Tag Archives: Harley Davidson

Size Doesn’t Matter…

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Sometimes, as a writer, on rare occasions I find it surprisingly hard to fully express my feelings.

It’s not because I have “writers block” or that I suffer from any vocabulary failure, no, it’s because sometimes the sheer enormity of what I have experienced it beyond the written word…or even the spoken one come to that!

Today is one of those very rare occasions.

Looking back on various blog posts, I have from time to time said things like:

“That was the best,”
“I’ve never,”
“Wow!”

Well my dear Blogonaughts, today was beyond any of those!

Today was simply the most challenging, demanding, technically difficult yet satisfying day of motorcycle riding that I have ever experienced.

To say that I am tired this evening, is a major understatement. As a result, the full details of our epic adventure will have to wait for another post; tonight I can’t do it justice, but believe me, there’s a lot to tell!

We did a round trip from Jausiers and largely plugged away in the Italian Alps, just over the border from France.

The reason?

OK, I’ll be honest, Col hunting; looking as ever for those big high mountain passes!

Only this was different, these weren’t easy get at-able passes, they were high, well off the beaten track and rarely visited.

So yeah, I had to go do them!

In order:

Passo Fauniera

Passo Fauniera 2481m 8140ft
Colle Vallonetto 2439m 8002ft
Colle d’Esischie 2370m 7776ft
Colle di Sampeyre 2283m 7491ft

Then to finish off the day, Col Agnel, the highest paved international pass in Europe at 2744m/9003ft and my dear old friend, Col de Vars 2111m/6926ft.

Head towards Col Agnel.


So what was so difficult?

Well, nothing, until I turned onto the road marked “Passo Fauniera” in Demonte a small village in Northern Italy.

Then slowly, slowly, slowly, all hell broke loose!

On the plus side the weather was great, apart from some occasional low swirling cloud, which was just as well because we would have been in serious trouble otherwise!

For tonight I’m reporting 51 miles of narrow roads, poor surface, missing surface, mud, road covered in larch needles, snow, ice, road-works, road closed and an off-road diversion; get the drift?

Oh, nearly forgot to mention, largely no barriers and precipitous drops – but just don’t tell Mrs Dookes!!

…erm yes, sort of a barrier!


Our reward from the Road-Gods was a superb ascent and descent of Col Agnel, followed by a truly crazy assault of Col de Vars, where I’m ashamed to admit I really went for it and actually overtook quite a lot of other motorcycles, not like me at all…..you should have heard Harls roaring as we climbed that last one!

Mileage-wise not big in total, just under 200, it was the middle 51 that was killer ….but like has been said:

“Size really doesn’t matter, it’s what you do with it!”

…and anyway, we survived!

Catch you soon.

Dookes

It’s All In The Mind – More Highs, More Cols

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I find it very hard to explain exactly what it is that drives me to climb ever more high mountain cols/passes.

Sometimes I’ve been there before; otherwise it’s a new route, new vistas, new challenges. Always there’s that experience of conquering to beast, which must be nothing compared to how cyclists feel; they have my utmost respect!

Whatever it is that drives me, I cannot do it without support. Obviously Mrs Dookes figures high in this as without her support and blessing I couldn’t be here playing in the mountains in the first place! Then there are others.

This year I have to give special thanks to my good friend Polly.

Now it’s a bit hard to say exactly what Polly does; I suppose that in many ways she re-wires people heads…

What on earth are you on about Dookes????

Well, remember Big Baby Blue, that Harley Ultra Limited that I once had?

Basically I couldn’t get her to go round bends!

Then it started to get serious, it started happening with Harls….which was very strange as I taken her almost everywhere and never had a problem! More importantly I wasn’t for one minute going to let her go the same way as Blue.

To be fair, with me on board, a full tank of fuel and luggage, Blue once tipped a weighbridge at 535kg. That’s bloody heavy! In comparison, Harls is a mere 330kg, but I’d started to get problems with her too…

Miss bends like this….? – Col d’Izoard


That was the trigger, I got in touch with Polly.

Together we talked things through and tried to find the root cause of the problem. This in itself was interesting as I am a fully qualified “Incident Root Cause” investigator, but I digress.

I’m not going to go into details, but like many sports organisations these days use psychometric processes to find that marginal gain, I can confirm that Polly did her job.

