Heading out on a bike trip gives me great satisfaction. When you start the journey, it feels like an ordinary ride of a couple of hours, but when you return, days later, you’ll have a few hundred kilometers more in your legs.

On this trip we had 700, and we were out for most of four days.

As usual, we find ourselves assembling the pile of things needed for the trip, never too punctual, never too late. We put various things, some of which we’ll never use, in our bags and attach everything to the bikes. Not having to board a train, or catch a flight, or take a trip by car before getting on our bikes gives us a certain advantage: if you leave late, you can decide to shorten that day’s ride while you’re out on the road, or finish later …

Cento lives in a special place, Villa Angarano. We get on our bikes and the children in the courtyard, seeing the bags attached to our frames, understand that it could be days before we return.

Every so often, Cristiano switches bikes while riding around the courtyard to let us know that he could follow us on the road and even off-road, if he wanted …

While waiting to see us leave, they ride around the courtyard on their bikes in a group, checking the door of No. 6. When we say goodbye, they look at us as if we were the parents they’d always wanted.

Riding in our area is rewarding. We’ve come to the conclusion that it’s the means by which we move — in our case, by bike — that brings real satisfaction. Cycling helps us to enter places and hearts by eliminating long faces and fears. If you “enter” with a smile, you are welcomed and met with a smile. The only problem with getting around by bike: drivers.

In Italy, they haven’t yet figured out how to protect cyclists, so a few mutual raised fingers are de rigueur when you decide to ride on the road as well as off.

We find a little bit of everything along the way, and having started in the late afternoon, here the first encounter is with dozens and dozens of slimy frogs, hypnotized by the headlights of our bikes along the trails and roads after a heavy storm.

Finding last-minute accommodations is very easy for us. Usually this is my job, and, due to some strange circumstance, even after hearing “Sorry, we’re full” several times, some incredibly beautiful, often characteristic, place always turns up in the end. The statement “We’re coming by bike and we’re looking for accommodations to stay dry” can sometimes be a plus that helps us be accepted in beautiful places, as well as a minus that gets us excluded by those who don’t understand that we aren’t vagrants …

Feltre really welcomed us. Michela, the owner of a beautiful B&B in the center, urged us to bring our bikes inside the apartment for safety and left the key under the doormat, since we wouldn’t be able to get there to check in before 1:00 a.m. Having said that, she wished us a good trip on the phone and told us we could pay with a bank transfer after we finished the ride … no rush.

The flooring in her apartment reminded us of East Berlin, but totally restored and spotless.
The bikes felt safe.

From the mountains to the sea was our plan.

The rain welcomed us to the sea as we enjoyed generous portions of mixed fried seafood by the water in Caorle. There was also abundant rain, which made us return inland, as the weather forecast advised and where we took shelter under the roof of the terrace of an abandoned inn before Treviso. In the morning we realized we also had a sink supplied with hot water to our left, and it was nice to be able to clean ourselves up a bit.

We ride to Treviso along the Restera, which is always pleasant. It’s best avoided on summer weekends, though, since you sometimes come across even more people than mosquitoes.

Along the riverbank leading to Padova, we meet a pair of Italian wolves, as elegant as they are stern, and totally irresistible. Ste couldn’t decide whether to give up the bikes or the dogs …

Belluno was a peony, Jesolo calla lilies, Abano Terme a magnolia, Polesine an onion …

Polesine was fun, full of character, with dreary and crumbling architecture, filled with endless fields of wheat, carpets of grass, onions, some rice fields, and tractors of all ages and sizes.

The atmosphere heats up on the wheat fields, which reflect a warm light that almost seems like yellow desert. The owner of the bar where we drink a double espresso after riding for more than an hour without breakfast greets us by asking us to take off our masks because his town is Covid-free. So we do.

It was pouring in Verona, so we have no photos, and by Lonigo we were so drenched that we took off some of our soaking-wet clothes. It was incredible on the first climb in the Berici Hills to gorge ourselves on cherries that were as swollen with water as we were, since it had rained hard there shortly before as well.

We’ve had our fill of cherries for the whole of 2021. In 2022 I think I’ll be back to do it all over again.

The gravel descent after about 20 kilometers in the hills saw us off and gave the momentum to push hard toward home. Too bad the way home was a slight false flat uphill, but the cherries were enough to get us there, where, as usual, we sit outside the house to drink and eat whatever was in the refrigerator.
The children didn’t see us arrive. Predictably, it was too late. Start late, finish late …

Make sure to follow Cento Canesio (@cento_canesio), Nadia Moro (@nadiamoro)

Pictures by Nadia Moro
(@nadiamoro)

For most, conversations about family vacations often bring to mind visions of childhood memories: long car rides, busy tourist sites and fights with siblings. But that’s not the case for Downhill and Enduro athletes Caro and Anita Gehrig—at least not these days. Recently, as the twins prepared to set off for a four-day bikepacking trip through Switzerland and Italy, they received a surprising request. Their 66-year-old dad, Karl, wanted to tag along! Despite their planned long distances, large climbs and nights spent out under the stars, they happily welcomed him aboard. All he’d need to do first is find a bike to ride.

