This article was produced in collaboration with Colnago, and was published in Issue 138 of Rouleur.
I have found cycling perfection. Give me the huge rocky cliffs of the Dolomites, azure skies with little fluffy clouds overhead, verdant meadows of grass and wildflowers, and perfectly engineered hairpin bends of asphalt arcing their way up pass and down valley, like cursive script written into the landscape. Give me the Passo Gardena, Passo Giau, Pordoi and Sella, their expansive views and a slab of apfelstrudel and espresso at the cafés at the top. Give me a Colnago C68 on which to ride these roads, because climbing faster means the uncomfortable bit lasts less time, even with the views to distract, and because descending fast is transcendent and liberating.
None of this is a revelation. The Dolomites have long been a cycling playground, and the region’s flagship gran fondo, the Maratona dles Dolomites, is hugely oversubscribed. There are 8,000 starters in the annual event, which takes place in early July, but well over 30,000 applicants. It’s not quite the London Marathon, the 2026 edition of which attracted over a million applicants for 60,000 places, but it’s one of the most popular amateur cycling events in the world, because the combination of physical challenge and beautiful scenery is a compelling draw.
The Maratona has no more capacity; however, the Alta Badia tourist office, which supports the Maratona, have devised the Supermaratona, a riding itinerary which draws heavily on the route and history of the event, in order that riders who haven’t been lucky enough to secure a place can still experience the climbs of the Dolomites. Though the parcours of the Maratona, crossing seven climbs, has been fixed since 2002, the course varied before that and the Supermaratona tackles the 13 climbs that have been used in the event. At 285 kilometres, it’s longer than the Maratona, which offers a choice of 55, 106 and 138 kilometres, but most cyclists will take two, three or more days to cover the distance. The Italian alpinist Hervé Barmasse, who is famous for achieving new routes on the Matterhorn and Mont Blanc and was heavily involved in the design of the Supermaratona route, did the distance in one day, taking 18 hours in July 2024. Anybody who completes the distance in less than 24 hours gets a place in the Supermaratona Hall of Fame, where Barmasse has been joined by 14 more riders in the year since. Rouleur, on the other hand, is riding with a local guide and a small group on the three-day itinerary: 120km and four climbs on day one, 85km and four climbs on day two, and 80km with five climbs on day three. Most of the 13 climbs top out around the 2,000-metre mark, but the starting point in Alta Badia is already at 1,328, and most of the itinerary is 1,000 metres or above. What’s more, it’s rare for the climbs to be more than 10 kilometres long. The Supermaratona is epic in its ambition, scale and beauty, but unless riders are aiming to knock it off in a day, it’s a reasonable challenge for a fit cyclist. However, more than that, it comes close to being the perfect bike ride: hard without being impossible, visually stunning and an exploration of overlapping cultures.
The Dolomites occupy a rough triangle in the northeast of the Italian Alps, and their name comes from the characteristic light-coloured dolomitic limestone of the region. Dolomitic limestone can be found around the world, but it is in this region that it finds its most scenic expression – the Dolomites are dominated by huge cliffs and rock formations which have been eroded into spectacular forms, with jagged edges, towering pinnacles and sawtooth ridges. These rise steeply from gently sloping meadows, so the dominant colours through summer are bright green, and the constantly changing colour of the dolomitic limestone cliffs. In bright sunshine, they are a pinkish beige, but the effect of sunrise and sunset leads to a phenomenon called enrosadira, where the rocks appear more of a reddish colour, even moving towards violet.
