school friend, Dick Arner's son Kurt, lived in Soazza (pop. 300) and that I should give him a call. I found his number and called his house where his wife Corrine suggested I call him at work in Bellinzona and blam, we were invited to their lovely place in the village of Soazza (558m). We used the abandoned RhB rail line (rails to trails) coasting from the Mesocco train station to the Soazza train station. Here his daughter Rendel, on her MTB, hustled us up some steep streets to their place. We enjoyed the evening with the family, ate heartily, exchanged stories and anecdotes, and got a good night's rest.
The rain didn't let up much, as though the roads needed washing, as we crossed the Splugen summit (2113m) in the clouds. Monte Spluga, the grey town above the hydro lake, was grey wet and shut down, waiting for rays of sunshine to open the umbrellas over the outdoor restaurant tables. We could hardly see the lake as we rode around it to the dam, with its bombastic Mussolini style facade. The long avalanche sheds of the descent kept us out of the rain, but to make up for that, the spectacular scenery and hairpin turns, stacked in the granite wall, were obscured, as was the view of the villages on the opposite wall.
We got a snack in Chiavenna, toured the old town, and headed up the road toward St Moritz. The border at Castasegna was still a narrow one way street controlled by traffic lights. We rode up the valley past the great scenic locations of Soglio that grace so many Swiss calendars but saw nothing of it through the clouds. We stopped at the great hotel Bregalia that has never been remodeled and serves its customers in three meter high rooms with 19th century furniture and fittings. The hotel was closed from the start of WWII until about 1970. There's plenty of place to park a bicycle among the carriages in the reception hall. The geese and ducks out front greet the Postal bus that makes its stop at the post office in the annex. The birds didn't seem to mind the rain and squawked as geese do.
This is a broad high valley whose upper end has four large lakes, the Silser, Silvaplana, Chamfer and Moritzer lakes. They also have Romanish names that are hard to pronounce. We cruised down the hill through St Moritz and on to Pontresina, where after riding up the main drag, we made a food stop at the Coop market at the high end of town. As we headed up the Bernina, we ran into headwinds after the forest above the Montebello curve where we had stopped for a photo of a passing train and the dark and cloudy Morteratsch glacier. The headwind and light drizzle made us put on jackets as we approached the Bernina (2328m) summit where we took photos before descending. Below in the Val Poschiavo the road was dry from Poschiavo (1014m) onward, past La Prese and Miralago on Lago di Poschiavo (962m). From the lake it was a swift descent to Brusio (780m) and Hotel Bettoni for lunch. With the wet weather, there was hardly any traffic even in July.
As a little sun peered out, Mrs Beti served us a great meal on the outdoor deck with a big ice cream desert to keep us going in the event the sun stayed out. We rolled on past the circular viaduct of the RhB railway to Campocologno at the Italian border and turned right in Madonna di Tirano to Stazzona (396m), where a shortcut to the Aprica pass takes off. The cool air was pleasant for the climb, where even in Aprica (1176m) the usual crowds of fresh air seeking tourists were absent. The run down to `Edolo (675m) was smoother than ever, the road getting bigger and better with every ski season. As we climbed toward Ponte di Legno along the Oglio, we passed the Mortirolo pass at Monno (868m), that I sampled last year and found wanting in all departments except steepness. The rain started again before Temu' (1144m) and Silvano Macculotti's hotel, the Veduta dell' Adamello. As at other hotels this year, we were the only guests, so we ate with the family and got to bed early.
Passo Gavia e chiuso!In the old days they placed a barrier across the road, requiring cars to drive around it to risk the trip. One sign stated that tire chains were required on board from September to mid July. Luck had it that we were, but for one day, almost safe.
Tracciato Tortuoso e StrettoSo it's a tortuous and narrow road with little protection from going over the side. The roadway may be covered with snow and chains are obligatory all but six weeks of the year. On top of that there is another sign with a "fill in the blanks" avalanche road closure.
