Monday, August 13, 2018
June 27th: Arnoga to Pontresina
Friday, August 10, 2018
June 26th: Berghotel Franzenshohe to Arnoga
Thursday, August 09, 2018
June 25th: Prato Allo Stelvio to Berghotel Franzenshohe
Nevertheless, we proceeded to climb the Stelvio, since I didn't actually think we would make it up to summit that day, despite a fairly early start. As we left town, I started to warm up, and could shed my arm and leg warmers. The initial parts of the Stelvio climb from the East are fairly easy.
Indeed, we soon had to put on sunscreen, since once past the initial gallery, there actually wasn't a lot of shade. In Trafoi, we passed a dirt parking lot, and we pulled into it to rest. There was a woman there, standing by her car, but she didn't look like she was in a hurry to go anywhere. "Are you going up the Mountain?" I asked, "Because if you are, maybe we can trouble you to carry our bags?" "Sure, of course! I'm waiting for my boyfriend, because he's cycling up the hill!" This was great. I gave her the name of our hotel, and told her that there were 48 numbered turns on the road, and the hotel was at the 22nd. I gave her 2 business cards, one for the hotel, and one for her in case she needed to call or text me.
"We're from the Netherlands, and we're doing this big trip in between jobs." "Wow, that sounds great! I always thought Europeans had lots of vacation..." "But yeah, we wanted an even longer one. One that would let us drive across Europe to Morroco."At this point, I had finally caught my breath and we gave her our panniers. Resuming our upward path, the bike immediately felt lighter. I decided that this meant we could easily go over the Stelvio today.
At 1800m, however, at Rocca Bianca, we saw our trail angel standing by the side of the road, looking very distressed. She waved us over to the restaurant parking lot. "I'm so very sorry. I have to give you back your bags. I tried calling you, but I had no cell signal. I am too terrified to go up the mountain any further. I will go down and wait for my boyfriend at the bottom." "Oh, no problem! You saved us 400m of vertical gain having to carry our bags!" She was very apologetic and I didn't want her to feel bad --- if you'd never driven in the mountains, Stelvio is downright scary, with tour buses making 3 point turns at every hairpin turn, and if she had a stick shift she would risk stalling out each time she had to come to a stop. In many other countries Stelvio would be a one way road or restricted to smaller vehicles, but this was Italy and the road was a "free-for-all." We took the panniers and mounted them back on the bike. We were only 400m of elevation gain from the hotel, but of course, you always immediately feel the additional 20 pounds of load on the bike, no matter how strong you are, and we were definitely not that strong. Pass Rocca Bianca, the road begins a series of switchbacks as it climbs steeply up the mountain.
We started to see the hotel, and got there at a very healthy time of 1:00pm. We stopped for lunch at the hotel, but over lunch Bowen lobbied for staying at the hotel. We'd only gone 12 miles but had climbed 4000' in that time, 3000' of which was carrying a load. With adults, I would never settle for staying at the hotel, but I reflected that Bowen at 6 years old had just spent 4 hours crawling along at 3mph. The forecast for the next day was good weather as well, and the hotel was reasonably priced. After making him eat every morsel of food he ordered for lunch to make sure he was serious about wanting to stay here, I assented to his request and booked a room.
I'd last stayed at Berghotel Franzenshohe in 2007, in inclement weather that precluded any exploration. But this time, checking in at 2:00pm meant we could go outside for a walk in the hiking trails behind the hotel. And boy, what a view!
We never wandered more than about 15 minutes from the hotel, but in that time I'd found scenery to match or exceed the other places I'd seen in the Alps. I began to think that all those times when I'd just zipped past the hotel on the way to Bormio or Livigno, I maybe should have stopped and tarried a little. When I tell adults that I'm taking Bowen on this massive (unplanned) journey through the Alps, they have a tendency to say things like: "What a wonderful learning experience for your child!" In reality, however, Bowen was teaching me as much as I was teaching him. There's certainly a value in tarrying and slowing down, and there aren't many 6-year old children who've had the desire (or opportunity) to tour like this and yet would choose to climb high passes. As we walked along, Bowen would sing his Stelvio song:
I considered how lucky I was, that my son loved the mountains as much as I did, and appreciated scenery, something that many adults tell me that children don't care about. I wrote a short poem in my head:
Two souls, one bike, across the alps they went,
One brought his strength, but the other his heart he lent,
Day by day they traveled, until the father learned,
The wisdom of the child cannot be earned,
But must through attention be heard,
And his heart's eyes and ears bestirred.
Dinner at the Berghotel is a half-pension: you don't get a menu, just what's being cooked that night. This was Bowen's first formal western dinner, so I explained the placement of the utensils and plate, how you use the outside utensils first, then the insider ones and the spoon furthest away was for dessert. Service isn't American style: they take away your first dish and then you get your second one. To my surprise, Bowen liked the Gnocchi and soup, and of course the Salad buffett.
By the time the main course came, he was quite finished with dinner, and only picked at it, but I was hungry enough to eat his portion. To my surprise, he didn't want the ice cream dessert. (He couldn't have the regular dessert because it had nuts that he was allergic to) I ran out after dinner and snapped one last shot of the moonrise with Alpenglow.
