Final hurrah: Austrian Alps via Grossgluckner [Italy > Innsbruck; 8/16-8/19 - 241mi, +15,973ft]

Had a lengthy morning descent through the valley exiting the Dolomites this morning, then an hour or so sipping a coffee while waiting for some rain to subside before setting off north to the Austrian border.... which is conveniently located at the top of Passo Stalle (2052M.)

on the approach to Passo Stalle

So this was a new one: the last 3mi to the top of the pass was literally a one lane road. Autos only have a 15 minute window to enter this section from either direction (ie. here at the bottom from :30 to :45; at the top from :00 to :15.) And for good reason- this section is a relentless 11% grade, with the only 'flat' sections being the apexes of the switchbacks. Tough work, but it had to be done.

The crest of the pass is the border between Italy and Austria, and there is an abandoned army barracks that I suppose was once used to keep an eye on those pesky Italians. Not a bad place to be stationed, though:

And with little fanfare, I was officially into Austria:

Wilkommen!

The next morning I was treated to a 34mi gentle descent into Lienz, losing almost 4500ft along the way. After Lienz was a 'quick' climb up to the Iselsbergpass (1204M) and along the way I was surprised to be passed by a few racers and their support wagons from the Race Around Austria (RAA.) I talked to a few of the crew members, who told me it's 2300km and 30,000M of climbing in 4-5 days. And no more than 90min of sleep per night for their guy!

I asked if he was tired. With a shrug, "eh..." It was a dumb question.

Back down into another valley for a long meandering approach to the heavy artillery: The Grossgluckner Hochalpinestrasse. The Grossgluckner itself is the highest peak in Austria (12,461ft) and this route runs just to the east of it, topping out at 2540M- the most scenic road in all of Austria, so they say. I will not argue- it's amazing.

I got about 2/3rds of the way up the steep section before it got dark. Camped (w/ questionable legality as this is a national park) on a little perch above the road, I was a little startled when I heard voices & music and saw slow moving headlights below. Eventually the late night revelers came into view- another Race Around Austria guy slowly grinding his way up the pass.

Terrific scenery from above treeline, and more lucky cows:

There's sort of two summits with a little dip between them- from the northern crest there is a great view of a string of glaciers (for the time being, anyway.)

Grossgluckner Hochalpinestrasse

I soaked it in for quite a while... this would be my last time on a truly high alpine pass for this trip. There have been some many amazing days riding up high, so many amazing vistas, so many slow ascents at 3-6mph, and so many gravity fueled burners back down.

Up and down, with nice views. I guess that sums it up.

And it was a ripper coming down- several times I caught up to auto congestion and had to pull over to let the long line of cars get far enough ahead that I could open it up. I was not about to ride the brakes down my last 12% winding grades!

Then it was a long, hot afternoon traverse through the quaint Krimml Valley and past Europe's tallest waterfall. It was dusk at this point so I couldn't pause to hike around, although the new-agey brochures promised great healing effects from the ionized mist near the falls. Instead, I healed myself by climbing Gerlospass (1640M) as darkness fell and camped next to a parking area just below the summit. Cooking dinner with the lights of the Krimml Valley villages below and the twinkling stars above was fantastic. And then another RAA racer came by well after dark- I appeared out of the shadows and gave him a cheer, he gave me a wave and "Danke shon!" I wondered if he was confused by all this, or if he thought it was a hallucination.

The next day lost almost 3500ft off the Gerlospass and through the lovely Tirol Valley into Innsbruck, the so-called "Capital of the Alps." It's a really cool historic city and I got a cheap (34euro) private room in a guesthouse that was built in the year 1425! Nearly 600 years of lodgers, staggering to think about. This was my first private room of the entire trip- what a luxury to lay around in my birthday suit watching The Simpsons overdubbed in German. I had not showered since I left Florence 13 days ago and I felt like a cowboy coming in off the dusty trail; and it took 2 showers to get clean....

And boy did I give that sink a workout with all my rank clothes....

The Queen Stage of the Dolomites [Passos Pordoi, Sella and Gardena; 8/15 - 55mi, +5810ft]

There is a central massive uplift in the middle of the Dolomites known as the Sella Gruppe and a road runs a ring around it with four major passes, each just as spectacular as the last. Luckily you never drop all the way down into the valley so it's possible to ride the whole ring in a day. I did 3/4ths of it today and it was, quite literally, perhaps the single most awe inspiring day of cycling in my entire life!