Privo di protezioni Marginate
Possibile Piano Viabile Ghiacciato
SS n300 del Passo Gavia
dal Km 13+000 al Km 37+000
Dal 1 Settembre al 15 Luglio
Obbligo di Catena a Bordo
Chiuso al Transito Dal Km____ al Km ____The rain fizzled out as we climbed higher and we even got rainbows in the gorge below. Meanwhile, it got colder. We kept our rain gear on to keep warm as we got to the now closed cliff section, where rock-fall has made passage more difficult every year since the tunnel was built. The tunnel had not been plowed, leaving a large snow drifts reaching deep into each tunnel portal with just enough room for a car to squeeze by. We took pictures under the cliff and walked our bikes back up to the road over much debris as it started to snow.
Pericolo di Valanghe
At the summit, we checked to see that my poster of the cliff passage was in good shape as we each downed a large hot chocolate. As I stood in front of the fire place with steaming clothes, John called that I should look out front at the weather. The road on which we had just arrived was buried under a two inch blanket of snow that was getting thicker rapidly. This was no place to get stuck for a couple of days, so we took off in a hurry. The snow was so fluffy that traction was OK in spite of its depth.
At the end of the long summit valley we descended to Santa Caterina where the snow turned to a light drizzle as we hurried down to Bormio (1225m) for a hot lunch. After lunch we were still cold and after assessing the snow on the hills around town, we looked up the hotel St Ignazio, hidden in the center of the old town on an alley barely wide enough for a car. I have stayed here on various occasions and always found a good menu and comfort. We made this short day our rest day for this year's tour, staying warm and taking it easy, as it rained.
We visited the Braulio distillery, that in the past had just been a factory, but now was renovated to have a tasting room and museum. I found that Braulio, a herbal liqueur, named after the Val Braulio that leads up to the Stelvio, tastes better hot than cold, and that the snazzy lady that served us made us feel well served. We took a few promotional post cards of Bormio and returned to the hotel for a great dinner a good night's rest.
From above the serpentines of the Val Braulio, I took pictures of the road with a solid line of motos going in opposite directions as they gained altitude. The canyon would have reverberated with the roar, but the weather was doing its part with a wind that muffled their exhaust. From the high valley it was cold enough to require a jacket as snow began to blow around but not stick to the road.
From the Swiss border at the Umbrail summit (2498m) up the last 3.2km to the top, 262m higher, the flow of motos became denser and finally came to a halt. I elbowed my way through the crowd on the last 200m to the summit without having to dismount and rode over the top, stopping at the railing in front of the abyss that drops about 1000m almost straight down under the towering Ortler (3905m). The snow flurries didn't expose much scenery except straight down. We took some photos of the bottomless "hole", bought a supply of the famous postcard that shows the endless stack of hairpins, and headed down the 48 turns to Prato (913m).
From Prato we rode to Spondinig (885m) where we crossed the now defunct FS (Italian Federal Railway) rail line to Malles and headed down the Adige [Etsch] river with a great tail wind blowing us down the Val Venosta to Merano (302m), where we ate lunch in mild sunshine. The wind was too good to waste and the mountains to the north too wet, so we headed off to Bolzano (262m). We came into town by the back way and gave the city center a passing appraisal before going past the train station and up the Isarco [Eisack] valley to Cardano where we turned east into the Eggental Rt N241 toward the Costalunga pass.
The Eggenbach flows from a wall of rock behind Cardano that seems to defy penetration, such that the road is cut into the vertical dark red stone above the river, diving through tunnels where the river has cut a crooked gorge. The road climbs with a 16% grade, receiving little sunshine even at high noon. The gorge gradually opened to grassy valleys and forested uplands as we gained altitude. As we got higher, we got glimpses of the Dolomites as we approached Welschenofen (1182m). We rode past the Hotel Diana, with a mural of Diana the huntress with bow and arrow, where we stopped last year.