After seeing Polly a few times I’m riding and enjoying riding “Harls” and my other bike “Hettie” like I never have before. My cornering is better, smoother and quicker than I can remember and my general riding feels much more relaxed. I’m also getting such a buzz doing it too!

I can’t thank Polly enough.

Today’s Cols; Izoard, Vars and Allos are for you Polly…I probably wouldn’t be here without you!

…..or views like this? – Col de Vars


“Shine on you crazy diamond!”

Catch you soon

Dookes

PS Polly, there a bottle on its way to you!

Tired, Emotionally Drained, but Oh So Happy!

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Let no-one tell you otherwise, riding a big old motorbike in the mountains is hard work!

I frequently smile as Sports and Adventure bike riders flick past Harls and I on those tight twisty mountain roads. True they are chopping along faster than us, but then they are on much lighter machines, with more powerful engines and definitely better brakes. Poor old Harls chugs along with her carburetor fitted engine and brakes that need treating with considerable respect, no ABS for us!

I smile because I wonder just what those other riders are taking in. Do they see the stunning scenery or those eagles soaring on a thermal, or are they more likely looking for the next braking point or overtake?

Each to their own I guess, but still I smile!

We kicked off this morning with a bit of a detour; the good folk of the Savoie region of France had closed part of our route for a bicycle event, but no problem – there were excellent alternatives! That’s the nice thing about La Route des Grande Alpes, there are actually alternative ways of doing it; I know, very French!

So let’s start with a little trundle up the North East side of Col de la Madeleine, 2000m/6561ft above sea level, this side was a new route for us and quite interesting. The last time I was on this Col was with Baby Blue and we rode up and back from the La Chambre side.

Today was different and much more enjoyable, though we were chased by a rain shower for the last 10km and just managed to stay ahead of it!

Then we had another choice and I settled for Col de la Croix de Fer 2067m/6781ft, from St Jean de Maurienne. Again this was a new route for us, though not the Col and wow, was I pleased with my choice! I wouldn’t say that it’s become my new favourite, but it’s well up there. The road winds ever upward, through delightful forest slopes, tiny villages, and a tightening valley, before bursting out above the tree line in a wide amphitheatre bounded by some of the most magnificent mountain sentinels one could wish for.

The Col itself is one of the most popular in the Alps, legendary in La Tour de France and easily accessible from nearby centres of population, so yes the top was busy; most people come up from the easier Grenoble side.

We slipped down to Col du Glandon, 1924m/6312ft, then followed the narrow valley back down to La Chambre for a quick blast to St Michel de Maurienne, where we turned right.

That moment of turning right onto the D902, the “proper” Route des Grande Alpes, was special; this was the road to Col du Galibier!

I once wrote about my love affair, because that’s exactly what it is, with the mythical Galibier. Check it out here.

Today we were going back, again. Galibier keeps calling me and I can’t help but answer her by returning.

First though was the small matter of Col du Télégraphe.

Now “C du T” is often seen by many people as a minor prelude to the main event of Galibier, I was once one of those folk. Wrong!

Col du Télégraphe deserves respect in it’s own right, the climb is 878 metres at an average gradient of 7.4% and starts from that point that we turned right in St Michel. What’s even better is that it could have been made for a Harley Davidson Softail such as Harls, the way that the road is engineered somehow seems to suit the old girl and we flew up.

This was no deep-down-dig-in grunt. This was snarling Harley thunder and “Let’s scrape a few bits on the tarmac round some of the bends” fun! I haven’t thrown the old girl around like that in years, well not with luggage on board anyway and y’know she encouraged me!

I didn’t bother stopping at Télégraphe, or “Le Col” which followed a few kilometres on; the call from Galibier was getting stronger!

At 2642m/8667ft, Col du Galibier is not only one of the big players in the Alps, but also the whole of Europe, it’s number 5 in the “All Europe” list of paved passes.

After the alpine resort of Valloire the D902 enters hardening scenery and as it leaves behind the bridge at Plan Lachat you’d better believe that this is a serious road in tough yet achingly beautiful country.

The last of the winter snow was evident everywhere, in fact the pass road was only opened a week ago. I was thankful for my helmet’s built in sun visor as the glare was a times very bright.

We kept climbing and climbing and climbing with a heightening euphoria as we ate up the kilometres.

