Some of you may remember that a long time ago now I posted 'boasting' that our Alpencross trip finally had a date set. We had nine weeks to prepare for an epic ride across the alps.

After many evenings sat scanning google earth, reading of other peoples experiences and various posts on various forums and some generous help from a member of STW our route was still not set.

As you can imagine there are many tracks that will take you across the Alps depending on where you are starting/heading and the difficulty of the terrain you wish to encounter. I'd guess that 80% of Alpencrossers head for Lago di Garda/Gardasee/ Lake Garda when heading south from Germany. We were also making up that percentage.

And so it was.

The time arrived (far too quickly) for us to jump on a train and head south to Oberstdorf, one of the southernmost stations in Germany, leaving us at the foothills of the Alps. I printed out two routes along with various potential detours/shortcuts (read train station/ cable car). We decided whilst in the train we'd ride the route built loosely on that that ChrisE had sent me based on the amount/lack of tarmac involved and the availability of cable cars ('beschissener' I hear you cry).

The weather in was good up north but progressively deteriorated the further south we got until we were faced with grey clouds and big rain drops.

Our original plan was to ride into the valley and camp out somewhere that night with our tarp, giving ourselves a slight headstart for the next morning and saving ourselves the cost of a B&B. It wasn't to be the case.

I was glad to find the next morning that my choice of footwear was endorsed by others.

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The weather as we approached the valley looked to be hanging in the balance

but things soon changed as we approached Schrofenpass. Each cloud that blew up the valley deposited a fair amount of water on top of us.

Now, I'd seen many photos of the track up to Schrofenpass with the walkways bridging the gaps and (hopefully) preventing you falling several hundred metres to your death but this view gave us an idea of the scale of things to come.

Oberstdorf is one of the most popular strating points for a Transalp and as such we weren't alone on the climb up, not something that I found uncomforting if something were to go wrong. Several major accidents and deaths have occurred here and some people go out of their way to avoid this pass; riding up an extra 300m to another pass. The bikes have to be carried and pushed for the last few hundred metres, keeping the bike on your left hand side due tot he rock face on your right.

It really isn't as bad as some (on the internet and bike giuding companies) have made out.

After a wet and muddy descent into the next valley we freewheeled our way a few km's to Steeg. With hindsight, I'd rather follow the road up to Warth and through the relatively easy-going valley onto Lech and then Verwalltal.
As it was from Steeg, we had a hefty slog up a tarmaced road in the rain, gaining height all the way. We stopped to get some grub inside us at a hut. The Wirt (landlord) told us that our intended destination (Leutkircherhütte) was a good three hours away.

(hut is behind the hills on the left)

We guessed that being on the bikes it'd take us about 2/3 of that and that we'd arrive at about 7ish. We were wrong. From where we were, we lost 100m or so descending down into the valley below the hut. The ascent to the hut is not one I would repeat in a hurry. It was horrible. The Wirt had said three hours for walkers. Bikers are generally quicker than walkers so long as they don't have to push and carry their bikes up a wet mountain side.
It was a strange climb up. The first section through the woods was steep and muddy. A slipped foot resulting in a comedy slide down several metres back down. The second section around the tree-line was more or less rideable bar a few mud bath spots. The third section was awful. Large stony step-ups of 2ft or so; no chance of riding and mostly having to shoulder the bike over the rocks and searching for an almost non-existant path; full of false summits and no sign of the hut until one point where we glimpsed it briefly as the sun dropped behind the hills to the west. It seemingly disappeared, like a mirage, and we didn't see it again until we were about 50m below it.

700m, three hours and many minutes later we arrived at the hut. It was 9.40, almost dark – the sun having disappeared behind the hills long ago and really **** cold (4ºC)– made worse for my mate, who I should really introduce, because he slipped on a rock whilst crossing a stream leaving him with a wet leg and even wetter (and colder) shoe/foot combo. We receievd many surprised looks from the other guests who had all finished their meals as we entered the Essenzimmer. We received even greater looks of surprise upon telling our fellow diners which route we had taken in order to be where we were. Sadly, I can't say that we had a great nights sleep. Luxuries are few at 2251m in a hut supplied only by helicopter. I'm convinced there was a snoring competition going on in our dorm. I can't say that i'm that keen to spend another night in a hut too soon.

