After we’d recovered from our coyote-yelling endorphin high, we started cycling down the other side of the pass. We bumped into two German couples, coming from the other direction, both asking how much further to the top and a huge look of relief quickly washing over their faces as we informed them that they were almost there. And even better, would be greeted with some pretty amazing glacier views.
They’d ended up having to pretty much walk up the hill for the best part of 5km, as the ripio was too dangerous. And with a tourist spot promising an enchanted forest, they’d had to navigate an array of cars and tourist vans as well.
The rain clouds were threatening overhead so after swapping terrain and other info / tips, for what was coming up for each of us, we continued down the pass. There was no quickness from my perspective though and instead, I went at what felt like absolute snail-pace. Feet out of my cleats and hands firming on the brakes, trying to navigate the crazy ripio. Keen to stay upright today!
Halfway down the hill, a motorcyclist stopped me to ask how much further to go until the top of the hill and if the terrain was the same. It was quickly becoming a standard question by people coming in the other direction from two-wheeled friends!
I reached the bottom and as I wiped my face, I felt like I’d just stepped off a commute on the London underground for a split second! The layer of dirt caked on my face had gone to another level.
We spotted the same motorcyclists again. They’d decided that the ripio and hill were too much for their motorbikes, with the back tyres flipping out too regularly. They decided that the tarmac, which was to be the terrain for about 200km, would be a much better and more enjoyable option!
Bicycles = 1, motorbikes = 0 ;)
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