the Campotosto Mystic Trip 5 - "Rebirth"

More than two years after the last time we were there, we finally returned to our forest retreat in the mountains, and it was good to be there.

Witold is rightly enjoying his BSA, and is in that phase common to many rebuilds where the bike works, albeit with small issues that need to be addressed. This is a good thing, and the more things you fix, the easier it becomes to isolate a particular problem and make it right. After a while the result is a "well fettled" machine that can be reliable and a real pleasure to ride.
There are currently two things that need to be resolved: the throttle slide getting stuck in the fully open position (terrifying) and an unruly oil return line (annoying).

Above: an elegant solution of refined simplicity.

The itinerary for the day saw us meet partly along the way, as I come from the Monolith and have the pleasure of riding around 70Kms through the countryside before I emerge at the Vicovaro exit of the A24, where I joined Marco on his 980cc "sport scrambler" BMW, and Witold.

From there, we followed the Tiburtina at a brisk pace and peeled off northwards to the town of Tufo Basso, then Leofreni, Pescorocchiano, and on until we reached the ever stunning altopiano di Rascino, only this time we stopped at "Casale Calabrese" for lunch.
There is a short, but rough, trail leading up to the place, and it pays to tread carefully. That said, nothing that'll stop a British bike (or Marco's BMW):

Great food and hospitality, but it was soon time to leave, only I didn't make it very far as the rear chain on my Commando snapped... again.

It's unclear what exactly happened, whether I was just unlucky and picked up a stone that got in between one of the sprockets and the chain (breaking it), or whether this is a faulty chain, or again there could be a clearance issue more serious than what I had previously thought.
Long story short, this time it was not the master link that jumped ship, but two links that snapped. Luckily I had two spare master links, and luckier still the folks at Casale Calabrese had an angle grinder that they let me borrow so I could somehow fix the chain. Witold was, as always, very helpful and we got rid of the broken links with a screwdriver and a big hefty rock.
We sat in the middle of a field, with zero radio signal reception, some cows looking over us, banging on a broken chain with a rock; then we looked at each other and said, with the truest, utmost enthusiasm: "I've missed going out on the bikes, this is so cool". You either get it or you don't.
Then we patched up the chain with three master links and off we went, the chain audibly hitting something (for sure the Asatek shock absorber at times, and either the gearbox case, or the inner primary chaincase). Anyway, that chain is now done, and I have to replace it, but I also have to check clearances and alignment more accurately, as this is obviously a problem at the moment.
Other than that, the Commando performed beautifully, and it is now such a super-smooth ride that you can really appreciate the overall quality of the machine, the engine, the gearbox, the frame... it's all amazing.

This late in the year, with fairly low temperatures, high likelihood of rain (although we were so lucky, not a drop!), it's understandable that we had the place to ourselves.
We set up right under the trees, in the woods, and were perfectly sheltered from the wind that blew all night. The air was fresh and beneficial to astral travels once more.

Above: Marco's BMW is at the pinnacle of refinment, certainly the best it's ever looked or performed, thanks to uncle Fester's Mystic Motors outfit.

This wonderful place up in the mountains and so secluded, truly feels like home, and Mauro & Antonella are more than gracious hosts. I can't wait to come back here again.

As is tradition, we sat outside looking at the lake and the Gran Sasso peak in the distance, with a bottle of red wine, bread and cheese, all very local products of course.
As the afternoon gradually turns into evening and the light fades, you'll find yourself going indoor where the fire is getting nice and hot, and Mauro is busy grilling. The whole staff look after you with such care, it's really special.
Food and drink keep on coming, and it's all so good. A local shepherd had just dropped off a batch of freshly made ricotta, and it was still warm: delicious doesn't even begin to describe it.
Eventually you'll have to say "basta" and close things off with a bit of genziana moonshine: this time Mauro had a special vecchia riserva in addition to his regular recipe. Both were lovely, but the aged one was my favorite for sure, with almost no alcohol and a full-bodied taste from the sacred root.

After that, it's just a matter of burrowing into the tents and getting all nice and cozy. With a low of 7.4° that night (Celsius, you savages!), a good sleeping bag and an extra blanket are all you need to be extremely comfortable, which I certainly was.
Emerging from the tents in the morning, to a glorious sunny sky and crisp mountain air is enough to put anyone in a good mood. Even packing up is not a chore, but simply more time spent in this beautiful little corner of the world; a quick breakfast and hugs all 'round marked the end of the trip.

The Norton got me home under its own steam, though I rode very slowly the whole way back, constantly thinking "come on, just get me home, you can do it. Get me home and then I'll fix you". So the winter months are going to see one more bike up for maintenance (and the workshop has a busy schedule as it is!).

It was so good to go on this ride as the original three, hence the rebirth of the Campotosto Mystic Trip: it's regeneration or palingenesis if you will.
Thank you Marco & Witold, and here's to the next one.