At the beautiful Lago di Carezza with its deep blue-green waters we could see to the bottom while the myriad spires of the Latemar (2842m) reflected on the glassy surface. It didn't quite have the post card appeal under grey skies. We rode past the meadows below the Rosengarten (2981m), that also looked a bit grey today, and past the grand Hotel Carezza just below the junction of the Nigerjoch Pass (part of which is the 24% road to Tiers). The top of the Costalunga (1745m) was only a couple of hairpins up, before we rolled down the long gradual descent to Vigo di Fassa (1400m) and on to Fassa di Pre, on Rt N48 along the Torrente Avisio. We found an old comfortable hotel, the Albergo Rizzi and settled in for the night.
The clouds got darker as we rode around the south side of the lake, and I wondered whether my high speed descent would get botched by rain and wind. Alas, only intermittent drops fell as my max speed record also fell, recording a speed that newscasters would have you believe occurs regularly in the TdF and on far gentler slopes. This is a 13% descent, perfectly straight into Ciapela (1450m) and smooth enough to reach terminal velocity. It was a gas.
The ride down the dark gulch below Ciapela along the Pettorina to Caprile (1014m) was also pleasantly swift. At Caprile we headed toward the Falzarego pass. In the canyon above Caprile, the beginnings of a thin shelled concrete dam have stood idle since 1963, after the dam disaster not far away in Longarone. I recall when this project was still alive on my early bike tours. As we got higher, we saw heavy rain farther up and that looked like snow beyond that, judging from the temperature here.
After assessing the weather for about ten seconds, we turned a hard right up the Colle Santa Lucia (1443m), a small bump of a "telegraph" almost vertically above Caprile on Rt N251. From here we descended to Selva di Cadore (1335m) at the base of the Passo di Giau (2233m), stopping at the grocery store for a bite before heading up the valley of the Torrente Fiorentina. The valley does not reveal the Forcla Staulanza (1773m) that finds a passage through the mountains in the shadow of towering Monte Pelmo (3168m) just about straight overhead. Over the Staulanza, we rolled down the Rio Conedo past Forno and Sommariva (810m) below which a large thin shell dam blocks the valley leaving the road to find room in tunnels along the wall. This dam has a permanent relief bore at 2/3 height that prevents it from filling any higher, another monument to Longarone 1963.
We rolled into Longarone (472m) from the south end of town and crossed the Fiume Pieve to climb the wall in tunnels that lead to the notorious dam whose waters destroyed the town, killing everyone who was there. This tall narrow dam, not more than 50 meters across, is wedged in a crevasse that once held back a vast lake. The mountain to the south had a huge soft overburden over a steeply sloped and smooth stone sublayer. As the foot of this mountain was softened by the lake and rain lubricated the sublayer, geologists warned the hydro power ENEL that the mountain would slide. Nothing was done to drain the lake and when the mountain came down it displaced all the water, sending a cutting torch like jet of water into Longarone that lies directly opposite the crevasse. The town was leveled even though the dam sustained no damage.
Today a mountain stands where a lake once was, and rises more than 100m above the dam, more than the lake was deep. We rode over the mountain, past Erto, over the Passo San Osvaldo (827m), and down to Barcis, a town on a beautiful azure lake of the same name. The clear waters of this region flow over riverbeds of white dolomite stone that, unless there are rapids, make the water invisible until it becomes deep enough to make the riverbed green. This is the second day that we rode with prevailing tailwinds and rain that never quite reached us although occasionally a few drops appeared on the dry road.
From Barcis, a road heads down a ravine so narrow that the sky is obscured, and when I last rode there, about eight or ten years ago, I noted that a tremendously expensive new road and tunnel were being built to circumvent this scenic marvel, out here in the middle of nowhere. As we rounded the end of the lake, we took the old road, passing a "closed to through traffic" sign. As we rode into the darkness of the ravine, we encountered a sign warning of a road junction. Now the junction, that we had formerly taken, had a barricade and was apparently impassable. We had planned to go straight anyway, so we continued through the gorge to a large hydro electric plant where most of the river was funneled into an aqueduct of which our road became the roof.
