Seceda & Panoramica delle Vette/ IT 2022
Introduction
We all get like this from time to time. You've had enough of everything and everyone and desperately need to recharge your batteries. Your motorbike is waiting in the garage, and gravel roads and winding routes are literally calling out to you from a distance.
I'll call in sick for work on the spur of the moment, but when I tell my girlfriend, I'm not so much of a daredevil anymore 🙂 and to my friend who's retired, I'm announcing, "Get packing, we're heading for Tolmezzo on Thursday morning.".
I'll call in sick for work on the spur of the moment, but when I tell my girlfriend, I'm not so much of a daredevil anymore 🙂 and to my friend who's retired, I'm announcing, "Get packing, we're heading for Tolmezzo on Thursday morning.".
Day one:
I'm meeting my mate at 7:00 AM at the usual spot. After a few pleasantries, I'll head straight for the Kittsee border crossing in Austria. I've got the destination programmed into the sat-nav, no specific requirements, and I've chosen the shortest route. A quick glance at the preview shows it'll take us past Graz and Klagenfurt via the Tarvisio border crossing. It's become a bit of a classic route. The destination is about 580km away, which is a doddle.
The journey up to Vienna is always so boring and I'm just killing time until we leave this stretch. Beyond Vienna it’s a different world and as the hills get closer, the smile on my face gets bigger too.
My mate is riding a 2013 Hornet, which by the way is for sale and it's a beauty. It doesn't have a screen or luggage racks. So I've got his bag on my CB500x and he's carrying a rucksack on his back. The story of no screen is yet to unfold...
The weather is stellar, sunny and perhaps a bit too warm, but still within tolerable limits. We are almost constantly following the Slovenian border.
It's incredible how nature can change. Just an hour from Vienna and it's a completely different world. I've never been this way before and I was pleasantly surprised by how many bends there are; it's a motorcyclist's paradise below Graz. Hills, windmills, forests everywhere. We don't care at all that all the local riders are overtaking us, we're taking in the sights.
Mate says his backside is hurting and he'd like to make a first stop for fuel. However, if he still had his Forza, which he sold, he'd prefer to stop all the way in Italy. In the past, when I wanted a pee break, Grandpa used to grumble about whether I could hold it a bit longer, now the tables have turned. Heh. We're refuelling, drinking coffee, and lazing about on benches. After a brief refreshment, we start our Hondas and head off further. The road is now how we're used to it. Clean, wide tarmac, decent drivers, indicators, yielding way, no cutting into traffic. We're not used to this from our own roads, but it's a pleasant change. South of Graz, the road changes even more, with bends giving way to more bends. We're truly enjoying it immensely. Somewhere in the St. Margareten im Rosental area, we refuel for the second time, and in the hills, we take a second, longer break. It's quite warm by now, so we shed layers as much as we can, sit in the shade, and chat.
After a break, we only put on essential items and speed off with the aim of stopping only upon arrival at our accommodation. When crossing the border, I brake my mate so he turns back towards the sign, I'm not going any further without a selfie. I still don't have a photo with the Honda, after all.
I'm meeting my mate at 7:00 AM at the usual spot. After a few pleasantries, I'll head straight for the Kittsee border crossing in Austria. I've got the destination programmed into the sat-nav, no specific requirements, and I've chosen the shortest route. A quick glance at the preview shows it'll take us past Graz and Klagenfurt via the Tarvisio border crossing. It's become a bit of a classic route. The destination is about 580km away, which is a doddle.
The journey up to Vienna is always so boring and I'm just killing time until we leave this stretch. Beyond Vienna it’s a different world and as the hills get closer, the smile on my face gets bigger too.
My mate is riding a 2013 Hornet, which by the way is for sale and it's a beauty. It doesn't have a screen or luggage racks. So I've got his bag on my CB500x and he's carrying a rucksack on his back. The story of no screen is yet to unfold...
The weather is stellar, sunny and perhaps a bit too warm, but still within tolerable limits. We are almost constantly following the Slovenian border.
It's incredible how nature can change. Just an hour from Vienna and it's a completely different world. I've never been this way before and I was pleasantly surprised by how many bends there are; it's a motorcyclist's paradise below Graz. Hills, windmills, forests everywhere. We don't care at all that all the local riders are overtaking us, we're taking in the sights.