“Our trip started a few days later,” Anita recalls. “We looked like Eskimos wrapped in all the clothes we had brought with us, standing atop the 2,149-meter Ofen Pass.” The trio had traveled by train, then bus, to reach the starting point for their cycling trip, met upon arrival by wintery conditions but hopeful that spring would be waiting further down the road. “We were excited about what the next few days would bring. We were going on a family adventure.”

Day one was scheduled to be the longest of the trip, covering 200 kilometers from the high mountain pass, across the Italian border, and onward to the town of Rovereto. “Fast-paced towards South Tyrol, the apple blossoms had just reached their peak,” Anita explains, “and the bike path meandered through orchards for kilometers.” Happy to enjoy the higher temperatures the lower elevations were providing, the family still had a long ways to go before they could call it a day. “We had never ridden so far in one go, but the route was mostly slightly downhill and should therefore be easy—at least, that’s what I thought to myself while planning.” But they hadn’t taken into account the strong headwind they’d find themselves fighting all day long.

“We finally reached our destination at Rovereto,” Anita says, “stinking of sweat and a bit bruised, but we couldn’t help but laugh. ‘Papi, you legend. Like vagabonds, we sit with our takeaway pizza and beer, and you’re right here with us, enjoying all this nonsense!’” Bivouacking beside the bike path, the girls helped their father set up camp before calling it a night, waking the next morning to a pleasant surprise. “We expected our father to say something like ‘Everything hurts’ after all the hard riding, but he was in a good mood, full of energy and ready for action!”

After enjoying a quick breakfast and helping Karl repack his camping supplies, they were back on the road and rolling; 150km stood between the trio and Santa Caterina, with a lot to see in between. “The landscape slowly opened up as we moved further and further away from the mountains of South Tyrol towards the Po Valley and along Lake Garda,” Anita tells us. “In bright sunshine and warm temperatures, you can travel at a brisk cruising speed.” But with legs tired from the previous day’s distance and facing a bumpy bike path for the last 50k, Anita, Caro and Karl were happy to find a bit of relief in Santa Caterina.

“The next morning, we’d have to get going faster, Caro and I decided after a quick look at the weather app,” Anita remembers. With rain on the horizon, their plan, though well intentioned, didn’t materialize. Between packing their own bikes and helping their father prepare his gear, they were off to another late start. “It’s funny how we noticed the distribution of roles change; Our dad took care of us for half our lives, and now it is us providing him with this carefree adventure package: routes, food, planning and packing prepared. Papi is just here as our passenger.”

Before long, the rain had reached them, bringing with it a cool breeze—the perfect excuse for a lunch stop. The family found shelter in a local restaurant, ordering everything on the menu to satisfy their hard-earned hunger. Full, but still facing rain, they made their way out of town and into the foothills of the Apennines. “We knew we still had a fight ahead to reach our goal for the day, as steep climbs with tired legs are a real treat. We came to the agreement that, with so much luggage on our bikes, we should calculate our altitude difference at 1.5 times the rate. So really, we’d be climbing well over 2,000 meters today!”

Ending their day with a chilly dip in Lago di Suviana, Anita, Caro and Karl spent the evening sleeping beside a small, empty house as rain fell overhead on the roof of the small terrace. The weather hadn’t improved by the following morning, but with only 65km left in their trip, family spirits were perhaps the only thing not dampened by the downpour.

Instead, Anita recalls being even more thankful to have found suitable shelter the night before. “Luckily, nobody had come during the night and chased us away. We didn’t even care anymore that we had to stuff wet equipment in our bikepacking bags. Tonight, we’d get to sleep in a real bed again!”

Ticking off the final kilometers over quiet, soaked roads, they made their way towards the finish line of their trip: the village of Montorsoli and the Accademia del Caffè Espresso, a museum and learning center run by the Gehrig girls’ sponsor, La Marzocco. Greeted with hot espresso and enthusiastic congratulations from the museum staff, all celebrated the travelers’ fortitude, especially that of first-time bikepacker Karl.

“The Italians were really impressed by the hardships our Papi had endured with us. As a silver fox, he deserves the most respect for moving so far out of his comfort zone,” Anita states, sharing one final sentiment, “We proudly celebrate that adventure has no age, you just have to be willing to try.”

Follow all the twins’ adventures on Instagram @caro_gehrig and @anitagehrig and maybe find a bit of inspiration to start planning your next family vacation.