Description:

As wild as in Abruzzo, Italy is nowhere else: impressive fortresses, rugged cliffs, narrow trails and the vast plateau of Campo Imperatore – the imperial box.


The sight comes unexpectedly and almost knocks me off the saddle. Own fault, because my companion Zep, who had been here more often, had promised a “unique experience”. What I could hardly imagine. But now I get myself out of sheer astonishment a little more, because I roll forward to a mountain panorama as I’ve never seen it. Behind the rapid change curves of the last pass will open up almost the final frontier. Before us lies the Campo Imperatore, a high plateau at 1,600 meters. All around stand numerous two-to three-thousand, which together form the famous Gran Sasso massif. As far as the eye can see – and it goes very, very far – are not human, not a car to see no other motorcycle, the gray-brown ribbon of asphalt lost alone in the distance. Countless sheep abound on the endless meadows, guarded by shepherds dogs, which they are to protect wolves. A herd of cows crossing the road on their way to drinking at a high altitude pasture The robust sound of our two-cylinder KTM competes with the whistling of the wind that always blows stronger and colder. With the sun the temperature drops almost by the minute, in a twinkling, we have arrived at tight five degrees. So be it. The first time on the Campo Imperatore – this is a magical moment.

Miles of the ribbon of asphalt leads us across the plateau, sometimes gently swinging, sometimes chnurgerade. Still not a soul in sight. At the end of a spur road at the Monte Cristo we stop to take us despite the cold a lot of time for the majestic sunset over the peaks. No more wind it all around now complete peace prevails, only the engines crackle loudly. Can Italy be so wild, lonely, and originally? A series of wide switchbacks brings us precisely calibrated to over 2100 meters to the Hotel Campo Imperatore. No question, we’re in Italy, because the house has four stars, and there are usually not in the wild. The heater runs at full speed, to the fascinating, but chilly ride very welcome by the starry night. Like the four-course meal in the elegant single-covered dining room in which to lose than us, only four hikers.

How comes that? Such a unique track, surrounded by many, mostly nameless passports would be swamped by tourists in the Alps literally, especially in July. Hotel manager Maria Teresa explains to us. “We Abruzzo,” she says a little wistfully, “are more reserved. That’s why we are doing ourselves to the promotion of our own pretty hard.” Why only on weekends and in the traditional Italian holiday month of August, a little life in the Campo Imperatore herrscht.Uns can however only be right, because we have the next day when we circle the spaciously Plateau, the area almost to ourselves alone. The panorama is constantly changing: first the high plateau in the bright sunshine in loses nothing of its ancient charm, then over a hump track through dense forest to the valley, according to Castelli. On and on, the road winds down until we land in Montorio on just 260 meters height. Burning hot it is here, and although the distance from here, winding through a picturesque, beautiful rolling landscape, we look back we prefer the high road.

It brings us in close turns steeply uphill to the Prati di Tivo. Cool 1400 meters, so can even live in Italy in July. From here, a cable car up to the Gran Sasso massif. Not much going on, and similar work in the Alps, which aim at ski hotels, snack and souvenir shops without the gracious concealing snow quite out of place. We give thanks to the retreat, because it draws us back to the already high plateau. Narrow paths invite pastors there to one side trips on gravel, with my Adventure easy and enjoyable exercise. Genuine off-road driving is banned in the park, but he who holds the paths and on animals and plants regardless takes to fear from the parking police usually nothing. In the distance we see in the warm evening light the massive red building of the hotel and the gleaming dome of the observatory next to it. The hotel is of historical importance, for here was Mussolini imprisoned after being deposed in 1944, before he was freed a German command in an adventurous action. His room, you can visit and even stay there. I will not let Maria Teresa give the key, but the sense of history would have us not wander into the rooms of the former fascist Duce so right.

On Saturday I start, actually notorious lie-abed, at sunrise on a solo round of Campo Imperatore, so I grabbed the area. When I return to the hotel about eight, actually begins a mild form of tourism. Stressed urbanites flock from nearby Rome in the refreshing coolness of the mountains. At the southern end of the plateau, towards Fonte Vetica, there are several large wooden barracks. There fresh meat is sold, everybody can cook on the established gas grills themselves. On weekends, has here a popular biker meeting place established.

Hardly reached the plateau, begins a cam dance. Nimble in turns, we fly over the Capo la Serra-pass and Castel del Monte up to the fortress Rocca Calascio. The way to the mighty fortress, scene of films like “The Name of the Rose” with Sean Connery and “The American” with George Clooney is through a steep path with high levels. For motorcyclists, it is not blocked because of many crashes in the past, but we get a vivid reminder of the locals on their way.

After a rather traumatic trip to L’Aquila is again a highlight of the trip: the Passo delle Capannelle Although we know already from the day of arrival, but this cast in asphalt temptation we simply can not go often enough. In the harmonious and flowing, fast corners with grippy tarmac, the Adventure feels just like a fiddle on gravel. Almost too soon we are on the pass. Before the Lake Campotosto and thus the end of the trip coming, I cast a last glance at the Imperial area, which took me by storm. A small chapel, a dirt road. Rotating treeless slopes with rocks that look as though a giant, they scattered when playing. In the south, to greet the rugged peaks of the Gran Sasso. A barren land, but with a primitive magic that one will not let go.