Mate says his backside is hurting and he'd like to make a first stop for fuel. However, if he still had his Forza, which he sold, he'd prefer to stop all the way in Italy. In the past, when I wanted a pee break, Grandpa used to grumble about whether I could hold it a bit longer, now the tables have turned. Heh. We're refuelling, drinking coffee, and lazing about on benches. After a brief refreshment, we start our Hondas and head off further. The road is now how we're used to it. Clean, wide tarmac, decent drivers, indicators, yielding way, no cutting into traffic. We're not used to this from our own roads, but it's a pleasant change. South of Graz, the road changes even more, with bends giving way to more bends. We're truly enjoying it immensely. Somewhere in the St. Margareten im Rosental area, we refuel for the second time, and in the hills, we take a second, longer break. It's quite warm by now, so we shed layers as much as we can, sit in the shade, and chat.
After a break, we only put on essential items and speed off with the aim of stopping only upon arrival at our accommodation. When crossing the border, I brake my mate so he turns back towards the sign, I'm not going any further without a selfie. I still don't have a photo with the Honda, after all.
Day two
We woke up with the feeling of „finally morning“ as we hadn't slept well the first night and were happy it was finally light.
The morning routine is upon us, and off we go for breakfast, which we clicked off on a paper checklist yesterday 🙂 We're having our morning coffee, which enhances a certain need…
In navigation mapy.cz I'll select a saved route, we'll get on the motorbikes, and set off. As it's quite warm, I'll just wear regular jeans and a hoodie, stuffing the rest of my clothes into the pannier.
There is only one road to Smer Seceda from the accommodation when we talk about a short route. The first few kilometres look as if I've taken a wrong turn, narrow winding bends non-stop until the end. My jaw was incredibly wide open. For me, it was motorcycle porn, literally. At the start, the hairpin bends alternated with tourist villages, which had perhaps a million cars and even more people; I could easily specify that with an internationally recognised unit of annoyance, literally. These people had an incredible tendency to throw themselves under wheels everywhere, they didn't care at all, but that was probably the only negative thing about today's trip.
Later on, it was just a string of hairpin bends, rocks, passes, buses, caravans, and motorbikes. My left arm got a good workout from the clutch, yes, the clutch. I could only dream of 3rd gear.
My mate rated this trip as Stelvio + Grossglockner combined, with a bit extra thrown in. All in all, it was 340k of hills, 360° bends, hairpins, switchbacks, and backfiring into the exhaust. I was hugely looking forward to it, my first trip like this. What was worse was that my mate on his Hornet moaned incessantly on every single bend. He’d done enough spannering in his lifetime, whereas this was my first bike, so I was holding on for dear life. At times I had to turn down the intercom 🙂 He was either grumbling about the bends, or asking how many km were left, or when there was a cable car above us, he’d ponder that it was nice here too and we could finish here. No, no, my goal was definitely Seceda, no matter what 🙂
After about 4 hours we arrive at the destination town of Ortisei, where the cable car goes up. We wait for a while for a free space in the paid parking lot, although this could have been solved for free too, but what if someone was a hrr, after about 15 minutes we park, I throw my shoes and part of my clothes and we head to the ticket office. Entry all the way up was about 35€ per person, I don't remember exactly. Fairly quickly we get on the cable car and climb up. Ahead of us, the rocks appear like thunder. We stare down in disbelief at the people who decided to climb it, but I understand. Given more time and hikers clothes, I'd pedal too. There were two cable cars going up with a transfer at an intermediate station. After getting off, my mouth dropped open again, finally seeing the scree with my own eyes. I take out my Fujifilm X - T30 and take pictures. For better photos I have to climb uphill for about 15 min to have a better composition. My friend's views from the plateau are enough and he doesn't want to go any further, on the other hand I understand, it's stupid to walk on that gravel in motorbikes. After about 30 minutes I go back to the platform and show him the photos, then he realizes that the view from the top is worth it, so we both pedal up again...
We're taking a mandatory selfie and due to shortness of time we have to dash down. There's a restaurant at the lower platform, so we're having a hearty lunch, a hotdog with fries.