We were greated the following moring to a cloudless, beautifully blue sky. It the became apparent to us why it was worth going through the pain the night before. A long stretch of single track lay in front of us (of which I stupidly didn't take a photo but did get some film of Matey descending and falling – first section of video), dropping over 900m down to St. Anton.

It was of little surprise to us that I was the first to be on the receiving end of 'durchschlag' – or through-hit, commonly known as a snakebite – what with me being on a hardtail. Now despite having spent the pretty much the whole of last year living on the edge of the Alps I hadn't had a puncture in such a scenic spot before.

Infact I had surprisingly few punctures last year. Fewer infact than I had on this trip. I wouldn't put it down to the terrrain, or the tyre or wheel (both being the same), so much as the change of bike. I was previously riding a Sanderson. Here I was rding an Alpine. The stupendous amount of travel at the front encourages you to ride like your on drugs. Your legs simply can't keep up with the arm/fork combo at the front and you have to reluctantly jump on the brakes to bring things back to normality. It is a crazy bike and the first time I'd been able to give it a proper work out; and I like it, a lot.

Whilst I was busy fixing my bike, Matey was busy fixing us up 'breakfast'.

So further on into St.Anton to satisfy our resultant hunger. We tried not to loose too much height too quickly on the way down and made our way across the hill more than down resulting in another push/carry section before the path became ridable again. From St. Anton we headed into Verwalltal. Here would have been a brilliant spot to camp.

Shortly after this photo was taken I managed to wip out on a gravel track, ripping some skin from my knee and upper arm. (Un?)Surprisingly I didn't take any photos of my war wounds.

The views all along this valley are simplyt brilliant. You get real sense of being in the Alps. Really wild.

Halfway up the valley we had 'lunch' aswell as something to eat 😉 . This spot being simply too perfect to pass-by.

The climb up this valley is relatively easy, long schotterweg/fireroad climb, a little singletrail and then a push after a bridge. This is the last photo I took before the slow push up a relatively steep section. As I said, the scenery is awesome.

On the way up we were passed by several bikers coming down from the opposite direction. Nothing unusual I hear you think (if ever it were possible for me to 'hear' what you are thinking before you've even had a chance to envisage what it was). We were then greeted with a man of around 60 coming down on an old rickety dutch shopping bike; skinny 28” wheels, semi-slick tyres and a basket on the back. “Respect” was all we could utter as he rattled past. He seemed happy.

Once over the rough stuff we were greeted with a nice strip of singletrail and the sight of Heilbronnerhütte (2308m). Here we had a little chat with a group of four Scots (hello) who put us to shame with their GPS, rain clobber, 30ltr (full!) rucksacks and helmet cam. We figured we didn't need rain trousers because it meant (i) buying some and (ii) carrying them, so consequently wore a pair of swimming trunks with the thought that they'd dry quickly once it stopped raining. This approach is really only to be taken when you know for sure it isn't going to rain. As it was, on our first day we went dashing into a hut begging for a bin liner each. We came out sporting the latest in plastic, home-made kilts in order to keep the rain at bay. Luckily we didn't need them after this and the Scots had only put it on presumably to show off or because of the wind-chill factor on the descent.

The descent from Heilbronnerhütte is a little dissapointing. 'Schotter' (nothing to do with the four lads'n'lasses), or fireroad in English, drops sharply into the valley below. I didn't think we were travelling that fast but we slowed for a gourp of three on good looking fully tourers, as we passed two tried to saty on our tail but we lost them pretty quickly. We took a small diversion a few hundred metres on to a small technical section of singletrail full of big rocks and switchbacks. Eventually we made our way back onto the 'schotterweg'. It is here we made our biggest mistake – we made several but this one stands out. Thinking that we'd save weight and that the Alps (in my experience) are quite well signposted and many maps being displyed in huts and the like, we decided not to bother carrying our own maps. Upon seeing a little trail that dropped away from the 'schotterweg' and signposted as heading toward Partenen, we took it. What resulted was a brilliant, very little used, technical trail running alongside a small stream. When we eventually reached a sign, upon which 'Galtur', our supposd destination, was written. Our problem being is that said sign stated four hours to said town. We were 'verfahren', that is to say lost. We had descended almost 1000m into the wrong valley. We should have stayed on the 'schotterweg' toward Zenisjoch.

