Passo Giau
With its unrelenting gradient, 29 hairpins and disarming beauty, it’s a wonder the Passo Giau doesn’t have more of a Grand Tour heritage
Don’t be fooled by the serene majesty of the surroundings. There is no gentle introduction to the Dolomites’ mighty Passo Giau
The Passo Giau is not a climb to start from the bottom. I don’t mean that you should start halfway up, but rather that you should start some way from the base of the climb near Selva di Cadore. Give yourself a run at it. Warm the legs, open up the lungs. Don’t do what I did. You see, for most of the climbs in this series, logistics mean that I simply set off at the base. Bang – straight into the gradient. Almost like an intimidating first date: no preamble, no drink at the bar, just, ‘How many children do you envisage having and what’s your salary?’
On climbs such as the Tre Cime di Laveredo (issue 80), this approach can make things uncomfortable at first, but then the gradient will ease a little to let you recover and regroup. Sometimes, blissfully, the climb
The twisting nature of the Giau means you can look back down on the hairpins you’ve ascended
will even have a mild incline at the outset, perhaps wending a way through some meadows, such as on the Col d’izoard (issue 90). This allows a chance to spin freely before the hard work begins, and if you’re lucky you even get some shade to shield you from the sun’s glare as you ascend.
None of this applies to the Giau. Unrelenting is probably the best description of this 9.5km climb in the Dolomites. And that’s not unrelenting at a manageable 6% or 7%, but rather unrelenting between 9% and 10%. Alright, there is a very brief dip to just below 8%, but that’s not really a rest – it’s more a case of finding a slightly smoother piece of wall to bang your head against. But there’s a reason the harder southern side of the Giau is the more famous: its setting is just so distractingly beautiful.
The turning off the SP251 onto the SP638 feels like the natural start to the climb, and instantly it’s picture-postcard stuff. The Codalonga river runs next to and sometimes underneath the road as you begin the ascent. It’s not just a measly trickle, either – it has stunning miniature waterfalls along its course that make the water foam as it tumbles downwards. Tall pine trees populate this lower landscape too, but not so densely as to obscure all views. In fact on a clear day you can see the distant peak of the Averau, a huge, pale loaf of rock standing proudly against the blue sky like a lone tooth in a mouth.
Climb by numbers
The climb’s 29 corners are numbered, which is depressing or encouraging depending on your state of mind and the sensations in your legs as you tick them off. What’s always motivating, though, is being able to see where you’ve been. The tightly twisting nature of the Giau means you can look back down on the hairpins you’ve just ascended, rather than simply worry about what’s to come.
If it’s hot there’s also some respite in the form of the cool darkness of the avalanche tunnels. To me these are the best type of tunnels, as they offer a welcome drop in temperature but still let in natural light thanks to being open on one side, giving you a regular gallery of windows through which to frame mental snapshots of the mountain view as you ride.
If it’s hot there’s also some respite in the form of the cool darkness of the avalanche tunnels