ivermectina manipulada will ivermectin kill scabies para que sirve el medicamento kilox gotas levne ivera stromectol poux ivermectin harganya berapa ivermectina al 0.6 gotas onde achar ivermectina no rio de janeiro

Passo di Gavia

I don’t know what I did in a past life to deserve this punishment, but I would happily do it again!

The Trenino Rosso, Europe’s highest non-cogwheel train, delivers me near the top of the Passo del Bernna from the station in Tirano. Wheels squeel and cars groan as it navigates corners close to its maximum turning radius. A rise too steep, the track looks back over itself in a curly queue hisuite download in het nederlands. Passengers in the front exchange photos.

Across the vertical rock, above the precipice, through inky tunnels. Past Lago di Poschiavo, a circular blueish-green snow fed viaduct adjacent to Brusio. A perfect view, a thousand feet below. Glacier run off water falls cascade into the forests. Late summer melt. The air is becoming crisper and thinner video download van twitter. The light more muted.

We arrive at Ospizia Bernina Station, 1 3/4hrs later. 2265m above sea level. A sort road up to the peak of the pass. Passo del Bernina (2328m) and a quick cheese and salami sandwich packed last night. The ride begins.

View Larger Map

Three climbs are on the pre lunch menu herunterladen. Forcola di Livigno (2315m), Passo d’ Eira (2208m), and Passo di Foscagno (2291m).

I am in Switzerland but soon over the border, working my way to the Forcola di Livigno. It is perpetual twilight. The peaks are too close to provide more than a small window of opportunity for the sun to warm the road. The cloud ceiling is low and thick verdamp lang her download for free. Only a flat dim light is able to push its way through the bank, exhausted and faint from its battle. The land is muted.

The air is dry and frigid. My breath is a continuous column of vapor. As I slow over the top, tendrils of slowly rising mist drift from my damp clothes and skin. Scattered on the breeze bookwright herunterladen.

A descent that makes me cry out for knee warmers and shoe covers. My gloved hands are cold but under control; knees and toes are numb.

Tow more, slightly warmer, a little less windy, but the same depressed light. I arrive in Bormio on track. Plenty of time for a quick grocery store lunch. Two large spheres of buffalo milk mozzarella, a banana, and a coke.

Time to tackle Gavia feuerwehr spiele kostenlos herunterladen. Garmina does everything in her power to route me another way to Tirano. She too must know what terrors this path has in store and is trying to save me from myself. I turn off navigation and head south east.

The long empty climb to the top. Like Stelvio, motorcycles appear in staggered bursts; cars are few torrentsen nederland. Bikes do not exist. It is barren and biting. A few scattered cattle scrounge for what little plant life eeks out a living among the carpet of boulders. The temperature is falling along with a steady drizzle. The road is getting narrower and less well maintained. I sidestep potholes as the wind pushes against me, an alliance with gravity, against my legs facebook app wil niet downloaden. A bend in the road, Rifugio Bonetta appears as a beacon in the wasteland. A lighthouse. Not warning of danger, but promising shelter and warmth. An escape and a coffee. It is seven degrees Centigrade. The flags are straining against the poll; I wonder what the wind chill might be.

To cappuchinos and a ProBar later, I reluctantly leave my chair, next to the gas fired heater youtube kanal downloaden. The drizzle has turned to sleet, stinging when it finds exposed skin. The Gavia remains the Gavia, unforgiving. My legs, which once were pistons, are recast as suspension. Vibrating, attempting to absorb the toll of the first 10k of the 37k (24 mile) serpentine plummet. The road is very narrow, hardly 2 meters in width, and the surface is full of cracks, washboard, and pot holes untertitel kostenlos herunterladen. My hands are ehausted by the time the newly paved portion finally appears. The game of race to brake begins. Doing what I can to maintain momentum through the hairpins and around oncoming cars. The sun appears in the valley, a reward for my hard work. I am warm and my legs surprisingly fresh; in the drops, a heavy tempo on to Edolo. Follow the river.

I pick up the tail of the Mortirolo route from two days ago. Edolo, up through Aprica, over the Passo di Aprica, and down to Tirano. Full circle.



Comments are closed.