Off-grid Dolomites

All three of us live in the Val di Fassa, surrounded by some of the most spectacular peaks shaped by nature over millions of years: the Marmolada, the Sella, the Sassolungo and the Catinaccio. Every morning when we wake up, they are there in front of us, greeting our day. We know that we are truly privileged!
Today, however, no snow nor ropes. The medium to appreciate a piece of this daily wonder of ours will be the bicycle. It won’t be easy to write something about the Dolomites and their infinite possibilities — between mountain biking and road cycling — that has not already been experienced and described in words or images. The risk of repeating oneself and falling into banality is very high. Everyone has seen a Giro d’Italia Dolomite stage at least once in their life, and everyone reading this article has already heard of Sellaronda Hero or Enduro World Series Fassa. There doesn’t seem to be much more to learn or explore around here in terms of two-wheeled experiences. And yet, there is.
There is still a small world of which little or nothing is known. Its secrets are jealously guarded by a circle of enthusiasts who venture out on secondary tracks and tributaries of forest roads.

It is the end of the season, and for us September means experiencing the mountains at our own pace, without the crowds that — for better or worse — fill the Dolomites in July and August. This year the snow has arrived early. The peaks are already white and the temperatures are close to zero degrees, even in the village.
We are familiar with the first part of the route, and know that within ten minutes the cold will no longer be a problem. We decide to set off from Pozza di Fassa and ride up the cycle path to Canazei, before tackling the first real climb with our legs already warm. A way to avoid cracking too soon, or perhaps just to delay it a bit.

The idea is to create a loop around the valley, passing through some of the most beautiful places that characterise this region of the Dolomites. We haven’t studied a route in detail, we do not know how much elevation, how much distance or how many days it will take, but we have an excellent knowledge of the area on our side. We will rely on this. Few, indeed very few things in our bags, just a couple of warm, dry garments, a handful of gels for a bit of motor power at the right time, and a sheet bag to sleep in the refuge if necessary.
It is eight o’clock in the morning and it’s still quiet all around us. Even the valley floor remains in shadow, almost at rest. What a difference, I think to myself, to the hectic pace of the high season, when by this time everyone is already operational and organised for the day. The relaxation and easy pace are short-lived, however, and in an instant we leave behind the last houses of the village in Canazei and from here on the long climb up to the Sella Pass awaits us.

I’ve already told you: with Cristian and Icio, my cycling companions, we share the same profession as guides. We see each other often, but we never have much time to talk, so we spend the first part of the ride telling each other about the summer we have just finished (mostly out of breath). Remembering amusing anecdotes and unlikely situations distracts us a little from the fatigue of the hills that literally take our breath away.
We are almost at the edge of the forest, in the locality of Pian de Schiavaneis — several route possibilities open up for us here. We decide to put our noses to the grindstone on a path that connects with the forestry road, which climbs from Val Salei and will take us directly to the Rifugio Carlo Valentini in the Passo Sella area. I remember walking along it years ago accompanying a group on a winter hike. Today, none of us know for sure whether it will be possible by bike. But we really like this one. We started out with the idea of discovering paths and forest roads that we know only from having walked or ridden by mountain bike. Or even those that we don’t know at all.
Just five minutes of pushing along a steep and exposed path — a beautiful stretch of single track — and we are on the forest trail. Perfect! Our idea of a gravel track is certainly much broader than the standard one, and at times it borders on cross-country mountain biking.

On our left we have the Sassolungo with its enormous vertical walls, separating the Val di Fassa from the Val Gardena. It’s a sharp contract to the meadows lower down. With their gentle forest roads, they’re perfect for recovering from the 900 metres of altitude gain we’ve just accomplished.
Once more we’re within sight of home, at the entrance to the classic alpine valley of Val Duron. Surrounded by mountains, pastures and cows — with a stream running through the middle. Everything is absolutely perfect, but the vibrations and large stones under our wheels remind us that it is perhaps best to pay attention to the road. If you want to contemplate the view, you’d better stop.
Cristian and myself are relaxing. We are convinced that by now the exertions of the day are over, but Icio is not of the same opinion. In the end we allow ourselves to be convinced by his proposal not to head straight for the valley, but to stay halfway up the mountain in the shadow of the Catinaccio, as far away from the asphalt as possible. The nosedive above the village of Fontanazzo, along a trail that is very technical in places, puts a strain on our arms and legs. Already exhausted from our efforts, we make a unanimous decision to stop and sleep in the valley.

