Few places in cycling can rival the Alps for sheer scale. Even fewer can rival the Stelvio as the definitive mountain col. No matter the language, Stelvio Pass, Stilfersjoch, Passo dello Stelvio, this col, from whichever direction is brutal and beautiful in equal measure, I can attest to this having had a crack at it from both the Prato side and then the Bormio side.
With the Foscagna, Eira and Fuorn cols already in my legs and 60 miles traversed across Italy and Switzerland, the Stelvio beckoned. The next three hours were to be the most gruelling and educational of my cycling life.
The climb begins by rolling from Prato allo Stelvio at around 3,000ft. The target is the summit of the pass which is around 17 miles away, and 6,000ft higher. The pass is only bettered in altitude in the Alps by the Iseran. What unfolded was an almost religious experience. There are 48 hairpin bends on the climb from this side. The first three (48 to 46) take a while to appear and an even longer period to complete, a purgatorial prelude. I had ridden with Simon Wilson and James Gomm to the first hairpins, and then pushed on alone for 85 minutes of steady tapping on my 36*28 gear. A gearing which was way too big for the circumstances but which was good enough to crack a 5-6mph average speed.
I could see Simon on the lower slopes, hovering around 200-300 yards back, he was going steadily and James was not far off him. As we progressed the ~10% gradient was becoming harder to deal with, but the real kick in the teeth was the increasingly windy and wet conditions. The rain had become a full-on storm and the wind was now gusting 35mph.
At hairpin 22 several of our colleagues who began the day with us began to abandon. As a trio we were riding just on the edge of the storm, the only break in the gloom was the dozen or so Ferraris that were being thrashed along the pass. I'm no petrol-head so the spectacle was wasted on me. At that point in time I was looking for road position, so the screaming engines were more of a distraction for me than a delight, I was weaving around the falling rocks and shattered branches from the overhead pine trees to try and manage my tyres from puncture. A puncture or mechanical at that stage would be terminal - quite literally.
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| Stelvio Pass from the summit, facing towards the Prato side, two days after the ascent of doom |
At hairpin 10 the wind lifted me and my bike (the lovely Victoria) completely off the road. Boom! Welcome to the game son. The wind was increasingly ferocious. My thighs and calves were on fire. My focus was solely on getting to the top - the inner tester in me took over, 'I don't DNF and I'm not about to start now'.
My kit was drenched and I was drenched. Fortunately it was good kit and I'd held off the elements as much as anyone could, this was now a purely head game.
Simon went passed me, we exchanged glances and nods. We said nothing, like men on the gallows waiting for the drop. James went ahead and pushed hard for the top. It would take him 2 days to recover from that effort.
Getting to haipin 2 was the single most difficult physical thing I have ever done. Mentally it would be right up there too. Something akin to special forces selection I guess. Even my cramp had cramp. Twisted and contorted I pushed on.
The wind on the top of the climb was brutal, two of us sought shelter in a doorway until we spotted that the hotel at the top was open. We bundled for cover and then the enormity of what had happened set in. Shivering and shaking was the order of the day, a couple of co-riders came in, frozen and soaked to the bone. Blankets were conjured up by the hotel staff and lycra-layers were peeled off to stave off hypothermia, with modest effect.
A support vehicle arrived, dry clothes appeared, coffee, crisps, biscuits were consumed with haste. And then the suffering began to relent as we took sanctuary in a commandeered minibus and trailer. Bormio please driver, don't spare the horses.
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| The summit monument to Fausto Coppi. |
The day of the ascent would have been my late Father-in-Law's birthday, I didn't realise it till afterwards, as a great fan of Coppi Brian may well have been pushing me on somehow. That one was for you BP. The tales of the Stelvio and Cima Coppi are renowned for a reason but I now have my own personal post-script that will stay with me forever.
My respect for this pass is now absolute.
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| The summit of the Gavia - what a difference a day makes |
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