On the Road: "Veneto Trail - Take two"

After my last participation in the Veneto Trail in 2021, it was actually crystal clear to me to leave it as a one-time experience. The arduous 460 kilometers over rough terrain, the desperate overnight stay in the haystack beside the road, the endless exhaustion - all these experiences, each unpleasant enough on its own, were highly dispensable when combined.

So exactly how I ended up taking part in the Veneto Trail 2022 I cannot really explain rationally - was it the onset of dementia that prompted me? Possibly.

The route differs this year only in details from last year’s, so I know almost all the key points. A big advantage, because I know where I need to conserve energy, which climbs lie ahead of me and where there are supermarkets and bars.
In Italy you have an almost permanent oversupply of provisioning options. Every cafe along the way tests my endurance; if I stopped at every inviting bar, I’d be on the road for 4 days.

The route passes through beautiful alpine pastures, past Lago di Corlo, and then winds on north. The next 80 kilometres are mostly flat and can be covered without major problems, but still take a good five hours. Around 5 p.m. I reach Agordo, where I take my lunch break. Pizza, pasta — carbohydrates above all and quickly! The slowly falling evening makes me hesitant — 160 kilometres done, just under 300 to go.
My good knowledge of the route also has a clear downside, because I know exactly where the Hotel Orso Grigio in Pescul is located, and how conveniently situated it is: just before the strenuous section from Malga Prendera to Forcella Ambrizzola. Around 9 p.m. I reach the said lodging, and while others are just switching on their headlamps, I treat myself to a long, hot shower.

In Nevegal you imagine yourself already close to the finish; the summit of the mountain can’t be far. But appearances are deceiving. Here, at the foot of a lift installation, the second part of the climb only begins.
Five more kilometres are worked out to the top, hairpin after hairpin, until you finally spot the supposed end of the road. But just because the improved road ends here doesn’t mean you’ve reached the goal. Around every bend you think you can make out the alleged Visentin, only to be disappointed time and again: Monte Faverghera (1.611 m), followed by Col Toront (1.655 m) and Col del Gài (1.745 m), before you can finally make out in the distance the objective, the final boss: Col Visentin (1.776 m).

After more than 13 hours of riding I had conquered the last mountain of the tour. The last rays of light stroked my skin as the sun slowly sank behind the mountains. The cold is noticeable immediately — there’s no time to lose. For that I always carry my Castelli Idro jacket; there’s nothing better in this pack size to stay warm on descents.
The descent first runs over a wide, unpaved road, with scree everywhere. Fist-sized loose stones combined with steeply dropping embankments make the downhill a true experience. If you really want to give it a go here, it’s advisable to notify mountain rescue in advance.
The short, paved stretch that follows invites you to open up, but even here: don’t get your hopes up too soon. Because after only a few hairpins it climbs again to Col de Poiatte, an unremarkable intermediate stop.
From there you join the European long-distance trail E7, or at least a section of it. Beware — the name perhaps already gives it away — the hiking trail is not necessarily designed for cyclists. Definitely not for medium- to heavily-loaded gravel bikes in total darkness, but that’s another story. My recommendation: a short push is definitely worth it.

Finally arrived in Lago, at Lago di Lago, I can breathe a sigh of relief — the hardest part is done, it's just after 10 p.m. and I still have 80 kilometres ahead of me. Supposedly flat, however there are still roughly 700 metres of elevation hidden somewhere along the way. I decide against one last stop in Cison di Valmarino, although I would have really wanted it. But my body has already switched to energy‑saving mode. I know that any more breaks won't change anything now. The aim is to get the sheep safely home.
The route winds through what are likely — hard to tell in the dark — picturesque landscapes, past the world‑famous vineyards of Valdobbiadene and the fortress of Asolo, the town known as the "Pearl of Treviso".
I can't really take any of that in consciously anymore; I focus on not falling off the bike. My legs get heavier with every pedal stroke, my back refuses to cooperate, and concentration is long gone. A delirious state, but without euphoria or exuberance, more like the supposed last seconds before death, when life flashes once more before the mind's eye.

After 243 kilometres for the day I pass Asolo, the truly final climb is done, only 28 kilometres now stand between me and the finish line. The landscape changes rapidly, I find myself in a web of country lanes and allotment gardens, left turns follow right turns, I can practically smell the finish.
Shortly before 3 a.m. I reach the finish utterly spent — you could say: marked. I sit down in the deckchair and fall asleep immediately.