If I were asked to talk about the five most magical moments of my biker life in front of a crackling open fire, I wouldn't have to think twice. I could think of three on the first weekend in May 1994. I had travelled to Lake Garda, where the premiere of the BIKE Festival was celebrated in Riva - "Europe's first big fat tyre festival". I knew that there were mountains where people rode mountain bikes from the BIKE magazine, which enjoyed the status of holy writ in scene circles. My Klein Attitude in the Moonride Linear Fade colour scheme was fully equipped and was one of the most luxurious and expensive bikes you could buy at the time. Nevertheless, the small chainring had remained largely unused. The biggest executioner of my topographically not too exciting home town was a railway overpass. Shifting gears? Not necessary. The rock faces that surround northern Lake Garda like walls made a deep impression on me.
Magical moment number one: A guy approached me on the festival site about my ratty little one. We struck up a conversation. Suddenly he said, pointing his index finger steeply skywards at the rock massif next to Riva: "The freaks, they ride around up there." The sentence literally blew me away. How the hell was it possible to ride a bike in this rugged rocky landscape? I was deeply impressed.
Magical moment number two followed the next day. I had arranged to meet up with a group of Berliners who wanted to cycle to the Tremalzo Pass. A tour from the Moser guidebook that almost everyone had at the time. I didn't know exactly where this pass was or what kind of pass it was. Nor was I in possession of a Moser guide. All I knew was: 2200 metres in altitude. No problem, I waved it off, because in my naive flatland way I assumed it would be a two-kilometre uphill stretch. Little did I know that metres in altitude meant vertical metres. 2200 metres straight up to the sky! It must have been somewhere between Riva and Pregásina. Me, close to the limit: "Hey, how much further is that?". Guy from Berlin, competently pressing on his Avocet altimeter: "We've got 300 metres of altitude now. Another nine, approximately."
Me, massively irritated: "Huh, but that was already much more than two kilometres." The brief introduction to the basics of touring theory by the Berliners left my psyche reeling. 2200 metres vertically! Oh God! Isn't that the ozone layer?
Magical moment number three: after hours of miserable slumber, more dead than alive, a glistening light suddenly appeared in front of us. It seemed to radiate directly out of the rock face. The hole in the ozone layer? "No," shouted the Berliners, no less exhausted than I was: that was the Tremalzo tunnel, the pass! I had seen my favourite band Throw that Beat live in the Dresden "Scheune". I had shaken hands with John Tomac at the World Cup race in Berlin. I'd made out with Manuela, the ratty bartender from the "Musikcafé Miami". But this was the best yet. And yes, I would even say it was like being reborn. This view! This feeling of having achieved something incredible! The blatant eruption of euphoria that simply blew away the exhaustion. It was crazy. I had a Klein attitude. I was wearing the coolest scene clothes. But when I looked into the hole, I realised: now I'm a real mountain biker. It wasn't a tour in the conventional sense. It was something you'd only really seen on television - an expedition. North Pole, Himalayas, moon, Tremalzo. Something like that. I bought a Moser BIKE Guide the same day. It contained a picture of the Tremalzo Tunnel with the wonderful and true sentence: "The light at the end of the tunnel never dies."
Even today, more than two decades later, the Tremalzo ascent is still one of the most impressive experiences a mountain biker can have.
The Tremalzo is not just a summit, it is a myth. Hardly any other tour combines the contrasts of charm and toughness as much as Elmar Moser's "Tremalzo 4" route. It has everything that makes biking so great. Climbs, rest stops, trail descents, insane panoramas and, and, and. The general route has remained the same over the years. The key data hasn't changed either: 56 kilometres and 2276 metres in altitude. Nevertheless, there are a few small things that have changed compared to the Moser Guide version.
The old Ponale road, which winds its way from Riva to the mountain village of Pregásina, was still asphalted at the beginning of the 1990s, but was already closed to motorised traffic. After a landslide that made the popular road impassable for years, it has now been completely redesigned. The gravelled trail zigzags wildly uphill through tunnels as if on a terrace. The view of Lake Garda is always at its best. The new panorama bar (cocktail menu, sparkling chill-out beats, hipster furniture) at the Pregásina/Lake Ledro junction, which is run in the style of a trendy Berlin club, is best left to Tremalzo ambitionists. Later, on the return journey, you will pass by here again. And then the bar is the perfect place for the final nightcap.
