To approach the Stelvio is to confront fear and anticipation. Anyone heading North out of Prato allo Stelvio well knows what’s ahead, and they have chosen to do it. Apprehension and thrill on the cusp of one of the World’s great ascents.
You are definitely on a climb straight out of town, but the roadside art and rising views kept me pretty busy. The climb proper arrived after around 40 kilometers. I’d watched the Giro summit this climb live on TV a few times, read of the storied ascents from yesteryear and marveled at the switchbacks snaking up a never-ending pass. We stopped in town for a last cappucino to steady the nerves and steel the determination. My mind was already farther up the pass as we drifted up the first “slopes,” a perfect little bike path built recently to shepperd the flock to the grail. Trinkets of interesting life dotted the roadside, calling you to stop…but up, up, up beckoned.
The first switchbacks and 10% grades came about 10Km later as we climbed above a gorgeous little church in a field. A dozen more in the next 5Km brought us to 6,000’ and the open slope that appears in so many pictures, only 30 to go.
The slog seemed endless at times, but the views more than made it passable. Higher and higher it went, just the way you wanted it to. The tight set of turns near the top told you the end was near and taunted you with their endless meters, some 100m up in the last 400m alone.
The crowds were a surprise. Pedestrians meandering, motorcycles revving, cars waiting. We rolled to the van and and lunch, hunkered away on a side street just off the maelstrom. I wasn’t the fastest, nor slowest…but that mattered only in our small brains. This was BIG beauty. Big vistas. Big fanfare. And then we went down
A sedate plunge (is that a thing?) from 9,000’ to Bormio. I passed a bus near the end. It was a stupid choice, but such is the revelry of the high mountains when anything seems plausible after a summit of the Cima Coppi.