2025 European trip

[Rynglieder]

Day 6 Klumbach [D] > Spitzigsee [D] (c.220 miles)

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Having looked at the weather forecast over breakfast, I knew the little bit of blue sky above me as I rolled off the Taste Hotel car park in Klumbach was not going to be with me for the whole day. By my own standards, I had a longish ride ahead of me today and as rain was forecast, I decided to ditch two of my planned potential visits. The new plan was get onto the Autobahn and make a decision on the fly about a possible stop-off in Neuburg an der Donau.

I reached the [A9] within about 15 minutes and settled in to some fully focused riding. I cleared Nurenburg, still in sunshine and with a fuel stop and coffee stop to keep me attentive. Although the shower clouds were starting to brew, it still looked as if it would be favourable for a detour to Neuburg an der Donau.

It was looking particularly dark in the direction of travel and sure enough after exiting the motorway my approach was greeted by a very sharp shower, but this had cleared by the time I pulled into my spot on the car park by the River Donau (or Danube if you are more familiar with its downstream name).

As I started my walk, I was initially drawn up the hill toward the castle where I found an appealing old town square which was worthy of pulling the camera out for but not much life, or any prospect of my next coffee. I found that and the cash machine I needed in the more modern part of the town back down the hill sandwiched between the river and castle.

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After wriggling my way out of town, a series of open, but busy roads lead me back to the [A9] which I joined in the direction of Munich. There is little to say about my next couple of hours on the bike; Autobahn, rain, congestion, rain, filtering, rain, cigarette break, rain, congestion just about covers it. None of this run was particularly quick and the [99] around Munch was decidedly turgid. This was not really a shock; I've been round here about ten times in the car or on the bike and the memory of a 37km queue one dark February evening is still securely deposited in the memory bank.

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At least, as I broke off on the [A8] in the direction of Salzburg it started to ease up a bit and the first sight of Alpine peaks on the horizon hinted that I was getting somewhere. At about 16:00 I escaped the motorway and began a more interesting ride through southern Bavaria toward the Alpine foot-hills, there were now a few bright spells as a bonus. It didn't take long to reach the lakeside town of Schillersee where I took the opportunity to dismount for a short while and contemplate the lake, cigarette in hand.

I was looking forward to the next part of the run, albeit it was not far. I'd done it a few times in the car on winter breaks, but the curvy climb ahead really deserved a bike. Just beyond Schillersee a right- turn off the [307] leads up a minor dead-end road to Spitzingsee, a group of hotels and tourist facilities huddled around a small Alpine lake, seemingly waiting for the winter when the skiers arrive and the tills start ringing. The road up is actually very good and well surfaced, but you have to zoom in quite a bit on Google Maps to find it, as it is not really a highway of any significance unless you happen to have the longing to go to Spitzingsee.

It is not a long ride up there, but enjoyable, with odd glimpses through the fir trees down to the Bavarian Plain as I wound my way up, through a short tunnel near the summit and just a couple of hundred metres on to the Hotel Grundle Alm where the bike was pitched up and the panniers decanted for my night's stay. The receptionist handed me my key and said I had a "lake view room".  The description was a bit of a stretch, if you give the photo a severe zooming, you can just see it between the tree in the middle and the white building on the left. Still. I wasn't too dis-chuffed, there was a balcony where I could watch the clouds ribbon across the mountains and a bar downstairs with seating under the overhanging eves where I could finish the day off with my beer out of the rain.

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Tomorrow would be the start of my Alpine voyage.

[Boomer]

It's not a proper trip if you don't have to use your gills at least once. 

[Rynglieder]

It's not a proper trip if you don't have to use your gills at least once. 

Quite right, I had no expectation of 18 dry days 

[Rynglieder]

Day 7 Spitzingsee [D] > Rangersdorf [A] (c. 170 miles).

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The view from my breakfast table confirmed the portentous weather app, it was going to be a wet start. Despite this, once I was clear of the car park I chose to have a little trundle alongside the lake to take a snap of the bike before hauling it round and setting off back down the nice twisty road to Schillersee, where I fuelled up and chucked a few more snacks in the case.

