Arrived at the very bottom

So Aosta was reached. And I didn't want to leave here so quickly. Matching that, I found a nice and cheap campground close to the supermarket, two pizzerias, and a bar. What else do you need to be happy? Besides, after six exhausting stages in a row, I was pretty exhausted and in the mood to relax. Unfortunately, the weather didn't cooperate. There was still a day of sunshine before the next thunderstorms. So, I decided to go on a day tour to Punta Chaligne. I'm sure I can handle the ridiculous 2243 meters of altitude. Challenge accepted.

The dilemma in Aosta is that it is only 550 meters above sea level, but still surrounded by the highest peaks of the Alps. By definition, there are hardly any short after-work tours, only epic tours of violence. The Punta Chaligne is sort of the local mountain and is somewhere in the middle in terms of tour length. But since I thought I deserved to cheat a little by now, I asked about suitable bus connections at the campground. And indeed, Bus 211 drove up to the Great St. Bernard Pass at nine o'clock in the morning, and even had room for two bikes. It's not public transport that is as bike-friendly as in Switzerland, but it had another unbeatable advantage - the bus ride was completely free.

The next morning, there was actually only one other biker waiting in front of the bus, and with a little creative tinkering, we managed to fit the two bikes into the somewhat tight luggage compartment. So off we went. The first 700 meters of altitude were thus saved, but the remaining 1600 still had to be pedaled. But it was worth it. Everything famous and infamous gathered around the summit - on the left the Gran Paradiso, on the right the Dent d'Herens, and in the middle Mont Blanc and Grand Combin. The Matterhorn was a bit shy and hid behind clouds, but I had already seen enough of it from Zermatt anyway.

Then came the longest single trail I have ever ridden. Even the Brazilian must turn green with envy here. First, it went along the exposed ridge for ages, then into a very technical section with a high percentage of pushing, at least for me. And then there were still 2000 meters of altitude with an S1 flow trail waiting, which you can just blast through with a few crossings and except for one uphill stretch, until you eventually find yourself in the city center of Aosta and realize in total confusion - this thing is not a Penrose staircase but actually ends physically correctly somewhere in the valley.

Now I was really done. Luckily, it finally started raining, and the rest day was on. My body got its well-deserved break. So far, everything is going pretty well. Of course, my hand is still causing trouble, but at least it's slowly getting better. Painfully, I keep realizing over and over again that despite all attempts over the weeks, calluses simply don't want to form on my buttocks. The red and swollen baboon bottom is therefore the inevitable suffering of the long-distance biker. By the way, if any of the readers of these lines have solved this problem, please contact me! Apart from that, everything else - calves, muscles, tendons, and whatever else there is - is working perfectly. Fingers crossed that it will continue to do so in the future.