We rode on the aqueduct for several kilometers to where the valley became broader, and where the new road from Barcis emerged from a tunnel, that according to the map is more than 5km long. Our road climbed to join the new road from which a huge dam project became visible. This was the beginning of a curved concrete wall for which a gigantic batch plant for concrete had been built. The project was obviously moribund. I suspect ENEL went ahead with the road and dam construction without adequate geological research that probably stopped the project when research was completed. We have seen so many incomplete, never to be finished, private and government construction projects in Italy, that we have named them "Italian jobs". This one is a classic.
We rode on to Travisio and Gemona di Friuli (268m) on the Tragliamento river, where we found a trailer camp with rooms. Actually the "rooms" were trailers whose tires had sunk into the landscape, having traveled nowhere in years. There was room in the trailer for our bikes so we didn't have to worry about parking. In the warm and pleasant summer evening, we rode to a restaurant where we dined admirably with good wine and a desert of fine local cheeses and fruit. The next morning at the first light, at about four in the morning, some of our camping neighbors arose to face east and repeat their Hare Krishna mantras a few hundred times before returning to their beds.
After a great lunch in a local Gostlinga we headed south, passing the noted Slap Boca waterfall, following the Soca river to Tolmin (200m) where the barracks, training areas, and rifle range were vacant and overgrown. This had always been a town with much military action. Now the military was gone and the town and its stores, like most that we visited, had lost the drab appearance, looking just like prosperous western Europe.
From Tolmin we headed east into the Skofjelosko mountains up the Boca river to Podbrdo (510m) where the RR tunnels through the mountain to Bohinjiska Bistrica (512m). We took the road over the top to the other side going over the Petrovo Brdo pass (804m) and on over a higher ridge at (1230m) at an unnamed pass. From here we rode down the Sav Bohinjka river valley to Bled (504m) on beautiful Blejsko lake in clear weather and on roads that are smooth and wide beyond expectations. Our hotel on the lake was old and comfortable, and served a great dinner.
We continued to Podkoren (816m) where the Wuerzen Pass (1073m) crosses the Karavanka mountains in true Austrian style, with 18% grades. Fortunately these sections were short on the south side, but on the north, one section is practically a km long ending in a hairpin turn. where a steep runaway ramp continues straight up into the forest. When the road straightened, I took advantage of the empty road to test my speedometer again.
We rolled into Villach (508m) where we sampled ice cream from various street vendors and decided that the standard scoop size didn't compare favorably with a chocolate covered Magnum (aka Haagen Dasz bar in the USA). We headed up the Drau river while OBB (Austrian RR) rail line climbed the north wall to Mallnitz (1183m) where it enters the Tauern tunnel. At Moellbruecke (557m) we turned up the Moelltal to Winklern (958m) where we joined the main road from Lienz to the Gross Glockner. The wind, if any was with us as we rode up the narrow end of the Moelltal toward Heiligenblut (1301m) at the base of the Glockner toll road. We stopped at the open-everyday-all-year grocery store at the junction of the main street and the highway to stock up on landjaeger and chocolates, our energy bar supplements. We found a nice 'pension' about a km below town.
It was a quick roll from the American Bisons in the park to Bruck (757m) on the Salzach river and over to Zell am See where we ate lunch with two designers from Porsche Design (the boss was out of town). We headed up the Pinzgau valley to Mittersill and Wald (867m) at the foot of the old Gerlos pass as clouds closed in behind us and threatened with rain. As we arrived in Wald, I recognized Jim Brug, a member of my department at HPL standing across from the grocery store with daughter on arm. I casually road up and said "Hi Jim" as if we do this every day. He was on a camping trip with wife and children. Being were eager to get up the hill to hotel Grubl before the impending rain, we discussed the state of the world briefly said hello to Sara and rushed off.
