This is the 2nd half of a bike trip in Summer 2020 with a friend. Read about our trip from Geneva to Genova.

Day 0: Genova to Lago Trasimeno

We got lucky – a family friend of Francesco was driving from Genova to Rome, and was able to take us, along with two bikes and bike bags, in his sedan. We stopped for dinner in Firenze (Florence) and slept soundly at a campground north of Perugia.

Day 1: Lago Trasimeno to Spoleto

Having fully recovered, we were eager to get cycling again. In continuation with our trip from Geneva to Genova, the weather was just perfect, as was starting nearly every morning with great coffee and croissants.

A mix of good pavement, compact gravel, and good views kept us going until the sight of our next destination lured us in – the magnificent town of Assisi.

We spent most of the afternoon exploring this amazing town.

We cycled along a bike path until we could pitch our tent under the cover of darkenss.

Day 2: Spoleto – Piano Grande di Norcia

What was I saying about the Italian breakfasts being one of the best things about biking here?

We spent most of the morning exploring Spoleto. Its architecture, churches, and food were worth taking time to appreciate.

We may have gone a bit overboard with our lunch, including a truffle-infused egg scramble, smokey parmigiana, seafood pasta and prosecco.

Only around 3pm did we depart, and after making a wrong turn and getting caught in a storm, we were finally really cycling after 4pm.

The path followed an old railway for roughly 10km, including a 2km long pitch black tunnel, and terrain that was barely rideable on a road bike. Little did we know some of the terrain we'd encounter later on the trip...

We had a nice, smooth and fast ride to Norcia, where we had a nice dinner with monk-brewed local beer.

Departing after 9pm, we started on what we thought was a minor uphill to a plateau. Unfortunately, or trusty app guided us up a 25% gradient road, followed by equally steep hiking trails. Well after 10pm we were dragging and pushing our bikes for over an hour.

With our energy and moral drained, we nearly camped on the hiking path, but we decided to press on, eventually finding the main road. Nearly 1000m of elevation gain later, we arrived in the plateau after midnight. We pitched our tent under the painting that was the Milky Way and passed out.

Day 3: Piano Grande – Lago di Campotosto

Little did we comprehend the beauty and uniqueness of this place until we awoke the next morning. Despite cloudy skies, the area was vast, desolate, and hauntingly beautiful.

We could have been mistaken if we had somehow transported to Mongolia overnight.

We climbed a little further above the floor of the plateau, reaching Castelluccio, where we had breakfast and met a bike tourer.

We left around 12pm, right as the sun was peeking through the clouds. From our perch, we finally realized that we were surrounded by lentil fields as as far as the eye could see, and luckily they were in bloom.

Our landscape of pristine natural beauty suddenly changed into a reminder of the carnage and power of nature as we passed through a region devastated by an earthquake in 2016. Amatrice, one of the hardest hit areas, still had a large miliary presence.

Nature once again turned beautiful on our way out of Amatrice towards Lago di Campotosto. The area felt pristine.

After a magical 15km along the lakeside, we reached our destination for the night – Agricampeggio Cardito. The concept of agricampeggios is wonderful – mix the basics of camping with the luxury of decadent local cuisine. We were welcomed with an aperol spritz and and the serenity of nature.

Dinner was at a fixed time and with a fixed, undisclosed menu. Even by Italian standards, it was sublime, and never ending. The owners took sympathy on us (as we were the only ones who didn't drive there) and gave us seconds on each of the many courses.

Day 4: Lago di Camptosto – Campo Imperatore

We headed off further into beautiful desolation. The landscape constantly changed from lush to shrub to desert to high alpine.

After a fantastically long descent, we pushed nearly 1000m upwards towards Campo Imperatore at just over 2000m. The landscape was truly breathtaking – especially when the monumental Corno Grande came into view. We stopped for quite some time to try to comprehend its scale.

On my way up, and after 3000km of bragging at how durable my bike was, I finally got my first flat tire. If only it were the last of the trip...

After reaching the top, we celebrated with ice cream and beers in the large touristic complex that most visitors simply drove or rode in a cable car up to.

To go even higher, we hiked up to Rifugio Duca degli Abruzzi for dinner, which we luckily had all to ourselves, and an incredible sunset made even better with good food and digestivi.

We hiked down in the dark and cycled a few kilometers back down to find a place to camp.

Day 5: Campo Imperatore – Pescara

We awoke to a gorgeously frigid view across landscapes seemingly devoid of humans – something quite rare in Western Europe. Today, we were on a mission – to make the train in Pescara by noon, on the coast and over 80km away. Luckily, we had 2000m of descending to do, and we were up early. That's where our luck fully stopped.

I filmed Francesco race by for the start of a glorious descent, then took my time to get going to fully appreciate the place (mentally and physically) we were at. Roughly 30 seconds or so after starting, by back tube blew out. Luckily (ok, this was the last bit of luck), I was able to stop without crashing.

Unluckily, a popped tube was the least of my worries, as I quickly noticed the massive tear in the tire itself. While this isn't usually the biggest of problems in cycling, for us it was catestrophic. With a hole in the tire, there is no way to protect the delicate tube that would, in ideal circumstances, keep me rolling over 60km to the nearest outpost of humanity. We had a few more tubes, and plenty of patch kits, but no extra tires.

We did, however, have tape. Well, Francesco did, so with no cell phone coverage, I had to wait for him to realize something was wrong and hope that he wouldn't have to reverse too much of the 2000m descent.

20 minutes later, we rigged up a solution. My Mechanical Engineering degree lead to us just wrapping the tire and wheel, where the hole was, in lots of tape – enough to act as a shield from the unforgiving Italian roads, but not too much to hit the brake pads or frame of the bike.

The following few hours were probably some of most tense and stressful times someone has had in such beautiful landscapes.

Luckily in a unlucky situation, the tube lasted for hours of biking of eggshell moments. Despite the glorious descent, I didn't dare go faster than 20km/h.

We made it remarkably far, until the tape gave way to a pebble, which ended the slow descent. Pulling over just on the precipice of civilization, we were out of supplies to continue rehabilitating the bike. With a train to catch, we tried our luck at hitchiking, but as mentioned, this luck had ran out.

We found one last scrap of luck when a passing cyclist saw us hitchiking and, after hearing about our situation, told us that there was a nearby bike store with tires.

10 minutes later, Francesco was back, and less than a minute after that, we were on our way with the final challenge – getting to the train station, almost 40km away, in exactly one hour.

Evidently, I didn't take photos of this last section of insanity, as we had to maintain speeds bending the rules of physics. Racing between cars, around turns, and on flat stretches, we did the equivelant of an all out sprint non-stop for almost an hour. My brain melted, only being held in a solid state by the rhythm of swapping lead and drafting positions every two minutes.

About 40 minutes in, we paused to check the route, and realized that we would miss the train. Sadness turned into content, which turned into joy as we calmly pedaled into Pescara, reveling the amazing summer of cycling adventures we had had in three countries, and to our Italian sendoff.