Pure enjoyment in Valle Maira

After enduring the bitter cold night with all available layers of clothing quite well, the worst moment always came in the morning. Namely, when one has to get up and out of the sleeping bag. The sun is still hiding behind the horizon, taking its time, while the temperatures stubbornly remain at their lowest. If one happens to be unlucky, like today, a wind blows that pushes the perceived temperature even further into a chasm beyond freezing. The warmth of a freshly brewed instant coffee eases the discomfort somewhat, but one desires nothing more than the first warming ray of sunshine.

Once the biomass machinery reached a somewhat operational temperature and everything was packed up, I climbed the 150 meters to Colle delle Scaletta. Here awaited not only the gateway to Valle Maira but finally also the long-awaited rays of sunshine. From here on, it could only get better.

In recent years, Valle Maira has transformed from a hidden gem into a somewhat less secret tip. The range of tours was vast, and it’s clear that I cannot just let this opportunity pass by. After many bikepacking stages, it was time for a few relaxed day trips for a change. So, I dove into the fun. This kickstarted immediately with an exhilarating descent from the pass into the Valle Alpino. The intermediate ascent to Colle Ciarbonet provided a nice extension and an extremely exhilarating finale down to Saretto. By 11 AM, I had already surpassed the trail quota for the day.

Still at the upper end of the valley, I could then comfortably roll down the road and see what was around. As expected, there wasn't much. Sparsely populated hamlets, half-abandoned and subject to gradual decay. The flight from the countryside had not spared this valley either. Then I reached Acceglio and could hardly believe my eyes. An ATM! In the middle of nowhere. I truly did not expect that. My cash worries were thus solved for the foreseeable future. I continued rolling and passed by another mirage - an alimentari that was indeed open seven days a week. It was like paradise! Not far from there, somewhat buried in a gorge, awaited my campsite. And this was one you actually wanted to stay at. A beautiful meadow with picnic tables. Without demarcation or permanent campers. Instead, there was a nice bar and a bread service. And another pleasant surprise awaited me - my packages had arrived. Just last week, I had strong doubts about whether I could obtain a supply of essential foods needed for bikepacking - instant noodles and porridge - at the small alimentari. So, I had ordered the stuff online for delivery to this campsite. And the packages have arrived, my supply problem was resolved in time.

Of course, I was hungry, how could it be otherwise? So, I gratefully accepted the restaurant recommendation at the campsite and reserved for dinner right away. The catch - 182 meters. I had explicitly asked if one could ride there briefly in the evening. Of course, it’s just 3 kilometers, first flat and then a short steep climb, I was told. When I entered it into the route planner, it turned out to be 5 kilometers and exactly 182 meters in elevation. The fate of a bike traveler. After later huffing my way up for half an hour after the shower, I had to admit - it was worth it. I was greeted by a small gourmet restaurant in a lovingly decorated farmhouse and a fantastic four-course menu. In particular, the local pasta with pistachios and the panna cotta were absolutely excellent. Over the next few days, I would encounter several more such retreats, well hidden in the mountains with exquisite food and pricey accommodations. You could really enjoy life here. Unfortunately, these were as good as always paired with just too many bonus elevation meters for the average bike traveler at dinner. But here, it finally worked out at least once. And going back in the dark, with a full stomach and a bit of alcohol in my blood, I could at least roll down quickly without annoying climbs.

Everything was perfect in Valle Maira. Except for the weather report. It predicted three days of continuous rain after another nice weather day. That did not look good at all. I took advantage of the good day for Monte Tibert. One of the classics in the valley, and an experience of epic proportions. First climbing up to 2400 meters, then floating along the ridge for kilometers, and on an endless trail diving back deep into the valley. This day was already well spent.

After that, I was in a constant state of alert for the impending bad weather. Instead of climbing up to the peaks, I wanted to explore some of the many paths that wind between the villages through the forests. This way, I could relatively quickly get into the valley in case it started to rain or thunder. And it happened - nothing. Not a single drop fell. Instead, I found myself in the smallest mountain villages, nearly cut off from the outside world. Usually, a few brave souls still lived there in medieval-looking, but lovingly maintained stone houses, surrounded by overgrown ruins and far away from everything else. And the trails in between were simply wonderful. Trail care, of course, left something to be desired. Washed-out channels, stones, gravel, and occasionally a fallen tree are just part of it, requiring a certain minimum level of riding skill. But then you could really lose yourself in the flow. So again, 2000 meters of elevation or descent accumulated during the day. And a big grin on my face.

The weather report stubbornly held on to its gloomy forecast and insisted on rain. So, I decided to treat myself to two days in solid accommodation again. This was even relatively expensive. But whatever, better than sitting it out in a tent. I took an apartment so I could cook and prepare a proper, hearty breakfast again. After the move, it remained dry. I had not encountered such an inaccurate weather forecast before. On both days, I was able to go on tours. I enjoyed just lying on the balcony later, not having to leave my little kingdom for the rest of the day. By the way, the alimentari for supplies was also just around the corner.

In principle, everything was all right. Almost at least. Because in the last few days I noticed while pedaling that there was a slight play in the crank. It seems like the bottom bracket is failing. A dreadful deja-vu overtook me. Exactly the same problem I had five years ago. But this time I am going to nip it in the bud (earlier). So, I asked the manufacturer for the exact specifications of the bottom bracket, then forewarned the bike shop in Barcelonnette that I would be arriving there in four days, and sent the part via express shipping to Barcelonnette for pickup from Probikeshop France. Let's see if it all works out as expected.