Alps 2008
  
 

Day 08

June 26

  
 

Today Dave and I leave Kaprun and head for Misurina, Italy and the Dolomites. The thought of more passes to run wakes me up early like a kid at Christmas anticipating the gifts to come. I've pretty well got into 'road mode' now so all that I drag into a room is what is in the old faithful yellow riverbag. It takes me very little time to pack the bag and strap it on the bike and I'm ready to roll way before breakfast is ready.

 
 
 
  The evening storm has dropped the temps a little bit, but you can feel the humidity in the air. It's cool and overcast as the clouds rise up from the valley floor - not a bad day for riding. But then there are few bad days for riding in my book anyway.  
 
 
 

As Dave comes down to finish up his packing, Mrs. Pregenzer comes out to see how things are going. I tell her -

"You've got to let me get a picture of you before we leave."

She smiles and obliges, just as she has for the few days we have been there. She lets us know that breakfast is ready whenever we are, although the 'official' time has not arrived yet. That's just the way she is - doing whatever she can to make our stay more pleasant.

  
 
 
  And my what a breakfast it is once again, with eggs cooked to perfection. Not to mention all of the delightful meats, cheeses, breads and jams that she has set before us. As we finish up, she brings us fresh watermelon and almost seems hurt that we don't eat more of it. This place goes down in book of the place to stay when in this area!  
 
 
  But, we've got to get after it, so we settle up and soon she is waving us a good-bye as we are on the road to Misurina and the passes that lay before us. On the way out there is the Burg Kaprun, an old 12th century castle overlooking the town.  
 
 
  The skies stay overcast but the rain holds off as I happily follow Dave on the route he has chosen.  
 
 
  As we approach the GrossGlockner Pass, I see a beautiful stream making it's way down the mountainside. I have always been fascinated by waterfalls and used to love to camp beside them when I was able to do serious backpacking. In the plateau regions of Tennessee, there are lots of them as the streams flow down to lower elevations across the abrupt terrain.  
 
 
  Soon we are at the entrance of the road to the GrossGlockner Pass where the fee is 18 Euros. It is only the second time we have had to pay to ride over a pass, but this one will be money well spent!  
 
 
  At 12,000+ feet, the GrossGlockner is the highest mountain in Austria and among the highest peaks in the Alps. At this altitude, my mesh gear without the liner lets me feel all of the wonderful cooling available - just a little more that I wanted. But the road up to it is certainly a real treat to ride and I have to say that so far into the trip, this is my favorite pass of all the passes we have done so far.
 
 
 
  Then just when you think you are at the top, there's a 'special' little cobblestone road that takes you up to Biker's Point, which is even higher.  
 
 
  Dave and I park a little ways back from the edge, since there's no curb or railing and it's a long way down the cliff in front of us.  
 
 
  It's an unusual feeling to be looking down on the clouds and not being in an airplane. But then we are over 2 miles up so it should come as no surprise.  
 
 
  On the way back down, there's a wonderful flag display where Old Glory flies proudly amongst the flags of various other nations.  
 
 
  And the road down is just as delightful as the road going up. I find that each side of the passes are unique since they just hung the roads on the mountain sides. So you get to do two fun routes for every pass that you traverse. One thing is for sure - if you do not like doing hairpins, the Alps will not be your cup of tea!  
 
 
  Dave leads us on up to where you can view the Pasterze Glacier, the longest glacier in Austria that runs off the mountain. There are lots of places where the marmots are supposed to be on the sides leading down to the glacier, but none are making appearances for us today.  
 

 
  On the way down the other size, we stop at this lovely waterfall for an irresistible photo-op of our two STs.  
 
 
  At this point the road turns into a long line of sweepers, which are clearly laid out before us. With little traffic, we enjoy rolling on down the mountainside.  
 
 
  There was no 'GrossGlockner' sign on the way up, so I stop at a roundabout on the way down to snag this one.  
 
 
  With this pass behind us, we head for the Plocken Pass and the Austrian/Italian border. Along the way, I am again captivated by a lone village church standing guard over the faithful in the valley below.  
 
 
  Before long, the beasts need to be fed, as this pass business tends to really suck up the fuel. We pull into a BP station in the town of Heiligenblut to do the deed and to take a break before we get to the Plocken Pass.  
 
 
  Again I am captivated by a high waterfall as we make our way to the pass. It rivals anything you would see back home, even in the Rockies or the Sierras.  
 
 
  As we climb toward the border between Austria and Italy, the valley floor spreads before us in a green panorama. It becomes hard to distinguish the mountains from the clouds as I look down the beautiful valley.  
 
 
  When we arrive at the Plocken Pass it is all but deserted. But by the look of things, it used to be a heavily manned border crossing. Today there is nobody there to even check our passports as I get a shot of the Austria and Italy border signs. The blue Italia sign is typical of the new European Union country signs that I see at the borders of participating countries.  
 
 
 

Descending down from this pass has some unique challenges. There are several hairpins that are actually located inside short tunnels, so you cannot see what is coming at you. This can cause a severe pucker if you just happen to be wide and somebody is coming up. Next Dave see an 'interesting' route call SP123 so we head for it. Before we summit, we decide to take a little lunch break since we have been making good time. No more busy than this place is (and so many more like it), I don't see how they can stay in business. But I guess they make up for it during the skiing season.

  
 
 
  I order some lovely pork cutlets in mushroom sauce, but fail miserably when I try to order water. I say 'Wasser nicht gas' but I guess my poor pronunciation does me in. I end up with carbonated water that I really don't like. So the next time I play it safe with 'Cola Light' or Diet Coke as we would know it back in the States.  
 