There was no question in my mind that bringing a large sensor point and shoot camera was the right move for this trip. I would have cried bitter tears having to shoot today's scenery with a smartphone camera.
Wednesday, August 08, 2018
June 24th: Selva di Gardena to Prato Allo Stelvio
Tuesday, August 07, 2018
June 23rd: Sella Rondo Bike Day
Monday, August 06, 2018
June 22nd: Via Ferrata Grand Cir
After breakfast, we packed up our bike, which despite being under a shelter showed signs of chain rust, left the keys in the apartment, and rode down to the train station, carrying all un-eaten food on the bike since we knew we were getting a taxi transfer. It turned out that our taxi driver was none other than Lukas Panitz, the owner of Base Camp Dolomites and a mountain guide and tour organizer. While driving up, I asked him about good paths down from Selva di Gardena on the bike, as I didn't think that there was a good bike path up, something he concurred with. He said that there was a good alternative down back to Bolzano, by riding over to Castelrotto towards Siusi. "There's a plateau there, so even though you have to climb a bit, the rest of it is easy riding, and it's away from most traffic." I asked him for ideas for what to do on our free day in Selva, and he suggested that if we were lucky, we might be able to get a mountain guide to do a Via Ferrata which was something his daughter practiced and enjoyed. He named Piccolo Cir and Gran Cir as two options that we could potentially do with a 6 year old. I told him about our consideration to do the Stelvio and he said to ping him in case he could find a way to help us.
I'd heard Arturo talk about Via Ferratas before, but I had no idea that a little kid as young as 6 might be expected to do it. We rode over to the tourist information office after dumping our bags at the Residence Antares. We could have walked it, but Lukas had emphasized that we might have already arrived too late to get a mountain guide for the day, and while we could do it on Sunday, this was the optimal day to have an off-bike activity. The tourist information office told us that the mountain guide office was already closed for the day, but then she called one of the mountain guides she knew and he was available and would meet us at the office!
Miguel met us and told me the price would be 200 Euros. Well, I didn't know squat about climbing or Via Ferratas, so I agreed and we went back to the hotel to get Bowen's sandals. Miguel looked dubiously about my cycling shoes, but I told him that that was all I had. He picked up harnesses for us, and then we headed out. Residence Antares was happy to hold our bike in the ski room, and Miguel picked us up in his car and drove us to the cable car.
The view from the top of the cable car was pretty good. On the way up, Miguel told us that Piccolo Cir was shorter but harder and Gran Cir was longer but easier, and he would suggest doing the Gran Cir first. Not knowing any better, I took his advice. In retrospect, doing the Piccolo Cir would probably have been more fun, and might have left Bowen more enthusiastic about the Via Ferrata experience.
The approach started with a hike up to the base of the wall. Bowen happily kept up with the mountain guide and walked surprisingly fast. At the base of the wall, we were asked to put on the climbing harness. I would manage my caribiners myself, but Bowen would be tied to the guide.
The climb itself felt like it was too easy, with only a few places where I felt like I ws in danger of falling. But as I climbed, I caught myself doing dumbass things, which is probably how someone could get killed doing an easy climb. For instance, you're supposed to have one caribiner clipped in at all times, but I would catch myself moving both at once.
I thought Bowen would not be happy to get dragged along by the guide, but it turned out that he was very happy to do things this way, and indeed he seemed to be having fun. In due course, we got to the top, where unbelievable views could be had, because it was such a clear day.
Unfortunately, a cold wind blew, and Bowen got cold. Once Bowen gets cold, he stops wanting to work hard, so the mountain guide half-carried and half-guided him down the mountain. There was no question that Miguel had earned his pay that day! Bowen was quite tired, but he nevertheless still walked all the way back to the cable car station for lunch. There was no question that we were going to try Piccolo Cir.
Back down in the village, Miguel showed us the zipline playground and the supermarket, and then we found an ATM so we could pay him in cash. The zipline playground wasn't good enough to hold Bowen's attention, so we went back to the hotel, where our room was finally ready for us to move in.
It turned out that the supermarket was just behind the hotel, and the apartment was on the ground floor (even though the receptionist called it the basement, we still got plenty of natural light). I went to buy dinner and breakfast the next day. The kitchenette had no oven, so I had to be careful to buy stuff that could be cooked over a stove.
We then did our shower and laundry routine, though I didn't have to wring out everything as thoroughly since we were here for two nights and there would be time for everything to dry. We checked out the hotel's indoor pool, which was Bowen's first exposure to a European-style pool, which typically has toys like button-activated waterfalls that give you a shower, jet-streams that would push you back-wards when you pushed a button, and even bubble makers on the floor. It wasn't a very big pool, but Bowen loved being able to turn the waterfall on at will. Even the showers were kind of strange, as they had aroma therapy options, where you could push a button and get various smells in while you showered.
We had to have an early night. Technically, the Sella Rondo Bike Day started at 8:30am, but Lukas had encouraged us to get an early start because things tended to warm up in the afternoon, and of course, certain winds could build up. In any case, the Bike Day ended at 3:30pm, and given that traffic would be waiting to traverse the passes the moment they were let through, I didn't want to be on the mountain when they opened up the roads.
