Did it!

Now the final sprint. 47 kilometers and 1350 meters of altitude difference to the sea. A piece of cake actually, I could hardly wait. So in the morning I quickly packed my things and got on my bike. Following bumpy forest paths, I initially continued uphill. Until below Monte Toraggio, which dominated the Nervia Valley. I fought my way along paths on the steeply sloping western flank until I reached the pass summit for the first time, and had the first clear view of the Mediterranean. Finally. Although Ventimiglia was still visible on the horizon but far away, after two months with thousands of mountains and countless passes, I could hardly believe that this would ever end again. And now it was actually happening. Highly motivated, I plunged into the next trail, following the Alta Via dei Monti Liguri, a long-distance hiking trail that led through the entire Ligurian mountains, from La Spezia to Ventimiglia.

If it were up to me, this trail could simply continue downhill to the destination. But the Ligurian border ridge did not allow itself to be conquered so easily as I imagined and had other plans for me. The trail led to a forest road, and in a constant up and down, every gained meter of altitude was quickly negated again. So it went on for several kilometers until Tete D'Alpe, a viewpoint where I was supposed to lose altitude again according to the map. There was also a nice trail, but slowly the midday heat in the blazing sun became noticeable, and so I arrived at the next forest road pretty sweaty. After a short ride, a trail should turn right again. It looked overgrown, but if my track said so, it must be true.

As soon as I was far enough away from the forest road that I couldn't easily turn back, I found myself deep in the thicket. Somehow, I must have made a mistake in planning this tour, because this was no longer rideable. For over two kilometers, I pushed on a path covered with almost impenetrable bushes and nasty thorny branches on rough gravel. In scorching heat, cursing, scratched and sweaty, I fought my way through the undergrowth. I really hadn't imagined the final descent like this. Especially since my water supplies were running out. I was relieved when I reached the next forest road. It was already early afternoon, the tour took much longer than expected, and my mouth was getting drier and drier. Instead of consistently following the Alta Via, I now took shortcuts on paved roads more often, until I reached a final trail that led to Camporosso. After another 300 meters of descent, I reached the first village in three days. Finally back in civilization. I stormed into the next bar and raided almost all available supplies of soft drinks, coffee, and ice cream to escape the impending heat death.

From Camporosso it was only a few kilometers on a gently sloping asphalt road until there was no more going. I had arrived at the beach, and the Mediterranean sparkled and shimmered beautifully deep blue right in front of me. After 2,000 kilometers and 72,000 meters of altitude in the saddle, I had really made it. From St. Moritz to Ventimiglia completely under my own muscle power, and almost zero emissions. Well, apart from the occasional methane emission caused by the oatmeal, maybe.