We rode up the old and steep one-lane Gerlos road arriving at Hotel Grubl just as the rain started, and it poured. The lady who was hotel sitting told us everyone was out bringing in the grass, because the sun was out today. Thus we were fairly sure that everyone would be in, soon, and sure enough, putt putt putt, they arrived on their tractor, soaked to the skin but enthusiastic on having gotten most of the grass for their goats into the barn. After Mrs Kaiser did a quick change into her hotel persona, she made us some crepes with "rote Gruetze" (raspberry sauce). As the rain tapered off, we said goodbye hoping to come again as overnight guests next year, as we pushed off up the 500m of 17% grade that starts right there.
As we got higher, we saw the end of the Pinzgau valley at Krimml, still lying in the shadow of the mountains, with its huge waterfall erupting from the cliffs above town. The top of the old Gerlos pass (1486m) is as unspectacular as the subsequent view, high over the new Gerlos lake is spectacular, reflecting the magnificent peaks to the south, (on a clear day). The sky was not clear and was trying hard to make us wet as we descended past the huge earth fill dam and on through Gerlos (1245m) a glitzy vacation town. It looked as though we would finish the day without getting doused, but alas, at Hainzenberg (905m), a few km above Zell on the Ziller (575m), the sky opened up and did not relent until late that night, long after we had found food and lodging, and were resting peacefully in Aschau (570m).
We passed the Oetztal (Timmelsjoch, Pso Rombo) over the high bridges that cross the Ache river at the mouth of the Oetztal and the Inn, from which there is a two kilometer climb before descending toward Imst. after the descent, we took the shortcut toward Landeck that avoids climbing again to Imst, a road that I discovered a few years ago, by taking the turnoff to the bahnhof and river rafting set-in. Here a bicycle path parallels the river on the most direct and level route toward Landeck (816m). In Landeck we headed west on Rt N1 toward the Arlberg pass, turning off at Pians (859m) to head up the Silveretta road to the Bielerhoehe (2021m).
This road, that has grown to a highway, Rt N188 was a seldom traveled unpaved road the first years I rode over it, but skiing has brought large volumes of traffic and expensive hotels to the region. This is an easy climb, all but the last two kilometers where 16% pitches rise to the top of the dam at the summit. The view of the Silveretta and Piz Buin (3312m) were in the clouds and the maid of the mist boat was docked in the mist. We rolled down to the "hole" where the road dives down the curved wall in a series of spectacular hairpins to Partenen (1027m) after which the Montafon valley slopes more gradually toward Bludenz (535m), 46km away. We stopped in Gortipol because we liked the look of the hotel and because it began raining.
Swiss money in hand, we rode off through Vaduz, Balsers and over the Rhine to Sargans (482m), where we ate lunch at a grocery store before cutting over to Mels, where a bike path along the Seez Kanal leads straight to Walenstadt (426m) on the Walensee. The lake, with its cliffs rising to the Kurfirsten, was as beautiful as ever, even with the thunderclouds that obscured part of the view. We rode along the lake where, just before Muehlehorn, a road cuts off over the Karenzerberg (743m), a small pass over the corner of the mountain to Mollis (448m) in canton Glarus.
From Mollis a small road and bicycle path heads up the valley to Glarus (475m), after which traffic on Rt N17 to Linthal (662m) at the end of the Linth valley is light. The Glarner Alps were their usual, as the peaks vanished in the high clouds, making them appear taller than they are. The highest peak, the Toedi (3614m), framed by the walls of the valley in a canton with almost no flatland, was barely visible in the clouds, high above the other mountains. The mix of thunder clouds and sunshine made this an exceptionally beautiful day.
In Linthal (645m), at the end of the valley, the Klausen pass starts its climb as it heads into the cliffs through a long well lit tunnel. John took the old tunnels that are still passable, although wet and unlit. Above, the road traverses the steep slope eight times as it climbs long traverses through a hardwood forest. The road breaks into the Urner Boden at 1300m, a long 500m wide valley with near vertical walls on three sides. The road follows a straight course up the valley to Spitelrueti (1400m) where the main climb to the top heads into the rocky walls at the end of the Urner Boden.
