The Dolomite Giants:Tre Cime and Gruppo di Sella
(Part II)

(Above: Nearing the entrance to Tre Cime; S48b south of Schluderbach)

About a kilometer past a lake to my left, I arrived at a Y-junction at Schluderbach. I followed the left fork to S48, whereupon the climbing began in earnest, hitting 11% in spots. After about four kilometers and 1000 feet of climbing, the road flattened a bit as it approached Col San Angelo and a very pretty meadow.

(Below: The very steep approach to Lago Antorno)

From here, the 8½-km road to Tre Cime branched off in a sharp left turn that almost doubled back. After a short rise and drop, the road climbed steeply at 16% for about 800 meters, not levelling off until it reached Lago Antorno. The classic Alpine view of a deep blue lake at the foot of snow-dusted peaks was simply breathtaking.

(Above and Below: Scenery to die for--Lago Antorno and nearby peaks)

The flat lakeside road was but a brief respite because, following another short downhill past the toll booths, and past a left bend over a bridge, the climb continued in a more sustained fashion—a wicked 16% for almost the rest of the way. The road stayed steep throughout, so much so that the meagre flattenings on the turns were the only points of relief for me. Oxygen debt, here I come….

(Below: Approaching the Tre Cime toll gate, cyclists free)

Though the scenery was indescribably beautiful, one is almost certain to ignore much of it until one reaches the summit or until the descent (that is, if one had the guts to take one’s eye off the twisting road!). There were more tour buses on the road than I cared for, though they were chugging uphill slowly enough that having them pass me was not as unnerving an experience that it usually was.

(Above: One of the few flatter sections of the climb to Tre Cime, this bridge was just past the toll booth)

(Above: Merrily along one stretch of the 16% roads)

The road became extremely twisty near the top and, in a couple of places, I felt a very slight easing of the grade (as in from ridiculously difficult to "merely" very difficult), all the while noticing the three limestone peaks (which appeared as one from the road) looming ever closer. But good times don’t last forever and I soon reached the final stretch that finished at the parking lot just below Rifugio Auronzo.

(Above: The twisty, open, and yes, steep, section near the top)

The excitement and the adrenaline rush engendered by having reached the summit left me with an unwonted surfeit of energy. I went past the lot and, rhythmically swaying Erasmus out-of-the-saddle, "sprinted" all the way up the short rise to the rifugio, amidst encouraging multi-lingual cheers from the bus-loads of Korean, German, and Italian tourists who must have seen me grimacing my way up the road earlier.

(Below: The summit parking lot)

(Above: Rifugio Auronzo at the foot of the mighty three peaks)

Well anyway, it was all worthwhile—the view was simply phenomenal and the "toll" exacted from my legs to stand and gape at the panoramic view before me was just compensation. Oddly enough, the Tre Cime themselves were the most disappointing because, from the rifugio, the nearest peak obscured the two others. I stood near the edge of a steep cliff and got a superb view of Val Padola to the NE. The view extended much farther out, crossed the border into Austria, and into the Karnische Alps.

(Above: Answer to the question whether these crazy climbs are ever worth it)

Backtracking my way, I had to carefully negotiate the hairpins near the top. Scenery that on the way up turned in slow-motion in lock-step with my slow progress now whizzed by as if in a blur. As I am wont to do on technical descents, I slowed down. In any case, on tricky downhills such as this, taking one’s eyes off the road or a miscalculation could prove fatal—one wide turn around a blind corner, or taking a corner too fast and drifting over the edge—are distinct possibilities.

Downhills such as this do drive home the steepness of the road and the enormity of the undertaking—I felt quite privileged to belong to the fraternity of cyclists—for we’re one of the lucky few to experience the euphoric sensation of cutting through the air and reap the rewards of our labor. To me, this "rush" greatly accounts for the motivation behind cycloclimbers practically killing themselves to haul themselves up steep hills. It’s a feeling that those who ask why I climb steep hills have never experienced, or they wouldn’t ask.

Last Updated: January ,(, /),(