Bruised and battered, we move to the bikes, get changed and make a dash back. The clouds above don't bode well. At one point I took a wrong turn and at that moment the heavens opened. Ultimately, my mistake proved to be an advantage as we found a building with an overhang where we could shelter, at least. Luckily, we were only lightly drenched. It could have been worse, as I was only wearing a sweatshirt and jeans (and it did get worse later on).
The rain stops after 30 minutes, we wait a few more minutes for the water to drain from the roads and then we continue. The sun has come out again and we both enjoy the scenery combined with the smoking mountains. We stop now and then because I feel the need to take photos.
As time passes, it begins to get dark and dusk. We both have our navigation systems on and are checking the correctness and consistency of our route with each other via the intercom.
The arrival of darkness triggers a real alpine downpour. We try to stay together, but my friend doesn't have a shield on his moto, so he gets all the rain on him, plus he has older tires, which he doesn't trust much in the rain, so the cars get between us, which widens the gap between us even more. After turning up the hills, heading towards the accommodation, I find that I can't see anyone in my rear view mirror, just pitch black darkness. At that moment, a friend calls me, describes his whereabouts, and tells me to go look for him. So I turn around and walk back a few miles in the rain. No one anywhere, I turn back and go to look more ahead, in case he happened to have passed the turnoff. Again no one anywhere. So I turn back, since there is a closed pump just at the right turn, unpark, wipe my helmet and make the call. I swear to Odin that I've called him back maybe 50 times that I can't find him. I stand there for an hour in the dark and rain like a suckling pig, suddenly the phone and after his reply that where am I because he is already at the hotel he seriously almost fucks me.o to the moon. I breathe this information for a while, get on my moto and continue in the pitch black darkness in the rain for about 40 min to the hotel. Upon arrival he is waiting for me at the garage and asks where I am. I don't have to spend another few minutes explaining how pissed I was 🙂 And his response? The satnav even showed him where to go but he didn't believe it, he thought it wasn't the right turn off. Uaaaaaa.
Does it end with a full stop today, or perhaps an exclamation mark?
P.S.: It's still my super motorbike buddy for roads and off-road 🙂
Day three
We wake up in a relaxed mood, the clothes have dried, we move on to breakfast and discuss where to go. My mate wants to go and wet his whistle in Lignano Sabbiadoro, but I want to experience my first light off-road section. We agree to call each other later and meet somewhere. It's supposed to be sunny today, so I'm going again in my usual jeans and hoodie 🙂 I select the Panoramica on the sat nav and gradually climb mountain asphalt roads.
Villages are shrinking, and I look at the navigation with distrust: where could a mountain scenic route possibly start? In the last village, I miss a turn, but an old lady gestures for me to turn a bit further on. Apparently, I'm not the only individual looking for the right path. After a few metres, the village ends, and a narrow, broken asphalt road begins, flanked by a forest. The navigation isn't lying, and the amazing road up to the heavens begins. Bend after bend. The road is barely wide enough for one car.
No traffic, with the occasional car parked at the roadside, the asphalt is more broken up, but the Honda doesn't mind at all. At that moment, I realise how lucky I am that my mate went to the sea and not here. He would have got terribly pissed off on the Hornet 🙂
The fog suddenly disappears and a gravel path carved into the hills is revealed before me. The temperature is absolutely perfect, with hills covered in vegetation all around. No one anywhere. After a while, I spot a snack bar in a small valley with beautiful panoramic views. I ponder my abilities for a moment, as going down doesn't seem too dreadful, but the way back across the rocky surface fills me with a certain amount of uncertainty. But what the heck, it's not life or death, it's just dirt, so I head down. I park and take photos. At the cottage, I meet the first motorcyclists, I greet them, and I notice how they size me up, and this is how it is for the entire mountain road.
99% I meet GS's. The rest are KTMs, with the occasional Ducati. All kitted out from head to toe, loaded with panniers, expensive accessories, expensive clothing, and then suddenly some lunatic appears on a CB500X in jeans and a sweatshirt 🙂
The only motorcycle equipment I had on me at the time was a Nolan X70 II helmet, gloves, and Gore-Tex motorcycle boots :)
I continued on, tackling the rocky path uphill with ease in the end. Suddenly, I was stopped by a gate with a sign indicating roadworks, and I wondered how much trouble I was in. Out of nowhere, a group of bikers appeared from the other side. They opened the gate, so I timidly asked if the road was alright. After they replied "no problemo," I happily carried on. I occasionally met a biker, but otherwise, there was no one around. Complete solitude and peace. Incredible relaxation. My batteries were recharging nicely. After completing the entire route and taking heaps of photos, I called my mate at the seaside to see how he was. We arranged for him to stay there longer and for me to come down to him to "wet my whistle.".