Over the last kilometre, tears were welling in my eyes; no I lie, they weren’t , they were running down my cheeks! And Harls, she had a little moment too, was that a bit of high altitude carburettor icing that made her catch her breath and cough or was she feeling the moment as well?

Harls and I were coming back to our spiritual home, again.

We pulled over at the summit and I took a moment to compose myself, Harls sat there with her engine tinkling contentedly as he cooled.

I find it hard to explain just what a hold that this mountain has on me, it’s real, very real and I wouldn’t change the feeling for anything.

We took in the scenery, looked to the sky and were just glad to be there for that moment.

At the touch of a button Harls coughed back into life, time to move on, but we’ll be back!

The mountains call us all…

…it’s just how you answer, that is the difference.

Catch you soon.

Dookes

Route de la Grandes Alpes – From the Start

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Some years ago I was in Jausiers, at the very heart of the French Alps with my beloved Harls.

Passing an idle few moments whilst waiting to pay my hotel bill I noticed an interesting leaflet about something called “La Route des Grande Alpes.” Being an inherently inquisitive chap I picked it up and in a fleeting moment my life changed.

You see, here was not only a route map, but a reason to return to these enigmatic mountains again and again!

It was also the start of a mini obsession.

To explain; La Route des Grandes Alpes is a tourist itinerary through the French Alps between Lake Geneva and the French Mediterranean Riviera passing over all the high passes of the Alps within France.

For years, since picking up that blasted leaflet, I’ve pondered over maps planning to one day ride this iconic road and today, dear Blogonaughts, Harls and I have started to do just that!

Of course Harls was always going to be with me, she’s part of me.

I’ve decided to enjoy the whole experience without feeling the pressure to recount every detail each evening on this blog. That will follow when I get home.

For now, each day I’m just going to give you a status report.

RDGA Zero Kilometre, the start.


Today we stood at the Zero Kilometre marker outside the Town Hall in Thonon les Bains, started Harls engine and headed South on La RDGA.

Six Cols later we have paused for the night in a typical alpine hotel near Val d’Isere and are thoroughly pleased with ourselves.

On top of Europe.


Tired too, the technical term is “knackered” actually, but happy, very happy.

Our odyssey has truly begun.

Catch you soon.

Dookes

Hot, Smelly and Dusty.

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…. And that’s just me!

OK gang I’m going to keep it brief tonight.

It’s been a pretty gruelling day. Only 260 miles covered but 140 of those were painful, tedious grind on old National Routes that Dookes should have known better and avoided!

I was going to regale you all with tales of the changing geography and landscape vistas. Then tell how vast fertile plains of cereals gave way to contented suckler herds of Charolais cattle and then slopes of Burgundy vineyards. Instead my eyes are dry with the stinging dust from too many miles stuck behind heavy goods vehicles on roads with absolutely no overtaking permitted!

Fortunately a lunch stop in Mâcon, one of my favourite small French cities, cheered me up a bit as my patience was definitely wearing very thin!

Mâcon and the River Saône


My old mate Floyd, bless his soul, had a solution for that gritty road dust in the eye syndrome; a slug of Marc de Bourgogne in a strong espresso.

Instead I have to settle for eye-drops!

Anyway, tonight we are in the Ain Département of Eastern France, right up alongside the Swiss border. It’s lovely country and as we are a bit up in the hills it’s also mercifully cooler, as the warm winds today made it seem like I was riding into a hairdryer at times, as my pal Paul says!

This is the gorge of the River Ain, from which the region takes its name, nice eh?

On a plus point the twisty roads have begun, the last fifteen miles certainly made up for the painful bits!

Tomorrow we start La Route des Grande Alpes.

Catch you soon.

Dookes

Pondering through the Miles

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Motorcycling is great, no really it is, even when the weather decides to test you with a bit of rain, or fog, or snow… actually forget those bits about fog and snow, it’s pants then!

One of the things I love about being on two wheels is the time I get to do a bit of thinking. Now I’m not talking real deep meditational stuff, because when I’m riding I really need to keep my mind fully on the road, but I seem to have developed a sort of “compartmentalised” mental ability to grab a thought or idea, place it in some recess in the old Dookes head and recall it later for further processing. Which is quite a handy trick really! It’s how I manage to absorb the day’s traveling, write about it later whilst and able to recapture the essence of what I was thinking when I was out on the road.

Take this morning for example.

