Our three nights in Bellagio seemed to fly by in a stressful blur. After one sweet ride up the Ghisallo, our next cycling was to pick up a replacement car in Bergamo.
After a pleasant 74km ride to the airport, it seemed like we'd caught the Avis depot by surprise, but they kindly gave us a largest vehicle they had, with a warning that "it isn't as large as your previous one". On the drive back to Bellagio, we also discovered that the front passenger seat's controls were bung, and that it would be impossible for anyone to use the seat behind it.
My challenge that evening was to fit my frame into the back of the car, which I was able to do only after removing the seatpost, and rear derailleur. I was somewhat confident I could get Sarah's (smaller) bike in as well, but we decided to take up the offer of help from the local publican, and committed to leaving the bike bags with him.
The next morning, the 3D jigsaw puzzle had me scratching my head, but we eventually got everything in (and still had room for three people)!
The drive to Lecco along the lake was much less pleasant in the car than it had been on our (much narrower) bikes, but once there, we spent most of the drive on a dual carriageway, and much of that was deep inside looming cliffs.
We had an early lunch stop down on the lake, and did a bit of grocery tourism in a massive supermarket 20km away from Bormio. Once there, we were immediately inundated with all things cycling, but in particular, remnants of the finish of Stage 17 of the 2025 Giro d'Italia, a week or so earlier. There were plenty of banners, but my favourite sight was a profile of the stage made using skis - a tip of the hat to the winter version of Bormio.
While ostensibly on a walk to check out the nearby supermarket, I popped to the Information Centre, to find that they pretty much assume (at this time of year) that everyone will be a cyclist - I grabbed a map which included a dozen ride suggestions!
After dinner, I decided our next day's ride would be to Passo del Mortirolo - a 10/10 ride in a guide book of 100 Greatest Cycling Climbs of Italy that I've brought from home. I didn't read the brief summary to Sarah, which made a big fuss about "the unrelenting gradient"!
We woke to a chilly and damp morning, and soon after breakfast, the power cut we'd been warned about by our host, who we had to contact to see if there was a way to liberate our bikes from behind the garage's motorised door! Fortunately, there was, and we soon had our steeds in hand.
I'd copped a bit of slack about the 2 minute warm up prior to the Ghisallo climb, so was quietly pleased to be starting with a 30km down-valley ride, during which we'd peel off some 700 vertical metres.
We stuck to the road for the out-bound trip. I was glad to discover that the temperature was manageable, even after getting pretty wet in the first few minutes of the ride. We saw a couple of blokes out on ski-pole assisted roller blades, and some cyclists using a path which I made a note to return on. In other news, my rear brake was virtually non-existent, and while it seemed to come to life after 30 seconds of pumping the lever, it would immediately fade... (When riding off to an hors categorie climb, what could possibly go wrong?!)
After about 50 minutes, we passed the road down from the Mortirolo, and soon after jumped onto the cycle path - the Sentiero Valtellina - a 114km path connecting Colico on Lake Como, to Bormio.
Just before reaching the base of our climb, we took a side trip to find a coffee. We were lured into a pub by the massive "WELCOME BIKERS" sign outside, and, given it was still before noon, ordered "due cappucini caffe doppio per favore", and then used sign language to add a good looking pain au chocolat to the order.
Then, there was nothing else for it but to get climbing.
I didn't pay the sign at the bottom as much attention as I should've, so missed out on all the vital statistics for the climb to Passo del Mortirolo - just over 11km, climbing about 1250m from the valley floor at 600m to a touch over 1850m.
Pretty much as advertised, we cracked straight into gradients well in excess of 10%, but the conditions were nice, and the surroundings were stunning.
It was interesting to see that dwellings tended to have a sign out front reporting the elevation - I guess a proxy for a street address!
From memory, French climbs have signage every kilometre, which report the gradient for the next kilometre, and the remaining distance and elevation. We soon discovered that in the Mortirolo's case, each of the climb's 33 switchbacks reported the elevation, and the gradient to the next corner (without saying how far away that corner was). Some stretches were more brutal than others - long and steep - but there really was a bit of everything (apart from totally mellow)!