We rode on into Partenen (1051m), grabbed a map from the Inforamtion Center and a take away pizza. We had a nice chat to two old ladies who told us there was a bus that would take us and the bikes up to the pass, Bielerhöhe (2037m), but the next one to leave was in the moring. We decided that what with it being a nice evening we saved our selves a few (Euro) pennies and kip in the woods. It was almost dark by the time we managed to set our tarp but we got it up (sort of).

the next morning

the weather was good and we made it into town with enough time to get to the bakery before the bus left. After a rather impressive bus ride (balls o'steel bus driver) along and feat-of-engineering road we arrived at Silvrettasee/Bielerhöhe, another feat of engineering.

I find it a little sad at times when you see how the environment has been so drastically changed by mans hand. But on the other hand these lakes feed massive hydro-electric systems that power more than half the country and the Alps are big.

From here it was an easy freewheel toward Galtür, scene of one of the worst avalanche disaters in recent times. Many building are now protected by large, think massive, rock walls as high, if not higher, than the houses they protect.
Further on we arrived in Ischgl, leaving our original plan of riding up a little ridden valley, Lareintal. We wanted to savour what is said to be one of the best technical downhills in the area but it would have meant a two hour push up to the pass and a heavy ascent to get intot the valley proper. And besides, there was a seilbahn (cable car) in Ischgl. We paid our 7€ to get up to the middle station and I'll confess, we didn't get out at the middle station. We stayed on and gained an extra 700m by exiting at the top. From there we saw a sign asking bikers to use the next lift to the very top and they weren't even asking for any money. It was a free ride! We jumped at the chance of stepping out at 2928m above sea-level. This did slightly alter our plan, although our plan had already been cocked-up when we got lost the day before. We decided we would now stick more-or-less to our proposed route but rather than pushing our selves to try and stay on schedule we'd take our time a little more and relax. With this we thought we had 'lunch'.

After lunch we posed with our bikes and tried, and succeeded in looking cool. I'm on the right.

I'll say a quick few words here about the bikes seeing as this is about the best picture of them. Matey's 'Panzer' weighs in at around 'a-lot'kg. Relatively old (2003?) Giant AC2 with U-turn Lyrik (coil) and an impressively heavy 670gr coil shock. Two or three days before we were due to set off he snapped off the valve on his NEW(!), un-ridden Monarch shock. Maxxis High Roller 2.35 front and back.
Mine, DB Alpine with (dying-soon-to-be-sent-back) 2-step Lyrik. The 2-step is a great system when it works although i'm now thinking something like the Fox something-or-other with its three settings of 110-130-150mm would be a better bet on this frame. 690mm VRO Syntace bar/stem (brilliant system despite what some of you have said in the past [where is the two finger smiley?])
Maxxis HR up front with Advantage 2.4 on the back. I'm not entirely sure what would have been better; a thicker walled version or DH tube – read on to see why. The bike in this guise weighs 14.4kg with the tarp (on bars), bottle/pump (downtube) and general crap in the saddle bag.

The backpacks each weighed around 5kg. That included for me; sleeping bag, mat, extra top, extra socks (woolen socks and merino tops rock – they don't stick to high heaven after a day and need only a quick rinse to freshen them up), 1st aid, mini suncream and deo bottles, teeth stuff, and camelbak (filled only 1/3 twice when water was clearly scarce).

Our plan now was to take a high route along a ridge toward Fuorcla Val Gronda

and then onto Fimbapass, a kilometer or so further on.

This involved a bit of border hoping between Austria and Switzerland, but unsurprisingly there weren't any customs officials here to ask for our documents.

A stop start downhill followed; big half-sunken rocks and pedals catching on the tufts of grass- the path being eroded to 1ft below the surrounding earth in places. It was rideable as far as the scree slopes.

(looking back into valley)

After that it was a two hour push across scree and snow to Fuorcla Val Gronda (2752m); Fuorcla being pass in Italian, I think.

A short but flowy descent toward Heidelburgerhütte followed before coming upon a sign indicating the way to the Fimbapass. After a 45 minute ride/push up we reached the pass with two 'oldies' hot on our heels.

If you are ever in the mood for a bike holiday as opposed to an Alpencross I would strongly recommend you to make it to Ischgl. From there there is a large network of lifts and 'trails ohne ende', that is roughly translated 'trails without end'. And one big highlight of your holiday would be the desecent from the Fimbapass down toward Ramosch. I didn't take any photos here but we did get lots, but not everything, on film. It is a brilliant ride. Stoney, technical, flowy, switchbacks. Lots of fun. Just keep following the signs toward Ramosch and you'll be rewarded with some brilliant singletrail once around the tree-line. Ramosch itself is a very pretty little town, as were the two girls sitting on the bench smiling at us as we rode by.

We found a campsite where we were told that is was going to rain that evening. “Bugger” we thought what with just the tarp but the the nice lady said that for an extra 3€ we could bunk in the bunk-house. We spent the rest of the evening sitting on th banks of the Inn river slapping ourselves silly because of the mozzies. We awoke the next morning to brilliant blue skies but strangley soaking wet clothes that we hang simply hung off our bikes outside the night before. So it had rained.

With soggy clothes we trundled off toward Val d'Unia; a valley famous for its tiny 1m wide path cut along the face of the gorge.

This isn't a place to be fooling around. I could fully understand the mum screaming at her kids to stay on against the wall when traversing this section.

I originally guessed that the path was of military origin but have since found out that it was created by the a German Alpine Club. It is one hell of an undertaking and one can't imagine how much TNT was used.

Once out of the gorge things become a little saner, more rideable, but yet the scenery is still stunning.

We passed, unbeknown to us, into Italy. It was here, on the following descent, that was to occur my greatest 'pech', or 'un-luck' for want of a better word, whilst on tour. After a small jump my Montane rain jacket stuff sack strap snapped sending the sack into the path of the rear wheel where it got shredded, pinned against the frame.

Between the waterfall, the trail to the right and where this photo was taken I got three snakebites within 1km of riding. Despite the schotterweg being passable by 4×4 it was still very rough.

I was a this point a little fed up. We'd run out of good tubes so sat there, had something to eat, a smoke and patched up the three duff tubes. I also had to cut off the end of my toothpaste tube in order to patch the tyre that had partially ripped.

(the valley from which we came)

We were now in Süd Tirol. As soon as you are out of the valley above you realise the change in the landscape. The valleys are wider and the hills are bigger.

Whereas before the hills seemed much tighter, more packed together. Here they seemed more spread out. A sudden feeling of space.
On the descent down into the valley I got another two punctures and yet another rip in the rear.

Now I don't know why, but it was obviously my day, my nose suddenly started sprouting blood whilst we were having a look at a castle. All mch to the amusement of Matey.

We were now only around the supposed half-way point and we had one day more before we had to jump on train to head south and meet our girlfriends (and Matey's 6 month old kiddie) so we decided to make it to the nearest town with a train station camp up and go 'lite' on the bikes for a day.

That town was Mals. Here we set up our tarp in a campsite full of 'beschissener' campers with caravans and mobile homes. We spent the night with some dutch kid chatting, smoking, eating, climbing a wall and, yes, patching the tubes.

The next morning we set off without all the extra weight of sleeping bags, mats, tarp, rain jacket, wind-proof and toiletries, but instead filled our bags with food. Lots of it. Loads of rolls, fruit, munchy stuff. I think in the end we carried more in our packs than usual but at least the packs got lighter as the day progressed.
We chose to ride the hill nearest camp, some 1300m above us. The guy at the campsite had recommended it to us and it was a top tip. We rode and pushed up the path we would be riding down. This was a nice change and it was nice to have an idea of what you would be riding. The trail itself was wonderful. Sandy and dry. Wooded and open. Technical and flowy. Switchbacks galore. A few natural kickers here and there. And we knew all this before we reached the top. We picked some wild strawberries on the way up

(where we were heading)

The view from the top across the valley to the next range was stunning. At the top we fed ourselves silly and took in the view.

Our final desent of our (almost) Alpencross was prehaps one of the best. Unburndend by our camping gear, safe in the knowledge that if anything did break it was only a (relatively) short limp back down into town and that we knew (mostly) what was coming up. I say mostly as Matey found out after exiting the woods and somehow flipping over the front of his bike, his front washing out on the soft sandy soil.
As with the Fimbapass we didn't take many photos but we did get some film before the memory cards ran out.

Another night much similar to the last but without the tedium of rubber patches followed, although with substaintially more beer and the rest of our 'food'.