After a nice early morning descent from my camping shack last night I tackled the Passo Pordoi at 2239M on the south side of the Sella Gruppe first. Simply amazing.

A partial drop down and then right back up again to the Passo Sella at 2240M. Words and photos cannot begin to describe the feeling of being surround by such immense vertical peaks climbing into the sky!

Possibly the best coffee view ever at the top of Passo Sella:

Another partial descent, and back up again to my final crest of the day at Passo Gardena (2121M.)

Passo Gardena at 2121M

Today was just so far beyond words that it's not worth even trying! Enough said.

Into the soul of the Dolomites [Passo Tre Croce & Passo Falzarego; 8/14 - 58mi, +5971ft]

After winding my way up and down a roundabout zig-zag through the southern Dolomites, today I'm beginning my approach to the centerpiece of this amazing range. A gentle climb up the valley out of the town of Dobbiaco hints at the amazing spectacles to come:

First on the agenda today is the Passo Tre Croce at 1809M. The Cloud Goddess smiled upon me and lifted the ceiling above the high peaks just to make my day all the better. I couldn't have asked for more perfect conditions.

I hadn't necessarily planned on also clearing the top of Passo Falzarego (2105M) today, but on the long climb up I was failing to spot a decent place to camp for the night. There are really just two criteria: being out of sight of the road/houses, and flat enough to sleep on. When the weather doesn't threaten rain and the bugs aren't bad, I just sleep under the stars in my sleeping bag, so I don't need much space. But the terrain was so jagged and rugged that it was proving tough, and eventually I was at the top of the passo. Dusk was a great time to be there anyway- no crowds, no traffic, nice and chilly. And it's always nice to wake up to a descent rather than a climb!

Passo Falzarego at 2105M

So I started down the backside, still intent on finding a campsite for the night as near the top as possible- since it's no fun to ruin a descent by slowing down to look for potential sleeping spots....

....cuz they just don't build roads like this in the US:

Only a mile or so off the summit, I stopped to poke around a little meadow that looked promising. There wasn't much level ground, but there was this perfect, empty, unused hay shed a ways off the road. Found my spot!

Into the heart of the Dolomites: Passos Cereda, S. Antonio, Duran, Cibiana, del Zovo, and Kruetzberpass; 8/12-8/13 - 97mi, +12,681ft]

A series of one passo after another these past two days... each one just as steep and grueling as the last. And each descent just a scary fast and super fun. The low clouds are still mucking up most of my good photo ops, as well as frustrating my greedy eyes eager to take in the soaring peaks. But you can't have it your way every time, so I catch glimpses when I can and appreciate being in the mountains all the same. And every now and then I go down a really steep winding hill really really fast.

Lots of cool villages perched up in the high terrain too. This area has pretty much turned into Austria with regards to the architecture, language and people. I need to give myself a history lesson to be sure but I think this actually was part of Austria prior to the first World War. I stand corrected if I'm wrong (which wouldn't surprise me one bit- rigorous research is not my forte.)

I have no idea what this sign says, but I love it!

I forgot to mention the amazing coffee in Italy... the best ever, and usually pretty cheap (one euro or so.) The most brilliant idea I've ever seen is the way they serve an Americano (espresso plus hot water.) In the US the barista mixes the two themselves, and you're at their mercy for the proportions. In Italy, they serve you an espresso and a tiny pitcher of hot water. Brilliant!

Despite my groans about the clouds, I'm not without some really swell vistas on occasion:

happy boy in the mountains

To the edge of the Dolomites [Lago di Garda > Trento > Passo Brocon; 8/09-8/11, 144mi]

In the evening after the train to Verona, I headed west towards the big alpine lake of Lago di Garda. Turns out this is a huge tourism spot and I pedaled the 40mi of shoreline north amongst heavy, slow traffic and past a continuous line of hotels and "camping villages" (like French campgrounds but worse.) The lake was pretty, though, and offered me a nice shower and laundry opportunity. By shower I mean going for a swim, and by laundry I mean that I wore my clothes while swimming.

Lago di Garda

I headed northeast through Riverto and Trento after the lake before beginning my next mountain stages in earnest. There've been some storms brewing about in the mountains, along with low clouds that are unfortunately obscuring the views of the high rocky peaks that the Dolomites offer. Luckily I managed to be in the right places at the right times when the rains came: once under a covered walkway in a little town during a torrential 20min downpour and later under a covered bus stop halfway up a hillside. But the next morning I was above some pretty fog lurking down in the valley below:

As I would soon discover, the climbs in the Dolomites are seriously steep! 10%-12% sustained grades are common, with kickers at 15% here and there. On one of my descents I sped through a section that was literally 22% and it made my stomach drop like when you're on a good roller coaster.

welcome to the Dolomites!

