Category: EuroTour 2014

Greetings from the Highest Paved Pass in the Alps

Greetings from the Highest Paved Pass in the Alps

fuzzygalore kenny ed and drea on col de L'iseran france

Can you tell from my super-toothy grin that I was pretty excited to be at the top of the Col de L’Iseran? After seeing pictures of that dang sign on the web for years, it was incredible to be able to stand there soaking in the view with my own eyes.

We *may* have stuck one of our trip stickers on that sign. And a ZLA oval I had in my bag, just because.

Dream it. Work for it. MAKE IT HAPPEN!


View Larger Map

Werewolves and the French Police on the Little St. Bernard Pass

Werewolves and the French Police on the Little St. Bernard Pass

When Kenny and I decided to call it a night on Friday, we were still on the Little St. Bernard pass. As we started our descent from the top of the pass we pulled in to a hotel that our friend Ed mentioned he was going to try to stay at.

The Belvedere Hotel

fuzzygalore hotel belvedere

We were hoping to see Ed’s copper V-Strom parked out front. Instead, we found 2 dozen other bikes. All those bikes were surely a good sign about the place, right?

Though their route initially put them in front of us, somehow we’d gotten ahead of Ed and Drea. When we landed in Milan (the four of us on the same flight) we split up – Kenny and I went to Stresa, Italy to fall asleep next to the lake and Ed and Drea set off for Zermatt, Switzerland to take a peek at the Matterhorn.

Our plan was to do our own thing on Thursday and Friday and then all come together on Saturday morning. The last part of the puzzle would be meeting Pimmie in Susa, Italy. Pim, coming down from the Netherlands, was the last member of our group to rendezvous with for a week of riding.

We Love Motorcycles

The Belvedere Hotel really catered to the motorcyclist. In their lounge they had motorcycle magazines and postcards, maps of good riding in the area. They had covered motorcycle parking and even made tools and cleaning supplies available in the entryway!

Motorcycle culture is quite different in Europe.

fuzzygalore hotel belvedere fuzzygalore moto magazines hotel belvedere

Being right on a corner of the pass, you got to see bikes whizzing by all the time.

One of the most interesting things we saw right from our room was several groups of French Gendarmerie motorcycle police strafing the corner. There must’ve been 10 groups of four FJR pilots whizzing along, each in perfect unison. They looked like fighter planes carving through the turn. It was pretty awesome:

fuzzygalore gendarmerie fjr squad

Calling it a Day

After jettisoning our riding gear and having a shower, Kenny and I went down to the dining room.

We sat there in the warm light sipping beers feeling that “travel high” that you sometimes get when you realize just how fortunate you are to just float in the world. There is a period at the beginning of a trip when you feel like you have all the time in the world and you are free. We were there.

fuzzygalore belvedere hotel france

Torn between the want to stay up and shovel more delicious home-cooked regional dishes into our faces and the still nagging jet lag, we retired early to bed. We were fat, happy and excited to regroup with our friends in the morning.

What. Was. THAT?!

Awoken by an unfamiliar discordant sound, I went from dead asleep to sitting up bolt straight in bed, heart thumping in my chest. What the…?!

Through our open window came the peculiar, discordant tones of… howling. When you’re dwelling in that hazy space between sleep and wakefulness, that is a sound that is quite unsettling. That’s the state where anything that your imagination conjures up is reasonable and it’s usually f’n scary.

There is was again!

In the dark of our room, I turned and looked out the window but saw nothing. Everything beyond the reach of the lone street lamp was obscured by the envelope of blackness. Perhaps it was best that I didn’t see what was obviously a werewolf out there.

I turned and looked at Kenny who was also up now and said “Did you hear that?!”

I firmly believe that one of the less tapped into portions of our brains allows a spouse to actually hear eye rolling and the inner monologue of their partner. I have harnessed this ability.

“Yes,” he said.

Translation: “No, dummy. I’m sitting up in the middle of the night staring out into the blackness, at the very same moment you are, for no reason whatsoever.”

Because my brave protector’s inner monologue had time for sarcasm, I decided it was safe to go back to sleep.