We set off again — today the goal is to arrive at Passo Lusia to sleep in a refuge with friends, not forgetting the inevitable changes of plan lying in wait. It will be a long one anyway, we’ll see. We pedal towards Gardeccia along what was the final climb of a Giro d’Italia stage in 2011. Out of sheer curiosity, as we enjoy a cappuccino in the mountain hut, we look at the segment times of the first finishers that day. Impossible for us even on e-bikes. An entirely different sport!

Surrounding us are the vertical towers and rock faces that make the Catinaccio world-famous, and this is where we spend many days climbing with our students during the summer. Here we have little room for imaginative variations, but the environment is so beautiful that it’s a pleasure to climb while absorbing the landscape around us. However, we manage to find a cut in the descent along a landslide, which forces us to push and shoulder our bikes for a while. Now, I tell the others, we just have to find a nice little path and then we can go to sleep with a quiet heart!
We loop around Lake Carezza, one of the most photographed places in the Alps. It is a true marvel, especially in the afternoon, when the Latemar peaks are reflected in its turquoise waters. We too allow ourselves an enchanted glance and then off we go, towards the paths leading to the Costalunga Pass. I remember riding them on a full suspension bike with 160 millimetres of travel. The difference in tackling them on a gravel bike, with the added weight of the bags, makes itself felt. But at the end of the trail, after playing our joker card numerous times, all three of us have big smiles on our faces.

The real ordeal comes on the last climb of the day. From the valley floor, just above Moena, we start climbing again in the direction of Lusia, with ramps reaching 20%. Our legs are suffering from the very few kilometres cycled during the climbing season. Despite the help of various gels, arriving at the refuge is a real test of strength.
With very little energy left, the last sprint is to meet Herman, our friend the mountain hut keeper. He’s been expecting us, and so the table is laid. Plates of cold cuts and cheeses of all kinds, washed down with excellent craft beer. And, as if by magic, fatigue disappears and our legs no longer ache. What a wonderful Trentino welcome! We end the day in front of a magical sunset over the Pale di San Martino. Then off to our rooms. Our legs are no longer responding to the commands, and it isn’t clear if it’s because of the kilometres covered or the beers.

Last day. Three degrees below zero. None of us seem to be in a hurry to leave, and we extend our breakfast until the first rays of sunshine warm the air a little. Today we set off on a gentle descent until we arrive in the Paneveggio Natural Park. The signs of the 2018 Vaia storm are still clearly visible. Entire slopes were razed to the ground, while other portions of the forest with centuries-old trees withstood the devastating power of nature. It is one of the most spectacular forests in the Alps, and crossing it by bike is an almost spiritual experience (particularly when you enter the Sottosassa canyon). No single track or any extreme stuff, but the environment is very different from what we have seen so far.

In the landscape, the Dolomite rock has given way to the porphyry of the Lagorai. All around us are red walls contrasted only by a beautiful stream, the Travignolo, with crystal-clear waters. The tarmac allows us to proceed swiftly and in a short time we are in Predazzo, the last town in Val di Fiemme. It is curious how quickly our brains get used to comfort. We unanimously decide to continue in the direction of Moena along the cycle path, which is perfectly asphalted and smooth; it will allow us to save energy for the last part of the tour, which we want to conclude by passing above the village of Pozza until we reach the famous Val San Nicolò.
The pedalling is no longer as smooth or as powerful as on the first day, but we know that the end of the climb is near. La Strada dei Russi, built by prisoners during the First World War, is deserted. The mind begins to wander, perhaps to feel less fatigue.
I think and wonder aloud how a person who is experiencing the Dolomites for the first time might feel. We who live here and see the mountains every day continue to marvel, take pictures and stop to admire the perfection of these peaks. Well, for those who are encountering them for the first time, the sight must really make the heart ache!

The last part of the climb is the perfect conclusion to the day; never too steep, and with no rocky trail bed. If it was all like this, the tour would not be in our style, but every now and then it is welcome. We stop at the hut beside the waterfall, just in time to quench our thirst with an elderberry syrup. Then we prepare for the descent back to civilisation and the end of our route.
We knew we would enjoy it, and that you don’t always need to visit exotic, unknown places to be happy. We cycled around our home for three days — toiled, joked, drank and discovered something new. We will never grow tired of this valley, or of our passion for adventure!