 
 
After the meal, I wander back to the toilets only to find this contraption. I decide that there are just some things that I'd rather not try at the moment,
 
 
 
  As it turns out, SP123 climbs up Monte Zoncolan , one of the most demanding climbs in professional road bicycle racing. It has been used several times in the Italian Giro (professional bike road races) over the years.  
 
 
  Again, the view from the top is outstanding and I just can't seem to get enough of looking out over the high places.  
 
 
 

Dave lets me take the lead down the pass, since there are not many 'options' except down. But on this ride down unbelievable hairpins, Dave radios to me

"My rear brakes just failed."

I can sense the tension in his voice so I call back to him -

"Yep, I've had that happen on my STs when I do a lot of heavy braking. They will probably come back once they get cooled off."

But it's still a challenging road with front and rear brakes working, let alone going down being 'half-braked'!

  
 
 
 

There's another pass that Dave really wants to try - Forcella Lavardet - which is an incredible set of picturesque hairpins although they are hardpacked gravel. I tell him -

"Hey, I'm a game chicken. Let's go for it. If it gets bad, we'll just turn around the way we came."

So he plugs in the route in his trusty Gravel Pursuing System and off we go.

 
 
 
  A little ways up the mountain, we get stopped by a digger coming down that tries to explain to us that this road is out. So we head out to Sauris to get to it by another route. This road is very narrow but goes through some really interesting tunnels.  
 
 
  Looking back, the view reminds me a lot of the Black Canyon of Gunnison that I visited in 2007 with BamaRider.  
 
 
  I spot this milestone for the town of Sauris and just wonder how old it really is.  
 
 
  Then we come to a really long tunnel that is dimly lighted. The old lights give the appearance that you are descending into the bowels of the earth - except you are going uphill.  
 
 
 

But after 30 miles of excellent riding to try to reach the Forcella Lavardet again, we (and another rider) are stopped cold by a gate. We have no choice but to return back down the roads that we just came up. Dave tells me -

"You would think that they would at least put up a sign at the beginning to let you know the pass was shut."

"Well Dave, I reckon there are a lot worse things that having to ride back down the way we came"

I tell him, finding it very hard to conceal my happiness of getting to ride the roads again. As Ron E., my riding buddy from Florida says

"When you ride a road in the opposite direction, it's a whole new ride."

  
 
 
  On they way down, I can't help but notice a lovely mountain lake nestled just past the rusted rooftops of an old village.  
 
 
  Once we are on the valley floor, the lake is a lot bigger that I anticipated. I can't help but think how much my wife Sharyn would enjoy being in a boat on it with a fishing pole and time on her hands.  
 
 
  As we make our way to Misurina, we manage to snag Mauria Pass on the way in. It's a lower altitude pass as passes go, but it's still a pass.  
 
 
  We just motor along through the small Italian towns knowing we are not far from our ultimate destination.  
 
 
  Finally we arrive at the city proper boundary, but the sign does not prepare me for the beauty of the area.  
 
 
  It has to be one of the most scenic places that I have ever been to. The snow tinged Dolomites stand guard in the distance over a beautiful little village nestled on the shores of a reflective lake.  
 
 
 

Dave could never get a response from the hotels that he e-mailed here, so we go around prospecting. The first place that we walk into is the place that he stayed when he was here last year. Though the door is open, there is nobody at home, or else they just don't care. Ringing the bell does nothing to stir up the spirits that inhabit this place, so we walk out. Dave tells me -

"Well, it was all right last year but they acted like they really didn't care if you stayed there or not."

"Let's try the one next door" I tell him.

"Maybe somebody will be at home over there."

So we wander into the "Hotel Sorapiss" and the rest, they say, is history. The clerk actually speaks a little English and acts like he is happy to see us. He fixes us right up and we move our bikes over and unload them. There's a few stairs to climb, but the rate is good and the rooms are nice.

  
 
 
  There's a place at one end of the lake that Dave tried to get us into before we arrived, but the accommodations were just too expensive. But they do have a great restaurant with seating right on the water's edge. Dave talks me in to trying this special meal for two which includes some venison, polenta, pasta and other assorted stuff. There's plenty of it and it is very good.  
 
 
  There's a big old dog lounging around, so I get up and take him a leftover biscuit. But evidently he is doing quite well, because he looks at me and my offering with an air of indifference and ambles off to another table to forage. So a flock of ducks floating near our table get what the dog didn't want - and at least they are thankful!  
 
 
  Near the dining area is a strange looking modified bike that's hard to tell what it was originally. I sure wouldn't want to ride around the block on that hard plastic seat.  
 
 
  We wander back after our excellent meal, checking out the various gift shops and I snag a few refrigerator magnets for my elderly friend back home in a retirement center. The way the workers know that she is okay in her apartment is when she puts a refrigerator magnet on the door. So every time I travel, I try to pick up several for her. She has become the queen of refrigerator magnets with people coming from all over her multistoried building just to see what she has out there next.  
 
 
  With the bikes put to bed, we wander back up to our rooms for a good night's sleep. John Hermann's edition of Motorcycle Journeys Through the Alps & Beyond has been sort of a primer for Dave and I on this trip and he challenges riders to see if they can do 17 Alps passes ride in one day. I drift off to sleep, relishing the fact that tomorrow Dave and I will go for it.  
 

Totals For The Day -

Countries - 2 (Austria, Italy)

Miles - 205

Passes - 4 (GrossGlockner, Plocken, Monte Zoncolan, Mauria)

Hairpins - 158