#YOLOMITES5000 V6.0
ARE YOU OK?
We're about six hours, 100km, and 4000m into the hardest one day ride I've ever done. I'm having a really, really rough moment, a rough hour at this point. A recent sickness, 36 hours of travel, ten time zones, horrible sleep because of those ten time zones, and just a plain bad day, and I can barely turn my pedals over - on the paved part of the climb, let alone the ultra steep dirt at the top - the icing on the proverbial cake. I'm wryly questioning the choices I've made in my life that have led me to this moment.
I slowly coast to a stop (aka I stop pedaling at 4kph and immediately stop) at the top of yet another nearly impossible dirt climb (and just as impossibly beautiful) in the Dolomites (Ciampeï!), and someone (I have no idea who) asks me: "Are you ok?"
There are smiling faces all around - enjoying my dark moment in only the way that friends can. Their smiles - their laughter - at my plight, mind you - somehow make me feel better.
"No, I am not ok. Not at all," I respond with a very, very tired smile and laugh (the faintest).
"Are you ok with not being ok?"
I wish I knew who asked me that (actually, I don't - I kind of love the mystery), because it was such a great question that went to the existential core of my bike riding life (all defenses are down - RED ALERT). It made me think for a half second (which felt like minutes in my addled state) and realize that - yes - I was very ok with not being ok, there was nowhere I would rather be, and somehow, it made me feel better, and I carried on, immediately ten points better.
And there, in the middle of all of this, is Igor Tavella.
I slowly coast to a stop (aka I stop pedaling at 4kph and immediately stop) at the top of yet another nearly impossible dirt climb (and just as impossibly beautiful) in the Dolomites (Ciampeï!), and someone (I have no idea who) asks me: "Are you ok?"
There are smiling faces all around - enjoying my dark moment in only the way that friends can. Their smiles - their laughter - at my plight, mind you - somehow make me feel better.
"No, I am not ok. Not at all," I respond with a very, very tired smile and laugh (the faintest).
"Are you ok with not being ok?"
I wish I knew who asked me that (actually, I don't - I kind of love the mystery), because it was such a great question that went to the existential core of my bike riding life (all defenses are down - RED ALERT). It made me think for a half second (which felt like minutes in my addled state) and realize that - yes - I was very ok with not being ok, there was nowhere I would rather be, and somehow, it made me feel better, and I carried on, immediately ten points better.
And there, in the middle of all of this, is Igor Tavella.
WHY?
The rational human looks at the first words and says: why don't you just go home? What's the point? Why not just ride some normal roads and some normal climbs? Why go so big? WHY? It's supposed to be fun.
To that, I say...because I/we love it? Because it's worth it. Because it's...fun. In its own weird way, I've found extraordinarily difficult bike rides to be some of the most satisfying things I've ever done as a human being. That's the short version of my thoughts on the topic.
It all started like all good/bad ideas do: riding bikes and daydreaming. It was May or June of 2016, and Igor was showing us all the incredible tiny farm roads, tracks, and paths there are to be enjoyed around Badia, Italy - far from the cars, motos, and buses of the main pass roads of the Dolomites. These small roads he introduced us to are amazing, but they come at a cost: they're always steep. There's no getting around that. Your entry fee to perfection is simple and honest.
So, while brainstorming and huffing and puffing my way up some kind of wall, I looked over at Igor, who was also huffing and puffing his way up the same wall, just at a few dozen rpms less than me, because at that point, he was still convinced that a 39x25 was enough.
"Igor!"
"Yes, that's me." He always says that.
I had an idea. Light bulb, if you will.
"Wouldn't it be fun if we made a route - as short as possible with the most climbing we could fit in it?"
It was clearly a dumb idea.
Igor liked this idea. He likes dumb ideas. Very much. And as it turns out, I'm quite good at dumb ideas. We get along.
"How many kilometers do you think it would take to climb 5000 meters?"
Why 5000? Because 5000 sounds good. That's the only reason. 3000 isn't enough, 4000 sounds better, 6000 sounds pretty good, but 5000 - it just has a ring to it. Yeah, 5000.
Igor thought for a while, did some calculations, and with sweat dripping off his face, his hairy legs churning that 1990's gearing, he made a startlingly accurate first guess of 120 kilometers. I was slightly crestfallen, because I had hoped for 100, but 120 seemed fine. I guess.
