Passo Giau, Duran & Tre Cime di Lavaredo

The magnificent top of the Passo Giau

Thanks to our Guest Contributor Alex Newport-Berra for his description of riding the famous Dolomite passes and his cycling adventures.

Editor’s note… Alex was connected to us through a mutual friend after he expressed interest in spending time riding in the Dolomites. He arrived with his bike and little else, checked into Alta Badia’s Ustaria Posta for 4 weeks, and became a legend on the roads for his power, endurance, and incredibly long days climbing, climbing, climbing. After his rides he would sit in the ice cold river behind the hotel for long periods, letting his legs go numb for the recovery benefits. As it so often does in a small town, word spread amongst the locals of this crazy American sitting Buddha-like in the river. It was also noted how strong he was. Come summer 2010, I bet we see some Italian cyclists sitting in the river. For me it was a joy to meet Alex and get to show off the roads of the Dolomites. He left me with some training to do.

Alex and Dan riding the Dolomite's Sella Pass

Alex Newport-Berra

There are enough passes in the Dolomites to keep your legs busy for weeks, and when you realize you can climb them from either direction you’ll simply want to double your daily mileage, and when you think about it, why not?  A 140 kilometer ride is going to be at least 70 km of downhill, so you’ve really only ridden 70 km, and with the next espresso always less than 10 km away.

My first trip to the Dolomites was a four week paradise during the month of July 2009.  The roads, people, scenery, and culture had a profound effect on me.  I encourage anyone to find their own time cycling in the Dolomites, whether it be for a few days, a few weeks, or, for my friend Dan, a few months that turn into a few years.

The Passo Giau

I remember the first time I climbed the Giau.  Actually, I remember every time I climbed the Giau.  Probably similar to the way a mother never forgets childbirth, not the most pleasant feeling during the act of it, huffing, puffing, grunting, red-faced, but when it’s all said and done there’s a big smile followed by the words, “Isn’t it beautiful!”

The Passo Giau waits confidently in a narrow canyon, pain disguised amidst the beauty of cascading waterfalls, towering forests, hundreds of year old farming cottages and rolling green hillsides.

My friend Matt had loaned me his iPod and I was listening to Metallica and as I approached the base of the climb. As if on cue, the song “One” started to play in my ears.  “One” is a song about a Vietnam war veteran who awakes to find that he has lost all of his limbs in war and is now merely a torso on life support.  The song starts with sound effects of an army helicopter and gunfire rallying in the background.

Alex Newport-Berra ear to ear

A simple triangular sign with an exclamation point, “29 Tornanti!” seemed to serve as a sort of warning that I was in for something serious. Already the climb had a reputation in my mind when Dan and Igor both gave me their thoughts on the climb.

The combination of music and mystique had me feeling I was going to battle, entering the front line.  Which, was almost the truth, considering the Dolomites were home to many epic sieges and battles during World War I.

Subsequent ascents were “easier”, thanks to me learning the value of a well timed espresso and knowing a bit more what to expect.  Maybe maternity wards should start administering espresso shots for the mother to be.

Still, the final two kilometers, winding exposed up a high alpine meadow, the summit hut in view, you can’t help but feel you might be picked off by a lactic acid sniper on the cliffs at any moment.

The Tre Cime di Lavaredo

You’ll notice this climb lacks the “Passo” lead-in of the others.  And this is because the road does not go up and over, just up, and then up some more, and then stops with the most spectacular panorama you will get from a road in the Dolomites.

The meat of the climb is seven kilometers, and don’t worry about filling your water bottles at the bottom, in fact, you’re better off just emptying them. 1) you won’t want to be thinking about the added weight  2) you’ll need every inhale for oxygen.

About halfway up the climb, spray-painted on a barrier after an intense switchback, you’ll see written, “Al rifugio del Pirata”, an homage to the late Marco Pantani, one of cyclings most beloved pure climbers.

After the Passo Duran and Staulanza

The Giro d’Italia used this climb up the Tre Cime di Lavaredo a couple years ago and if you need inspiration you’ll get it from passing over names of famous cyclists who ascended en route to a stage finish.  (One year they used this climb after an epic stage that included an ascent up the Giau earlier in the day.)

The climb up to the Tre Cime di Lavaredo is the steepest (note – sustained 19%).  On most climbs the switchbacks are less steep than the straight bits, however, on the Tre Cime the switchbacks are steeper.

The view at the top is amazing and worth the extra half kilometer at your max heart rate to get to the top-most parking lot above the hut and lower parking area.  From here the horizon opens up in every direction with the towering Tre Cime di Lavaredo behind, patting you on the back for a job well done.

The Passo Duran

Ascending the Passo Duran from the town of Agordo is the recommended route.  A couple kilometers into the climb you’ll notice painted on the road, the words, “Once in a lifetime”, nobody claims to know the exact who or why behind the words.

One possible explanation Dan and Igor offered is the descent.  Most of the descents in the Dolomites are smooth, well paved, swaths offering plenty of cornering space.  The Passo Duran however requires a bit more attention to the front wheel and speed.  Narrow, rough road, wheel-eating cracks, tight turns, but don’t let this description detract you from the climb, it just means you’ll have a good reason to take the descent slowly, giving you time to enjoy the view of the forested surroundings.

The first time I climbed Passo Duran and saw the words written at the bottom I made a pact with myself to defy them.  And in keeping the promise I like to think my two ascents up the Duran meant I lived two lifetimes during that first trip.

Alex Newport-Berra doing what he loves, riding his bike uphill