Here, the road passes free falling waterfalls and private dairy cableways, whose single span cables vanish from sight before they reach ledges several hundred meters above on the canyon walls. At the Klausen pass summit (1948m), the Toedi comes back into view high above as the Schaechental opens 700m below in Aesch (1234m), giving a vertical view of farm buildings. Here the free falling Steubi fall crashes to the valley floor after cascading form the Toedi glaciers.
The road, cut into the granite wall, was in excellent condition, but just the same we took it carefully because there is no functional guard rail between us and a huge free-fall. After we got off the "wall" we blasted down to Hotel Urigen (1300m) where various Harley Davidson riders, among other guests had stopped. Steffan Truschner, the owner, his wife Karin, and one year old daughter Joel greeted us. We took the usual room, with bath down the hall, in the beautiful annex with carved wooden beams that are colorfully decorated with painted verses. As last year, we savored a Coup Romanoff (ice cream sundae with fresh sugared strawberries topped with plenty whipped cream) after a hearty dinner.
After a small climb out of Unterschaechen, the rest was downhill to Altdorf (458m) where we headed up the Reuss valley to Erstfeld (472m). Here, at the end of the marshaling yard, the railway begins its climb to the 16km Gotthard tunnel with a 2.7% grade. A little farther up, we started our climb at Amsteg where the road abruptly begins climbing at the huge SBB (federal railway) power plant, whose size was tripled by new turbines and penstocks, entirely underground in the granite walls behind the old plant.
From here, in the narrow canyon, the rock walls are penetrated by railway, motorway and highway tunnels and bridges over the roaring Reuss below. Nearly all traffic uses the parallel motorway so we had a nearly private road to Wassen (916m) at the junction with the Susten road. As we passed Gurtnellen, the elegant Cisalpino tilting train came down the hill as it leaned into the curves to make walking down the aisle simple even in fast curves. In Wassen, Rt N20 the Susten road, heads north into bare rock tunnels right from the town center.
Today was exceptionally beautiful weather with a brilliantly clear sky, punctuated with white puffy clouds as we rode up the glacier highway of Switzerland with its many great ice flows and snowy peaks. This climb can also be a little defeating, because farther up, nearly the entire continuous grade up the long curved valley becomes visible. In spite of its good alignment, it is neither steep enough nor smooth enough to make great speed on the descent, but that's the story for most alpine passes. Just before entering the summit tunnel, an even steeper trace of the ancient road can be seen zig zagging its way up over the old summit that is higher than the tunnel of new road.
Passing through the Susten summit tunnel (2224m) exposes a panorama of the Sustenhorn (3503m) and its huge Steingletcher that spreads ice to the valley far below the road. The ride down the Gadmental is exciting and beautiful, with broad curved tunnels opening vistas to ice fields and waterfalls that go over some of the short tunnels. The peaks of the Berner Oberland became visible as we broke out into the Haslital and dropped to Inertkirchen (625m). We sprinted up the four legs of the Kirchet (700m) to the Gasthaus Lammi for a hearty outdoor lunch and cool refreshing beer under the shade of an umbrella.
We rolled on down through Meiringen (595m) and checked out the Sherlock Holmes bronze in the middle of the quiet Sunday afternoon. We ducked into the trees as we started the grunt up the 13% part of the Brunig pass (1008m). Near the top we got a last look back at the big mountains before descending toward Luzern under a gathering overcast. The first plateau is at the Lungernsee (752m), and the second after the lake down to Giswil (485m) on the Sarnersee. In Horw on the military parade ground and football field, Zirkus Knie, the national circus of Switzerland, was erecting its tents for a two week run the following week. We rode on through Luzern and "home" under pleasant skies.