Despite us both being a bit short on hilly rides, and that this is among the sternest climbs around, we made good progress, and without any fuss.
As any good husband would, I relieved Sarah of her water, and would top her up when we made one of our regular stops. There was plenty of running water around, with one spring with a sign suggesting it was a good drinking source. I emptied our bottles there, and traded up.
At the intersection itself, I pointed out to Sarah that we'd be returning to this spot (3km of climbing and the return descent later), and I was both proud and delighted when she replied that it would be rude not to go to the top.
Soon after, the forest began to thin, and the remaining corners came thick and fast.
Very near the top, I passed an open restaurant and until we rode past it some 20 minutes later, mulled over the merits of stopping. It was chilly, and while we had some dry warm layers in my saddle bag, it would be a bit of a gamble stopping.
I reached the pass almost 10 minutes before Sarah, and made good use of a phone stand in front of a summit marker which was replete with instructions for its use!
I put my buff on, and my jacket, but decided to try without putting a warm and dry layer on which I'd have to remove once we got back to the valley floor. I had a bit of a play with my brake, and it looked like I was going to have to be very careful on the way back down. Unfortunately continuous pumping only seemed to have a temporary effect.
As a result, it was very hard to enjoy the 1100 vertical metre descent. I kept a close eye on my map screen, to see how soon the next switchback would come at me, and never let my speed get up too high. The views were great, and I guess the sedate pace enabled me to soak things up just a little bit more. Oh that, and surviving...!
The alternative route down gave us a bit of a head start on the climb back to Bormio, which was just as well, as our legs were starting to fade. At about 2:30pm, we stopped for a late lunch - a couple of plates of pasta bolognese with lashings of parmesan cheese, with mine chased down by an espresso. The placemats commemorated the pros blasting through these parts - and I barely resisted taking one as a souvenir.
The cycle path was a treat, and took a much more meandering route up the valley, all the better to lessen the gradients. During our drive, we'd been impressed by the very committed road-building, and it was fun to ride below one of the more spectacular bridge-into-cliff-face sections.
At a pinch-point in the valley, we passed an interesting system of weirs, signposted as La stretta di Serravalle, and the trail builders had done a magnificent job of zig-zagging up the hill between the weirs and the road. Things mellowed thereafter, which was just as well!
Once we reached town, I began my search for a mechanic. The first place we stopped at pretty much just sold cycle clothing, but he gave me directions towards a couple of places with workshops, the first of which was The Stelvio Experience - a tour operator, with a couple of mechanics kept busy servicing rental bikes, no doubt. I asked one if he'd take a look at my brake, and 20 minutes later, he was apologising for not getting it completely to his satisfaction.
When I mounted up, I noted he'd also tweaked the front, and prior to working on it, had given it a bit of a gentle water blast and then blow dry. It was 20 Euros well spent, and I have high hopes for the next descent, coming soon to a blog near you!
I then reunited with Mum and Sarah, and after a lot of lovely chit-chat, we headed out for dinner. We walked for the best part of half an hour in search of a place to eat. Although we were able to enjoy some stunning cobbled streets, at the end of it all, we found ourselves at the same place we'd eaten at the night before. There, I couldn't help but order the meal my companions had both had previously - a buckwheat pasta dish with cabbage, potato and cheese. Delicious, and no doubt with a calorie count off the charts.
Perfetto!
Non-culinary stats: 86km ridden, just shy of 2000 vertical metres climbed, temperature range 10 to 20 degrees, a couple more curveballs successfully managed
Whoop, that wonderful photo of you in The Colours atop the Mortirolo is going straight to the pool room! Lovely photos of Sarah and Suze too, and what country to move through - as you say, hallowed roads! Great stuff bro, although I'm feeling bad the brake let you down a bit wtf! Big love to you all, ciao!
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