Organised vs Go it alone touring

I have now done two tours, one go it alone "credit card" touring, the other an organised tour. There are pros and cons to each but at the moment I am tending towards preferring the go it alone kind. Partly this is down to my nature, I am comfortable being just in my own company and independent/resilient enough to cope with the vicissitudes and adventures that touring will bring.
The benefits I expected from touring as part of a group were:

- Not having to carry my own luggage
- Not worrying about route planning/getting lost
- Not worrying about finding somewhere to stay at the end of the day
- Getting support during the ride (food/drinks etc)
- Riding with others so flat sections will be quicker and climbs more fun
- Getting a sense of shared achievement when tour is complete

In practice these benefits did not really materialise.

Luggage: true I did not have to carry my own stuff but as a result ended up taking more stuff with me and I travelled with a bike box. I actually missed the sense of travelling light and packing up all my "worldly poscessions" at the start of each day. In terms of AVS and climbing not having the extra weight of luggage helped a bit but not a huge amount. Now I tend to look at power as much as speed in terms of guaging how well I am riding. Given this having luggage doesn’t really matter.

Route planning: We followed a standard randonee and all the route info was printed on a carnet I could have got myself. The maps we got were useless, the first thing I did was buy some decent ones of my own. I missed the detailed route planning that you have to do when going it alone. For future tours, organised or not, I will buy maps in advance and plan the route myself.
Finding somewhere to eat/drink: In terms of convenience the organised tour was as much a hindrance as a help. Directions to the hotels were not always clear and some of them were in daft places from a cyclists viewpoint (prize for this is using a motel situated on a road were cyclists are not meant to ride). Quality was OK but not better than what I experienced using the Logis/Rough Guides. Food was again OK but not as good as when I had the freedom to choose where and what I ate myself.

Getting support: Did not really happen. The group was too big and too mixed abilities for one lorry to provide effective support and in any case this did not seem to be part of the package (e.g.. not even basic tools like a track pump were available.)

Riding with others: The group for my trip was of mixed ability and as a result the benefits I had hoped for did not arise. On flats we tended to go slowly and on climbs the group quickly fragmented. The itinerary was conservative but even so many wanted to start early each day to be sure to get to the finish. As a result of this after a couple of days trying to ride with a group I gave up and decided to go it alone, preferring a lie in and leisurely breakfast to an early start and taking opportunities to depart from the route and add a few extra climbs when they arose. Despite this I usually ended up amongst the early finishers each day.

Getting a sense of shared achievement: The mixed abilities, hardness of the route and weather we encountered meant most of the group bailed out at some point or another on the tour. This started remarkably early on. Some actually started the tour without any intention of trying to ride it all, others got in the lorry as soon as the second day. In the end only five of us rode the full route.

It may be that the tour I was on was an exception. I will be going on a second shortly and this may offer a different view. I expect at least the support will be better as at the end of one day we are being offered a massage! So time will tell. But based on experience so far I will be more likely to go it alone than with an organised tour in future.

Raid Dolomites Day 7

As per previous days I was last up. I did not feel too great so stayed behind for some extra coffees and water. Eventually I set off but only to find the LBS where I got some spare break pads and some oil for my chain which was looking the worse for wear following yesterdays trial and tribulations.

Once on the road proper the day started as usual with a climb, of a pass called the Presule. I surprised myself on this as despite starting the day under the weather I climbed it very well keeping up a solid 246W throughout the climb. I was feeling a lot better by the time I got to the top and consequently hurtled down the ascent and up the next climb of the Mendola. I needed a stamp at the top of this so I popped into a café and had a cake and some water. Refreshed I started on the long descent down to Bolzano. On the way down I was passed by another of our group who I caught up with on the ride into the city centre. He branched off to take the cycle path, I elected to stick with the main road. At first this seemed to be a bad decision as it turned into a dual carriageway but as it happened it was a good move as I heard later the cycle path was a nightmare to navigate.

I found the centre of Bolzano without difficulty but finding the way out was not so easy. Luckily, as I was checking my map for the umpteeneth time, a couple of others from the tour rode by, one of whom had ridden the route before. With his help we stumbled on the route out, which included a very good cycle path that kept us off the main road. Eventually we headed off the main road and up to Pinei pass.