As for #yolomites5000? It was an oxygen-deprived joke of a name that stuck. Truly. The hashtag was a joke. That said, how can you NOT turn DOLO into YOLO? I can't take credit for YOLOMITES though. That's all Jonathan Atwell. I'm just a collector.
Before I forget: a link to Chiara's ride at this year's event. It's worth checking out.
To that, I say...because I/we love it? Because it's worth it. Because it's...fun. In its own weird way, I've found extraordinarily difficult bike rides to be some of the most satisfying things I've ever done as a human being. That's the short version of my thoughts on the topic.
It all started like all good/bad ideas do: riding bikes and daydreaming. It was May or June of 2016, and Igor was showing us all the incredible tiny farm roads, tracks, and paths there are to be enjoyed around Badia, Italy - far from the cars, motos, and buses of the main pass roads of the Dolomites. These small roads he introduced us to are amazing, but they come at a cost: they're always steep. There's no getting around that. Your entry fee to perfection is simple and honest.
So, while brainstorming and huffing and puffing my way up some kind of wall, I looked over at Igor, who was also huffing and puffing his way up the same wall, just at a few dozen rpms less than me, because at that point, he was still convinced that a 39x25 was enough.
"Igor!"
"Yes, that's me." He always says that.
I had an idea. Light bulb, if you will.
"Wouldn't it be fun if we made a route - as short as possible with the most climbing we could fit in it?"
It was clearly a dumb idea.
Igor liked this idea. He likes dumb ideas. Very much. And as it turns out, I'm quite good at dumb ideas. We get along.
"How many kilometers do you think it would take to climb 5000 meters?"
Why 5000? Because 5000 sounds good. That's the only reason. 3000 isn't enough, 4000 sounds better, 6000 sounds pretty good, but 5000 - it just has a ring to it. Yeah, 5000.
Igor thought for a while, did some calculations, and with sweat dripping off his face, his hairy legs churning that 1990's gearing, he made a startlingly accurate first guess of 120 kilometers. I was slightly crestfallen, because I had hoped for 100, but 120 seemed fine. I guess.
As for #yolomites5000? It was an oxygen-deprived joke of a name that stuck. Truly. The hashtag was a joke. That said, how can you NOT turn DOLO into YOLO? I can't take credit for YOLOMITES though. That's all Jonathan Atwell. I'm just a collector.
Before I forget: a link to Chiara's ride at this year's event. It's worth checking out.
IGOR TAVELLA.
And so it began. We both went home and started making routes. Of course, since Igor has spent nearly every single day of his entire long, long (long) life here in Alta Badia as a bike racer and proprietor of the Ustaria Posta with his Tavella family, he had/has a SLIGHT head start on me, so I sent ideas, he shook his head no, presented HIS ideas, I shook my head yes, and so it went. Igor with good ideas, Jered with bad ideas, and we met in the middle with a 97% Igor route with a lot of me agreeing: oh yes, this is very good.
But let it be known: I came up with the original idea.
And yes, I think I have enabled Igor. I woke a previously slumbering dragon and gave him permission to fly...and spray flames.
In long, thank you, Igor.
But let it be known: I came up with the original idea.
And yes, I think I have enabled Igor. I woke a previously slumbering dragon and gave him permission to fly...and spray flames.
In long, thank you, Igor.
REWIND THE TAPE.
So, the #yolomites5000 has become a thing - a small thing - but a thing no less. Each year, generally the first Saturday in September, a small-ish group gets together at the Ustaria Posta in Badia, and we go for a big bike ride. It starts at approximately 7:30 in the morning and finishes some time near dark. It's not a fast ride - we do a lot of slow climbing and a lot of waiting for most everyone to regroup (within reason). This is NOT a race. It never will be. If you want to go hard, you can; if you don't want to wait for anyone, you can do that too...but you will be riding by yourself.
We - the organizing committee - wish to underline the foundational principle of: slow is fun! We have all day - what's the rush? If it gets dark - we have lights!
We - the organizing committee - wish to underline the foundational principle of: slow is fun! We have all day - what's the rush? If it gets dark - we have lights!
SENSE OF ADVENTURE: MANDATORY.
The working conditions at the #yolomites5000 have improved drastically since the first one in 2016 when we were all on road bikes with a max easy gear of 34x32. Flats abounded, walking was quite normal, but we never really asked ourselves: are we on the wrong bikes for this?