After some up and down in the foothills, I summitted my first real climb, the Passo Brocon at 1615M. It wasn't high enough elevation to gain the treeline and the lingering low clouds killed the good views, but the descent was manic. Roads here are only a lane and a half wide for miles on end, so it's no trouble to speed faster than the autos as you wind back down the the valley floor. Super fun indeed!

There are even more motorcyclists here than in the French Alps. Here's a pic just for Dad (this guy was showing off for his buddies near the top of the Brocon.)

I decided the summit of my first big pass was a good time to replace my brake pads with the spare sets I've been carrying around for 2 months. And I guess it was time:

Cheers to descending!

Back in the saddle, for a bit anyway [Florence > Bolgna > Verona; 8/07-8/08, 109mi]

Before I left Florence and began the trek back towards the mountains, it was time to rotate the tires on my bike. The rear wears much faster than the front- instead of buying a new tire I just swapped them and should be all set for the remainder of this trip. Unfortunately before I'd even gotten a half mile away from the hostel, the valve stem on the front tube blew out. I finally had my first flat tire of this trip! I can't believe that I've gone this long without a single puncture.... knocking on wood as I type.

I passed by the train station on my way out of town, and this wise old man was sure tempted to duck inside and take the easy way again... it was hot, the terrain ahead was not "mountainous" per se but at least they're big hills. After a bit of internal debate, the "This is a bike trip, not a train hopping adventure, you lazy-ass" angel won and I got on the road instead of the rails aiming for Bologna.

And it was good to be back in the saddle and warming up my climbing legs again. The terrain was pretty enough, too, and very reminiscent of the Anderson Valley region in Northern California that I spent a summer in with Jess years ago. And most importantly, the temps dropped to a livable level once out in the open air of the hills.

There were two named passes along the route up and over the hills to Bologna, although neither especially notable. Unlike France where I inadvertently began following the Route des Grandes Alpes, here I ended up on the Via del Latte- literally "the milk road," that passed by a bunch of different small scale dairies in the hills. And that, to me, sums up the difference mountains and hills in a nutshell. The Dolomites await!

I rolled into Bologna in the early afternoon and took a spin through the unique architecture to the city center.

Bologna

In the central piazzo is the public library and one of the really cool things about this city: beneath the main atrium is a nicely preserved excavation site of ancient Roman ruins with catwalks that allow you to walk above it all. There's many layers of history here- literally spans from the 1st century BC to the 16th century AD. How they know all this is a mystery to me, even more of a mystery is thinking about all the building that's gone on over the course of thousands of years here.

After looking at the topo maps the other day and realizing that the ~75mi north of Bologna is completely flat I'd planned to train it up to Verona and Lago di Garda, where geology takes a more interesting turn. I imagine that to some people this logic may seem backwards (taking trains when it's flat, riding when it's tough mountains) but I was happy to grab a seat on the train to watch the cornfields fly past at 70mph instead of 15. The poor couple seated next to me was not as happy, since I smelled really bad from biking for 2 days in the heat and not getting a shower as I'd camped in the woods again. At least it was only an hour and half.

I had 2 hours to kill before my train left and I tried really hard to find a restaurant to treat myself to some namesake "tortellini Bolognese" but to my dismay every single proper kitchen was closed for the the afternoon siesta. So sadly I settled for some marginal prosciutto pizza from a walk-up and proceeded to the train station with my odor in tow.

Becoming a Renaissance man [Flornence; 8/05-8/07]

Two days in Rome is hardly enough to see everything, but I'd made good use of my time and was jonesing to keep moving along. It's been crazy hot here- nearly 100 degrees even in the shade, and the mountains of northern Italy are calling me. First, though, I wanted to stop in Florence as I'd been told it's a "can't miss" city. Now that I'm getting lazy and civilized (ah-hem... "wise") I didn't even bother to ride any further than the half mile from my hostel back to the train station. 20euros and 4 hours later I was in central Florence- saving me 2-3 hot days sweating through the meandering hills of Tuscany. I'm quite OK with this.