Another about-turn and I took the [307] on a south-easterly heading for my date with the Austrian border. Now this IS a good road to ride, the rain had knocked off and I was just left with a bit of dampness on the tarmac. There were ever shifting views of the cloud hanging around the pine forest clad peaks, the day was starting well. Just beyond Bayrischzell I came across a baffling road sign which indicated that I was OK to proceed in my current direction, but motorcycles were prohibited from travelling northwards. I've no idea what that could be about. Beyond the village of Tatzelwurm I turned in the direction of Oberaudorf, the road loses some of its width and smoothness, but remains pleasurable even if the throttle has to be treated with a bit more respect. Once I had reached the environs of Oberaudorf I rejoined main arterial roads for an easy but steady jaunt past the redundant border post and into Austria.

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Upon entering my fifth country on this trip at the town of Kufstein, I felt justified in popping the lid off a celebratory coffee at a handy Spar store before getting on with the next bit, which I knew from experience was going to be a bit of a come-down (literally) from the last hour and a half I had spent in the German mountains. Austria is a country of towns and cities set in river valleys, roads and urbanisation therefore track along these, and like my experience in Belgium and northern France the road network seems to be a series of straight roads with either towns or roundabouts every mile or so and it is difficult to get any rapid progress at legal speed limits. As I followed the [171] in the direction of Innsbruck, I did regret not hopping on the motorway for this section - neither option makes for a good motorcycle ride, but the motorway would have bought the attractive bits closer a little more swiftly.

Switching to the [169], the road ran through a less built-up valley, although there were high traffic volumes to keep progress in check. Finally, the slip off at Zell am Ziller manifested itself and I could start on the first proper mountain pass of this trip. The Gerlos Pass is a 69km toll road linking Zell am Ziller and Mittersil, I've done it in the car a couple of times and once (back in 2016) on the GSX1400 so I knew what to expect, it was just a question as to whether there would be any views given the cloud that was wrapped around the mountain tops.

It is a beautiful road, a few hairpins, a lot of gentle curves, interesting, but not too challenging – something that can be savoured without thinking about summiting because you really need to get off the bike. After a good ride, still climbing beyond the town of Gerlos lay the toll booths where I extracted €9 for the priviage of getting this far and down the other side. To be fair, the price charged is for a "day ticket", so once you have handed over the hard-earned, it is possible to spend the whole day practicing your moves if you are so inclined. I pulled up at the parking area just beyond the tollhouse to check my wallet was properly secure, clean the video camera lens of road spray and then took a photo of the bike.

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https://www.gerlosstrasse.at/en

The road then started to descend though the expected switchbacks and although I was totally content in riding, I could not resist another early stop to photograph the Krimml waterfall (Europe's highest) gushing down the mountain on the opposite side of the valley. Onward, through light rain I arrived in Mittersil where another coffee was procured from a Spar vending machine. I like a vending machine; you don't have to attempt to communicate with it in German.

From Mittersill I began to ride eastwards in the direction of Zell am See, along another valley floor with its string of small towns keeping speed in check. The on and off light rain was not problematical, but I did hope the low cloud was not going to spoil my view of the next mountain pass. Before too long I reached the turn southward for the [107] Großglockner Hochalpenstraße.

Initially, this road runs along another valley floor, but with fewer villages and a constant stream of motorcyclists assures of a decent biking road ahead. As it happens, I also knew this road from my return trip from Budapest on the GSX so there would be no disappointment. My previous run over (south to north) had been delayed as it was closed to motorcycles until they had cleared the snow – that was not going to be a problem today, it was way too warm.

By the time I reached the toll booth for this one, there were promising hints of blue sky and after handing over a hefty €35 for the pleasures ahead, went off in pursuit of the sunny bits. The official website will describe this road much more eloquently than I ever could. Suffice to say that many motorcyclists would have ridden it twice in the time I took to do it once; Not only am I naturally cautious as a rider, but there are just too many places to stop and soak up the landscape. For me, it's not a time trial or test of skill, I just wanted to enjoy it at leisure and there were several stops to fish out the camera.