The road across Northern Brittany from Morlaix to Rennes is a dual carriageway. It’s not exactly the most stimulating stretch of tarmac in the world, but like many such roads gets you efficiently from A to B with minimum of fuss. It’s also the road that I like to use to get me “in the groove” for Continental Europe travelling. As many people will be aware, those pesky Mainland Europeans, along with most of the rest of the world, drive on the “wrong” side of the road; that’s the Right side, only it’s not, “right” that is!

Which got me thinking….

As anyone with half a shred of historical knowledge will know, the “right” side to drive is the Left. Just like we do in the U.K. and so do Australia, New Zealand, Japan, India and about 70 other “enlightened” countries, which equates to about 35% of the world population, but why?

Well it’s all largely to do with swords, farm carts and aristocrats.

In the days when roads were ruled by the horse, just about everybody travelled on the left hand side of the road because most people are right-handed; if you needed to pull out a sword to defend yourself you had you opponent just where you wanted them, on your right hand side. It also was good manners as it prevented your sword in it’s scabbard flapping about and hitting passing riders as you had it on your left. Plus, ever noticed which side most people mount up on a horse from?

Yep, the left, to keep the sword out of the way!

By the 1700s in France the aristocracy kept driving their carriages on the left, even though the necessity of having to have ones sword free had largely passed, but seemingly they enjoyed forcing the peasants over to the right! Around this time though, farmers in France began using bigger and bigger carts as farming techniques improved and crop yields grew. These bigger waggons often used more than one horse so the driver would sit on the left hand side animal in order to use their whip in the right hand, plus they could then also keep an eye on their cart’s wheels as they passed other road users.

Come the French Revolution one of the many ways that the new French Republic made itself “different” was to make driving on the right compulsory, from 1794. As Napoleon Bonaparte then went on to conquer vast swathes of Continental Europe everyone in his path was forced to conform!

All that to explain why Dookes has been riding on the Right-Hand side of the road today. To be honest, on a motorbike it really doesn’t make much difference except to keep your wits about you and look out for traffic coming from unexpected directions; I quite like it.

It’s always interesting and a bit amusing in the first few kilometres just off the ferry as inevitably you can spot the odd Brit car driver getting it totally wrong at either a road junction or roundabout!

Which is all a long-winded way of saying that I’ve just had a brilliant day riding Harls in warm sunshine on sticky tarmac on just about my favourite country on Earth!…(apart from Wales that is!!!) We’ve covered just short of 400 miles, some of it pretty hard grind, but when I’m on on Harls I never want to be anywhere else in the world.

Highlight of the day was riding some of the famous “24 Heurs du Mans” circuit, around the city of Le Mans. Whipping down the legendary “Mulsanne Straight” hanging a right at Mulsanne then zipping under the Porsche bridge before flicking through Indianapolis and Arnage to the Porsche curves was the stuff of dreams!

Indianapolis Curve, moving a bit!

I took Baby Blue around Monza once, I’ll tell more about that another day, but today beat that hands down as I did it with Harls! Thank goodness I didn’t see any Gendarmes.

Porsche Bridge.

Like I say, you just need to keep your wits about you and give a nod of thanks to Napoleon for making life interesting!

Vive La France, vive la revolution, vive la difference!

Catch you soon

Dookes

Arrival or Departure

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Frequently, in those idle moments that journeys throw at me, I ponder what is better, Arrivals or Departures?

I know, the old Dookes grey matter wanders in mysterious ways, but bear with me and I’ll explain where I’m coming from.

As I type this our ferry is making it’s final approach to Arrive in the Port of Roscoff. On-board there is a palpable air of excitement, stoked in no small part by a number of French school groups. The children are chattering in the animated carefree way that only the young can indulge in. They don’t worry if everything is packed, passport and documents ready, someone else takes care of that!

For my part, I sit in the lounge watching busy activity on the quayside as dockers secure the mooring ropes and make fast the ship against the dock. The strong Solstice morning sun glares through the windows, it’s certainly looking like its going to be a lovely day. It’s early, too early for everything except strong coffee and a moment to let the day come to me; let it Arrive if you like.

Departing Plymouth


Last night we took the short ride from Dookes H.Q. to the port of Plymouth, so often the beginning of various adventures. It was the moment of Departure and in many ways I hate it; yet at the same time I love it too… weird eh?

I hate leaving behind everything that is precious and closest to me, Mrs Dookes, our home, comfort in the familiar; yet there’s an adventure and exploration lying ahead of us.

