An extreme mountaineer of all people has designed what is probably the most extreme road bike tour in the Alps: Hervé Barmasse. The exceptional climber from Italy cycled the 13 peaks in the Dolomites in just 15 hours. To do so, he had to conquer, climb and conquer more than 8400 metres in altitude and sit in the saddle for 285 kilometres. Why did the man who normally climbs eight-thousanders in the Himalayas do the "Supermaratona"? He firmly believes that we all only have a limited amount of time to realise our goals and dreams. That is why we should endeavour to create something memorable. So first and foremost, he did it for himself. And for this reason, I also skied the Hell Ride in Alta Badia - albeit not in one go and not alone. But first things first.
Clean your bike once, please
The adventure begins in the entrance hall of the Melodia del Bosco bike hotel, near Pedraces. There stands "Bokšić", our guide for the next three days. "Bokš", as everyone calls him, is actually called Richard Feichtner, but looks a lot like the Croatian football star of the same name. Feichtner also used to play football, and at U.S. Alta Badia he played left wing like no other. The only thing he lacked was technique. However, this was not due to Richard, but to the fact that the football pitch was always covered in metres of snow in winter, meaning that training could hardly ever take place. As a result, the Alta Badia footballers were in top form on the pitch in spring after dozens of days of skiing, but in the first few games not a single ball arrived where it was supposed to. "At the start of the season, we played with ski boots on our feet," Feichtner recalls with a laugh.
Luck, the mechanic, wants to inspect my bike before we set off. He looks at me sternly and just says: "Dirty"
Now "Bokšić" conducts us through the Melodia del Bosco. Anyone who thinks this is a normal hotel where you can just hire a few racing bikes is mistaken. The bike cellar, which is as secure as Alcatraz prison in San Francisco, has some very special treasures stashed away. Guests from all over the world have parked their latest Pinarellos and Bassos there. So I push my Cannondale inside too. Luck, the Australian mechanic, wants to inspect my bike before we set off the next day. I'm curious to see what Luck will say. He first looks at my bike sceptically, then at me, sternly, like my primary school teacher once did. "Dirty," is all he says. Dirty. Together we decide that I'll clean it before our hellish ride.
8400 brutal metres in altitude
My Cannondale spick and span, my hair freshly done, we stand in front of the hotel the next morning with the other journalists who have been invited to get to know the new "Supermaratona". Also at the start: Edward from the British cycling magazine "Rouleur", Andreas from the "FAZ", Robin from "Lonely Planet", probably the best-known travel magazine on the planet. We want to cycle the route together.
Not the route of the "normal" Dolomites Marathon with a "paltry" 138 kilometres and 4200 metres of altitude, but the completely crazy "Supermaratona", which Barmasse has brought to life. This means, as already mentioned: 285 brutally strenuous kilometres, 8400 brutally steep metres of altitude, 13 brutal - and at the same time beautiful - passes. So: Gardena Pass, Sella Pass, Passo Fedaia, Duran, Staulanza, Giau, Tre Croci, Falzarego, Valparola, Campolongo, Pordoi - and then Gardena Pass and Sella Pass again.
As mountaineering legend Reinhold Messner always likes to say: "There are many hills in the world. But only a few beautiful mountains. The most beautiful are the Dolomites." I know from my own experience that you can disagree with Messner, but you should avoid doing so if at all possible. In this case, perhaps you don't have to, because Messner is right.
Extreme mountaineer Hervé Barmasse
Messner's much younger mountaineering colleague Barmasse climbed the Supermaratona for the first time last year. Non-stop. A veteran professional cyclist would certainly have been expected to do something like this, but a climber from the Aosta Valley? Who only took up road cycling four years ago?
The scion of a mountaineering family from the Aosta Valley, on the Italian side of the Matterhorn, has dedicated himself to the sport lock, stock and barrel. He trains on the rollers throughout the winter and on the road in the summer in order to "create a good aerobic basis for alpine training". Although he doesn't even sit in the saddle that much, Barmasse feels the need to explore the world of cycling more seriously and to train in a more structured way because he clearly notices the positive effects. He completed the Supermaratona in 15:09 hours. "On the bike, I wasn't sure whether I could manage these kilometres and metres of altitude on such an intensive day. But thanks to the experience I gained in the Himalayas, everything went well," says the man who climbed Shishapangma, one of the 14 eight-thousanders, together with David Göttler from Munich in 2017.
Reinhold Messner always emphasises that it is completely absurd for a society that has made productivity and profit the measure of prosperity to climb any mountains. After all, he wouldn't be producing anything or offering any services. Barmasse agrees with Messner. "From a utilitarian point of view, climbing mountains has no real benefit. Fortunately, human well-being is not only measured in terms of profit or tangible results. You can't buy emotions - you have to experience them," he says: "The Supermaratona was therefore an incredible opportunity to challenge myself in an environment that is not my usual terrain. To leave my comfort zone."