This is border country. We are in Italy, in the region of South Tyrol, but at various times in history, this has been part of the Holy Roman Empire, the Austrian Empire and Austria-Hungary. It was only after World War One that South Tyrol became Italian (Italy itself being a relatively young state at that point), and it still retains a significant degree of cultural and political autonomy. Perhaps it’s a function of having been swapped between empires at various times, but the impression is that this is a place apart – everybody speaks Italian, many speak German but most also speak Ladin, the local language, or a dialect thereof. Though the very roads that we will ride in the Supermaratona have linked the many valleys of South Tyrol and smoothed the movement of people between them, the harsh realities of long winters and isolation over the course of history have resulted in a fragmentation of cultures and dialects – groups of people who lived only a matter of kilometres from each other as the crow flies nonetheless developed their own version of Ladin. Ladin is a Romance language, but it is also influenced by Germanic languages, and has similarities to Switzerland’s Romansh. It’s protected by the Italian state, so effectively this region is bilingual. In the past, it was culturally and linguistically fragmented, but in the modern world it is emblematic of the movement of people, the overlapping of cultures and the magic that happens when humans mix with other humans.
The Supermaratona starts from Alta Badia, with a gentle drag up to Corvara, then the 10-kilometre climb to the summit of the Passo Gardena. The road describes a series of straight-ish lines connected by sweeping, perfectly engineered hairpin bends and so it sets the tone for almost the entirety of the route. The view down the valley is expansive; the giant rock formations of the Dolomites are hoving into sight. The sky is blue and the morning glow of the enrosadira has not quite faded, while patches of snow and ice not that far above our heads indicate that even if our mid-June ride has been blessed by perfect cycling conditions, winters here are long, cold and stubbornly extended. Good for the many, many ski stations dotted around this high-altitude region, but a reminder that even in summer, the weather of the Dolomites can make or break a bike ride.
The climbs of the Dolomites tend to rhyme – the Gardena, along with our second climb, the Sella and many more along the route, tend to gradients within a couple of percentage points of a comfortable seven; the switchbacks are shallow and wide; the views are never anything but incredible. However, the third climb of the Supermaratona, the Fedaia, which usually carries the subtitle of ‘Marmolada’ when it appears in the Giro d’Italia, is a little more direct, with straighter lines, tunnels and a single stack of hairpins just past halfway up. There’s a lake at the pass, and to the south, behind the lake, the towering rock of the Marmolada itself, at 3,343m the highest peak in the Dolomites, looms over the landscape. At the top of the Fedaia, as with most Dolomite passes, a restaurant serves local specialities like spaghetti with venison ragù, goulash and barley risotto, perfect fuel for the body and mind.
What follows is perhaps the most fun stretch of road in the entire Supermaratona – almost 40 kilometres of downhill, first steep from the pass, then a pleasurable drag down the valley to Agordo. At 609 metres’ altitude, Agordo is the low point of the entire Supermaratona, but given that we covered the 40 kilometres leading up to it in something less than an hour, it’s a high point of the ride. Creamy, sugary dolci served at the central gelateria make it even more so.
The last stop of the day in Agordo is perfectly timed to rest and prepare us for the final big challenge – the Passo Duran, which is unusual in Dolomite climbs for winding its way up largely under tree cover, without the expansive views of the more open climbs. At 1,601 metres, it’s low for a Dolomite pass, though the kilometre of altitude gain between bottom and top makes it a physically tough challenge, while the dearth of hairpins and the unvarying view of trees make it psychologically hard. It’s one of the hardest stretches of the Supermaratona, while the descent is narrower, with a less predictable road surface than the well-machined roads of most Dolomite passes. However, with our hotel coming halfway up the Forcella Staulanza, day one is done.
This region, tucked away in the northeast corner of Italy, is a comparatively well-kept secret, despite its popularity with skiers, cyclists and hikers. However, it will be the centre of world sport for two weeks in February 2026 during the Winter Olympics, which are shared between Milano and the Dolomite town of Cortina d’Ampezzo. Cortina is an upscale ski town of only 5,000 inhabitants, and opinion about the Olympics coming seems to be split between those who sense the commercial opportunities and those who fear that the Olympics will come in, overrun the town for a fortnight and then leave a mess behind; some of the hotel accommodation is nowhere near ready. The Alta Badia tourist office, the originators of the Supermaratona, are prioritising sustainability and eco-friendly tourism – the footprint of the Olympics may squash some of these aims. What’s noticeable is that when we cycle through the town on day two, the traffic which is exacerbated by the many roadworks and building projects, is anything but environmentally friendly.
