The nocturnality of motorcycles - 15

 

Majella tour 5. - Solo edition

  

With the Sportster once again fighting-fit, I was eager to get back to the mountains but unfortunately none of my usual cohorts could get away. I hesitated but kept thinking "I need my mountains" so I toured solo this time and it turned out to be a very different kind of experience that was actually quite enjoyable. I rode at my own pace and perhaps more importantly I stopped at my own pace, enjoying the beautiful scenery and contemplating nature for hours on end in almost perfect silence.

I decided that since I had a few uninterrupted days at my disposal, the best way to spend them was by doing a full loop of the Majella park, something I hadn't really done since a couple of years ago. I could then finish things off with a trip over to Campotosto and a last night at our favorite place in the forest.
In another unlikely choice, I went autostrada all the way on day 1, actually enjoying the steady cruising at around 100kph with the engine turning over at an easy 3.000rpm. I reached Sulmona, climbed up to Pacentro and stopped just before the start of the loop. 

I left the bike and climbed up a small embankment until I reached a meadow that was otherwise totally hidden from view, from the road.

Here I sat and gradually felt all thoughts become smaller and more insignificant, until the presence of the mountain became my only concern. 

Insects buzzing around me, birds signing in the the trees off in the distance, and something moving around in the woods right next to me (a deer? a boar?) the only sounds. It was fairly late in the afternoon and the light was beginning to mellow, making the western flank of the mountain glow yellow and grey. As this sort of meditation grew to a close, by itself, I stood up and returned to the bike. There is a spring nearby and I spent a while cooling off, enjoying the cold water on my hands, my arms, splashing my face and washing off the day's dust, then I fired up the twin and entered the circuit, all the while trying to remain humble and not assume I was just going to do it, but rather just hoping the mountain would accept me.

I reached Campo di Giove, where we had stayed before, but continued until just after the town to find a campsite I'd never stayed at before, in the most beautiful setting:

With almost no one else staying there I was just surrounded by trees and flowers, the setting sun turning the sky a deep shade of pink right before night took over, shrouding the Majella from view. It was a night full of fresh air and a steady breeze. I drifted off wondering what the following day would bring, to the sound of wind in the boughs and the occasional drizzle.

I had plenty of time for day 2, so I moved slow and dedicated my full attention to every single action, no matter how insignificant. This is no new discovery of course, but if you're "present in the moment" the experience will be fuller. This is why I may have been away only a few days when seen from this plane of existence, but in reality I was gone far longer than that.

I was able to take all the luggage off the Sportster (except for a fuel reserve bottle) and this always makes an enormous difference in terms of pure riding enjoyment, and all the more so in a place like the Majella park. All I had with me in a light backpack was the rain gear, a small bottle of water, a blanket and some small bits and ends. As it turned out I could have left it all in the tent (except for the water) though of course I would never gamble like that up here.

The first part of the day begins with coffee right outside the tent and then off without pause all the way to the southern tip, with virtually no traffic and an eagerness from the bike that makes me - once again - think "honestly, why would I bother ever riding anything else but this?!". I think I also figured out the Dynojet kit and basically there can be tractability if you ride easy on the throttle, or there is punchy performance if you're more decisive with it. What it doesn't like is downshifting into a tight hairpin, revs all the way down, and then opening the throttle expecting instant response: that just won't happen, and instead the engine will feel bogged down for a second before it can catch up again. So you have to  either keep the revs up a bit for a sportier style or else go easy and enjoy the view. Having understood that, the ride became much more enjoyable and smoother overall.

Above: my first long stop for the day was at the Sant'Angelo lake, admittedly a little bit off the closest possible loop of the park, but a very worthwhile diversion in terms of scenery, the ability to shelter from the heat in the hottest part of the day, and having a terrific restaurant nearby.

My next stop shortly after that was for one of the best simple lunches in recent memory: grilled chicken and fresh tomato salad. As straightforward as it was full of flavor and just delicious. I must have drank a couple liters of water by that point and I probably should have had some electrolytes as well. 

The heat was very noticeable when I set off again approaching the circuit once more, although at that point the road starts climbing again quite rapidly so you're soon in cooler air.

