Como-Aprica-Trento



Breakfast wasn't to be served until 7:30. It seems in Europe breakfast doesn't start as early as the United States. After a delicious buffet breakfast of museli, coffee, juice, brochen, cheese and meat, it was time to check out and leave my suitcase and bike case with the hotel. At 8:30, a local snapped my picture and I was on the road.
Leaving Como, Friday, Jully 12

Valley Spokesmen colors fly at Como.


I followed the bike path for the first few miles hugging the west bank of the lake and passed beautiful lakeside homes, some with their own boat docks or boat garages. Skies would be hazy all way to Aprica. Fine sightseeing and riding, not good photographs.
There were several tunnels along the west bank. Some could be avoided by dropping down into the villages or taking a side trail at the tunnel, but it was difficult to tell if dropping into the villages was the best bet. I stopped and switched on my taillight and rode a few of the tunnels. They were lit somewhat dimly and I've never felt secure riding in tunnels.
Before Gravedona

Looking north prior to Gravedona

Stopped for a slice of pizza and a bottle of Coke at Gravedona. I placed them in my handlebar bag for later consumption.
Shortly thereafter, I turned east to parallel SS38 heading toward Sondrio. I stayed on the side roads as best I could, but this was somewhat confusing with 1:400,000 large-scale map I was using. This was the Touring Club Italiano map, good for overall planning, not detail. Sometimes I would find myself climbing a steep hill up to a village, followed by a steep descent back to the valley. The main road was flat to gently uphill, but busy in that it was a Friday.
I alternated between SS38 and side roads until Tresenda, where I headed south, through the tunnel and started an 11.3 km climb to Aprica, gaining 844 meters on the way.
The climb was never very steep, but relentlessly taxing. The temperature was warm and humidity was high. A few kilometers from the top, a rain shower dumped for about 15 minutes. This was to be common in the late afternoon in the mountains.

View from the climb to Aprica

Aprica is a beautiful ski town/summer mountain getaway. The slopes are heavily forested with ski runs snaking down the hills. Riding into town, I found most businesses were along the main road, but quite a number were on feeder roads.
I stopped to ask a couple for the location of the Hotel Aprica. Their English seemed to be as bad as my Italian. They directed me off the main road along a parallel road. Riding along I saw several hotels, but no Hotel Aprica. I asked another man and he pointed down the road. Here was another hotel, but not the hotel. Now I started to understand the problem. They thought I was asking them to recommend a hotel in Aprica. My reservation was at the Hotel Aprica. The next time I asked, I was very careful to emphasize this. A young man directed me back to the main road and shortly I came upon the Hotel Aprica.
I checked in, locked the bike, showered, and then found a delicious pizza and carafe of wine for dinner.
Totals for the day were 88.8 miles and 5390 feet of climbing.

Arising at 6:00 the next morning, Saturday, I found everything locked up. Newspaper stands seemed to be all that was open. Too early for the hotel to serve breakfast, the front desk was closed, and the garage containing my bike was locked. Nothing to do but walk around and finish packing my panniers.
Around 7:30 they started breakfast. After breakfast I checked out, around $40 for a nice suite like room, and started down the road to Edola.


It was a beautiful descent down the river valley. I caught up with a gentlemen on a racing bike and traded pleasantries the best I could with my limited Italian. He turned off to home a few kilometers prior to Edolo.

Down the valley to Edolo

Entering Edola and descending a quiet downhill at about 30 mph, I noticed an old lady walking the sidewalk of the narrow road, paralleling me on the same side of the road. Just as I was about to go by, she made a 90-degree left turn into the road to cross without looking. I swerved and my heart skipped a few beats. I don't think it scared her, but it sure scared me.

Starting the climb north from Edolo

Turning north on SS42, I gained back the altitude I had lost and more with an 1183 meter gain to Paso de Tonale.

Looking east I could see the mountain range between Trento and Edolo.

I stayed on SS42 until Cles, exiting by Tassulio. I stopped for gelato and lemonade at Tuenno. From there I paralleled the highway for several kilometers. Merging back onto busy SS42 around Sporninore, I crossed the autostrada and turned south on SS12 to search for the hotel adjacent to the Domo in Trento. I came upon a phone booth and tried to call the hotel. I wanted to locate Scott, and ask for directions. The first telephone booth was inoperative, when I came out of the hotbox, I felt as if I had been in a sauna and was sweating profusely. The next phone booth was just as hot, but I was able to reach the hotel. I asked for Scott's room in English and in my best Italian, and was placed on hold. After 5 minutes on hold in the sauna, I gave up and rode past the railroad station in search of the Domo.
I had no trouble finding the hotel. I asked the clerk for Scott's room. This started a 10 minute period of confusion in which he thought I wanted to book a room. I stumbled with Italian, made my request in English, then drew pictures of Scott and myself and with gestures tried to get through what I was asking. The clerk's daughter came up and said she spoke English. This was somewhat true but I still couldn't get it across that Scott had a room for 2 reserved and was here. At last, I saw a book with hotel guest's names on the corner of the desk. I found Scott's name and pointed, repeating my request. Bingo, now she knew what I meant. She sent me up to his room. No one there. I carried my bags back downstairs and saw his bike in the lobby. He was standing outside talking to my wife on the telephone, asking where I was. He had just returned from a local ride.
I was beginning to feel that language was really going to be a problem. Fortunately, this was the last time language presented problems on the trip.

Totals for the day were 84.9 miles and 3596 feet of climbing.


The Duomo in Trento

The Duomo with one of the Dolomite peaks in the background.


Scott in front of our hotel.


The Duomo.

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