Eventually I punched up and out of the clouds and reached the summit of the main road. At this point I had the option of taking the branch road to the Edelweißespitz, an even higher viewing area. I hesitated for a moment; it would be nice to attain the peak, but frankly the cobbled hairpins looked a bit daunting and the damp sheen from earlier rain on the surface added to my uneasiness.  I decided to get brave and give it a go. The problem is that the GTR is too heavy and I'm probably too light (last advice from the doctor: "Your BMI is good, but if anything, you could do with putting a bit of weight on"). I didn't particularly enjoy this bit of the run, but I did manage to get our mismatched combination to the top, very, very slowly. I'm glad I did it, the views were excellent and as a bonus there was a restaurant up there where I could get my nose in the trough.

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After cautiously edging my way back down the cobbles I re-joined the main road in heavy fog and gradually wound my way downward and southward with numerous stops for the photo-ops whenever the cloud broke. At one point I was treated to a magnificent rainbow spanning between mountains. Well into my descent on the [107], I came across another branch road that had escaped me in the planning stage. I took a punt and followed it for a while, once again climbing a nicely surfaced road clinging to the mountainside. I eventually reached a parking area with a view over an alpine lake which once again drew the camera out. It was now 17:40 though and I wasn't sure where the road was going to end up and as I wanted to be at my next hotel in time to order a meal I decided to spin the GTR around. Looking back retrospectively, if I had stayed with the road for another 5-10 minutes it seems I would have arrived at the Kaiser-Franz-Josefs-Höhe, another observation deck which judging by the Google Street View image is another biker's gathering place. Maybe next time.

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https://www.grossglockner.at/en

There are still a few nice bends to entertain you even past the southern toll barriers, but you always have to expect the unexpected. At Heiligenblut I was almost wiped out by a black Volkswagen hatchback which failed (intentionally or otherwise) to give way where a side-road joined the hairpin I was winding around. He then followed this by later overtaking the car in front of us with a blind bend ahead. Always assume they are out to get you...

Beyond Heiligenblut, the road straightens out and allows a comfortable ride through a smattering of villages to Winklern, where the Zumo took me onto the [106] and the short final run to the Hotel Mölltalerhof near Rangersdorf. At first, there didn't seem to be room on the car park, but then I noticed they had a little covered area for motorcycles with just enough space to squeeze the bulk of the GTR between a couple of other bikes.

Checked-in, changed and down to the bar I got myself schnitzeled up with a beer to wash it down followed by another to have with my last cigar.  It had been a really good day, OK, the roads through the Austrian valleys were not in any way special, but they are a means to an end. The German section and the two Austrian mountain toll roads were just what I had wanted.

Tomorrow, my sixth country in eight days.

[Burchy]

Nice write up.  It's been 9 years since I ride there on my old gtr and it did bring back memories, especially the cobbles up towards the viewing area

[Rynglieder]

Day 8 Rangerdorf [A] > Bled [SLO] (c.118 miles)


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After getting myself from under the duvet and the bike from under its canopy I set about what was to be one of the shortest rides of this trip. Only 190km ahead of me and it could have been less, except that I had planned a circuitous route that would take me over a mountain pass rather than just confine me to urbanized valleys.
My Innovv camera appears to have missed the first half an hour from the hotel. It does this sometimes and I don't know why, but nothing much is lost of what I remember being an unremarkable ride east along the [106] to Obervellach, where the camera seems to have roused itself after fuelling up for the day ahead.

Spittal an der Drau threw in some town centre riding to break up the progress along the valley floors, at least today the arterial roads seemed mostly to be bypassing the villages, so the ride was mostly at the national speed limits as far as traffic would allow and opportunities to pass slower vehicles did come along. Under blue skies speckled with the odd dark shower cloud, I followed the [100] down to my next great metropolis of the day, Villach.

Once again, with hindsight, I may as well have done this on the A10 autobahn which runs parallel and got the same scenery but quicker. Holding onto the lesser trunk roads does give more opportunities to pull up for a smoke, or coax a coffee from Herr Vendingmachine though and you do perhaps feel that the local culture is maybe being absorbed by osmosis.

