Dolomites - Part III

The final big day and it was due to be an epic one at that. Williams had done his best to scare everyone to death the night before telling us how brutal the planned Maratona route would be. By the time everyone was eating breakfast it was clear that only a few of us were really keen for the Passo Giau followed by the Sellaronda loop from the day before.

We had early breakfast and the outriders (slowest of the group, including me) aimed to leave at 8am. I'd been struggling the day before with my chain jumping and, despite some tweaking the night before, had not managed to resolve the problem. We set off towards Corvara and up the Compolongo for the first time that day. The chain jumping was incessant. Every third pedal turn. By the time I got to Corvara I was not only swearing a lot but had made the decision that I needed to find a bike mechanic before getting so far into the ride that mechanical failure would require assistance from an Italian taxi driver. 5km's in after Beard told me he couldn't sort the problem (disappointing) I turned around, heading back for Alta Badia. Everyone had gone past me now, even those that had started later and my chances of completing a ride that day, let alone the Maratona route, were looking bleak.

Cyling back into town and it dawned on me that it was a Sunday. Everywhere was closed, including the bike shop. The original plan was to just hire a bike for the day. Not an option. Back to the hotel and, slightly teary, they called round all the local mechanics they knew. Everyone was either in bed or had gone to church. In the end the chef, who had already shown some interest in our bikes, had a look at it and, with the help of his Dad, set about replacing the link in my (brand new) chain that had ceased up. Legend. I didn't care that my food that evening might taste a bit oily as a result.

Soon I was back on the road, heading towards Corvara again. Second realisation of the morning was that, whilst I had an idea where I was going, I didn't know the exact route. Up the Compolongo by 10.30am and the bike was purring. Unfortunately I was too far behind the rest of them to even consider the Maratona route so I headed for the Giau. Unfortunately I hadn't fully twigged that we had planned a relatively flat route to the bottom of this climb and, instead, opted to climb the Falzarego not realising that this should have come after the Giau....

Not to worry of course. It was a beautiful cycle and the climb wasn't too bad - a gentle 6-7% gradient most of the way. It also meant I'd put an extra climb in for the day which was good for the training.

I followed a couple of other lone cyclists up the final throws of the climb as it became quite Mallorcan-esque (Wiggo eat your heart out).

Little did I know that the boys had pretty much reached the top of the Giau by this point and, having descended from the top of Falzarego following signs for the Giau I realised the error of my ways as I took a right turn, heading south, signposted 'Passo Giau'. I should not have been approaching it from this direction.

Team Blue with Doug at the top of the Giau. L-R Will, Pughy, Gibson, Beard (looking mildly happier having actually got out of bed today), Pat and Doug. I met Pat and Jonny as I was coming out of the bushes having relieved myself at the bottom of the Giau. Pat kindly got his map out and showed me the error of my ways. 'Oh well' I said, I was still going to get up the Giau one way or the other and there's something quite satisfying about going back down the same side you've just made the effort to come up.

Looking back down the valley in the direction that I am coming from. I was grappling with some 15% sections whilst this photo was being taken of the boys sunbathing in the lunchtime heat. L-R Doug, Pat, Will, Pugh, Gibson, Beard, Jonny.



My view from the road as I'm ascending up the Passo Giau. Stunning.

Pughy trying to get rid of his tan lines and attracting some male admirers while he's at it. Note his promotion to the Liquigas team who were training on the same climbs as us the day before - it was quite staggering how fast their team car was having to go to keep up with their riders on the descents.

Will and Pughy on the fateful decent from the Passo Giau. All confidence and bravado about 3 minutes before I followed in their tyre marks and found Pughy in a heap on the side of the road with some very bent handlebars. Thankfully there was some verge at the point he went off the road. Any other corner and there could have been a nasty drop on the other side of the barrier.

Only a couple of minutes later and who should we find licking his wounds but Will. Having just overtaken a couple of Italian motorcyclists (which perhaps gives an indication of the speed he was travelling at) he had the embarassment of skidding off his bike on the next hairpin right in front of them. Luckily they managed to avoid running him over and the injuries were only superficial 'road burn'. His new cycling shorts were looking a bit worse for wear and there were some loud whimpers when he got in the shower that evening.

The final pass of the day, Passo Valparola. This was our 'warm up' on the first day from the other side, so it was good to come over it from the Falzarego side this time. It was a final bleak push up from the Falzarego with our German friend who was sporting both an old skool bike and incredible blond mullet. It was at this point that I was secretly glad of my mechanical failure earlier that morning as the prospect of another loop of the Sellaronda wasn't pretty.

In his full Team Gun Show regalia, WJD is seen here watering the verge.

Pughy going a little slower on his descent from the Valparola

In close pursuit with the mountains surrounding Alta Badia in the background.

War wounds being admired back at base camp.

The whole team enjoying a beer on the penultimate day with JK and Pat having completed the full Maratona route in a little over 10 hours. Good effort gentlemen. L-R Jonny, Mark, Flynn, Gibson, Me, Will, Beard, Pughy, Pat.

Punishment beyond that experienced in the mountain. The look of enjoyment on Mark's face is similar.

Tweedledum and Tweedledee a couple of beverages down. Off to lick their wounds.





And onto the final day of R&R. Temperatures were now up to 32C so we enjoyed the sun and went for a walk up what looked like a red run, finding this beautiful chapel in someone's back garden on the way. WJD admitted that walking up mountains was almost as challenging as cycling up them. He managed about an hour and was not carrying a tent. Not built for hiking then.

A rather more relaxing bus journey back to Verona airport and, whilst Gibson bought his ticket for the June (rather than July) return flight home, we took advantage of the weighing-in facilities. It was a close run contest between Mark and Flynn and I can categorically confirm that we'd been eating too much as few of us had lost any weight!

Dolomites 2012 - The End