To Maniago

September 29, 2021

Team Anderson is starting to feel guilty about hogging all the best weather, but what can we do about it? Curse those lucky Andersons, I’m sure some of you have been thinking lately. Really, it’s not our fault. We don’t have an in with the weather gods or anything like that, but you could be excused for thinking so and resenting us for it.

The streak continues. Last night we went to bed planning to get up early and make a dash for today’s stop in Maniago before the expected rains begin at 11 and thunderstorms followed in the afternoon. When we wake up this morning though the onset of rain has pushed out two hours; and by the time we start biking at about 9 it has moved out further still, now not commencing until 3. We drop plans to pack for rain and leave town under pleasant conditions. It’s in the mid-sixties already, with a high of 75 ahead.

Leaving Gemona, crossing the Tagliamento. Nice that there’s little traffic on this long, narrow, shoulderless bridge.

Other than for our detour to Kranjska Gora we’ve been following the CAAR route (the Alpe Adria cycle path) ever since leaving Salzburg. We’re parting ways here though. CAAR continues southeast across the Venetian plain through Udine and Palmanova before arriving at the Adriatic at Grado. We’ve decided to stay close to the mountains though and turn west here, following the piedmont cycle route as it traces the southern edge of the Dolomites. The Pedemontana Ciclovia- that has to be a brilliant ride, just from the sounds of it.

The route begins with a crossing of the Tagliamento. Once across the river we follow it westwards, now on its right bank, for several miles as it rolls over a few small rises. We’re just on the shoulderless road but it’s very quiet. We pass as many bikes as cars, and we don’t see many of either.

Looking upriver along the Tagliamento. I would love to come back and see what this river looks like during spring runoff.

Looking back at Gemona from across the river.

This looks like an easy enough photo to take, but not so. Look at the photo above to see how narrow the bridge is. It was a challenge to get to the camera far enough away from the bike to fit it in the frame without both the camera and I tumbling into the river.

Peonis, an attractive little village with a funny name. Spell-check keeps trying to correct it.

We biked along the east bank of the Tagliamento for a few miles, the road rolling enough to give us rewarding views.

Eight miles into the ride we’re thoroughly enjoying ourselves when we come upon a spectacle that will stand as one of the high points of the whole year when we pass through the Lake Comino Natural Reserve, a feature on our route we hadn’t even noticed in planning out the day. It includes a high rocky escarpment that first catches our attention because of its reddish color. We’re just sharing opinions on how like southern Utah or Arizona this feels, when Rachael spots a large bird soaring above the cliffs. A vulture, I conjecture. Then there are two; then ten; then a hundred or two. We stare up spellbound for the next ten minutes as vultures stream in and congregate above the cliff, swooping and souring ceaselessly.

Griffon vultures. It reminds us immediately about the similar swarm of vultures in Monfrague Natural Park in Extremadura that we watched with amazement two years ago. A short ways down the road we come across an information panel. The park here exists largely to support the reintroduction of Griffon vultures, a species that was nearing extinction in Western Europe decades ago, to the eastern Alps.

The vultures are too high up and far off to capture a decent photo, but the video does pretty well. If this is a new species to you or you’ve forgotten what a Griffon vulture looks like, This close-up photo I was lucky enough to capture in Southern Portugal will help you recognize the species the next time you see one.

We particularly liked this stretch of the road where we passed beneath a colorful red escarpment above. At first we were attracted by the rock face, until we looked more closely.

Griffon vultures! There must have been one to two hundred of them, endlessly soaring back and forth above the ridge and occasionally coming to roost on a crag or snag. We watched in wonder for five or ten minutes, long enough that my neck ached by the time we finally moved on.

Nothing else we’ll see today will top this, we’re sure. We watch them soar until our necks are sore and then move on. As wonderful as it was riding the Alpe Adria yesterday, unexpected encounters like today’s are a real high for both of us, our favorite type of touring experience.

The colors and clarity of little Lake Comino are surreal. Not visible from this vantage point, but from the right spots you can see the vultures soaring above mirrored in the water. [A correction, from Bill: they are visible in this photo, if you zoom in enough.]

