Dolomites and Carnic Alps 2019, Day 4

Sella Ronda Day! For the fourth time! (Not counting that other time that it was on the agenda but we decided not to be idiots in pouring down rain…)

Because of the giant October storm, the Serrai di Sottoguda was closed. I can only imagine the terrifying power of the flood waters channeled through that steep and narrow canyon. Much of the road and streambed were washed away in the cataclysm. There’s an astonishing overhead photo of some of the damage in this article about what happened and the plan to restore the Serrai.

The practical effect for us was that to start as usual by ascending the Passo Fedaia, we would have to be on a steep, busy highway, instead of the steep-but-dreamy-beautiful road through the Serrai. So in what was starting to feel like a theme of the trip, we rode the Sella Ronda in the other direction.

I occasionally can have a wee slight difficulty with change, but I wasn’t too fazed by the new plan. In one ride or another, I had done the ascent of the Campolongo, Gardena, and Sella in this direction before, though never all together. But the last segment, from the Passo Sella to the Passo Fedaia and would be a new experience.

It never ceases to amaze me how riding the same roads in the other direction can completely change everything. The rhythm of the day was really different, with the challenge of the climbs staying more constant, rather than going from about as hard as I’ve done to just a little more than a hill.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. First things first: after the downpours of the previous day, Sella Ronda day dawned sunny and warm-but-not-hot, the air crystal clear after the rain, and without noticeable wind. It was about as beautiful a day as would be possible for doing this ride.

There’s a lot more climbing to do to get up the Campolongo from Alleghe rather than Corvara, but it’s broken into segments and not that intimidating (well, at least as rides in the Dolomites go. Which is kind of like saying water just off the boil is not that hot, as compared to boiling water.) As the sun shone down on us from clear blue skies, it was hard to believe that less than 24 hours previously, impressively grey skies had been drenching me.

Quick break atop the Campolongo

We had a little regroup at the top of the Campolongo with snacks and directions (the next 3+ hours were taken care of with “turn left at the sign for the Passo Gardena, be sure to stop at the stop sign descending off the Gardena and turn left there for the Passo Sella.” Note: that second left turn would be a very very very bad one to miss. When we did the Passo delle Erbe loop, we kept going down there, and you go down for a long time. A really long time. No, longer than that.), and then a few of us started off towards Corvara.

Descending with people who hadn’t been this way before, I saw it with new eyes, and when they pulled off to take pictures, realized that I very much needed to do so too. The town, nestled by the towering spires around it, on such a beautiful day… Well, there’s a reason I keep going back.

I did have a moment of sorrow in Corvara, as I had to speed past the wonderful store where I have bought a couple fabulous outfits, knowing that there wouldn’t be another chance to visit them this trip. My wallet was happier, but I was sadder.

The Passo Gardena is a little rough to start, as your legs remember what climbing feels like (and offer their opinions about it), and as traffic is fairly heavy up through the town of Colfosco. Then traffic lessens a little, the views start to ramp up their stunningness, and your legs realize that they aren’t really going to convince you to turn around and descend again.

Atop the Gardena

I successfully summitted the Gardena and made the left turn at the stop sign while descending (very key!). The climb up the Sella is an interesting case of getting to admire much the same view on the way up as on the way down, rather than being a completely different experience. And in either direction, it’s some of my favorite scenery in the Dolomites. While I was reduced to incoherence by effort and astounding views, Andy rode along with me for a while. I remember it being enjoyable, and we talked about… something? … But I really can’t remember–the views were crowding everything else out of my brain.

Atop the Sella, I had to get a couple photos. A German man saw me taking a photo of my bike, and Had Opinions on the photo I needed to get. Which he proceeded to explain to me, emphatically. In German. No, I don’t speak German. But he kept on emphaticizing, so I handed my phone over, stood next to my bike smiling and moving this way and that until he was satisfied and took a photo. He Germaned at me some more, I said “danke” and retrieved my phone in a daze, and continued on, pretty nice photo in hand.

The German’s photo of me

My photo of me. The German may have had a point…

This was now new territory for me. Descending what I had only ascended before was really fun, with new views, and revisiting old memories. Even better, partway down the descent was the van, and lunch!

Lunch was here!

I really liked heading up the Passo Fedaia from this side. It’s more scenic than the other side, and the road had nice twists and turns to it, rather than a depressingly long straight shot of 15% grade. All the same, I was starting to scent the barn, and didn’t stop to take photos of the lake at the top (and on this beautiful day, it really was spectacular). After a brief stop at the van (thank you, Gerardo!), I headed down.

This was my least favorite part of the day, heading down the 15% side of the Fedaia. I spent the whole day not looking forward to it. But I just took it slow, and told myself that if my hands started cramping up or my brakes started overheating, I could just stop for a while. I didn’t need to, but it was reassuring.

As I reached the bottom, Andy caught up with me, just in time for us to be stopped for a while while traffic was routed through a construction zone in alternating directions. There was some unpleasantness of dust and bad road surface (and a dump truck that insisted on jumping in front of us, then going slower than we could have gone whole spraying dust from its load), but after that we had a pleasant ride back to Alleghe, jumping on the new riverside path for the last bit.

I had such a glow from this day. It was so beautiful out, I had so much fun riding these roads I love, and thanks to the Cinghiale tradition of plying us with delicious food at rest stops in beautiful locations, I was tired but not flattened. All considered, I felt remarkably perky for doing a route that, the first time I rode it (albeit in the other way) I seriously doubted my ability to complete. That sense of making the fearsome not only accomplishable, but joyous, is one of the repeat experiences I treasure about these Cinghiale trips.

Day 4, 59.1 miles, 8,400 feet