Not far along this road a road branched off right with a sign "28%". This was too tempting to miss. Apart from the prospect of bagging another col it meant I would be able to test my fitness/gearing for Zoncolan again. The "28%" section was not that long but the climb itself was pretty and ended up at a castle on the hillside with fine views over the valley and a restaurant where I knocked back some water as the day was starting to get very hot.

I headed back down the hill and restarted the climb up to the Pinei. This was long and hot. The climb was irregular with some bits smooth or downhill, other sections over 15%. It ran through a number of small towns at one of which I stopped for an ice cream it now getting even warmer. Eventually the top was reached, a bit of an anticlimax as it was on a straight road in the middle of a wood. Still since the climbing had been pretty much constant since Bolzano it was nice to do a bit of downhill again.

The more so since the end of the day required a very uninspiring slog up a main road to Selve Gardena. The only good thing about this was that every metre climbed would be one less tomorrow, which was looking like being a long day, even bigger than today which at 3300m climbed was first time over 3000m for the trip.
By contrast to yesterday the hotel was easy to find, on the main road through the town. I nipped off to a supermarket to stock up on fruit then had a few drinks outside. Here I heard about an unfortunate accident that had befallen one of the riders. The tailgate of the lorry had fallen off and fractured his foot (he had the x-ray to prove it). It was a shame, the more so as the chap had come all the way from New Zealand to do the ride. Given this he was taking his misfortune with remarkably good grace.

Meal at this hotel was superb. Best of the trip (following the worst the night before) and the only time we were offered a choice. Great.

Raid Dolomites day 6

This turned out to be one of those days that are nightmares at the time but are nonetheless what elevate a trip from the ordinary to the special.
My notes at the day sum it all up pretty well "Remember waiting for the rain to stop, Remember eating at top of pass, Remember the snow falling, Remember the extra clothes, Remember the cold , Remember the cold, Remember the long downhill with a tail wind,
Remember trying to find the hotel".

The days itinerary was pretty simple. Just one mountain to go up then down the others side. Only thing was that the mountain was the Stelvio, the highest pass on the route and one of the highest in Europe. And the "down the other" was down the famous 48 hairpins and went on forever. Still we thought, looking at the route. "Could be worse, we could have had to go up the hard side". As things turned out that may have been a better option.

Having just had several hardish days, with more to follow I had decided that this would be a "rest" day, planning to keep the power and HR down on the climb then coast to the hotel. As a result I did not have too long a lie in and when I came down for breakfast a few of the group were still in the lobby. Worryingly they were dressed up for bad weather and when I poked my nose outside I found the reason why. Bormio is 1300m or so above sea level so suffers the vicissitudes of mountain weather. Yesterdays sunny evening had been replaced with a solid grey sky from which it was raining. Heavily.

By the time I had finished breakfast the others had left. I poked my nose out again. It was still raining. More heavily. I decided to wait. My previous experience of touring had taught me two things about rain. One: nothing is worse than starting the day wet, Two: even heavy rain has to stop at some point. So I reasoned, that given there was only a short stage to do today it would make sense to wait an hour or so at the hotel if that mean the downpour eased. The tour lorry was anxious to get off as some of the early birds should be nearing the top of the pass soon, so I handed over my luggage, aside from a book which I read for an hour or so in the lobby.

After a while, true to hopes, the rain had eased off. I put on my various outer garments, and set of in what was now just a light shower. The climb started immediately and keeping to plan I took it easy averaging just 187W (HR 128). For most of the way up I enjoyed the climb. I was feeling slightly smug about avoiding the rain, not trying to hard and the road up was very pleasant with a good road surface and pretty signs to mark each hairpin. Unfortunately as the metres ticked by and I passed 2300m or so the weather started to close in. The rain increased and got noticeably colder. The carnet needed an obligatory stamp on the way up. I made an abortive stop at a church thinking it was the place but it turned out not to be. Restarting after then was tough as the damp seeps into you when you are not active and it takes a while to warm up. When I passed another building I decided to give it a miss and press on to the top, reckoning a stamp there would just have to suffice.