But this is a rarity in the region – our day’s route took us up the second half of the Forcella Staulanza and then the intimidating Passo Giau, statistically the hardest climb of the Supermaratona. The maths is really easy – it’s 10km long and rises 1,000 metres, at an average gradient of 10 per cent. However, the relentless grind up the first half of the climb, through trees and straights that are longer than really feels comfortable, is easily compensated for by the expansive views from the summit and the open nature of the landscape, with nothing but huge cliffs around, empty space above and hazy air softening the distance.
The final day of the Supermaratona was an adapted version of the ‘Sellaronda’ circuit which is renowned for being one of the most beautiful medium-distance bike rides in the world. From Corvara, which followed after a morning climb to the top of Passo Falzarego, the itinerary took us over the Passo Campolongo and Passo Pordoi, then over Passo Sella and Passo Gardena in the opposite direction to the way we took on day one. Passo Pordoi may be the most aesthetically pleasing and typical Dolomite climb of the entire route – a well-engineered road, climbing up in steps and stacks from the town of Arabba, and a visually impressive summit, visible from a long way off, between two towering Dolomite cliffs. And the final reward at the summit of the Passo Gardena, the 13th and last climb of the Supermaratona, is the 15-kilometre descent to the finish back in Corvara, a fast, exciting and exhilarating schuss into the valley. But the biggest reward of all is the memory of three days and 285 kilometres where scenery, perfect cycling and a challenging route come together in a perfect combination.
Colnago C68 - A bike with soul
We can measure, assess and quantify rides like never before – ordinary riders have access to data that even professionals from a decade ago simply couldn’t imagine. However, what has never changed is that bike riding is not just about performance, it is about soul and feelings. Tadej Pogačar needs his bike to access the kind of explosive power and endurance that wins Grand Tours and Classics; those of us who also ride for fun need our bikes to access the enjoyment of life on two wheels. The Colnago C68 I used to ride the Supermaratona plugged me straight into three days of responsive climbing, incredibly fun descending and the feeling that I was at one with the landscape and the road.
In fact, the Colnago C68 could have been designed with rides like the Supermaratona in mind. The C68 has been deliberately pitched towards vibes and feeling rather than performance, though it also does the latter impeccably. It’s not a bike for a WorldTour professional – Colnago has other models for that, including those ridden by Tadej Pogačar – but it’s a bike for people who love fast cycling and the feeling of covering ground. When it was launched, Colnago described it as having a totally new soul based on performance but also oriented towards riding enjoyment – it’s relaxed rather than twitchy, but it’s fast and a lot of fun. Small details like the wider diameter of the steerer tube making for more control over the steering and a slightly more race-centred geometry than a more endurance-focused bike mean that it’s fast, but it’s also quintessentially modern, with enough clearance for 32mm tyres. It’s a modular carbon frame, put together with the attention to detail and historic knowledge, experience and expertise of Colnago.
My model was equipped with Shimano Dura Ace throughout, so no complaints there – shifting was faultless, the gearing just about wide enough to handle repeated Dolomite passes, which tend to be comparatively gentle and don’t often rise above 10 per cent. As for the Maratona’s infamous Mür dl Giat, a 400m-long kicker which reaches 19 per cent and serves as a sting in the tail of the big event, I just hunkered down and ground my way up. It wasn’t the C68’s fault that this didn’t happen at speed – and the bike’s rigidity made it less of an ordeal than it might have been. The wheels were Vision Metron 45 SCs, an aero addition which felt snappy and fast. Without significant wind, these added significantly to the feeling that I was covering ground fast.
The bike worked perfectly; it also felt appropriate to be riding one of Italy’s most iconic bike brands in one of Italy’s most iconic cycling locations. But beyond the physical experience of getting from A to B efficiently and fast, it enabled me to access the more abstract feelings of liberation, potential, emotion and je ne sais quoi – the real reasons we all ride.