An impressive city indeed, Florence is. Endless narrow streets packed with shops and the tourists that give them life, the whole place had an incredible old world vibe.

I'd found a nifty hostel to stay at for two nights, and unlike most hostels that are more of a dormitory style layout, this one was simply an old 2nd floor apartment flat with beds crammed into each of the old rooms and still had the kitchen open for the guests to use. Right around the corner I discovered a huge stage installation where Roberto Benigni would be performing that night. At first I was completely thrilled; later I realized that I was confusing him (the actor/director/poet) with fellow Italian Andrea Bocelli (the famous tenor singer.) So no Bellagio fountain theme song serenading through the streets. Sadly.

I did a lot of wandering on foot through the center and outskirts of the city, sweating the entire time. In true Italian fashion, there are some amazing old bikes parked around town. Brands that are now associated with high-end, ungodly expensive racing machines were once your average townie transportation.... or maybe this is what 'race bikes' used to be like?

the nicest Colnago that I've ever seen!

When in Rome... [8/03-8/05]

When you go to Rome, part of what you do is walk around and take photos just like every other tourist.

And there is no shortage of tourists this time of year. They seem to outnumber the locals by a wide margin:

Of course very famous for its art & sculpture, this was one of the more absurd pieces I encountered. It appears to be a naked man wrestling with an octopus.... go figure.

Although I certainly appreciate the historical aspects of world famous art and architecture, I perhaps was a little more drawn to the seedier and contemporary installations. This entire block near the university neighborhood displayed some amazing graffiti art.

I put myself up in a fun youth hostel for 2 nights to be conveniently in the city center and had a lot of fun hanging out with fellow American travelers there. I was obsessed with getting some good pizza as well, and although I was told you have to go to Naples to get the best pizza, I took a stroll into the university district and found a busy blue collar pizza joint to get my pie on. It was the traditional Italian crispy crust style and quite satisfactory. The sidewalk setting was bustling with wandering troubadours and a drunk Bangladeshi yelling threats and insults at the waiters and patrons. I was half expecting a Godfather style ending to this disruption, but luckily for the drunk guy he was escorted away in a polite but stern fashion after he'd made enough of a scene.

Maybe Rome is losing its edge. After all, my old man waiter typed my order into an iPhone....

Tuscany for better or worse [Livorno > Grosetto; 8/01-8/03, 114mi]

4 hours on the sea were quite nice- I'm not sure what it is about being on a boat but I love it, even though I've never been much of a beach/water guy. This trip lacked the pleasant company of the French girl from the first ferry, but you can't have everything.

docking in Livorno, Italy

I had a really good feeling about Italy as soon as I rode through the city center of Livorno. As my camping buddies in Porto promised, the Italians seemed friendlier and more inclined to speak some English than their French counterparts. People on old beater townie bikes everywhere and in general a nice feeling in the air. Of all the countries I'd planned to visit, I think I've been most excited for Italy although I'm not sure exactly why. I've always admired their design and fashion sensibilities and of course their food.

I followed the coast south where Tuscany meets the sea. It didn't take long to find some impressive, and perfectly placed, artwork:

I got a little spoiled by the beaches of Corsica, I suppose, as here on the mainland it is quite packed with people and not nearly as inviting.

As the route trended inland, things began to remind me of the "boring Burgundy" region south of Paris: substitute heat for rain, it's more or less the same with rolling hills, vineyards, scraggly olive orchards and little towns. In the past month I haven't become a wine connoisseur or wealthy enough to splurge on regional artisan dinners, so my interest was waning quickly.

After all my nights at bizarre and annoying campgrounds in France and Corsica, I'd made a pledge to try my hardest to find free places to camp along my way in Italy. As I'd hoped, there is more open space around here and it hasn't been hard to duck out sight for the night. This was a particularly peculiar spot- underneath an old masonry train overpass in hobo fashion. The sounds of the occasional passing passenger trains was unique and pleasant, unlike that of rambunctious kids on playgrounds, upset babies and their temper tantrums and the occasional television set.

I'd learned a few things from my Burgundy experience, one being that there's no reason to spend boring days in the saddle when there's a good network of passenger trains that will save me a lot of time and tedium. The next morning I rode the last 12mi into the city of Grosseto and bought a ticket fort the next train into Rome. Smart move for a variety of reasons: saved a day and half of hot, repetitive countryside as well as the congestion of Rome's sprawling metro area. By early afternoon I was dropped off right in the center of Rome; a wise decision had been made.