Mountainous areas are beautiful places. I know it is in the name, but they are one of the main reasons I ride a mountain bike. Sweet trails in twisty woodlands are great, as are fast trails in desert areas. But big mountain passes, and the suffering involved in getting to them, are the main reason I ride. Masochistic? Perhaps. Rewarding? Certainly.
So post Alpentour Trophy, I have headed to Livigno, Italy, with my MarathonMTB.com teammate Josh Keep. We have both been here a few times before. Josh raced an XC World Cup here in 2004. I have passed through on TransAlp in 2008 and 2010, and convalesced here after Sankt Wendel last year.
Livigno is blessed with two types of trail. There is the valley singletrack, that is virtually all weather thanks to good design, and well drained gravel top layer. It’s not ultra narrow, or very technical. But it does skirt around the valley of Livigno, including some pinchy climbs and views over the town. It’s fast and fun, and easy to ride even when you’re struggling with the altitude of about 1900m. The valley singletrack should probably also include Hans ‘No Way’ Ray’s Flow Trails. These are general mountain bike trails. Plenty of flow, some berms, and mostly gravity assisted. They are up on the Mottolino Ski Area, just a short berg out of town.
The real gold is the high altitude trails. And that’s where Josh and I were heading today. You climb up and through Hans’ trails, and carry onwards. This is a typical TransAlp route for the way of of Livigno. But today took a heavy toll. Josh still has an angry knee, so he had to turn back after about an hour. I certainly felt pretty average, but went over the next pass and descended towards the lakes below the Val Mora.
It is early riding season here in Livigno. That doesn’t mean it’s empty of riders. Mike Felderer is here, as is Gunn Rita. And the trails have plenty of fresh tyre marks. But it’s interesting when you come to streams and the bridge isn’t in place, it’s still up out of the way of spring melt water. But what started to catch me out was closed Ristoro’s. My pockets held a jacket and spares, but only a small banana. A Haribo or cake stop is usually required. But on a Tuesday in early June, nothing was open. At this point that was no biggie. But I was about to climb into the Val Mora (probably my favourite high altitude valley) which is just over the Swiss border.
So I rode around the lake, thinking. Should I go? It’s not a steep climb, but you follow a torrent of a river along bench cut singletrack, then climb through a horse farm. From here I wanted to turn around and head back. But this would result in about 3 hours or more. And I was far from fresh, and the skies are grey.
For a long time I waited at the cross roads. I really wanted to climb up into the valley. It’s quiet, calm and beautiful up there. You are right on the treeline, surrounded by mountains untouched by ski resorts. The water is purely snow melt, and all my memories of racing or riding through there are good ones. More than that, it’s a really historical pass, being used since at least the 13th Century for getting wine out of Bormio for trade.
So turning around and admitting defeat hurt. I climbed back over the Passo Alpisella and descended to Livigno. Even this descent is cool, being the old road out of Livigno up to the Val Mora. It’s built into the side of the cliff, with nothing to stop you from a length plummet if you slip out on the gravel and rock.
With only a few days here and a dodgy weather pattern, I’m a bit miffed. No legs to do what I want to, and possibly no weather window to recover to do it later. But it is Livigno, so a pizza and espresso will have to suffice.