The open road….calling.


As I get older that wrench of separation gets harder and the excitement of the unknown diminishes.

Then we hit the road and the focus switches, time to concentrate.

Arrival or Departure?

It kind of depends on which one you are doing…

Catch you later.

Dookes

Dookes is on the Road Again!

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Well almost!

It’s like this people, the old itchy feet syndrome has kicked in again…!

I though that the idea of this “Early Retirement” stuff was that I wasn’t as crazy busy as when I was doing a real job. Pondering for a moment I realise that actually having a “Real Job” give you structure and boundaries, not having one makes everything a bit blurred.

As a result when someone says to me can you help? I inevitably say yes; which is good and bad at the same time.

Certainly life has taken on a lovely unpredictable path and really interesting things come my way to get involved with, which for a variety of reasons I can’t tell you all about; I know, it’s a cruel tease, but that’s just the way it is!

I do know, however, that it’s definitely the right thing for me at this moment in time.

That said, of late I haven’t been out on two wheels quite as much as I would like.

Which is why I’ve said “Screw It, time to ride!”

This coming Wednesday I’m off to La France and am going to chase down a route that I’ve been promising to ride for years – La Route des Grandes Alpes. Click here to read more about it.

Basically it runs from Thonon les Bains, on the shore of Lake Geneva, to the Mediterranean Sea at Menton, via all of the high French alpine passes. It’s going to be quite some trip!

“Harls” in the High Alps


I’m also taking my trusty “Harls” with me, for lots of different reasons, which I’ll explain more as we go along the route.

We leave on Wednesday, which gives you all time to saddle up and ride along with us on the road, as ever I’d love to have you tag along!

“Dookes is on the road again
Wearin’ different clothes again
Dookes is turning handouts down
To keep his pockets clean”. (With apologies to Manfred Mann!)

Catch you soon.

Dookes

Classic

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As I get older, I have realised that fewer things impress me.

Sure I have likes, but impress? Nah, not much!

So when the 2018 Harley Davidson models were released in late ’17 I liked them. Then back in January this year, I had the opportunity to test ride two of the brand new motorcycles. You can read about that test session here.

Following my report on the test, I found myself wondering how the other seven models in the 2018 Softail line compared from a riding point of view. I particularly had my eye on the new “Heritage Classic.”

It’s funny, but I’d always viewed the “Softail Heritage” as a bit of a caricature of a stereotypical Harley…dripping chrome, leather tassels, polished studs, white wall tyres and as big as a supertanker….yeck! Not my thing at all.

2015 Softail Heritage, all whitewall and chrome.
Photo: Harley Davidson


The new “Classic” though was different, very different, gone were most of the fripperies, instead here was a machine that really looked the business, was 30kg lighter and had a more powerful engine.

Yes there was a serious nod to the Heritage of Harley Davidson, but it was subtle and to my eye quite pleasing, but what did the thing ride like?

Waiting outside Plymouth Harley Davidson.


Fast forward to the last Sunday in March and I found myself outside Plymouth Harley Davidson looking around a new Heritage Classic 107.

With a squeeze of the starter switch the engine roared into life and throbbed away like only a V-twin engine can do. I checked around the bike as it warmed up and the engine management dropped the revs back to around 900rpm at idle. The familiar Harley “Potato-Potato” exhaust was not quite the same, partly tuned out by modern noise regulations and also affected by the eight valve engine, it still sounded nice and “grunty” though!

Two factory equipped panniers offer ample storage for day rides, as well as more adventurous stuff like I get up to

I swung my leg over the bike and settled in the seat. Oh this felt comfortable and very familiar, so like my beloved “Harls.”

The suspension on the new Softail’s is much easier to adjust than on the old twin-cam models, so I had checked that I was correctly factory set for a solo rider of my weight; that’s 86kg if you are interested! The suspension has a single mono-shock located under the riders seat and adjustment is simply made by screwing the pre-load in or out.

Under the seat, the spring like thing is the mono-shock. Pre-load adjuster to the right by the Datatag sticker.


Selecting first gear I eased the clutch out and we were away. Now bear in mind that this was a new bike, brand new, so there would be no crazy stuff.

Right from the off was smooth, so very smooth. Yes the engine was tight and the gearbox a bit stiff, though in a thoroughly understandable brand new way.