The Belvedere was a great place to stop for the night. I would absolutely stay there again. It’s rooms were on the petite side but the beds were comfortable, the rooms were clean, the food was good and the atmosphere was lovely. And… they have werewolves. But for some reason they don’t mention that on the website.

The Power of Desire on the French Border

The Power of Desire on the French Border

fuzzygalore crossing in to france col du petit st. bernard

When I was a kid, we were… “financially challenged.” Growing up that way can leave a residue that clouds your thinking even if you’ve managed to claw your way out of that circumstance. As the years have passed through hard work, luck, chance – my life has changed dramatically. Even so, I still occasionally find myself nagged by thoughts that some things are only for other people and not for me.

When I first started reading motorcycle magazines and seeing advertisements for tours in Europe through companies like Edelweiss – the idea that I could ever find myself riding those roads was out of the question. That was my truth only because I didn’t have the vision or the belief that I could do anything that I really wanted to. I didn’t yet know that I am a force to be reckoned with when there is something in my sights that I want.

Though we’d been in France before (not on motorcycles) when Kenny and I crossed the French border on the Col du Petit St. Bernard, I couldn’t resist stopping for a photo of the sign.

France. On a motorcycle. Can you imagine? It was one of those unattainable places back in the day. 

Desire is an incredible motivator. I mean true desire, not just namby-pamby, non-committal “wishing.” I believe it makes you work for something in sub-conscious ways. I hope that I am moved by it for the rest of my days.

Snapshots: At and Around the Simplonpass in Switzerland

Snapshots: At and Around the Simplonpass in Switzerland

Kenny and I traveled across the Simplonpass in Switzerland while heading towards the Col du Petit St. Bernard in France. Assorted pics from Simplonpass:

fuzzygalore simplonpass fuzzygalore into switzerland fuzzygalore simplonpass stikcer
fuzzygalore on the simplonpass fuzzygalore swiss army truck fuzzygalore giant roadside moto
fuzzygalore kenny on simplonpass fuzzygalore simplonpass ganterbruke fuzzygalore kenny simplonpass eagle

The bridge is called Ganterbrücke.

I’ll sign off with my favorite photo from the Simplonpass. I think it really personifies Kenny and I – two awkward geeks in love:
fuzzygalore awkward nerdy girl

Stumbling Across Some Deeper Meaning on the Great St. Bernard Pass

Stumbling Across Some Deeper Meaning on the Great St. Bernard Pass

fuzzygalore col du grand st. bernardFollowing our last trip through the Alps, there were several mountain passes that we hadn’t ridden that found their way on to my riding bucket list. You know, for “next time.”

In hindsight, it’s really by the grace of the universe that there was a next time. Chalk it up to luck. Or is it something else?

Kenny and I found ourselves at the summit of the Great St. Bernard some time in the mid afternoon. We parked our bikes and strolled around taking in the sights. I bought a sticker and some postcards and resisted the chocolate.

fuzzygalore col du grand st bernard cross

We walked towards the lake and stood there for a few minutes among the stillness of our surroundings. The scale of mountains is so tremendous. I find it difficult not to become introspective about my place in the world when surrounded with such enduring majesty. These mountains – hard, unforgiving, beautiful in their strength. And there I am – a fragile, weak, pink thing.

fuzzygalore lake at grand st bernard

I stood watching a woman walking two St. Bernards on the mountain to my right. It was then that I had a moment. Not quite an epiphany, but I came to some understanding of my existence in the split second. You can move through your life and recite things by habit. You know these things to be truths on a surface level. But then there are moments of certainty when you come to know something deeply. You feel it and know it not by rote but through some acute awareness.

fuzzygalore col du grand saint bernard

I came to the simple understanding that… this is it.

This life is all there is, as far as I know. And so it’s up to me to make my life be what I want. I can sit around wishing and dreaming and filing things away to see “someday” but no one is going to bring them to my doorstep. The fear that keeps me stationary eats away my happiness.

Four years ago, I tapped away on some keys and wrote out the words “See the Great St. Bernard Pass.” As trivial as that goal might seem, as I stood watching those dogs walking along breathing in the smells of the Earth, I came to know I’d made it there of my accord. If I can do this thing – Why not anything else I decide I want? My only limitation is my will.

That’s a lot to see in a pair of dogs.

%d bloggers like this: