Today happens!!!
I’m not even sure where to begin exactly. Dad and I just had the most wonderful dinner at the Pension La Fontana in Corvara in Badia, our home for the next few days in the Dolomites of Northern Italy. The food was outstanding but what made it even more pleasurable was the great conversation with our new Belgian friend Dirk who we met at the bar before dinner. He struck up conversation with us about motorcycles and Dad asked him if he would like to join us and eat together. He is here alone for a week riding his bicycle and could not have been a more interesting and nicer fellow. I would say he is a little bit older than me, married with 8 and 12 year old boys. We talked about cycling, motorbikes, banking (his job), acting, Americans and Europe, and the list goes on. Our dinner lasted nearly 2½ hours and could have lasted another two if not for the fact that we were all so tired. He from peddling, Dad and I from another long day on the bikes. I look forward to seeing him tomorrow evening.
I did not sleep so well last night. Dad and I shared a room in our small hotel in Valdidentro and my bed I think was precisely 6’4” long which just happens to be my exact height. The sheets were also tucked so tight that when I tried to pull them loose a bit I ripped one corner of the top sheet and then gave up so I was quite literally confined to one sleep position. Thankfully I was so tired from a long day that I eventually got some shuteye.
We woke to the most beautiful cloudless skies imaginable and the first thing I did was go out on our small balcony for a view of the Cima Piazzi which dominated the entire horizon. That is not a view I would easily tire of. We were on the bikes at 9am, which was the earliest we had saddled up so far this trip. We knew we had a long exciting day ahead starting with climbing up to the Passo Del Stelvio. We had come down the pass last night and both knew what we were in for and I can tell you that Dad was decidedly nervous. There were tunnels on this road that were little and dark and you would really not want to meet any oncoming traffic. The hairpins were also stacked on top of one another like the Grimsel Pass but the road was much narrower with shorter straights so every time you came out of a turn it felt as if you were going back into another.
We made it up to the top of the Stelvio without incident and this had to have been the best 66th birthday present my Dad could have asked for. Here we were, on top of one of the most famous roads in the world on a perfect bluebird day and we had arrived early enough that we avoided the circus that I am certain that place becomes by lunch. After taking our required photos next to the pass sign, Dad and I both went in different directions for unique pictorial perspectives. He went up to a restaurant called Tibet that is perched on a rock outcropping overlooking the southern section of the pass which we had yet to descend. I went the other way, taking a small, very steep hike up to a knoll just above the souvenir shops. I was able to get an almost 360* view and the mountains just went on forever. I could see the road just descend into what seemed like an endlessly deep valley. I got down first and wanted to try and get Dad a few souvenirs for his birthday. It was the very least I could do in appreciation for this once in a lifetime experience he had provided us. It is a blessing that I have the kind of relationship with my father that we are able to have an adventure like this and enjoy each others company and share the same passions. Truly a blessing indeed.
I found one souvenir shop, maybe not the most polished, but one that accepted Swiss Franc’s which is all I had and the woman who ran it, who I later found out was named Cristina, spoke a good bit of English and was extremely friendly. I bought Dad a keychain, a sticker, and a sew-on patch. I also got two postcards, a sticker for myself, and two Swiss cowbell Christmas tree ornaments for Amanda and my mother. All for the paltry sum of 78fr or nearly $80!!! There must be a mountain top tax because you can’t get these things anywhere else. Anyways, it was all worth it, and although small, I think Dad was very appreciative of his gifts, which I handed him in the bag I got them in. We spoke with Cristina for a bit longer and she told me very briefly of the history of this area. How it was once the border of Austria, Switzerland and Italy before WWI but afterwards Austria lost it and it became part of Italy. It is still very much a German speaking area. Neat.
After a delicious street vendor brat on some fresh focaccia bread, we suited up and prepared for our descent down the side of the Stelvio for which it is most famous. I had up to this point thought that what was so impressive about it was that you could see so much of the road and switchbacks without anything blocking the view. After all, it did not look very different that other passes we had done. Once actually on the road however I realized that what makes it so famous is not only the severity of the hairpin turns but also the steepness with which the road descends between then. Drop and turn, drop and turn. Add to that the fact that 100’s of motorcycles and a few cars we coming up the other direction and everyone is taking the turns wide to make the hairpins without having to downshift. This means that as I turn wide left around a hairpin (guardrail and 1000 foot drop on my right) there are often bikes and cars IN MY LANE as I go down, and when I swing right I need to go wide to make the turn and hope and pray no one is coming up. The experience lies in the actual driving itself, not in the views necessarily, although those were not too shabby, you just have no time to look at them.
Many minutes and what seemed like 1000’s of turns later we found ourselves at the very bottom in a long wide valley where apples were the abundant crop and the valley floor as well as the steep hillsides were filled with such farms. There was also immense traffic. It was a very busy two-lane road with shipping trucks, farm equipment and crazy Italian drivers. Everything they say about Italian drivers is true. To Americans they seem reckless, and maybe they are, but I think the deal is they trust that if you are ahead of them and they want to pass, that you will not alter your course. Essentially they are counting on you being consistent. This was never more true than watching them ride scooters in the fairly large city of Muren where they would scream thru the roundabouts without a care. One guy on a scooter passed Dad in a roundabout. It was amazing.
We stopped for lunch as a small rest area right at the border of the towns of Tirol and Kuens. We had a nice chat with a Brit named Mark who was on his fourth week of traveling alone by motorcycle. He must have some money saved up somewhere because the prices alone of gas in Europe would easily drain my bank account. He told us the pass we were headed up would be gorgeous and he was not lying. After a bit more traffic we dropped everyone behind us and began to ascend the Jaufenpass. This I think I can say without question is my favorite pass to date. While still in the tree line, everything was just so green. Occasionally you would break out of the forest to go thru small towns that seemed to cling to the sides of the mountain. The pass ascended steeply and the bikes on this road seemed more serous than others we had encountered. We were often lit up by crotchrockets around the scariest of turns. Dad and I were both tired and so just took it easy and waved lots of people by, although I don’t think many of them needed much waving. I do like it when you allow a biker to pass you, they kick out their right foot like a wave. As we got out of the tree line the views were never ending and the completely cloudless blue skies made it all the more dramatic. I am running out of adjectives to describe these mountains. Trust me, they’re pretty. 
At the top of the pass Dad and I took a small hike and got some breathtaking photos and video footage and got back on the bikes for the final leg to Corvara. We hit some major traffic and construction on some fairly major roads we were forced to take but finally turned off for the last 30k. The sign said we were heading towards a pass and honestly I thought my head would explode if I had to make another hairpin, but fortunately Corvara is a bit before the pass gets steep. We have our first taste of the Dolomites, which, I know you won’t believe me, are more spectacular than anything I have seen thus far, but I am going to save that adjective laden post for tomorrow as I am the most wiped I have been since we started.I am sitting here in my hotel room, looking at the moon rise over the ski lifts and I bid you a warm goodnight.
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