Motorcycle Touring the Alps

Editor's Note: This story is from Cycle World Travel & Adventure, a special print issue chock-full of features dedicated to two-wheeled touring and adventure travel. Copies are available for purchase here.

When you see that loathsome “Ice!” warning light blinking on your motorcycle’s dash, it’s never a happy thing. Even less so when you’re atop one of the highest, most winding passes in the Alps. Oh, and did I mention the glacial fog or how the falling rain has begun to float?

Yet, somehow, this feels okay. Even good. Some brand-new buddies and I are on Edelweiss Bike Travel’s “Alps Extreme” tour, and that means we’re getting our money’s worth, right? There is nothing about a warm, sunny day in the Dolomites that says “extreme.” Plus, if you know your Edelweiss tours, you’ll know that your guide has it all under control. Before things get truly hairy, you will be snuggling up to a wood stove, sipping a cup of steaming hot chocolate made from the milk of the cow next door.

Really.

I took my first Edelweiss tour back in 1988. I was just a baby and so was the company. Today, this Austrian-based company is the largest purveyor of motorcycle tours in the world, with 70-some offerings in Africa, Asia, North America, South America, and, of course, Europe, with the Alps as home field. Edelweiss tours are famously luxurious. Even when you’re roaming to adventurous destinations, like Tanzania or Peru, your luggage will be carried in a chase vehicle and delivered to your room each night. Your wife can be, too. There will be multiple guides, super-comfortable hotels, and even replacement bikes in case you biff. And often most memorable—especially when you step on the scale at home—is the great food and plenty of it.

Edelweiss invented the luxury guided moto-tour market, and, yes, the cost of tours is also famously high-end. That’s why the “Alps Extreme” ride caught my eye. The company classifies it as a “Ride 4 Fun” tour, which basically means no chase van or luggage transport and typically only a single guide and a small group. This makes it more affordable. Even better, these tours are created for people who want to lay down huge miles in a tidy amount of time, say a week, in order to make the most of their working-stiff world-vacation windows.

So days are longer and the roads more challenging. In addition to the most famous passes, you'll untangle a treasure box of top-secret single-laners and clamber up some true alpine goat paths to overnight at small and unique gasthaus-style inns. It's not for sissies, but it is for the everyman.

WORKING CLASS

There’s no pomp in this group. Three of our six—Leslie, Kenny, and Alan—are young guys working for a mining operation in Minnesota. Leslie is a semi-retired heavy-equipment mechanic out of Oklahoma, and Wim Doms has ridden his own R1200GS down from Belgium. Our guide, Manuel, is young and enthusiastic. All humble guys—the guys you want to have a König Pilsener with at the end of the day. Not some fruity chardonnay.

And tough. Man. Leslie is a Harley guy, and he’s come dressed like one. Shorty helmet, fingerless gloves. Every day he wears just a T-shirt and leather jacket. He does have leather chaps. But it’s beyond cold up on the passes. It’s October in the Alps, so even a sunny day stings. But no matter what, Leslie is smiling and having the time of his life. We’re all chilly most of the time, but it’s well worth it to ride the Alps in fall, after the hordes of squids and lollygaggers have put it away. We have the best motorcycle roads in the world to ourselves, and that is delicious.

Our fun begins right out of the gate in Innsbruck, Austria. We check out the Olympic bobsled run that is the centerpiece of town then head toward South Tyrol. We're dicing up a pass right away, which leads to our first strudel stop. This is the strudel we all remember before we lose count. It turns out our guide Manuel is not only a rider (professional for BMW), but he's also an expert strudel hunter. It will soon become our sport as well.

These are my first turns on the Ducati Multi­strada 1200 S Granturismo with which I’ve been armed. It’s a snarly-sounding, sexy-looking bike, loaded with technology: ride by wire with electronic mode adjustment, Ducati Traction Control (DTC), ABS and Skyhook suspension (DSS), which continually adjusts damping. It’s a boatload of stuff to figure out, especially on the fly. It will take several days to decide I like the DSS best set on Touring + rider with luggage and mostly leave it that way. The Sport setting feels a little tight for the bumpy Alpine roads. Most interesting is that the smallest change in settings creates a notable difference in the performance of the bike.

The best part of the Multi­strada is the super lively Testastretta 11° L-twin that belts out a claimed 150 hp. The engine is tuned for touring but still a little hyper for those walking-speed switchbacks. In that situation, I missed my usual torque-happy companion, BMW's R1200GS.

The Multistrada Granturismo lives up to its name with all the available packing space. Seventy-three liters between the panniers and a massive top case as well. It was tempting to keep camera gear in the trunk for easy access, but the bike is so tall that loading too much up top made it feel like balancing a ball on a stick.

DUCATIS, JUST LIKE ITALIAN GIRLS

Kenny and I are both riding Granturismos, and the heated grips of his bike are finicky, sometimes preferring not to work (poor Kenny). Manuel makes us all laugh, saying Ducatis are just like Italian women: “Very moody but usually worth it.”