Barmasse now believes that cycling is the only sport that comes close to the feeling of climbing an eight-thousander. Before we set off on our cycling adventure, only eight cyclists have managed to complete the route in just one day: Two Italians, including Barmasse, one Dutchman and five Germans. You can read about it in the Supermaratona "Hall of Fame". You can document your ride of the Monster Marathon on this website by uploading the Strava link of the recording. Important: be honest! The organisation team reserves the right to exclude recordings with unrealistic speeds, for example if you are riding by car. And: The route must follow the specified course exactly. Even small deviations will lead to rejection. Of course, e-bikes are also prohibited.
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Day 1: 3800 vertical metres and lots of esprissi at the start
We'll see whether we experience anything memorable when we take the route from Barmasse. What is certain, however, are the general dates: We small pack of reporters will ride the route over three days, after all we want to see everything, talk to people and do some research. Nevertheless, 3800 metres in altitude are on the agenda for the first day. So we set off, first towards Corvara, then up to the legendary Gardena Pass, one of the most beautiful passes in the world. I do what I always do, I take photos. After two omelettes and three espressos, I'm panting like an old camel after just ten minutes, wondering how many pictures I've already taken of the pass? Hundreds? I don't have time to think about it. Our group is pushing really hard on the pedals. Staying on is the order of the day. So up to the pass, down, then left towards the Sella Pass.
Once at the top, the serious problems of life begin. The venison goulash with polenta looks great, but so do all the pasta dishes.
Once we reach the top, we tuck into an apricot brioche and another espresso at the Hotel Mariaflora. Then the Fedaia Pass is on the agenda, which I've never ridden before - which turns out to be an oversight. The route winds beautifully uphill, you pedal and collect metres after metres. Simply beautiful. Once we reach the top, we stop for lunch at the Rifugio Castiglioni. Now the serious problems of life begin. The venison goulash with polenta looks great, as does every pasta dish. I opt for the truffle version, followed by an apple strudel.
Weighing 84 kilos plus, I hurtle down into the valley like a torpedo. I've never experienced a descent like the one from Fedaia. The route reminds me of a mountain bike trail: so flowy, so relaxed, so cruisy. Then the fun soon comes to an end as we ride into the Duran Pass; the road is incredibly narrow, the ramps incredibly steep. The road is also fully exposed to the sun. Okay, so are the other passes. But here the air is still. I feel like a fried chicken in the oven. Plus this damn steepness!
Tell me, are the Italian road builders completely crazy? I get so upset that I forget to stuff a gel in my tank. A short time later, I realise that my tank is getting emptier. Too late. So I pull over. I stuff myself with everything I can find in my jersey pockets that has any sugar in it. The Duran awakens a memory in me. The Mortirolo Pass has pulled the plug on me in the same way before. The Duran, whose name sounds so endearing, is just as disgusting, just as exhausting. But it is a wolf in sheep's clothing. I swear to myself that I won't climb this wall again. But the truth is that I quickly discard my thoughts of murder, as the descent turns out to be another highlight.
As I ride downhill, I realise that something is different. Then I realise that many of the bends are slightly banked towards the edge, almost like on a cycling track. Colossal fun! Then it's time for our last climb of the day. Once again Robin, who comes from the south of England, cranks his way to the top. Anyone who is surprised by this fails to realise that British road builders in rural Britain are specialists in low-curvature ramps and steep sections. And yet: I don't want to be left behind, so I suck up to the light-skinned rascal and catch up with him. The bill comes at the end, my friend! I storm into the Rifugio Palafavera and order a couple of beers. Then we do what racing cyclists always do, compare wattage figures, calorie values, everything the Garmins and Strava have to offer. Day 1: Check! Or as our friends from the UK say: The first day is in the books. Completely exhausted, but with an indescribable feeling of happiness, I write this story and eventually fall asleep.
Day 2: A climb that even Pogačar should be scared of
For our second breakfast we treat ourselves to an easy climb, then we head for the Passo Giau
We wake up the next morning with slightly heavy legs. Breakfast at the Palafavera is wonderful, the espresso delicious. But we are not (only) here for the dolce vita, but because we want to conquer, climb and storm the passes here in the Dolomites. For our second breakfast, we treat ourselves to an easy climb, then we head for the Passo Giau - from the nasty side towards Cortina d'Ampezzo.
Dude, after 50 metres the mountain shows you who's the boss. The mountaineering lexicon always says that the mountain decides who to let up and who not. But we road cyclists don't tolerate contradictions, so we simply pedal up. Although the north-east section of the Giau is not as long as the southern brutal ramp with an average gradient of 8.9 per cent, it is much steeper. Even Tadej Pogačar is said to be scared of this thing. Because we gave our battered bodies enough minerals and vitamins yesterday (including wheat beers), we crank up the Giau - even if it hurts. According to the Maratona organiser, the highest pass in the Giro d'Italia, which often has to be conquered, is the "most breathtaking balcony over the Dolomites". The route was undoubtedly breathtaking, which is why we all agree that we now deserve a delicious cake and an espresso.