We awoke the next morning to and pootled along slowly to the train station to find out the next train would be leaving in 25mins and the one after that in two hours. We peddled back as fast as our weary legs could carry us to chuck everything we had into the bags. We made the train on time with 2 minutes to spare and then slept…… for ages.

Would I do it again? Yes.

You come across very many (is that English?) people on relatively racey, lightweight bikes who are obviously there just to cross the Alps on their bike; not to get air, go fast and be generally 'rad' on the way down. We were overtaken by so many people on the climbs but the only time we were over taken on the downs was when I had a puncture (or two, or three).
I think next time if I was to cross the Alps I'd; allow for a lot more time; take the girlfriend as many trails and all of the schotter is rideable; stay in Pensionen (B&B's) so as not to have to carry camping gear and sleeping bag (needed in the huts). It would be more expensive staying in B&B's but I think I could have covered an extra 20km or more each day if I weren't carrying so much.

Alternatively i'd jump on the train to somewhere such as Ischgl, camp up proper and then ride out from there. Prehaps 2-3 days before moving on to another area. The nice thing about Ischgl, for example, is that they provide good, well detailed maps and books of the area for free. The downside to areas such as Ischgl is that there are very many other bikers and it is difficult to get a real sense of wilderness due to the infrastructure of the ski lifts everywhere.

All in all, a top trip.

Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed it.

VIDEO HERE!!

shoes:

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Great trip – thanks for sharing and inspiring me…

That's truly amazing. Only scanned the word but the pictures say it all.
Fab! Thanks for putting that up.

Wow! What an adventure, well done 🙂

So, as a matter of interest, what percentage of it were you actually able to ride?

That is one terrifying track though with the sheer drop 😯

Thanks for posting, you're bound to be inspiring others!

That's a cracking post, and very inspiring.

Looks excellent – proper adventure stuff.

Fantastic report. Well done Alpin.

Buy you a drink if I see yu!

C

yea 😀

proper adventure……………you lucky lads's….. 8)

Nice one, alpin.

Looks like you did a rather more "hardcore" version of what we did last week. We booked budget hotels each night – hotels which, for a reasonable fee, took our luggage on to the next hotel each night 🙂

Our route was Gais, Switzerland to Lake Como, Italy.

Out of 5 riders, we only had one puncture all week and that was overnight in the garage, so an easy fix!

For your next one, see if you can fit in the Septimerpass. Absolutely incredible.

Still sorting the photos, maybe I should do a similar post to yours.

me you one too, Chris.

CG… most of it was rideable as long as it wasn't too steep. my 2-step doesn't really step and more so climbing with 160mm isn't much fun. there were a few sections where it was easier and safer to push. if you break a bone up there you are technically gefickt.

i think we only carried down on the first day once over the Schrofenpass; because of the rain the rocks were slippery as wet eels and we didn't fancy suffering a major cock-up on the first day.

DezB, yes. post up. would be nice to read of other peoples experiences in English instead of German.

Brilliant! I don't know a single one of the places you passed through, but the feeling of going from A to B via a very epic C is pretty universal i think!

I do find punctuating the riding with the occasional smoke'n'view to be a very pleasant way to pass the miles 🙂

Fancy a three week scottish coast-to-coast-to-coast next year? it'll be a walk in the park for you…

That looks wicked! I'm extremely, extremely jealous.

Nice story, looks like a great trip. Inspiring stuff. Thanks for taking the time to write it up.

13thfloor, i'd love to but I'm in germany. it is a shame that i've seen so little of the UK from the saddle. pics in the recent ST mag from scotland look great.

everyone else, you're welcome and thankyou.

Awesomesauce!

uber jealous.

looks like an awesome trip.
i want some of those riding boots, they look perfect for the job.

Stunning. Great post Alpin, great post.

Great write up and like the details (blood and wild strawberries!). Cheers for taking the time to share your trip.

again, thankyou. you're also most welcome as long as one of you returns the favour and writes up one of their epics….

i really enjoyed writing it up infact and just had another read through and realised there are quite a few grammatical errors and some bits aren't overly clear, but i think you get the gist of what went on.
sitting now in a very wet munich and wishing somewhat that i was further south…

as an aside, should i have offered the story to the mag? picked up this months at the station and there is a similar, but shorter story in there. just thinking aloud….

I really want to do something like this again.

Great read alpin. I've got a job out there for 4 months this summer (German/Austrian border) and this has just made me even more excited to get out there. Thanks.

Ed