I fill up and drive 144 km to the sea. I found a free place right behind his bike. Perfect, I park, change and hit the boardwalk. Boiled, thirsty, hungry with only one vision and that's to splash in the sea. I'm strolling along when suddenly I see my friend already on the promenade, changed. I ask him what he's doing there, his answer is, well... his hooker is torn, he's got a blister and he's shitting on the sea. One would have been whipped. My appetite for irrigation is gone. And so we go downtown to our favourite restaurant for spaghetti carbonara. I've never really eaten better pasta. After cracking ourselves up, we move on to our favorite cafe where we chill Coke and sip coffee. Suddenly a young black woman with a baby on her back appeared near us selling jewelry. I pretend I'm not there at all and hope my friend is doing the same, but shitoooo, he launches into a conversation with the goal of not buying anything anyway. He takes a picture of a black woman, but when she realizes she's not going to buy anything anyway, she insists on deleting the photo and won't leave until she sees him delete it in the trash. From where, of course, he put it back after a while 🙂 Then we move on to our favorite ice cream. There they load us up with so many mounds of ymrzlina for 2€ that we don't manage to lick it. Otherwise, we are surprised by the prices. There is no significant price increase. The spaghetti was around 10€. Which is totally cool, that's how much spaghetti costs in BA and it doesn't even reach the wrapper 🙂
And there, as a starter, they will bring you bread, with olive oil, and grissini on the table. After lunch, they'll bring lemon mousse ice cream, or whatever it is, and then sour sweets as well. But they are really sour, not for the faint-hearted. It's like licking a lemon 🙂
Once again stuffed and sticky with ice cream, we move to the benches a short distance from the bikes, where we get changed, get on the bikes and head back to the mountains towards our accommodation. Luckily, the sun isn't as hot now, and after an hour's ride, the flat road disappears, and the mountains begin. The road profile changes again, and I'm enjoying its profile, I'm happy as a clam again.
We arrive at the hotel at a reasonable hour, park the motorbikes in the garage, go to get changed, and then chat and drink non-alcoholic beverages on the hotel terrace until nightfall.
We go to bed in the evening quite content, but the return day already fills us with dread....
Day four
I never like these days, but it always warms my heart and soul to know that I'll be back with my girls, especially with our little princess.
After breakfast, we pack our bags, pay for accommodation, and leave the hotel in pleasant temperatures. The roads are relatively empty, so we travel at a brisk pace, still admiring the surrounding nature. At one point, we encounter a peloton. The local traffic management doesn't want to let us through, so the group of motorbikes crawls along at a snail's pace. My mate grumbles on the intercom that we'll probably stop somewhere and wait. Fortunately, the peloton turns off in another direction after a few kilometres, and we can pick up speed again. After crossing the Austrian border, the style of riding changes again; we ease off the throttle, slow down, respect the road signs, solid white lines, and so on...
We're going over mountains and through empty Austrian villages, so the journey is completely relaxed. We're riding on mountain asphalt, through never-ending bends, and soaking up the surrounding atmosphere. Our petrol is running low, but we both have a shared flaw: we try to use up as much as possible so that we can really fill the tank with fresh petrol. We also only fill up at „branded“ petrol stations. And even though our remaining range is becoming tragic, we tell ourselves we'll fill up at the next one. But bloody hell, there are no petrol stations in these hills. My mate reports a range of a few kilometres, and same for me. So there we are, chugging along in third gear in this beautiful hill with wide, clean asphalt, and praying. Just as we're running on fumes and with divine help, a petrol station suddenly appears. I put 17 litres in the tank, so I had 700ml left. Not exactly spectacular 🙂 We refuel ourselves and the bikes, give our rears a break, and with one more stop, we arrive home. I get home around 8 PM. We covered about 2,000 km in total. Batteries recharged to the max, and satisfied, we return to our understanding partners.