In the mountain village of Pregásina, however, you should take a short break. Almost 600 metres in altitude have already made your legs a little weary. And to ensure that the remaining metres in altitude do not turn into a disaster, it is advisable to replenish your fluid and carbohydrate reserves. Either at the "Rosalpino" hotel just below the village, or in the classic way at the Hotel Panorama, the undisputed biker hotspot on Lake Garda. And there they are. Masses of bikers. Their exhausted legs stretched out casually. They lounge there and look happy. Chef Dolores Toniatti has her hands full trying to feed the hungry pack. An apple spritzer, a cappuccino, maybe a plate of spaghetti. Then a refill of bottles at the village fountain. And on we go. Out of the hustle and bustle. Into solitude. Most of those who wind their way up the Ponale road return after the Pregásina stop. Not everyone would manage the steep ramps to Malga Palaer anyway. The road rises up in front of the front wheel at a gradient of 20 per cent in places. A brief pause at the memorial stone commemorating the first BIKE Magazine test in 1989. Then you have to make a decision at Malga Palaer. Either pass the hut on the right and take the technical trail up towards Passo Rocchetta. Or pass the hut on the left and push up the steep, blocked path, which is shorter but also quite a slog. The view from Passo Rocchetta to Lake Garda, which sparkles 1100 metres below, will blow you away, no matter which side you come from. This intermediate plateau alone is worth every effort.
The following, partly exposed traverse along the mountain flank used to be the border between Austria and Italy. A spectacular section without many metres in altitude. And now it's time for a rest. Either in the self-catering hut just before the turn-off to Lake Ledro, where you can choose from water, beer, wine or coffee for a donation to the cash register. Or in the serviced hut at Passo Nota, whose landlord has decorated the ascent with shell casings and rocket launchers - in memory of the front line that once ran here. Inside, it is extremely cosy. On chilly days, the fireplace crackles. On warm days, you can chill out on the sun terrace. But be careful! Don't hang out for too long. Because the legendary Tremalzo road starts right at the foot of the hut. A nine-kilometre-long gravel swirl that becomes massively brittle towards the top. While you can still pedal gently through the hairpin bends at the bottom, good riding technique is required in places in the upper section. Deep gravel, edges and loose stones suck every last ounce of energy out of your legs. It's crazy that cars were still allowed to drive here until a few years ago, which of course often ended in drama. There, finally, the tunnel! Unfortunately not the mythical one. It only appears a few bends further up. It suddenly appears out of nowhere in front of you. What a moment! One last, brief look at the southern flank of the Tremalzo. Then off through the cold, dark hole and marvelled at the north side. In the distance: snow-covered Alpine giants. Three hairpin bends further down: The Tremalzo hut. A pasta stop is practically obligatory: landlord Marco Faustini and his dog "Blond" greet every biker like a close family member they haven't seen for a long time.
Now comes the descent, but not without fattening your legs with further metres of altitude in between. From the hut, follow the tarmac road for around two kilometres until you reach the "Garage Tremalzo" on the right-hand side. Turn right there and follow the gravel road uphill until the actual descent begins. Now you have to decide. Either turn right directly to Lake Ledro. Or keep left at the fork and follow the trail towards Tiarno. The trail is great to ride (especially with a full-suspension bike) and turns into a rough gravel track further down, which is also manageable for bikers without professional riding technique. If you choose this option, follow the cycle path in the valley to Lake Ledro. If you choose the direct route to Lake Ledro, keep right along the lakeshore once you reach the bottom. Then the grand finale: from Lake Ledro onto the Ponale road and back to Riva. But - very important - don't forget the final nightcap in the Panorama Bar. A refreshing drink, blood pressure-reducing beats, unobstructed views of the Monte Baldo massif bathed in warm evening light. And all this with the cosy tingling of exhaustion in your legs. If this bar had existed at the first BIKE Festival, it would certainly have been my magical moment number four. It's amazing what you can experience on a mountain bike in a single day. I don't know how many times I've ridden the Tremalzo Tour. But I can still hardly believe the abundance of charm.
You can read the detailed Tremalzo report in BIKE 7/2017 - on newsstands from 6 June. You can also read the complete issue in the BIKE app (iTunes and Google Play) or in the DK shop order:
