Sea peaks

From Forte dei Marmi, Versilia’s picturesque hub, towering peaks rise up to greet you. Whether you’re strolling along the pier, lounging on the beach, or soaking up the sun at the Bagno Angelo, the Apuan Alps sheer walls are an unforgettable sight. Some faces are rough and weathered; others sharp and jagged, while others still are smooth and flat. And then there are the marble quarries, visible as white streaks across the mountainside, creating a striking contrast. No wonder they’re called Alps – their structure and design are unmistakably alpine. We were looking for a route that would do justice to Versilia’s unique charm: one that would link the coast to the mountains and bring out the best of this stunning region. The Vestito pass from Massa was a no-brainer to include, with its 19 K climb, before making our way back into the heart of Alta Versilia, around Stazzema

The initial stretch to San Carlo Terme is a pleasant ride, but things get more interesting as you hit the stepped road that winds through the villages of Pairana, Altagnana, and Antona. The climb continues up to 1,150 metres, with the final eight kilometres leaving an indelible mark. Not due to it’s difficulty, but because the views are simply stunning. You feel like you’re on top of the world, with the sea on one side and the lush green pastures and alpine peaks on the other.

The Apuan Alps have a distinctly alpine feel, which can be both awe-inspiring and intimidating, but they also evoke a sense of adventure and epic rides. The road is wide and the gradients aren’t excessive, although the three kilometres from Pian della Fioba to the tunnel are a different story, with an average gradient of 8%. After reaching the top, we descend into Arni and Castelnuovo di Garfagnana, before tackling the second climb of 17 kilometres, this time into the Apennines and towards Emilia Romagna. It’s a different landscape, but one that adds to the richness and beauty of this incredible place.

The climb up to Chiozza di Castiglione della Garfagnana, at 925 metres above sea level, is manageable, but things get tough when you aim to reach the 1,568 metres of the GPM. “It’s a challenge against a sacred monster, a challenge against yourself,” Daniele remarks, when the climb isn’t yet so brutal that you’re gasping for air.

Beyond Chiozza, a new world unfolds: the Tuscan-Emilian Apennines, where rugged peaks give way to gentler slopes and less dramatic vistas. However, the road itself is scary – it’s a concrete ribbon that snakes upwards, getting steeper with each kilometre. Despite an average gradient of 8%, some sections in the final kilometres exceed 20%, with one spot reaching nearly 30%. It’s like a knife to the legs, a slush, a gunshot.

Yet, you never tire of riding it, even when you’re hunched over the handlebars, shifting your shoulders to help push forward, every metre feeling like a blow with an uncertain outcome. You don’t get tired of dreaming, of savouring the feeling of being finished that only cycling can give. I glance over at Daniele, who looks fresher than I do, thanks to his youth and his training. I’d love to share the thoughts racing through my mind and heart, but there’s no time for words now. I catch my breath as I enter the outskirts of San Pellegrino, although there’s still over a kilometre to go before reaching the Radici pass, a crossroad of two regions and three provinces. In the distance, I can see the Valle Po, which represents another part of me. But I don’t look over there; I don’t seek the horizon, because it reminds me of a different kind of fatigue, sometimes less rewarding.

The mountains are the ultimate testing ground for cyclists, but now it’s time for the third act: conquering the sea. We tackle the ups and downs, the heat and humidity, until we reach the cool respite above 1,000 metres. This epic ride covers over 150 kilometres and 3,500 metres of climbing. “I’m never tired, even when the climbs start to take their toll,” I manage to say before we tackle the Formica pass, which takes us back from Garfagnana to Versilia. This is one of the few climbs I’ve never done before, but I’m told it’s manageable if I pace myself and avoid sudden surges. The next ten kilometres take us deeper into the woods, which grow thicker and denser. 

To make it even more interesting, we add a couple of kilometres to our route, all the way to the Careggine ski resort, where we find a ski lift. “This is the part I love the most – this hairpin turn surrounded by rocks that first obscure the view and then unveil another stunning vista of the Apuan Alps,” Daniele remarks, near the Fonte Azzurrina. The climb culminates at the Cipollaio tunnel, after which it’s a dozen kilometres or so to Forte dei Marmi.

From the iconic Versilia coastline, our go-to spot, the routes are as varied as the scenery. After yesterday’s gruelling ride through the Apuan and Apennine mountains, we’re opting for a shorter, more leisurely route today. The seafront promenade in Forte dei Marmi is a dream to ride along, with its wide path, charming beachside establishments, and the Apuan Alps looming in the distance. We’re trading the Versilia coast for the eastern Ligurian Riviera, looking to unwind our legs, take a breather, and soak up some new scenery.

Our plan is to ride to Lerici and climb up to Monte Marcello from La Serra, a 60 K loop. The climb out of Romito Magra starts off gently, but gets tougher with a steep 500 metre final push. I’m always amazed at how quickly the landscape can shift here – one minute you’re in the mountains; next you’re surrounded by Mediterranean scrub and crystal-clear waters. As we climb, the Gulf of Poets stretches out before us, with the islands of Palmaria, Tino, and Tinetto dotting the horizon, and the Cinque Terre peeking out in the distance. The sea sparkles in the sunlight, and the air is filled with the scent of Mediterranean herbs. When you feel that rush of emotion, it’s not just happiness – it’s a sign that you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.

Day three is a shorter ride, just 50 kilometres, but it’s no cakewalk. Ten of those kilometres are uphill, taking us to a peak of 700 metres in the Apuan Alps. The 7.5% average gradient feels like a lot more – the climb is relentless, with steep sections that make it hard to find a rhythm. And then there’s the brutal 13% kick at Monteggiori. The woods provide welcome shade as we climb from La Culla to Sant’Anna di Stazzema. It’s a sweltering day, and my legs are screaming after the steep garage ramps of San Pellegrino. The last two kilometres are a rollercoaster ride, with the road pitching up and down. Sweat is stinging my eyes, and I can barely see. Never give up – it’s the cycling mantra. But my mind starts to wander to the sun loungers at the Bagno Angelo, where we relaxed a few hours ago.

And then I think about the atrocities that took place here, just a few decades ago: 560 people were brutally killed by the Nazis. Suddenly, fatigue doesn’t seem so bad. In fact, it’s almost an insult to those victims to even think about struggling. Cycling is about more than just the ride – it’s about exploring new places, discovering new landscapes, and reflecting on the past. Today, it’s also a form of prayer as we pedal through the Parco Nazionale della Pace to the Shrine. We’ll never tire of loving these lands, which multiply into a staggering variety. We’ll never tire of cycling.