A Guide to riding the Italian Dolomites.... and not getting mugged!

Unaccustomed as I am to a quiet life the last eight days in Italy have been to say the least rather dramatic, here is a snapshot of how it went.

About three years ago Ste Pritchard from Matrix 247 had a chance meeting with local cycling hero Craig Battersby who runs the Team Chronomaster Cycling Team. The result was a collaboration which saw middle aged men in Lycra (Mamils) training with elite riders to take on extreme cycling challenges, ultimately raising money to help disadvantaged kids in our town at the incredible Bolton Lads & Girls Club. The first trip saw us take on the French Alps in what we thought was the pinnacle of tough climbing and long days in the saddle, fast forward 2 years and it’s the end of June 2017 & the plane touches down in Verona airport...

Our bikes had been packed into a van one week earlier and here we are in the airport car park trying to remember how to put them back together, you could tell who the good cyclist were instantly because they had purchased stronger Lycra and their bellies didn’t show through, they also had their bikes fixed up in a jiffy whilst we flapped around cross threading anything we could and fixing punctures that perhaps should have been sorted back in Blighty. A couple of hours later we all set off in convoy, it’s a short & flat 49 miles to the top of Lake Garda but it’s absolutely scorchio and within no time we have a split team with mechanical issues & heat exhaustion. The signs are ominous but eventually we regroup and as we approach our destination the pace is looking decent until we hit an unlit tunnel that bends to the left, the pace plummets and all you can hear is expletives as bikes veer off in all directions as we fail to remove our overpriced Oakley’s! Disaster is averted when Neil Higgins roars “Hold the Line” and remarkably everybody does just that, a good man to have around in a dark place I thought, perhaps a distant relative of General Custer even.

That evening we get a briefing from team Captain Craig, he’s used to dealing with cycling’s elite and is now being bombarded with questions that is stretching his patience, do we need to take rain capes tomorrow in the thunder storm was a particular favourite. We go to bed suitably informed and rain capes are retrieved from cases in preparation for Day Two.

When you head off into the mountains nobody can hear you scream because the thunder echoes off all the surrounding hills in deafening booms. It was a proper thunder storm and after only a few miles we find the two girls taking shelter from the lightning, they run out and say it’s too dangerous....... quick as a flash I retort “it’s ok we’re on carbon bikes” and zoom off into the hills, I then spend the next few hours reflecting on my response and ensuring my feet don’t touch the ground. It’s meant to be one of the easier days with 75 miles and 15,000ft of climb but the drenching made it extra hard and it’s still more than half the height of Everest. At one point a local fire crew stopped the traffic as they were frantically trying to divert the standing water & debris off the road surface, it looked a bit pointless as they were making no progress but we waited patiently until given the all clear to proceed, by this point Brandon was itching to get going so he set off at the same time as a waiting 4x4 SUV, we just sat there and waited, 5 seconds later a brown sludge waterfall completely enveloped him and his “cheap” Italian thoroughbred bike.....shit happens I guess.

The weather eventually abated and all the riders rolled in to the impressive ski chalet that was our home for the night. A hearty meal, a couple of beers and off to bed in preparation for Day Three which was billed as a killer and for some reason no team briefing tonight!

0730 and we’re in the saddle as today we have 129 miles and an eye watering 22,000ft of climb that sees us taking on the Passo Gavia, the Stelvio and the Molten. The first two are iconic Giro De Italia mountain passes and they certainly lived up to their reputation, the Gavia was quiet but brutal the Stelvio was brutal but chaotic with every touring motorcycle and supercar owner on the planet having a rip up & down. I remember as a kid watching the Cannonball Run and these idiots were overtaking each other on hairpin bends, a few of our bunch got run off the road but luckily nobody was seriously hurt. The top of the Stelvio was like a carnival town, the cyclists all looked a bit battle weary but happy and the motorbike and car drivers were swigging beer and stuffing their faces with hot dogs, not sure who got it right!

Descending was epic, we had a 50 mile stretch that took us off the mountain range and most of it was on a dedicated cycle path that even had its own switchbacks. This worked wonders on our average speed which hitherto had been in single figures but just as we got used to it we rolled into Merano the most northern town on our trip and very close to the Austrian border. We had a choice; take the short flat route to Borzano or carry on up the final pass of the day and do the full route; we foolishly chose the latter and suffered for the next few hours with a very tough grind over the Passo Molten. Colin B had a very close scrape with a tractor and a Fiat and his emergency escape tactic saw his legs spinning like Billy Whizz, I succumbed to one of those nervous laughing fits that are highly inappropriate but you can’t help yourself! We eventually limped in with the other full routers in the nick of time before they cleared away the food for the night, one beer later and it’s off to bed.

Day Four was a doddle in comparison but still took in 9,300ft of climb but only 36 miles which basically meant there was no downhill. It was great little ride with spectacular views and ended up in the skiing resort of Canazei. On arrival we consumed masses of pizza and a few beers but everyone was fairly cautious knowing that Day Five was another 112 miler and 20,000ft of climb!

