Tag Archives: Alta Badia

After 6 solid of months of work, shooting more than we have ever shot, traveling, daily packing and unpacking of bags, settling into a new home, and building business number two – we have started noticing a slowing down of the energy. Typically this feeling comes in late October, pre Autumn break. So, with great delight, we have been taking some time to ourselves before the fall colors come and we go back to work.

Andreas and Janine getting ready to drop to the Scotoni Hut

Our friend Andreas Irsara invited us to enjoy one of his favorite trail runs, together the three of us hopped onto the Alta Via 1 via the Capanna Alpina and spent two hours winding our way amongst towers and massive walls. Andreas pointed out a 200 meter deep cave where hundreds of ancient bear skeletons were found, apparently the cave was a destination point for the bears to call it quits. Unfortunately, this variey of bear as a whole called it quits, they are no more.

His next item to point out was the menu of the Rifugio Scotoni where we ended our run. The hut is famous for a platter of goodies straight from the grill, various meats, vegetables and a ball of cheesey polenta the likes of which I have never loved so much.

Not a bad spot to stumble upon in the backcountry – the Scotoni Hut, outside San Cassiano

Janine – Pre 

Janine – Post Lunch

After lunch as we sat hoping that the coffee would speed up the early stages of digestion, Andreas, in one perfect line, described life here:

“Now do you see why the area around the hut is so big – lots of places to lay down after lunch.”

Quintessentially Italian.

Next up was a big road ride. Together with two Italian friends, Giorgio and Umberto, we spent nearly 5 hours linking most of the big, famous Dolomite passes; the Sellaronda and the Falzarego. On what may have been the best weather day of the year, the three of us enjoyed roads full of cyclists and few cars.
After riding these roads now for over a year, I am still in awe of the beauty and take nothing for granted. Passing through villages, I still marvel at the old houses, the flowers that everyone proudly decorates their homes with and of course the incredible number of people that wave or give thumbs up as you roll through.
On the passes, cyclists are approached by tourists wishing to ask what it is like to ride up the passes, and how fast we go down. They ask to lift our bikes, and laugh when they feel how light a carbon fiber bike is. They pat us on the backs, give an “Allez”, a “Hopp Hopp” or the local “Dai”. The culture understands the bike culture – for an American, this is always special.
Each pass has its hairpins numbered, 27 up the Pordoi, then 33 down the other side, each hairpin like a powder turn for a skier, the roads are banked perfectly and the bike flies through the apex – for me nothing beats this feeling, to be amongst friends, wheel to wheel, the sounds, the other rider to put things into perspective, makes it even better.

“Ciccione” on the Passo Sella