By the time I reached the top I was feeling very damp and cold. My "waterproofs" were just protection against UK showers. They weren’t sufficient for conditions on top of an Italian mountain. Consequently I did not feel much initial elation at passing 2700m, the highest ever on my bike, quite a contrast from last year when the Galibier was one of the emotional as well as literal high spots of my trip.

The tour lorry was there to greet me at the top. I was asked if I was OK and said fine. (I did not realise then but most of the tour group bailed out at the top and got lifts down in the lorry. This did not even cross my mind as an option. Even with the benefit of hindsight it would have been the last thing I would have wanted to do.)

The lorry headed off and I headed towards the nearest restaurant needing: a stamp, warm food and somewhere to dry my clothes. I got all of these (including lots of soup) but this entailed a stay of a couple of hours. I had hoped that the rain would pass over in this time. Instead it got worse and turned to snow. Now call me an idiot but this came as a surprise. After all it was in Italy and it was August. I waited a bit more for the snow to stop. It didn’t, it just got heavier. Then it started to settle and I started to get worried. Then I heard thunder and the clouds lit up. I got really worried. The lorry had departed and I was alone at the top. If the snow settled any more I might be stuck here. So I needed to make a move. I togged up again and set off, but first made a detour to the souvenir shops. One purchase was a Stelvio cycle top. A bit cheesy but I think it looked quite cool and in anycase I needed more layers of clothing. I also bought some ski gloves to keep my hands warm.

I set off in a full on blizzard. The warming effects of the soup quickly wore off. When I came to the first of the 48 hairpins my heart was chilled but not due to the weather. The hairpin felt almost vertical, the tarmac that wasn’t covered in snow was covered in huge cracks. When you descend you are meant to use the brakes to the minimum extent. Not in these conditions. I clung onto my brakes for grim death through this and the next and the next and the next etc hairpin, each as scary as the previous one. In fact more so as my ski gloves were utterly useless quickly becoming water logged so that my hands were freezing and it was getting harder and harder to judge the braking. This judgement is pretty crucial, there are no crash barriers if you get it wrong, just a chasm. I was going down very very slowly and at one stage was passed by another, braver chap. Bizarrely quite a few cyclists were coming up the hill. I was actually a bit jealous of them, at least they were not as cold as me.

I caught a glimpse of my heart rate. It was heading down below 60bpm. When descending you do no work so your body cools down. This is nice on a hot day, but in the snow its disastrous. I could feel myself begin to shiver. I got more and more worried. I was in a vicious circle, the colder I got the less control I had off the bike so the slower I went so the colder I got. The descent was over 30km, I had done barely 1km and was starting to wonder how I would make it. Then through the snow I saw some lights. It looked like a restaurant, some 300m or so below. I promised myself I would stop there and worry about the rest of the descent after a cup of tea. I just made it. I parked my bike and went inside.

Only then did I realise just how cold I was. My entire body was shaking uncontrollably. I staggered into the bar area, beheld a blazing fire and saw the chap who had overtaken me on the descent before. We were a mirror image. Each of us shaking, barely able to speak. We were not alone, a number of other cyclists were there, also seeking refuge though they were a lot warmer and dryer, having presumably been there for longer.

Eventually I warmed up enough to order a tea. Drinking this was quite a challenge as I needed to co-ordinate the shaking of my hand to that of my head in order not to spill more of the drink than I swallowed. Still it had an effect so I ordered a second, and a third, and a fourth and a fifth. With each cup I warmed up a bit and was able to do a re-enactment of the dance of the 7 veils, except in my case I peeled off successive layers of soaking clothing and placed them as near to the fire as I dared. I spoke to the dry cyclists and found out they were going up the Stelvio. They had no choice but to get there as they were staying in a hotel on the col overnight, However they were going to take the bus the rest of the way.

This a gave me an option. Not one I really wanted to consider but needs must. I could take the next bus going down. Having just reconciled myself to this course of inaction the cycling gods smiled on me. I looked out of the window and thought it was getting brighter. I mentioned this to the others, they were sceptical at first but then agreed. We looked out of the door and sure enough it had stopped raining, the clouds were a very light grey and with a bit of imagination you could see your shadow.

