Wolves and bears are on my mind as I unroll my sleeping bag under a tree in the semi-darkness. I am in a deep valley at the southern end of the Abruzzo National Park, somewhere between Rome and Naples. The two metropolises are barely a hundred kilometres apart, but the mountain range of the Monti della Meta could hardly feel more lonely and rugged. Abruzzo is not the cosy Alps. Everything here is a little darker and lonelier. I zip up my sleeping bag and click back into the forum: Again, no useful route tips from the forum community. The sounds of animals are coming from the black forest. I quickly put on the audio book before I get really creeped out.
Perhaps I should have done a bit more route planning. As it is, the start of my little Abruzzo adventure is an unfriendly mixture of carrying uphill and pushing downhill. The paths here are too neglected, there are too many dead trees in the forest and too few people out and about. The crossing at Forca Resuni looked really good on the OSM map. But pixels on a smartphone often only tell half the truth. In the picturesque mountain village of Civitella Alfedana on Lago di Barrea, I lick my proverbial wounds in a small gelateria and resolve to be a little more careful over the next few days. Spontaneous bike trips are great, but a few minutes of online research never hurt anyone.
"Sitting under the canopy of a locked ski hut while a thunderstorm breaks over me. The thunder is so loud that I cover my ears."
By bike somehow through the centre of the Italian boot - I hadn't given much more thought to the route of the tour so far. There are plenty of mountains here. It should be possible to find something nice with as many fun trail descents as possible. So I spend the second evening under the stars with my smartphone on the internet and read up a bit first.
The research is promptly rewarded, because unlike the German bike community, the Italian one is not stingy with trail tips: On the way north via Monti Vitello and Sirente, one entertaining single trail seems to follow the next. Only interrupted by delicious cappuccino and pizza stops in small villages along the way. Although I am equipped to sleep outside on this tour, and nights in the open air are always something very special, I prefer to leave the food and refreshments to the Italian professionals.
On the fourth day, I reach the Campo Imperatore high plateau at the foot of the highest mountains in Abruzzo. Mountain bikers have also been spotted on the summit of the Gran Sasso (2912 m). Rumour has it that the descent is a dream come true for technical bike mountaineers. However, I quickly bury any thoughts in this direction at the sight of the snow-covered steep flanks of the almost-three-thousander. Even deep in the south, the conditions are not always ideal for alpine experiments. At high altitudes, crampons and ice axes are still the order of the day.
Fortunately, the lower half of the Gran Sasso massif also has plenty to keep spoilt mountain bikers busy: the endless singletrail descent from the Rifugio Duca degli Abruzzi down to the village of Pietracamela is one of the area's great highlights and has nothing to hide from the dream trails of the Alps. I experience long flowing stretches over panoramic ridges, panoramic views of steep mountain peaks with vertical rock faces, a wide valley with an ideally constructed hiking trail and then jungle-like Abruzzo forest lower down. I would come back here again just for this tour.
More and more medieval castle ruins and mountain villages such as Castel del Monte, Calascio and Santo Stefano di Sessanio are now providing variety. The devastating earthquake in L'Aquila six years ago left this region badly affected. Many of the houses are still uninhabitable today and are only maintained with elaborate corsets made of steel and wood - an open-air museum with a creepy factor. Nevertheless, there are friendly people, cosy pubs and small bed and breakfasts everywhere. My thin sleeping mat soon remains rolled up more and more often.
A little further north, I cross the flower-strewn fields of Castellucio and enter the next landscape highlight: the Monti Sibillini National Park. Two-thousand metre peaks surround the Valle del Lago di Pilato and, according to the smartphone map, two descents could be worthwhile here - both hits. It's astonishing that this area is still relatively unknown among German bikers. Italian cyclists, on the other hand, are hard at work and even add almost derelict trails to the OpenStreetMap maps. Usually even with a difficulty rating for the single trails. My experimental just-follow-the-nose biking almost becomes an easy exercise with guaranteed fun.
On one of these forgotten paths over Monte Banditello, I am accompanied by an affectionate shepherd dog who, despite numerous attempts, refuses to be persuaded to return to his village. I have no objection to the four-legged company. Especially as the dog seems to know his way around. Even where grass has long since grown over the path, he trots along purposefully. Only once does he get nervous and growl: a herd of wild boar gallops past us less than 50 metres away. But at the end of the day - fifty kilometres further on - I worry that I have unwittingly kidnapped a shepherd's companion. The inhabitants of the small village of Foce rush to help and make long phone calls to the neighbouring valley to track down the owner after all. He brings his unfaithful friend back home by motorbike the next morning. Problem solved, dog happy. The people here not only have a heart for bikers, but obviously also for their animals.
The next mountain on my tour through the centre of Italy is already waiting: Monte Sibilla. On a clear day, you can see the Adriatic Sea to the east and the Mediterranean to the west from its summit. Unfortunately, it's hazy today and I can only see wafts of mist. This makes the search for the right descent into Val Tenna more exciting than necessary. The path is apparently rarely used and is sometimes no more than an indistinct track through steep meadows and gravel fields. But once the initial difficulties have been overcome, this descent also turns out to be a challenging but easy-to-ride dream trail down into a fascinating, secluded valley. At the end, the L'Orrida Gola del Infernaccio is a highlight for gorge lovers. The rock faces here stand several hundred metres high above the canyon and leave little room for the cart track along the raging stream.
On the eastern side of Monte Sibilla, I trundle into the rifugio of the same name towards the afternoon. It is one of the few serviced mountain huts in Abruzzo. I leave my sleeping bag rolled up again. With a half-board price of 25 to 35 euros plus 10 to 20 euros for a five-course dinner, I prefer cosy accommodation with a roof over my head. I order a cappuccino and share the sun terrace with the landlady, her grandfather, four kittens, two dogs and the house horse. The latter would clearly like to join us at the table, but is repeatedly sent back to the stable with a pat. Because the atmosphere is so nice, I spend two days at Rifugio Sibilla.
Just half a day's ride further on, I find a small trail centre in the Sibillini mountains near the village of Ussita. Cable cars and built downhill trails await me here. There are also some interesting-looking day tours dotted around the centre. However, I'm soon drawn further north, so I end the Abruzzo crossing with a wonderful single trail from Monte Serra Santa down to the village of Gualdo Tadino. The word "flow" was probably invented for this trail. From here, I continue via Rome to Elba, Cinque Terre and Finale Ligure in the Maritime Alps and then on to Lake Garda - but that's another story.
A map with the marked route including the extension to Lake Garda is available at www.alpenzorro.de
"My summary of Abruzzo: a biker's dream! The trails are almost always flowy and fun. The only thing I could have left at home was the outdoor sleeping stuff. Abruzzo is perfectly rugged."
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