I chose a route that gave me a good mix of highway, urban and country riding. With a new engine it’s very important not to over-rev it and at the same time also not hold it at the same speed for too long; variety is the spice of engine life too you know!

OK Dookes, so what was it like?

Well, nice seems to understate it a bit…that’s like saying that Turner’s painting “The Fighting Temeraire” is a pretty picture of a couple of boats.

The Fighting Temeraire.
J.M.W.Turner


No, this bike wasn’t just nice; it was bloody gorgeous.

The ample and somewhat “Retro” touring screen gave good protection from the wind, even at 70mph. Handling was superb, miles better than the Fat-Bob and also a step up from the Sport Glide. I took it easy on the twisty bits as new tyres are not renowned for exemplary grip, but I could feel how crisply the new chassis turned into bends and how “planted” the bike felt on the road. I really made me feel very confident.

The brakes are fitted with ABS, but are not linked, come on H-D you can do better than that you link them on the Touring models! I thought initially that I would have liked to have two disks on the front wheel, but the four-pot Brembo calipers really do stop this baby quite well.

Even though I was keeping the revs below 3000 and not “lugging” the engine, there was power to spare; once this baby was run in it was going to be a beauty!

I paused to grab some photos and ponder what I had written previously about Harley Davidson and their apparent lack of innovative leaps forward.

Maybe the whole point is that sometimes you just don’t need to make big grandiose flourishes in one go? If however, you roll a few together subtly over a couple of years you may just have a quiet revolution. By putting the Milwaukee Eight engine in a totally new frame and making a few tweaks here and there I can honestly say that I believe Harley Davidson really have produced something really special and are onto a winner.

To say I was impressed is a bit of an understatement.

Yeah, the old geezer was impressed!

In fact I was so impressed, that I am now the proud owner of a gorgeous new Heritage Classic in metallic Olive Green and Black!!!!

“I bought a new machine and then they say it takes your breath away…”

Catch you soon.

Dookes

With special thanks to all at Plymouth Harley Davidson for continuing to indulge Hogrider Dookes with support, encouragement and above all excellent customer service!
(Usual disclaimer applies)

Mountain Dreaming

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It’s turned mid-March, what’s going on? As I started to write this, outside Dookes H.Q it’s snowing again. . . I should be out on two wheels in warm Spring sunshine!

Looking back on some old posts, I realised that back in September I had promised to catch up with photos of a couple of Epic rides that Harls and I enjoyed in the Dolomites and South Tyrol. At the time we stayed in a really super hotel, it had great food, was really comfortable, but suffered from very shaky WiFi which caused me a bunch of stress and took away the pleasure of sharing what we’d been up to on a daily basis. Then after we got home life stuff got in the way and things were a bit forgotten, so dear blogonaughts I apologise and will now, hopefully, begin to put that right.

When I was planning our trip to the Dolomites and Italian Alps I looked around for a useful base that would give me different options of routes to explore. Knowing what mountain weather can be like, I didn’t want to commit to just one area; experience taught me that the weather on one side of a pass can often be totally different to the other.

As I pondered suitable bases my eye kept being drawn to a likely looking area just to the North East of the city of Bolzano. It offered easy access to both mountain ranges as well as the city, should I wish to vary things a bit. It also had the added attraction of an interesting looking narrow gauge railway; more of that in a future post. I didn’t know anything about this area, the Ritten Plateau, but it certainly looked interesting.

As things turned out, it was one of the most inspired choices that I think I have ever made! The view was pretty good too!

I rode to Bolzano from Gaschurn in the Western end of Austria. The day before we had crossed Switzerland in monsoon imitating rain, the going was tough and tiring. Now we had ridden the Silvretta High Alpine road in falling snow and ground hard miles out over the Reschenpaß through more driving rain and heavy traffic.

Reschensee on the Reschenpass on a murky miserable day.

This was supposed to be fun I kept trying to remind myself!

A spirited race down the SS38 from Merano to Bolzano in brightening weather lifted things considerably and then we found the SP73 road to Ritten. . .

Now dear blogonaught, promise me this one thing. If ever you find yourself near Bolzano in Northern Italy, go find the SP73. It doesn’t matter what vehicle you are on/in, the SP73 will put a big smile on your face! There are thirty bends that vary from tight hairpins to lovely, no wonderful, power-on sweepers that are guaranteed to put a big smile on your face and you could swear have been stolen from all of the great race tracks of the world! Oh and the views are pretty good too as the road claws it’s way from the valley floor to the high Ritten plateau.