There is a stunning photograph of the Majella complex taken from the International Space Station available here. It makes me appreciate what a proper jaunt this really is, and I hope I can come back soon either with friends or on my own again. You can also see lake Sant'Angelo as the eye-shaped body of water on the right-hand third of the image, about halfway down:

Of the very few motorcycles I encountered during this trip, none was like the Sportster. The bike handled so well and was so much more enjoyable without luggage. I do need new tires, that much is certain and I don't think I can delay this much longer. It all depends on whether or not I can ride (the Sportster) again this year, otherwise it may be wiser to do this next spring.

As I'm climbing up towards Pretoro nature calls and when you gotta go, you gotta go. A desperate scramble into the woods and all is well again, I can continue to the highest point in the circuit. Reaching the top requires excellent depth perception as you're well above the tree line and there are very few reference points, so overshooting a corner is easily possible and to be avoided at all cost. It's not uncommon to ride through a cloud and as any aviator will tell you, it's important to stay focused and not get distracted by the experience.

I shut off the engine and park as far as motorized vehicles are allowed. Suddenly there is a special type of silence, and the wind races all around you with no obstacles in its way. It is pure, cold, mountain air.

A fox came out to see what all the fuss was about:

Up here where few people come, there is plenty of time and space to enjoy a cold beer and relax in the sunshine. This was the other long stop that day and a few hours went by before I set off again. I would have liked to have waited until sunset, to recreate an otherworldly moment from the first time we came up here years ago: as you ride down towards Roccamorice, you're treated to the most breathtaking view of the whole park, and if you time it just right, it's basically as if you're engulfed by the orange light of the sunset and you glide downhill surrounded by color and warmth in a way that makes you question whether you've been transported to another reality. It also means completing the loop at night, though that's not too much of an issue as the north-west quadrant has wide, easy roads and it's a gradual descent towards Campo di Giove.
This time though, I think the mountain had had enough of me and it was time to go: the wind grew stronger, temperatures dropped significantly and dark clouds started forming off in the distance, advancing slowly but surely towards the peak. The view on the way down was no less special, ears popping as you descend 1.400 meters to the valley below. It pays to pause for just a moment (no need to turn the engine off) and to look back, upwards to see where you were and get a sense of how huge this rock really is. 

The rest of the evening is to concentrate on closing the loop, it's a relaxed ride with very little traffic and it concludes with the arrival back at the campsite and that feeling I always get a the end of a special day like this: a mix between stunned silence, excitement and a true understanding of the purpose of motorcycles. This is what they're for.

I kept looking at the western flank of the mountain as it changed color in the approaching dusk, until it was bright pink. There was near perfect silence as I turned in for the night; usually the first couple of minutes into the tent are spent getting into the sleeping bag and adjusting yourself to be as comfortable as possible, and it can sometimes take a while before you get to that moment where everything feels comfortable and you can finally drift off to the astral plane. But this time I think it was almost instantaneous; I pulled the hood of my sleeping bag over my head, turned over on my side and felt completely snug, warm and cozy. I think I fell asleep with a smile on my face.

I awoke again to birdsong and the sun beaming down, the heat quickly rising and the mountain cloaked in clouds. The forecast for the day, especially at altitude was a bad one, so I had to readjust my itinerary for a safer option. With everything once again packed up on the bike I set off towards Pacentro, Sulmona and northwest by west towards L'Aquila. How cool is it that this city is just called "the eagle"?

On my way up to Campotosto I made a detour to a very scenic spot we had discovered during our very first foray into Abruzzo, a decade ago on our BMWs. This was the perfect opportunity to finally revisit that place and, once again, spend a few hours just enjoying nature, the colors, scents and sounds in addition to those things that go beyond the senses.

I watched that cloud front in the image above come and go, move over the hills below me, disappear and come back again and again but thankfully never quite reaching where I was. This was the perfect spot for a quick lunch, a nap in the shade and a coffee afterwards:

What wonderful solitude! The best thing about this trip was the silence; a land vast and empty of people and therefore full of tranquility. Wind the loudest thing around, aside from the Sportster, and time to think, or better yet not think and simply be, traversing this land so strong and kind as they say.

Eventually I set off again for the final part of the mighty SS80 until I reached the lake and the campsite. With hardly anyone there but a few compact camper vans, there was peace and quiet and plenty of daylight left to set up the tent and leave a few things to air out.

Another wonderful evening in the Halls of Shambhala was the perfect conclusion to this unusual but magnificent trip. The Sportster performed marvelously, the weather was perfect, the food and scenery second to none.

A lot of people claim they seek "change" or "betterment" yet I never see them up here. You wanna feel changed? Come along next time and see for yourself...