At Villach I followed my intended route for a side trip to the Faaker See, a modest sized lake just to the south east of the city. The road out was perfectly rideable although unexciting and upon arrival at the roadside next to the lake I remained somewhat underwhelmed. It's pleasant enough, but not the most attractive alpine lake I have seen and it probably won't go down in any future plan, but at least there was the opportunity for a short stroll and a cold drink.

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From Lake Faak I picked up the [85] for a more enjoyable ride though the Carinthia region, still mostly on flat roads with mountains either side in the middle distance hinting at a better afternoon to come. Just beyond the village of Strau the moment arrived to join the [91] where the Loiblpass would take me over the mountains and into Slovenia.

I really enjoyed this one – a continuous series of bends climbing ever upwards with the mountainsides now properly closed in to form wooded or rocky gorges. A recent shower had dampened the roads, but not the spirits. All too soon I seemed to reach the summit where another sleepy border post awaited, I naturally slowed down but although a couple of police vehicles were loitering, my arival attracted no interest and I rolled on, through a 1.5km tunnel and into Slovenia.

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At the bottom end of the pass lay the town of Bistrica and I reckoned I was due another coffee. Years of riding around Europe has enabled me to pick up enough of the basics to get me by, but Solvenian is a complete mystery. Fortunately, everyone seems to have settled on English as a second language with which to communicate with their neighbouring countries, so I had no difficulty whatsoever in procuring my afternoon latte.

I can't help feeling the Zumo stitched me up in leaving Bristica, I was shown out of town on a series of badly surfaced narrow roads clinging to the hillsides leading though one tiny cluster of houses to another. Eventually I was dumped back into the environs of civilization at Lesce. I would be staying there for the night, but it would be too early to check-in and so I forged on to Bled, which was my objective for the day.

A nice sunny day at an absolute tourist magnet and traffic congestion was a nightmare as soon as I reached the edge of Bled. I crawled along with everyone else, taking about 15 minutes to do a mile before the lake edged into view. The pavements and path around the lake were just as crowded with those pedestrians who had been lucky enough to escape their cars. To add to my frustration, the car park I had planned for was closed off due to some event and I had to ride further on before finding an enterprising cycle store that would permit parking on their land for a few euros.

Once the bike was tucked in and my jacket secured to it, I set off for my walk in search of a viewpoint of the famous church on its island in the lake. Like every other day on this trip, it didn't matter if the sun was out, it was overcast, or it was raining, it was always HOT. I was glad I'd been able to ditch the jacket and had the good fortune that most of my walk was in the shade of trees. I'm glad I visited and got the box-ticking snap of the famous lake and mountains, but I would advise anyone wanting to visit to do so out of season if they can.

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Thankfully, getting out of Bled was marginally less tiresome than getting into it and I was back in Lecse and pulling up at the Hotel Krek Superior before 5pm. The hotel was set on a retail park so once I was showered and changed, I had a number of fast-food joints at my disposal and a couple of bars to chose from before shutting myself down for the day in my nice big modern room.

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Quite a good day, the Loiblpass being the highlight as a biker and the vista across Lake Bled as a tourist. Less than 24 hours to my seventh country.

[Rynglieder]

Day 9 Lesce [SLO] > Falcade (c. 210 miles)

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There was a longer day ahead of me today, I had busted my self-imposed 200-mile limit as I didn't turn up a hotel within budget in Cortina d'Ampezzo which would have been my preferred overnight stop. The route was further lengthened by a couple of loops I had incorporated so as to take in what looked on the map to be better motorcycling roads. As it turned out there were to be a few more miles added on along the way.

The previous day's congestion was now a matter of history and I was straight out of Lecse onto easy roads through the Slovenian landscape under cloudless skies, only the fact that the heat was already building marred the experience. It's hard to believe that it was not so long ago that this was part of communist Yugoslavia and pretty much off the menu for tourists, but toady it feels like any other modern European country (except that your money still seems to go a little further).