I went back inside and put on all my layers of, now only slightly damp, clothing. As I set off I noticed my HAC had given up the ghost. It had suffered during my fall in the Yorkshire dales a while back but despite a huge crack it seemed OK. Now though it looked as if the snow and rain had killed it. This was a bit of a downer however not too much of a problem. The hairpins were numbered so knowing how close to the end was easy. Just count to 48. Warmed up and with roads now clear of snow the descent turned out not to be too bad. However it was very very long. Eventually after what seemed to be an age I came to a T junction that marked the official end of the climb. I stopped and looked at my brake blocks. I had put new ones on for the trip, now both were showing severe signs of wear and took quite a few turns to reset.

Though the official climb had ended in fact it was still downhill all the way for another 50km or so to our overnight stop in Lana. This was accompanied by a tail wind so I made good and fast progress averaging over 33kph despite only working at 133W/116bpm. The weather had now changed markedly for the better. It was hot and sunny so I dried out nicely as I sped along and had to make several stops to take off garments. It was scarcely credible that just a couple of hours earlier I had literally been the coldest in my life.

Our rest stop for the night was in Lana, in the Italian Tyrol. I knew this area well from holidays as a child. It’s a very scenic place, far more typically Swiss or Austrian than Italian and German is the first language there. Since the tour lorry had departed early I had not checked exactly where the stop was but did have a photocopied map with an X marking what I presumed would be its spot. After a few false turns I found the road containing the X but no sign of any hotel. I stopped and used my rudimentary German to ask a gardener if there were any hotels nearby.

He said no, so, confused, I made a call the tour company in the UK. They could not help directly but said they would get the guide to give me a call. Just after I put my phone away, quite by chance I happened to see a couple of guys from the tour. I hailed them and they said they would show me to the hotel. We went back down the road I had just come up, walked up to a house, opened a door and hey presto were in the reception area of a camp site. This apparently was the unofficial back door hence no sign. The receptionist was not happy to see me wheel my bike across his floor and uttered the classic phrase "This is not possible!" Having had the day I had I was in no mood to correct his English, I was just happy to get to my bedroom and change clothes.

Raid Dolomites Day 5

A long days riding. Leaving Chiavenna you immediately start on a climb up the Maloja Pass. Can’t be a very special climb as I don’t recall much about it, apart from the fact that when you get to the top there is no descent the other side. Instead there is a large lake there that you ride around eventually reaching St Moritz. Despite some warnings this proved quite simple to traverse unlike the next col which followed it.

This was the Bernina pass and though it marked the high part of the day (in metres terms) it gets my vote as the least enjoyable climb of the trip, principle amongst which was the biting headwind that I had to ride into throughout the climb. There are some nice glaciers on view but these don’t make up for the long straights and the absence of anything special when you get the highest point. I was very happy to make it there and head down over the other side.

The more so as the weather turned more sunny and I met up with the support lorry to get some fruit and drink. Coming over the next pass (Forcola di Livigno) I was overtaken for the only time in the trip, by a mountain bike of all things. In my defence the rider was in some sort of race that finished at the top of the climb (I had another 50km and 2 more climbs to go).

Once over Livigno I headed down to the village of the same name. This was situated in a very picturesque valley. I almost came a cropper by missing a turning and heading down when I should have started to go up but fortunately I realised my mistake early so did not waste too much time/energy. There were a couple of climbs, Eira and Foscagno that came one after another. The final climb over the Foscagno was made weird and a bit hard by the fact that there was a huge traffic jam before the customs stop at the top. I found out later that this is due to Livigno having a special tax free status which means people pop over the mountain to stock up on cheap booze, cigarettes and the like. The downside to this is having to risk a several hour wait to get back.

Neither of the final climbs were particularly hard , though the cumulative effect of riding 130km and climbing nearly 3000m on top of a couple of previous hard days was making itself felt by the end. Nonetheless after the final descent I had enough energy left to catch up a couple of the New Zealanders in the party on the final stretch into Bormio. This proved to be a good thing as I found out from them that our support lorry was stuck in the traffic jam we had just passed. Little point heading to the hotel so we found a café in nice sunny square in Bormio and waited there, eventually to be joined by other members of our group.

Eventually word came that the lorry had arrived so we headed to the hotel, looking forward to the Stelvio the next day.


Days stats: Distance 131km Time 6:02, AVS 22kph, Mclimb 2916,