MARATONA DLES DOLOMITES
WE TAKE A LOOK AT THE WORLD’ S PRETTIEST GRAN FONDO
he transfer from Venice airport to the heart of the Italian Dolomites takes between two and three hours, which is plenty of time to reflect on the enormity of the task ahead of you. When I first did the Maratona dles Dolomites back in 2012, my bus transfer included a group of riders from the island of Malta. They were veterans of the event, and took great glee in pointing out every nuance in camber and gradient as our bus joined the final section of the race route before arriving in the finish town of Corvara.
“But how did you train for an event with more than 4000 metres of climbing on a tiny Mediterranean island without any mountains?” I asked. “Easy,” they replied. “Our biggest hill is 200 metres above sea level. We just ride up and down that all day.”
Seven years later, I am back for the Maratona, and learn that my taxi driver took part in the very first event in 1987.
“There were just 160 of us,” he says. “It was 175km long and I rode it on my mountain bike. It took all day. I’ve never done it since.”
The Maratona dles Dolomites – ‘dles’ means ‘of the’ in the local, Ladin language – has grown into one of the biggest cycling events in Europe, regularly attracting more than 30,000 applicants from 82 nations for just 9000 places. Though most treat it as a sportive, it is technically a race and a major date on Italy’s competitive gran fondo calendar. Since 2002, it has been broadcast live on national TV.
While my taxi driver and his fellow pioneers from the local cycling club had just the one route option of 175km with seven mountain passes, the modern-day Maratona o ers a choice of three routes: 55km over four passes with 1780 metres of climbing; 106km with six passes and 3130 metres, or 138km with seven passes – including the fearsome Giau - and 4230 metres.
The one thing they all have in common, however, is fully-closed roads through some of the most distinctive mountain scenery you will find anywhere in the world – the Dolomites have been recognised as a UNESCO World Heritage Site since 2009. If the gradients don’t take your breath away, the views probably will.
Riders have resorted to various ingenious methods of keeping warm as we assemble for the 6.30am start, ranging from bin liners to disposable polypropylene boiler suits. Despite my bleary-eyed fears, the marshalling of 9000 riders into their respective pens along a narrow valley road is executed remarkably smoothly.
A couple of TV helicopters buzz overhead. One of these stays with the leading pack, but the other will pay regular visits to those of us trailing behind in the various gruppettos (groups towards the back of a race). It gives us all a sense of purpose, knowing that a panel of commentators and pundits in a TV studio is interested in our fate as we grind up successive steep climbs hours behind the leaders.
There are also TV motorbikes dotted amongst the peloton, and some of the more impressionable amongst us are lured into foolhardy and reckless displays of bravado to get our sponsors’ some airtime. I don’t know whether my CyclingPlus jersey ever appeared in the living rooms of RAI TV (Italian state broadcaster) viewers the length of Italy, but I do know that my solo attempt at bridging the gap between one group riding at a modest pace to another group further up the road riding at an equally modest pace has left me fighting for breath before we’ve even arrived at the start of the first climb.
Having started in one of the front pens, my acceleration has kept me ahead of the majority of the 9000-strong peloton as we hit the steep, lower slopes of the Campolongo climb. I’d heard horror stories of riders becoming gridlocked here and forced to dismount and push. Thankfully, I have enough clear air in front of me to keep up a brisk rhythm.
As the gradient settles down and the road straightens out for its final, long drag to the pass, I’m overtaken by another TV motorbike with the camera pointing in my direction. I immediately adopt my stock, heroic pose - manly grimace, standing out the saddle - only to find myself being e ortlessly overtaken by the camera’s real subject, former F1 driver Alex Zanardi who, since losing both legs in a crash in 2001, has become a gold medal-winning Paralympian hand cyclist and darling of Italy.
Dozens of fans lining the climb suddenly start chanting his name and waving at the TV camera as I fade back into obscurity. Olympic and world road race champion Paolo Bettini and bike designer Fausto Pinarello are amongst the other famous faces in the peloton.
No sooner have we descended into the village of Arabba when the road immediately tilts up
Riders have resorted to various ingenious methods of keeping warm for the 6.30am start, from bin liners to disposable polypropylene boiler suits
again towards the Passo Pordoi with a sign informing us that the climb will last for 9.4 kilometres at an average gradient of seven per cent. This is one of those ‘mythical climbs’ that has regularly featured in the Giro. Fausto Coppi was the first over it on five occasions and there’s a handsome monument to him at the top, though our view of it is slightly obscured by the trio of lederhosen-clad alpenhorn players waiting to welcome us.
The climb to the Passo Sella – at 2244 metres, the highest point of the route – is a short (5.5km) but nasty affair, with an average gradient of eight per cent and a steepest section of 12 per cent. Up until now, I’ve been swept along on a wave of emotion and endorphins generated by the scenery and sense of camaraderie within the peloton, even though few of us speak the same language. But near the top my legs start to feel heavy for the first time. I pull over to take a photograph of a dramatic-looking hairpin below, careful to signal my intentions to the
MARATONA DLES DOLOMITES
Next year’s event takes place on Sunday 5 July. Pre-entry registration, costing €2, opens in October at maratona.it.
More than 30,000 riders regularly apply for 9000 places. Names will be drawn in the second half of November, with a full list published at the website. If you are one of the lucky ones, you will have to complete full registration between December and April. The entry fee for 2019 was €115, plus a returnable €10 deposit on your timing chip. You will also need to submit a medical certificate. If you’re not lucky, don’t despair – anyone who applies five consecutive years without success gets guaranteed entry the sixth time.
As well as fully-closed roads and generously-stocked feed stations, your fee includes an impressive goody bag containing an official Castelli race jersey and a gilet that has been made from 47 recycled water bottles as part of the event’s commitment to reduce its carbon footprint.
But a word of warning – also amongst the contents are various energy bars and gels including one sachet marked Fatigue Relief Gel. An Aussie rider going through some dark moments near the end of the race reached into his back pocket and swallowed the gel in one, only to realise (as he was retching at the roadside shortly afterwards) that it was meant to be applied externally to his legs. Don’t worry Dave Parker from Melbourne, your secret’s safe with me.
IF YOU CAN’T DO THE MARATONA…
If you’re an unsuccessful applicant, there are two other dates that might interest you...
DOLOMITES BIKE DAY
Saturday 13 June 2020. A 51km loop featuring the Campolongo, Falzarego and Valparola passes will be closed to traffic from 9am to 3pm. Entry is free, you don’t have to register and you can join and leave anywhere along the route. dolomitesbikeday.it
SELL ARONDA BIKE DAY
Saturday 27 June 2020: Same as above, but this time it’s a 55km loop around the Sella Massif with 1700 metres of climbing including the Campolongo, Pordoi, Sella and Gardena passes. sellarondabikeday.com
I’ve been swept along on a wave of emotion and endorphins generated by the scenery and camaraderie within the peloton