My 72 Hour Motorcycle Run to the Alps

From the get-go, I was in for a challenge. I rode close to 900 miles in a single adventure while straddling a Ducati 1098—it was a first for me. Was it visceral fun for a Ducatisti like me? Yes! Touring a Ducati superbike is comparable to using a 25-year Scotch as paint thinner, so why not? In my pre-departure glee, I surmised if you're going to crush hydrocarbons, then you got to get on with it with whatever you have in your garage. That's how I began my 72-hour Motorcycle Run to the Alps...

Eyes Bigger than my Stomach?

The Plan for my journey was simple: Friday morning depart Stuttgart with my chin on the tank and head south to Austria. I would wave and smile as I pass by Lichtenstein, and then arrive in Switzerland to complete the first leg of my route. Saturday morning, I would travel through the land of expensive watches and pocket knives—head east over the mountains into Italy and then down to lake Como and say hi to George Clooney. Sunday morning I would infiltrate back up into Germany, zooming through the Black Forest and onward to home base in Stuttgart, Germany. The plan also included no bike mounted GPS or high-speed touring set ups, and no extended range fuel tank to my disposal.

Armed with a strong back and wrists, I decided to do the trip in a three day weekend—only navigating off of an iPhone 5 that was stored in my side bags.

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Il Primo Giorno

On Friday morning I spent 30 minutes installing some soft shell side bags to the 1098, however, in hindsight I would definitely suggest detailed preparation and planning before attempting to mount non-1098 specific touring bags (I didn’t).The process included bungee cords, several variations of Fastex buckles, and a colorful assortment of four letter words.I eventually found a way to get it all cobbled together with confidence, ensuring it wouldn’t fly off at 130 mph.

The last road trip I took was aboard a 2013 Hypermotard—so fun. Once on the autobahn with no speed restrictions, I ended up making out with my front tire to mitigate the rushing head winds. I figured on a 1098 I at least had a windscreen to ease the strain of any autobahn headwinds.

On Friday morning, the conditions were perfect—it's amazing how I managed to teleport to Lichtenstein by that afternoon. The German autobahn is just lovely, and when I reached Switzerland, the view was nothing short of breathtaking. After a few hours of taking in some nature, frequent fuel stops, and roadside photos, I reached the village of Davos. By this point, I was happy I reached my destination on time and without incident. The quaint little Swiss village I stayed at was cute, yet expensive, and the hostel had free WI-Fi and friendly service, but no garage—so I parked my bike within a locked gate at the main entrance. I enjoyed a “Mexican” pizza along with a few Corona's (by the way, seven Swiss Franc's for a Corona should be illegal) that first night in Davos.

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Giorno Due

Early Saturday morning, I woke up to a full plate. The day started with the route up to the Umbrail pass, riding through the Swiss National Park (it's a wonder that must be witnessed in person.) Eighteen kilometers north of the Italian border sits the village of Val Müstair. This village has only (give or take) 350 permanent residents since before the turn of the 20^th century—it’s the definition of “in the middle of nowhere.” This really puts in context how remote the region is, especially for it being in central Europe.Coming from California I haven't felt so alone in the outdoors since my days of patrolling through the Nevada desert with a rucksack on my back. The roads through this region is amazing, and the grass is a green that I've never seen before (Note: I didn’t spot one speed camera in the area and I haven’t received any horsepower bills...yet.)

The Umbrail Pass at 2500 meters above sea level is the highest paved road in Switzerland and crosses the Italian border connecting to the west side of the Stelvio summit. The landscape was so amazing it was hard to concentrate on the road under me. Speaking of the road, it requires keen attention to the task at hand as there were many things to run into—looking through your turn has a new meaning here. Cyclist, tractors, cars and other motorcyclist were also everywhere on the twisting, narrow roads up to the summit.

Unbeknownst to me, the weekend I chose to ride up to the summit was a big day—all the local farmers were crossing the summit on their tractors. Fitting five people with funny hats on 50's era farm equipment, all while ascending 9,000 feet up and over a mountain road, was all the rage on Saturday. I also wasn't prepared for miles of dirt roads and following seas of cyclists, but it was an interesting ride nonetheless.

In this region of the world, there is steep grades and very few fueling opportunities, and since I had a thirsty diva between my legs, I made the point of stopping to get gas when I saw it. The route kept me engaged for the ascent—it had many hairpins along the way, and it also had various low speed turns mixed with on-coming vehicles. By 1400 on Saturday, I finally reached the Stelvio Summit and the incredibly small village that’s atop…CONTINUE READING

CONTINUE READING: For more photos and the rest of the Run to the Alps

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The Dreisprachenspitze (aka the Three Language Peak) stands above the Stelvio National Park and the summit road. From this point, there were some fun options to choose from. I could ride down the north decent and enjoy 48 hairpin turns towards the village of Trafoi, Italy, or take the southern route down to Bormio. Initially riding both routes was not in the plan, but I had to get the experience. Looking from above, there were just too many twisty bits to pass up. I rode the northern route down and back, and by the afternoon, I was negotiating the amazing sweepers that lead south out of the pass to Bormio.