Everyone was on a gravel bike this year - and we even had our first mountain bike (which did NOT look like a bad idea). In the end, this ride is hard. It's steep, there's a solid amount of dirt, it's often loose, it's a whole day of that - so at some point, most everyone seems to end up with their feet planted firmly on the ground...and walking (both up and down). If you're a little unlucky, you'll end up with your feet in the air, like Elmar in the image below, and a few others. :-)
Everyone was on a gravel bike this year - and we even had our first mountain bike (which did NOT look like a bad idea). In the end, this ride is hard. It's steep, there's a solid amount of dirt, it's often loose, it's a whole day of that - so at some point, most everyone seems to end up with their feet planted firmly on the ground...and walking (both up and down). If you're a little unlucky, you'll end up with your feet in the air, like Elmar in the image below, and a few others. :-)
LOOK UP!
Yes, of course, look up at the mountains around you, but even when the road rises savagely to greet your square pedaling legs - and your bars follow the tune and rise ever so close to your chin - do note the crosses that dot the countryside, the man cutting the grass with a scythe (a scythe!), that little kid blowing bubbles just above us, the hanging laundry billowing gently in the wind, that wood stacked ever so neatly in nearly every barnyard we pass. There's a whole beautiful world the #yolomites5000 takes in. There's nary a car to deal with, but you trade that for difficulty...and a heaven of sorts.
WHY? BECAUSE IT'S BEAUTIFUL.
WHY? BECAUSE IT REALLY IS FUN.
BECAUSE IT'S BEAUTIFUL.
I really can't stress this part enough.
COME FOR SATURDAY, STAY FOR SUNDAY.
Saturday is hard: really hard. I groveled my way through Saturday and thought: that's enough - I'm probably good on bike riding for the next month or two.
Then the murmurs of Sunday begin. At first, I shake my head no, no, no, absolutely not. I'm out. Then they grow in volume, grow in excitement, and once again (there's no getting away from it), I'm locked in for the now traditional 2.5 hour ride up to Pralongia and the outrageous beauty of the meadows and their 360 degree panorama of all that makes the Dolomites one of the most heart-stoppingly beautiful places I've ever had the chance to visit. It's fun. It's relaxed. It also includes a trip down the singletrack of the mountain bike park.
Then the murmurs of Sunday begin. At first, I shake my head no, no, no, absolutely not. I'm out. Then they grow in volume, grow in excitement, and once again (there's no getting away from it), I'm locked in for the now traditional 2.5 hour ride up to Pralongia and the outrageous beauty of the meadows and their 360 degree panorama of all that makes the Dolomites one of the most heart-stoppingly beautiful places I've ever had the chance to visit. It's fun. It's relaxed. It also includes a trip down the singletrack of the mountain bike park.
2022!
We are currently planning the #yolomites5000 v7.0 for September 10, 2022. If you're interested, reach out to igor@holimites.com...and bring a sense of adventure, some wide tires, and some really easy gears.
FOOTNOTES
Huge thanks to Igor Tavella, the Ustaria Posta, and everyone that makes this ride a ride worth doing. Words and Images: Jered Gruber...plus a few bonus beauties from Igor (of course!).
Huge thanks to Igor Tavella, the Ustaria Posta, and everyone that makes this ride a ride worth doing. Words and Images: Jered Gruber...plus a few bonus beauties from Igor (of course!).
RACING
2024 BUFF®-MEGAMO TEAM
One of the world's leading Cross Country Marathon (XCM) teams and participates in the most prestigious XCM races worldwide.
DISCOVER MORE
PODCAST
SPORTS NUTRITION EP. 4
Winter Training, Indoor Riding, Alcohol vs Performance, YoloMites5000
DISCOVER MORE
PODCAST
We Take Your Questions
Gabba and Perfetto, Nano Flex Tech, Gloves, Shoe-covers, and more
DISCOVER MORE
INSPIRATIONAL
Going Solo: Taking a Flyer
Ben Delaney shares his unique industry perspective and expert gear reviews
DISCOVER MORE
GRAVEL
SBT GRVL | Steamboat Springs, Colorado
More than a gravel race, SBT GRVL is a multi-day experience for both racers and fans
DISCOVER MORE