I followed the [201] Westwards, taking the opportunity to refuel at Kranjska Gora as I wasn't sure what options there would be for petrol in the mountains ahead. Just a short while later I began the run over the Trenta Pass that would take me toward Italy. I confess to having some initial doubts about my route choice as the ascending tight bends and hairpins had been laid with cobbles, but fortunately after the summit they must have exhausted their stock and I was back to good old tarmacadam.  On the drop down on the western side I took a moment to stop at a the Razgledna viewpoint for a few minutes off the bike and couple of shots with the camera. After completing a very stimulating ride down the switchbacks, I arrived in the valley of the Soča river where I dismounted for a few more minutes – it was just too picturesque not to.

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After decent period of gratifying riding alongside the river I joined the [203] going to the north and unexpectedly got a visor full of the Kluže Fortress. Now, I was expecting a fort along this section of my ride and Fort Predel had been in my schedule, but here was one right here, right now, so I went for it. I spent just over an hour shuffling though the museum in this surprisingly intact fort, there were plenty of display and information panels, many, but not all, in English. Back at the bike I realised I probably had a bit of catching up to do to maintain my schedule.

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Shortly afterwards, I passed Fort Predel, but left my intended like a bride at the alter and a matter of a couple of hundred metres further on crossed into Italy, the land of buzzing scooters and competitive driving. As usual, there was no need to stop, the border post looked deserted except for the obligatory police car parked there, just for the look of the thing.

The roads continued to snake between the mountains and I was enjoying it so much that a bit of inattention to the Zumo resulted in me missing a turn and having to back-track a couple of miles to join the [SP76] alongside Lake Predil. The ride continued to be a stunner, but all good things come to an end and eventually I cruised into Chiusaforte where the [SS13] road onward became wider, straighter and less entertaining. It was not unattractive though, most of this section of the run was alongside an almost dry river bed which I eventually crossed to reach Amaro and the [SS52].

At Villa Santina another Spar store jumped into view, but unlike their Austrian cousins, there was no coffee machine so I got back on my route with a new quest in mind. The road stated to wiggle nicely and the mountains were closing back in again as I began to approach Ampezzo where the bike was duly berthed while I ambled away to find my drink and get a snap of the church.

The [SS52] continued to climb, fall and twist giving a perfect ride up to Forni di Sopra where after passing though the town the intensity of the ride grew as I entered the Sorgente Tagliamento Nature Reserve and a few hairpins were thrown in to make sure that I was not too focused on the mountain views. The afternoon was wearing on and I found myself heading for Cortina d'Ampezzo which I had originally favoured as my overnight, the road I was travelling was fine with the peaks of the Dolomites towering above, but my original plan had been to be taking a more direct route further south to my hotel, but as I said much earlier, my issues with the Zumo were preventing me from selecting a full route and I was travelling POI to POI – the Zumo had obviously decided that Cortina was the way to go.

Unfortunately, as I already knew, the Zumo is not as clever as it thinks it is as upon reaching Cortina, I found the road that it was directing me to take onwards was closed and the town was gridlocked. After a bit of head scratching and a calming cigarette, I opted to try my luck over the Passo Giau. I'd done it before and knew it was a good ride but it was already 17:30 and I had rather been looking forward to my hotel. Still, you have to live in the moment and enjoy what is in front of you, so the ascent began.

If you should ever get the chance to ride the [SP638] over the Colle Sata Lucia, I would really recommend that you do so. The road is entertaining from start to finish and the views are spectacular. I shouldn't have been here at all, but I'm glad I was. Although I'd ridden it before I had gone south to north, this time I was seeing the scenery from the opposite direction. There had to be a stop to catch a couple of digital images just after I crested the summit, but there remained the need to push on.

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At Selva di Cadore I switched to the [SP20] and began a rapid easterly decent through the twisties to reach the [SP203] which took me to Allheghe. This little town with its lakeside location has gone down in the notebook as an attractive looking place to stay one day. I continued my southward ride with my own long shadow circling me as I rolled around the gentle bends down to Cencenighe Agordino where I was able to switch to the [SP346] which would take me to my hotel.

It was not a long run to the Hotel Pineta where I found a decent room and a nice terrace to sit with a beer once I had changed. Okay, I had gone someway off my intended route at the end, but aside from navigating a couple of larger towns and a bit of trunk road it had been pretty much perfect.