We enjoy a fine ride the rest of the way to Maniago, continuing to follow the well marked FVG3, the Pedemontana Ciclovia. About halfway into the ride the route leaves the quiet roads we’vd been cyclinf on so far for even quieter, even less traveled roads and then to what are little more than footpaths. No dramatic sights, but the countryside is beautiful as we pass by small farms, wood lots and the occasional stream or river crossing. We also pass through the tiny village of Toppo, labeled at its entrance to identify it as one of the most beautiful villages in Italy. There’s so little to see here that it’s hard to understand its designation, but this article gives some background. It would have been worth a longer look if we’d known more what to look for.

Cucumbers or squash? [Identified by Bill: this is loofah, the same plant that produces the bathroom sponge of the same name.]

Crossing the Arzino, a minor tributary of the Tagliamento.

Some of the best cycling roads look something like this.

In Toppo, designated as one of the most beautiful villages in Italy. I think this is a row of Masi, described in the linked article about the village as “ family-run rural farmhouses which were the foundation stone of agriculture in the Middle Ages.”

Beyond Toppo, we look at the sky and start growing anxious about the look of the sky. With still about twelve miles to go, Rachael informs me that it’s time to pick up the pace. No more photo stops except for the exceptional ones that you just can’t pass up.

It looks like those 3 PM thunderstorms might roll in right on schedule.

Here’s one such stop. A bean field, a sunlit ridge, a hang glider. How can we not stop here?

Or this painter’s shed, or so I presume. Must stop.

And, of course we’re stopping on the narrow bridge across the Meduna River. Crowding against the low steel railing and disregarding the few cars passing close behind my back, we take time to soak in the best view of the day.

Video sound track: Out in the Country, by Three Dog Night

The ride ends with either bad luck or uncommonly good luck, depending on how you think about these sort of things. It’s still dry when we bike into Maniago, which is of course very good. And in fact the rain, once it finally does come, won’t arrive until about 6. The bad luck is that we collect our fourth flat tire of the tour just as we’re entering town. Disappointing, but we can’t complain - it’s been nearly a thousand miles since the last one - way back on the other side of Heidelberg. And we really have no complaints because we’re only a third of a mile from our hotel rather than miles away on some in sheltered spot along the road, worried about whether the rains will arrive while I’m repairing it. I try pumping it up, which holds for a few hundred yards only; and then give it up and we just walk the rest of the way to the hotel together.

We’re staying here in Maniago at Albergo Montenegro, a casual place that partners with the attached patisserie/trattoria. I hole up in the room for awhile catching up on the CycleBlaze world while Rachael goes shopping for tomorrow’s lunch materials. And then about five I head downstairs to have at the tire. I never do find the flattening agent, but from the location of the puncture it looks like an inside job. I look at the rim strip for a probable cause but don’t see anything. Worrying, but with nothing else obvious to be done I just repair the tube and hope for the best. It’s the same tire as the other three flats, of course. We could still be looking at purchasing a new tire before the end of the tour.

Timing is impeccable. I’ve just finished remounting the wheel and am packing up when the first few drops fall. By the time I make it back up to the room it’s raining in earnest, and before long it’s a downpour - the hardest rain we’ve seen since before Heidelberg. Later in the evening we’ll be treated to a pyrotechnic display that lasts into the middle of the night. It’s a wonderful feeling to be inside and dry with the window open, listening to the sounds of rain and thunder as we doze off.

Four! That’s four in 43 riding days, with perhaps another 30 or so remaining. Updated flat tire projection for the tour: 7.

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Ride stats today: 34 miles, 1,600’; for the tour: 1,599 miles, 56,900’

Today's ride: 34 miles (55 km)
Total: 1,599 miles (2,573 km)

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Comment on this entry	Comment	3

Andrea BrownThis has just been such a wonderful route, very inspiring.
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2 years ago

Scott AndersonTo Andrea BrownWe feel so fortunate in how this has worked out. We’ve really been improvising ever since we left Salzburg, figuring it out a few days at a time. It’s hard to see how it could have been any better so far.

Well, I could have taken Ms. Brown’s good advice a month ago and bought a new tire, but other than that.
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2 years ago

Rich FrasierGreat route, writing, and photos!
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2 years ago