When planning our route I’d looked at the SP73 on the map and thought, “That look’s interesting.” With the day we had just endured, I must be honest, I wasn’t really looking forward to the prospect, I was tired, my shoulders were aching, my eyes gritty from the road, I was dirty, pretty sure I was smelly and not really in the mood to battle hairpins!

Then I took a right onto the SP73.

The road starts by cutting through vineyards as it begins it’s ascent North. The first few bends are sweepers, each one a bit tighter than the last, then there is a squiggle of hairpins and everything becomes clear, this road was engineered to be seriously enjoyed!

SP73, it’s the one for me!


The surface was great, the barriers reassuringly solid, but not intimidating and the view ahead clear.

It’s funny how quickly I can change my mind!

After such a day of hard, hard, miles this was just what I needed. “Harls” seemed to growl approval too as she leaned into each successive bend, her shotgun pipes spitting contempt at the gradient as I kept her engine in the sweet-spot of maximum torque.

Oh how happy the two of us suddenly became!

Just look at this photo of the start of the road, I took it a couple of days later from a cable car, how can you not enjoy yourself on that road?

We arrived at the hotel absolutely knackered, which is a quaint old British phrase meaning worn-out, but as I staggered into the reception I had a big stupid grin on my face!

Next day dawned a bit brighter, but the weather forecast was “Changeable.”

Over breakfast I looked out over the Western edge of the Dolomites; I’d ridden just over a thousand miles to get here and I wasn’t about to let a bit of “Changeable” stop me on my mission!

I finished my rather splendid frühstück (breakfast) and hit the road; first up was the delightful SP73, could it get better? Oh yes it could!

The weather accurately lived up to the forecast. We are in high mountains after all and what we missed from time to time in panoramas, we gained by flying through swirling clouds and savouring fantastic glimpses of stunning limestone crags.

Our route cut right into the heart of the Dolomite mountain range; I work on the basis that if you don’t do the big ones, then frankly, you are not really trying! First we crossed Passo di Costalungo (1745m) then headed for Passo di Fedaia (2075m),
Giau (2230m), followed by the famous “Sella Ring” of Falzarego (2105m), Valparolo (2197m), Campolongo (1875m), Gardena (2121m), Sella (2240m) and Pordoi (2239m).

At the top of Passo di Giau is a delightful “Refugio,” a sort of cross between a bar, restaurant and hotel. This being the South Tyrol, I went native and enjoyed an “Apfelstrudel und Kaffee” for lunch and very good it was too. Just the thing to set me up for the hard work of the Sella Ring.

Biker fuel.

Not only was the food good, but inside, yes inside, the café was one of my all time favourite motorcycles, a Honda 500 Four, Young Dookes drooled over these bikes and I’d still love to have one today!
It’s a funny thing riding hairpins in the clouds, there’s no distracting views; it’s just you, the road and the motorbike. To be honest I’m not always a great lover of hairpins, I find that they disrupt my riding rhythm too much, but on this day they kept coming and I can honestly say that I was really enjoying myself. At the start of the South West climb to Passo di Giau, was a sign, “34 Tornante,” (34 Hairpins) each one was then numbered…after riding 22 I found myself screaming out, “No! There’s only another 12 left!”

Passo di Giau

What a contrast to last year trying to slog “Big Baby Blue” up Stelvio…

This was heavenly, in a totally indulgent two-wheeled petrol-head sort of way!

I was so glad that I brought “Harls” with me; I really wouldn’t have enjoyed it, or probably even attempted it on “Big Baby Blue.” The more I got into the swing of things, the better my beloved “Harls” responded. True, she’s a bit of a handful going downhill; the rear brake has a delightful habit of fading as it gets hot or wet, but fortunately her engine braking helps out a lot, then hey I’m sort of used to it and wouldn’t have her any other way.

“Harls” – the true star of the show!


We trundled back to the hotel having crossed off the ten highest paved passes in the Dolomites, that first beer before dinner tasted good and I think that we thoroughly earned it. . .

Not bad for an Old Geezer on a getting on a bit Harley Softail!

“I’ve decided what I’m gonna do,
I’m packing my bags for the Misty Mountains.”

Catch you soon.

Dookes