The Italian job: the thrills of a great alpine challenge

The Colle delle Finestre in the Cottian Alps is tucked into the north western edge of Italy, just on the border with France. In name it is fairly innocuous and may not be the first mountain pass to spring to mind when one thinks of the giants of road cycle racing. But what it lacks in infamy it more than makes up for in character, with the final 8km of the 18km climb being on unpacked road.

I first remember seeing the Finestre when it was included as part of the Giro d’Italia stage race in 2005.

Indeed, the rough track harked back to images of baroudeurs (adventurous hill cyclists) battling up climbs in the halcyon days of road cycling, tubular tyres wrapped around their shoulders, aluminium bottles on their handlebars and gravel roads stretching up into the clouds ahead of them.

So it was with great excitement that a colleague and I managed to steal a few hours in between work commitments to get a ride from Susa to the summit of the Finestre, and then round by Sestriere, before descending to Susa again.

The weather the night before was ominous as flashes of lightning and rumbles of thunder kept me awake.

When morning came it was mercifully dry, but the thunderstorm was still making its presence known.

Looking at the hillside as we approached it was impossible to see any road making its way up the steep slopes through the thick tree cover.

Very quickly the road kicked up and we climbed upwards into the mist. The trees hung solemnly, dripping water, and the air was thick and heavy. The only sound was our heavy breathing, the distant rumbles of thunder and the occasional curse as our back wheels slipped on the greasy tarmac.

Before long we came to a roadside spring and gate marking the end of the tarmac section of road – ahead lay rim denting, inner tube-bursting gravel and potholes.

We heard two motorbikes coming up behind us to overtake. It was good to know we weren’t the only ones foolish enough to undertake this road.

The concentration needed to keep the bike moving forward meant that the gradient never really seemed much like a problem.

As we got higher the hairpin bends proved more difficult with the motorbikes chewing up the surface and making forward movement difficult.

Behind us the mist blew through, offering glimpses of a primordial landscape.

At the top we were greeted by a group of Italians shouting “Bravo!” and inexplicably offering us meringues from the boot of their car. We declined, but accepted their offer to take our summit photo. Ahead we still had 40km to go, but behind us lay 18km of some of the best and most enjoyable riding I had done in recent years. The climb was so different from any other rides I have done and it will stay in my memory for many years to come.

Scot and Katia on the summit of Finestre.