Kristin thought that she was good to ride today, and so we rolled out of Velden towards Slovenia and Italy. First up was a trip by Faak em See and Egg am See. No lies, Dr. Seuss wasn’t involved that I know of. Look at the photos. Then we arrived at the foot of the first climb, only to see a pair of fellow riders going back the way we had just ridden.
Word was that the first climb of the day was brutally steep and the tour guides were advising riders to go the shorter easier route into Italy and skip the venture into Slovenia. Kristin decided that as much as she wanted to attempt the ride, she would be wiser and take the shorter route into Italy and find a climb or something near the hotel of the night. Because of my “performance” on the Prebl climb I was given the option to ride and decided to give it a go.
Let’s just say, I was wondering what the hell I was doing going up that road into a country that I never had thought I would be in, let alone remembered that it was one of the former Soviet Bloc territories. The first few hundred meters were gentle and not bad, as I rode past a gentleman from England (I think based on the accent of his response) on a touring bike loaded for bear. I quipped, “Man, this is going to hurt a bit,” as I rode by and he added, “Yes, it will be a long day today.”
As I pulled away there was an obscure sign of a car on a 45º slope and the patter of a manual transmission signaling to just go straight into 1st gear. Then there was the sign of the dreaded triangle with the grade. 18%. I rounded the next corner and all I could think was, “Holy hell, I think I’d rather do the Prebl climb again.” The grade was so consistently steep, relentless and straight for nearly a mile. I was constantly out of the saddle mashing away and I could sense that my heart rate was climbing into the top end of my limits. I couldn’t deal any longer and paused for about 30-40 seconds to let my heart rate come down before having to ride perpendicular to the slope to get going and clipped into the pedals again. I started to grind away again, realizing that my legs were not in good form for the day and that it was about to get really painful.
After another excursion into the redline, I pulled over and stepped off the bike just as the van came panting by me with Larry and Susan waving. I decided to walk for a few steps to try and get calm down the cardio attack I was having. After about 20 yards I again had to do the sideways start to get going again. Pushing down the pedals in any way I could, I finally managed to get to the top and see an old tank parked on the left side of the road. That thing might as well had fired a shell into my chest, it felt like it anyways.
After a bit of a rolling descent down to the next road junction, I found the van with one of the guides, Larry, and a rider, Reagan. They asked what I thought and my only response was, “That was stupid.”
I wanted to continue on to the second of the climbs on the “difficult route” for the day, but I wasn’t sure about finishing the rest of the loop that made up the final aspect of the long route. I decided I would climb to the Vršič Pass and decide what to do from there. It was a 10.5K climb to the top in the northwest corner of Slovenia.
The resort town at the base of the climb was very reminiscent of Copper Mountain, save for the casino and foreign language on all the signs. I was rolling with three other riders who were intent on completing the rest of the loop. We started up and it wasn’t until the first switchback that I remembered a comment from the meeting the night before that all the corners had cobblestones rather than pavement. All this time and I had wanted to ride cobble in Europe and here was my chance. In Slovenia. Makes perfect sense, right? The grades were not terrible, ranging from what now seems like an easy seven or eight then ramping up to a few sections of 12.
As the climb went on, there were kilometer markers every half kilometer. But there were also signs on every cobble corner noting the number of the section. I learned there are 24 cobble sections. Some were only 30 yards, others were maybe 150-200 yards in length. And they were plenty rough. Eventually the road between the cobble turned to what felt like cobble with marginal pothole patchwork and freeze-thaw heaving. There was a distraction from the Mad Max road though. To the left you could see sheer canyon walls jutting up into the sky as if they were teeth from a carnivore. The sky was slightly hazy, but the view was spectacular. Even when dodging a couple loose cows on the road.
As I made my way up the final straightaway to the summit of the pass, I started to see more and more peaks to the southwest just as jagged and gnarly as the few surrounding me. I noticed a couple other riders from our group among the dozens of cars, motorcycles and other visitors. I stopped at the tiny shack on the summit and grabbed a Snickers (yes, it was satisfying) and a Coke. I knew that I wanted to get back to the hotel fast now so that I could hopefully catch up with Kristin and ride a gondola up to the top of a ski resort near the hotel we would be staying for the night. I told the other few riders that I was going back the way I came up, despite the rough road and the notion that the other way was not like riding on the surface of the moon and that it was “the loop.” I blasted down the hill, trying to hold on to my fillings and other personal belongings, as the cobble was worse down than riding up it.
Once I got about half way down, the surface smoothed out save for eight or nine cobble sections, and I was able to get down to the highway back into Italy. Riding solo, I put myself on the limit and hammered away to try and get back to Camprosso as fast as possible. It was a rolling ride with stretches of great road, an amazing bike highway (the D2) and some flashbacks to the climb up into the heights of Mad Max Beyond Slovenia.
I managed to get back and walk into the room just as Kristin was finishing up a shower and we headed out to the Lussari gondola—with the help of a lift in a car by Rex. We were shuttled to the top of the peak to find amazing vistas of the northeastern edge of the Dolomites. The small village and church at the top was interesting to say the least. If only we didn’t have to get back on the gondola so early so that we could wait for some better light and maybe less aspects of the haze. We had a bit of gelato and took in the view for a bit anyway. Regardless, it was a fantastic side trip and I was able to show Kristin where I had ridden during our separate adventures of the day.
I told her that she would not have really enjoyed either of the climbs, with the steepness and then the roughness. But I think she was still pretty disappointed about not having the opportunity to get into Slovenia.
Tomorrow shouldn’t be too difficult of a ride though there are options for a seriously difficult climb if you’re feeling froggy. Which I am most certainly not. It looks like we might only have one more day of good weather though. Word is we’re going to be spending three days in an amazing hotel and area as will pouring rain and thunderstorms. Hopefully, much like those meteorologists in the US, they are paid to be wrong here in Italy as well.
Anne
September 8, 2015 — 8:36 pm
Wow!! Just catching up on your adventures. Lots of jealousy (well, except for the ambulance ride. Kristin, really??). Can’t wait for a full report when you are back in Colorado.