It takes less than 30 seconds for us to inhale everything. And because the view of Nuvolau and Averau really is so phenomenal, we decide to order another strudel with ice cream, vanilla sauce and whipped cream. Better safe than sorry. With sugar in the tank, we get back on our racing bikes and head towards Cortina d'Ampezzo. There's no mistaking that the 2026 Winter Olympics are being held there. The little town is really sprucing itself up and will soon show its best side. Drilling and hammering is going on everywhere. So let's get going, quickly up the Tre Croci, our next summit to climb.
After the hardcore climb up the Giau, the route is reasonably easy to ride, but we still sweat out our high-calorie drinks in streams. I look like I've just been swimming in the Dead Sea in my new black jersey. I'm probably the world's heaviest "loup de mer" in salt crust, so many sweat marks adorn my jersey. We are famished again, just like the whole three days. They really only consisted of kicking, sleeping and slurping.
So we head straight to the next restaurant, Baita San Zuogo, which our guide recommends. The meat? Delicious! The pasta? A dream! The Buchteln and the tiramisu? Super tasty! A quick espresso, then we have to continue on to Lake Misurina. The last few metres leave me speechless: I have a clear view of the Three Peaks, the world-famous mountain range in the Sesto Dolomites on the border between the Italian provinces of Belluno in the south and South Tyrol in the north.
Every outdoor brand in the world has probably dragged their models up there to have them photographed. We are blown away and stop. All around us, people are eating ice cream and sitting in the sun. We have our helmets on, our jerseys sticking to us like in a wet T-shirt contest. And we are happy. That's why we ride almost 20 kilometres down to Cortina, then another six kilometres up to Pocol, a mini-village on the way to the Falzarego Pass. Finally we're sitting in the sun, sipping an Aperol and eating the hotel's supply of crisps.
Day 3: Out of the cold trousers
What we started smartly yesterday - rolling in easily, then conquering the first mountain - doesn't really work out the next day. We ride up the Falzarego in our cold trousers. Shortly after breakfast, my body not only realises that it needs to burn off a muesli, two pistachio cornettos and two double espressos, but also that it already has 51 years under its belt. A selfie at the top, then right past the Lagazuoi cable car towards the Valparola Pass. My favourite pass.
When I stay in La Villa with my daughter Marie, she takes an e-bike, I take my racing bike and we pedal up the 2168 metre-high Valparola together for an espresso and a hot chocolate. We press people do the same, but only after the descent - at Bio Lüch Ruances. With our tummies full of cheesecake and strudel, we rush up to La Villa, then turn left again towards Corvara. There, at the end of the Supermaratona, we take on the classic Sellaronda: 1800 metres in altitude, 58 kilometres. Or as the touring platform Komoot puts it: "Four passes for one hallelujah".
So first to the Campolongo Pass, then to the Pordoi, the Sella Pass and for the grand finale to the Gardena Pass. As we hurtle down from the Sella Pass, it occurs to me that the long, flat ride - also known as the "cold wall" - towards the Gardena Pass is exactly my thing. As a former ski racer, I know that I can push! So I push like the Danish super sprinter Mads Pedersen and leave everyone else standing. My strategy works. Even longer than I thought. Five hairpin bends before the col, however, my rouleur colleague Edward catches up with me, Klaus Irsara in tow, the boss of Melodia del Bosco. Bloody axe! I give it everything I've got, but just can't make it. A few metres before the summit, my thighs explode. Bam!
A few seconds later, we are all together, we super men from Supermaratona. We hug each other and cheer. If you couldn't tell we were all best agers, you'd think it was a children's birthday party. We are exhausted but happy. That's also because we know: From now on, it's all downhill. First down to Corvara, then to La Villa and back to Klaus' hotel. And as befits a racing bike hotel, the 200 metres from the main road to Passo Melodia are of course a Strava segment. The KOM is held by a road bike guide from La Villa with 19 seconds, followed by Klaus. Average speed: 32 kilometres per hour. But where is Bokšić actually? Our guide's gears ran out of power right at the junction to the hotel. "Bokšić" is not bothered by this. He arrives shortly after us, but rides up the 16 or 17 per cent on the large chainring. "What's the problem?" he asks. The ex-footballer can cycle, others could kick better.
Information about Supermaratona
The "Supermaratona" was created jointly by the organiser of the Maratona dles Dolomites and Hervé Barmasse. It connects 13 famous Dolomite passes to form a circuit covering 285 kilometres and 8400 metres in altitude. Anyone who completes the Supermaratona in one day can be inducted into the "Hall of Fame" by submitting the link of their Strava recording to the organisers for review. Anyone who is recognised as a graduate will also receive a cap with the Supermaratona emblem and consecutive numbering. You can also split the tour into two or three stages - just like the group of reporters; the tour operator holimites.com will help with luggage transport and the organisation of accommodation on request.
