Table of contents

• Roadstory: a crazy idea On the way to Monte Grappa
• A crazy idea
• On the way to Monte Grappa
• Arrival in Bassano del Grappa
• Info

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On the way to Monte Grappa

Roadstory: a crazy idea
On the way to Monte Grappa

The grappa bottle was empty. We had four days to get a new one from Italy. A road story.

Rolf Henniges

01/21/2010

A crazy idea

At some point you forget to count. It’s been 18 or 19 months since our last tour? Anyway, two would be too many. But what do you want to do? As a slave to everyday life? Andreas and I have been planning for a long time to just drive away again. Something’s gotten in the way for ages. Child suddenly sick, child suddenly there, bank appointment, parents visiting, expanding rooms, digging up the garden – something is always there.

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Joint events are only reduced to swimming, cycling or barbecuing. Like that evening in May 2009. “Damn”, says Andreas, “the bottle of grappa is empty. I’ll bring you another one next time.”

I look at the label: Nardini Aquavite Riserva. “It’s not so easy to get one here.” We sit by the campfire, sparks fly, the children are in bed, the women in front of the television. “If we were 20 now, we would just get one from Italy. A real. Factory material, so to speak.” The wood patters, minutes pass. We look at each other. At some point there are no more excuses. You shouldn’t always postpone life until the next day. “Tomorrow morning sharp nine”, says Andreas, “four days should be enough.” I suggest: “Hand on it!”

It’s raining at nine. I look at the tires of my Suzuki Gladius: Dunlop Sportmax Qualifier. A rubber that loves moisture as much as a fish loves land. “No excuses”, says Andreas. Bad tires, bad weather? “Think about earlier”, he says. And I think back to the many XT tours together: no ABS, no chassis, no brakes. Alps extreme. When driving downhill sharply, you could pull the brake lever up to the handlebars after the third turn. So what?

603 kilometers one way from the front door near Stuttgart to the mountain top of Monte Grappa near Bassano, the city where we want to buy the bottle, reports Google. When you exclude motorways. And that’s what we will do: across the Alp, the Lechtal Alps, past the Dolomites and into the Vicentine Alps. It is public holiday traffic and there are a lot of bikers out and about.

A squadron of new BMW machines is approaching us near Gomadingen. They don’t say hello back. Is it because of the petite gladius? Zwiefalten on the Alb, finally the drizzle stops. Bright spots to the south. The clouds, a melange of gray tones, the asphalt dried up, far on the horizon, hope for warmth glows. Bad Buchau, Bad Wurzach, Isny ​​- the cloud cover is slowly getting gaps. Finally Sun. From Hindelang you go over the Oberjoch Pass to the Hahntenn Joch.

Overview: trips of the MOTORRAD action team

Henniges

Bridge over the Brenta near Valstagna – from here one of the most breathtaking passes winds towards Asiago.

A sign stops us there: “Winter closure from the top of the pass” is clearly emblazoned on the signpost. Right next to it the note: “14 tons”. “What now?”, says Andreas, “we’re lying underneath it.” Are the signs actually related to each other? A couple of bikers come down the mountain, we stop them, want to know if they are coming from the other side. “No chance”, says a guy at a KTM Supercompetition, “the snow is meters high.”

It’s mid-May, I’ll take it from him. We turn in the direction of Flexen-, Arlberg- and Reschenpass. A construction site in the tunnel stops the traffic. Countless motorcyclists jostle for pole position in the queue. We feel like part of an invasion. Nothing for us, drivers with boy scout thoughts. The Stilfser Joch is also still closed, so we end up in Kastelbell in the evening somewhere near Merano. Small town, small room, nice little bar, wood-fired pizza. View of the valley, where thousands of fruit trees are kissed by the silvery tails of the water cannons. When I ask the young woman who brings us the pizza where what’s going on today, she starts to laugh. She laughs while serving, laughs as she walks back and is still laughing in the kitchen minutes later.

When she saw us the next morning, she started laughing again, shook her head and echoed: “Where is something going on here?…?” As I continue my journey, I ponder the trigger for their cheerfulness. Is there really nothing going on here, or do I look like I can’t get rid of anything? We break our resolution and briefly hit the motorway near Bozen. Melt water rages in the Adige and Isario rivers. At Bozen Nord we leave the train to satisfy our boy scouts’ hunger: A small, magically lonely street winds its way up from Prado with many bends. Close enough to touch, yet a good 15 kilometers as the crow flies, the 2564 meter high Sciliar stands out from the powdered peaks. A gigantic panorama that lures you to take a break.

We set out for moments like this. Water bottle, sausage, cheese, bread out. Gevespert is on a stump. Silence sags over us like a fluffy blanket. We are both over 40. Like so many of our contemporaries, they have to meet deadlines and commitments. But it almost seems as if this tour, these four free days were a massive hole punched in our well-planned, rushed existence. “You know”, Andreas squeezes out next to the cigarette, “it doesn’t really matter whether they sell the stuff on Monte Grappa or not. It’s good to have a goal. But it’s even more important to just set off.”

On the way to Monte Grappa

Henniges

Our goal is exactly where the road runs like it comes out of the mustard tube.

We screw our way up through the airy trees. Niger Pass is written on a sign. Then this little path joins the country road 241. We roll over the Klarer Pass on partly large asphalt and find ourselves in the midst of dozens of bikers who are apparently all on their way to the Dolomites. And stroll instead of driving. A parade. Group travel, pilgrimage. No more fun.

Our tanks are almost empty. It’s noon in Italy, gas station attendants have their siesta and refueling with a card is sometimes as safe as predicting the lottery numbers. We fish the last cash reserves out of our pockets, pump the tanks to the brim and after a huge portion of penne al arrabiata we decide not to follow the mainstream towards Pordoi Pass, but to ski in Moena and take the small Luisa Pass with 2250 meters of altitude.

Henniges

Worth seeing: fortifications on Monte Grappa.

But it’s tricky: we’ve been roaming the Alps for 25 years, and despite immense experience, the same things still happen: We can’t find the entrance, follow the dreamy country road 346 to the San Pellegrino Pass over the picturesque Valtes Pass. Then loneliness spits us out again. On the well-paved Rolle Pass, we are suddenly surrounded by dozens of bikers again, and only 40 kilometers to the south we are alone again. It is now 6 p.m..

Looking for the entrance to the road that should lead us to our destination, we wander through Seren del Grappa. It’s a wonderful lunatic – rattling vesps, rattling apes, old people dressed in black with deep swaths of wisdom on their faces on ailing wooden benches, next to raging, dark curly children playing football. Blooming gardens behind crooked, decrepit stone houses under a honey-colored sun that spreads its soft light like a gentle gift. A place that defies time. Tourist free. Remote. Self-assured. Like a lonely island where the feeling of constancy can be felt in every little corner. A piece of Italy as I know it from films from the 1960s. The locals are completely taken aback when we ask for directions to Monte Grappa. What do you want there, is written invisibly on her forehead.

And vibrates again in the singsong of her answer: “Since questa parte.” That way. A tiny road meanders through the trees uphill. Erosion has gnawed at it, every two or three kilometers signs warn of caution, potholes, landslides, construction work everywhere.

Nasty grit, which now, at this time of day, is hardly recognized as such on the rough asphalt. It is one of those streets, the end of which is usually marked by a massive barrier. In this case, however, it ultimately rewards us with a spectacular view. In the northern distance, the peaks of the Dolomites push into the dark blue horizon, to the south the Venetian lowlands spread out. A small path leads to a parking lot where we leave the bikes to climb the last meters of Monte Grappa on steps.

Arrival in Bassano del Grappa

Henniges

Magnificent view of the Alps. The tour is simply enjoyable.

1742 meters above sea level. No breeze, no smog. When we step onto the monumental war memorial from the 1930s on the summit, life stops. We are silent for minutes. “Let’s not go down to town, but stay here somewhere”, says Andreas. 30 minutes later our bikes are in front of the Rifugio Scarpon hostel, 1650 meters high, right on the summit. A perfect destination: gigantic view, glowing sunset, good food, cold beer, delicious grappa, no more appointments. When we finally reach Bassano del Grappa at noon the following day via the much better developed southern pass road, we can hardly make up our minds: Almost on every other corner there are stills that specialize in grappa.

Two stowed bottles later we are on our way north again. In the following months, Andreas will often talk about the one and a half day long journey home: “Do you remember this incredibly steep, small pass, the tightest serpentines, practically carved into the rock face, which led from Valstagna to the Asiago plateau? Or continuing on this dizzying country road between Asiago and Trento, where there was no straight line for 80 kilometers?” I always nod in agreement, glad to have seized the opportunity. And lift the little glass in which the delicious grappa sloshes. Exactly. Bottom up! We have to go again soon.

Info

Drawing: Werel

The Monte Grappa Tour: Duration: 4 days; Distance covered: 1460 kilometers.

Shopping tour in the Vicentier Alps – all around Monte Grappa there are small side streets in a grandiose landscape.

Little grappa customer
Grappa is an exclusively Italian spirit that is obtained by direct distillation of naturally pure pomace (skins of pressed grapes) and contains between 40 to 50 percent alcohol by volume. It makes up only one thousandth of all spirits consumed worldwide. Around 40 percent of all grappas are produced in the area around Monte Grappa. A detour to the local distilleries is not only worthwhile for gourmets, because the grappa there usually only costs half the price that is charged in Germany.

Monte Grappa
At 1,742 meters above sea level, it is one of the highest mountains in the Vicentine Alps and is mostly passable between the end of April and the end of October. Among the paragliders, the mountain is an ideal starting point for cross-country flights and is very famous for its good thermals. In the 1930s, the fascists erected a very imposing memorial on the summit for the soldiers who lost their lives here in the many battles during the First World War. From the south a relatively well-paved road leads to the summit, while the route from the north is very unmanageable and narrow and has less good surface.

Bassano del Grappa
The 40,000-inhabitant city at the foot of Mt. Grappa is a picturesque place with a beautiful landmark: a 700-year-old wooden bridge that spans the Brenta River. Around the Brenta Bridge there are countless restaurants and distilleries that serve excellent grappa. Tip: Visit the Grappa Museum in the Poli distillery, address: Via Gamba 6, telephone (0039) 0424/524426 and www.poligrappa.com, open daily between 9 a.m. and 7.30 p.m., free entry.

overnight stay
Two tips near the Reschenpass: Garni Claudia, I-39028 Schlanders-Silandro, Moargasse 19, telephone (0039) 0473/730303, www.garni-claudia.it, single rooms from 30 euros, double rooms from 25 euros / p.p. and Familienhotel Steinberger, I-39028 Schlanders-Silandro, Hauptstrabe 27, Telephone (0039) 0473/730314 (www.hotel-steinberger.com) double rooms from 39 euros / p.p. Overnight stay on Monte Grappa: Rifugion Scarpon at 1650 meters above sea level, half board with dinner and breakfast 40 euros / p.p..

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