Later that day, we claw our way up 29 switchbacks to reach the Kaunertal Glacier, where we get our first taste of glacial fog and icy rain. It’s beautiful up here though, with calico-colored tundra and pocket lakes that radiate like aquamarine jewels. By the time we flick our way back down the 29 hairpins we’re ready to tuck into some hearty Austrian food and German beer. We sleep like babies.

Day two and we’re riding the most famous pass in all of Europe: Stelvio. It’s a man-eater of a thing; Italy’s highest pass at 9,045 feet, and the third highest in the Alps, dishing out 48 gnarly switchbacks on its face. At the top, we share a restaurant with skiers and fill up on hot soup (and, yes, strudel). We’ve approached from the south, which means we’ll be taking our medicine going downhill. Interesting to note, the switchbacks, which I’ve always ridden up, are easier to swallow on the descent because when you get caught playing chicken with a car—and you will—you can just snap in the clutch and drop it in as easy as you please.

A friend asked me a great question. "Why the heck would you want to ride a road like that? It's so repetitive—not graceful at all." Good point. It's not easy, nor particularly fun to ride the Stelvio switchbacks, but it is a challenge, satisfying, and great to feel a part of history. Stelvio was first opened in 1818. That's crazy when you think about it. It took two years and 2,000 workers to build. Moto Guzzi named its adventure bike in its honor, and Stirling Moss has flown from its edge.

ALPS EXTREMELY EXTREME

However, on this trip, Stelvio is only one main event. We’re deeper into Italy now, and every day yields a crop of perfect motorcycle roads, many tucked away and nearly untraveled, punctuated by ancient walled cities, pristine mountain lakes, and lots of pastry and pasta. The background track is cowbells and church chimes, clinking glasses, and laughter. It doesn’t get better.

But it does get cold. The day before had been a “rest day” in Levico, Italy, which involved an eight-hour loop down to Lake Garda and up and over the mountains flanking its west shore. Just one road on this loop paid out 800 corners. Another spindling bit takes you through a series of raw-rock cliffside tunnels on a road so narrow you won’t believe it’s to be driven in both directions…until you meet your first camper in a blind corner.

Our last two days are spent burning off strudel to stay warm. When we awaken in our cozy hillside hotel in Toblach, the view of the Dolomites we are intending to cross is hidden by a curtain of white. The bikes are completely covered in snow. We nurse cappuccinos until noon, waiting to see what the heavens have in store. Finally, the angels start to sing. The sun punches holes in the storm, and the jagged, giant Dolomites crash into view.

Europe’s highest and most scenic pass, the mighty Grossglockner, which peaks at a toe-numbing 8,215 feet, has been saved for our last day. We brush the snow from our bikes and race toward the sky.

See, it’s not always a bad thing when your “Ice!” warning light blinks. Every now and then it means everything is totally cool.

Why: Riding the Alps is a must-do for any rider. With the roads, scenery, delicious food (especially in Italy), and moto-friendly culture, it's like you've died and gone to motorcycle heaven. And of all the extreme dreams, riding the Alps is the most accessible. The famous passes are the main draw, though be warned that in the summer months the tourists are jumping like fleas on a dog. Thousands of bikes every day, plus the campers, buses, and cars that clog the way. I prefer autumn, when the roads are empty and views sharp (it's often hazy in summer). Yes, it can get a bit chilly, but there is always the warm strudel and hot chocolate. And yes, the exchange rate is tough, and riding here is not cheap. But the best things in life rarely are.

How: This was my 10th Edelweiss tour. It is the most professional, well-organized motorcycle touring company you will ever find. This eight-day Alps Extreme tour starts at $2,170, less air travel, lunches, and drinks. That's pretty fair for a guaranteed good time. If you're wanting to go big, you can do the Alps with swagger (and spas) on one of the outfit's "Classic" or "Royal" tours. And, of course, you can just land in any of the nearby cities and explore the Alps on a rental bike, sans guides. If so, a GPS is essential because each crossroads will have more signs than you can read…in a language you can't read. For me, I like to relax and know I'm enjoying the very best roads and not just guessing by how they look on the map.

Wore: I was lucky enough to be wearing Dainese's G. Temporale D-Dry jacket. Thankfully, it lived up to its "D"-for-"dry" name on this wet adventure. It's a comfortable and extremely versatile piece ($399.95). On the bottom: fabulous and likewise versatile Evo D-Dry pants ($329.95), Sprog-S Lady Gore-Tex gloves, which for $179.95 should keep your hands dry (they do), and for my cold feet, tried-and-true Sidi Canyon Gore-Tex boots ($360). A Bell Star helmet ($549.95) protected me from the bad stuff (freezing rain), and its optional Transitions SolFX Photochromic face shield ($119.95) was of huge benefit for riding in such erratic weather. Yes, a lot of dough from head to toe, but just ask the guys on my ride how much they think good gear is worth.