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Friday, August 03, 2018
June 21st: Bardolino to Bolzano
The Hotel Bardolino's breakfast was great, and we ate quickly, packed, and left the hotel at 8:24, hoping to beat the heat. But first, we visited the Lake again to say goodbye.
Most of the climbing on the 17 mile ride from Lake Garda to Verona happened within the first half hour. Once we got out of the rim of the lake, the ride was mostly flat, and Komoot did what it does best, which was to put us onto a river-side bike path.
I couldn't argue with the views from the bike path. In Bussolengo, we ran into a mid-week market that required us to dismount and walk, but it was so interesting that I didn't mind. I gave the camera to Bowen hoping he would take a few pictures of things he thought were interesting, but all that came out were tons of pictures of my butt instead, which I can assure is not interesting.
The temperature mounted as we got into Verona, until in the last 200m to the train station, Bowen suddenly stopped complaining and just closed his eyes as though he was asleep. He would later claimed that he wasn't asleep, just that he had closed his eyes. I can believe it now, since the minute we entered the train station, his eyes opened wide and he had no sign of sleepiness, but at the time, I was convinced that he'd developed a fever and I was going to have to deal with the Italian medical system.
Things being what they were, I decided that a train ticket back to Bolzano was the right one. There was an EC German train serving Verona to Bolzano, but the ticket machine wouldn't let me buy a bike ticket! When I found one of the assistants to help me, she said that the ticket machine would only let me buy a bike ticket on the Italian trains. That train was a lot slower, but since navigating the Deutsche Bahn website on my phone would have been too slow, I just let her help me.
Italian train stations are nowhere as nice as the German or Swiss train stations: there are no ramps for the disabled or for bikes, and the elevators aren't big enough to take the tandem. Fortunately, a German man at the end of his bike tour took time off to help me move the tandem to our platform, and we boarded the Italian train with no problems, being careful to validate the train ticket before we boarded. There was already a bike on the train, and it belonged to Elisabeth, who had also ridden her bike from Laas up in the Alto Adige river down to Lake Garda and Verona. She said she was developing "sun allergies" and so had to abandon her plans to continue riding past Verona as well.
It was fascinating to hear her talk about immigration and its impact on Austria. "We're becoming a nation of immigrants too," she said. I couldn't tell from her voice and facial expression as to whether she thought it was a good thing or a bad thing, and I didn't ask. But she was very friendly and even offered to help us find a place in Bolzano, going so far as to call a friend who didn't pick up. I found an air conditioned residence apartment in Bolzano with a kitchen and a washing machine, so I wasn't too disappointed!
Arriving in Bolzano, Elisabeth offered to help us move our big heavy bike, but she had a train to transfer to, so I said that she should focus on that rather than risk missing hers. We got out of the train station just fine and rode to the address specified on booking.com, but it turned out that the Park Residence Apartments didn't have full time staff: most of the people who stayed there apparently arranged for someone to meet them at a specific time, rather than just showing up from the train station like a vagabond. Fortunately, the hotel that the apartments were connected to told me about this, and when I called them they were happy to come down and open the office so we could leave our panniers in there.
As a matter of fact, by the time I'd gotten my bike locked up, the primary receptionist had showed up early and checked us in, which meant that we could immediately move into the apartment, and rather than eating out, we could buy food from the supermarket next door and cook it, which was what we did!
After we'd eaten, I realized that if I still wanted to do the Sella Rondo bike day on Saturday, I had to find a way to get to either Canazei or one of the villages near the start, so I let Bowen take care of himself in the apartment while I went out to find the tourist information office. The tourist information office had information about the Sella Rondo bike day, but they weren't able to help with transportation. From my experience in the past, I usually made it to Canazei via Costalunga and the Karersee. But those climbs were severe, involving grades over 20% and/or long tunnel traversals. Even if I could make it over there on the tandem, I'd probably be too tired to do the actual Bike Day. The tourist information office did point me at Base Camp Dolomites, right at the Bolzano train station.
I walked over there and to my surprise they spoke English, and enthusiastically talked about providing a transfer service and suggested that I stay at Selva di Gardena, the official "start point" of the Sella Rondo Bike Day. They asked me if I had a hotel in mind, and I said, I could make a reservation right now on my smartphone. The employee looked at my phone, and then said, "Wait a minute. Let me call the hotel." He called the hotel, spoke some Italian into the phone and when the receptionist spoke to me, she quoted me a price for 2 nights at 100 Euros less than the quote on my phone! Coincidentally, that was the price Base Camp Dolomites gave me for the taxi transfer as well, so I gladly accepted and arranged for a taxi pick up at 8:30am the next day.
After that, the rest of the day was spent buying and preparing dinner, getting ibuprofen as insurance in case Bowen's behavior in the morning was indicative of a fever, and running the laundry machine. I even bought Weisswurst for breakfast the next morning. That evening, I checked Bowen's temperature a few times with my hands and they were normal. I'd wasted my money on ibuprofen, but these came in little satchels for dissolving in water so I packed a few in the panniers just in case.
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