Day Five started good, well refreshed we did a 30 mile loop around the Sella Ronda which was simply spectacular. It reminded us of the Canadian Rockies with its rugged peaks and was well worth the effort to get up there but when we headed off to the next part of the journey the weather turned and the thunder storms returned. Going up the mountain passes (we had eight that day) wasn’t so bad but coming down was freezing. Riders were dropping like flies, jumping in the van, busses and taxis to get back, we were fortunate in that we sheltered at the top of one pass and met the van so we could put extra layers on, this allowed us to limp back and arrived to a round of applause from our peers. After dinner we had a briefing to discuss some options for tomorrow’s route; a spectacular set of 14+ switchbacks that meant going on a gravel track or a simpler main road and a 14km tunnel, unanimously we opted for the gravel track......

Day Six, eighty miles and 15,000ft of climbing sounded simple enough but fairly quickly we found that the gravel track was more rock & boulders than gravel which tested our carbon road bikes (& knees) to the limit. It took in the short but spectacular climb of the Tornanti and its umpteen switchbacks, I went for it full beans and ended up with a bonkers 16th fastest time ever recorded up the beast. This was later dashed when Carl from Team Chronomaster downloaded a slightly faster time but hey 17th fastest time ever will still do for me. The rest of the ride was difficult on testing terrain but my disc pads by now had worn down to the metal so I needed an opportunity to replace before we took on the infamous Zoncolan. Our hotel was at the foot of the Zoncolan so with some help from John & Kris I attempted to replace the brakes and made a complete hash of the final stage. The boys  did all the technical bit and all I needed to do was insert a pin and test them...... three hours later I’m leaving a not so local bike shop with a fully serviceable bike, 80Euros lighter and way too late to attempt the Zoncolan. The guys that did manage to ascend it got the applause that night and well deserved, it’s an absolute monster and will stay on my “to do list” for the time being.

Day Seven was the last of the hard days and my rock & wingman, Colin was suffering with Delli Belly (turned out to be muscle strain) so opted to do a slightly less hilly route. Brandon stepped up and together we pushed up and over all the passes in short order, I was getting stronger as the week went on and started racing (relative term) up the hills, I even managed a second fastest time of the day on one pass beaten only by Captain Craig albeit by quite a few minutes and I was feeling on top form. In a previous blog I wrote of the mental pressures that are faced in any endurance events and how working with my mentor Joe O’Connor had paid dividends. I was feeling invincible, able to shut out the cold and pain focussing only on the positives of the challenge. I had become very self focussed which really helped but the flip side was I had also become more selfish. Reflecting on this at the end of the ride really hurt as I had abandoned my wingman over the last couple of days in pursuit of faster times and glory. The trick looking forward is to factor this dilemma into the plan, I guess an honest conversation with your running mate is needed and the old adage, treat others like you would expect to be treated by them would give you a line to follow. I feel a future blog on this very subject is needed. 

Day Eight – The Longest Day.... This entailed a couple of small passes and then a down/flat sprint into Venice which was a wonderful ride conducted at a fair old pace. We met up with the Chronomaster boys and were averaging 28mph for a good part of the distance but still had time to savour some of the best ice cream on the planet. The last few miles cycling into Venice was such a treat and pay back a plenty for all the hard work over the previous days, months and years of training we had put in. As we packed away our bikes & headed off to our hotel it was time to enjoy the beautiful city of Venice. All was going great; we had drinks by the Rialto Bridge, an amazing meal organised by Jeff and then back to a bar near the hotel for last orders. A perfect end to a perfect week except three of us decided we needed one more beer and strayed further away from the hotel than sober common sense should allow. Long story short was I went for a pee and was either pushed or fell (probably the latter) down a muddy bank into a fast flowing river, winded on the way down I was clinging on to a tree route trying to get my breath thinking this was it. Eventually I got a grip, sobered up and scrambled out of the river looking like I’d been in a war zone. I remember thinking crap experience but funny tale only to find that whilst I’d been for my swim my buddy had been mugged at knife point and was not best pleased I’d taken so long to come back from my leak!

No time to give my apologies before the thugs returned and after a short scuffle I too was wallet less and had even more cuts & bruises than I had prior to my dip.Those that have been to Venice know it’s not the easiest of places to navigate but eventually we got back looking a bit sorry for ourselves, bust ribs & elbow with a variety of cuts and bleeding feet but absolute relief to find the safety of your mates. The trip home was a sombre one as you try to process the events, Venice is super safe if you proceed with common sense, unfortunately we picked the wrong night to throw one on and paid the price, I won’t do that bit again but would never let such an incident define the most amazing eight days of cycling I have ever experienced.

The aim was to raise money for Bolton Lads & Girls Club, if you have a few coppers to spare here’s my just giving page and thanks for listening.

https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/mark-brocklehurst6