Cyclist
The Ötztal Glacier Road: The highest paved road in the Alps
You know a climb is going to be spectacular when it features in a James Bond movie. It was the case with Switzerland’s Furka Pass, which saw Sean Connery screeching round hairpins in his Aston Martin DB5 in 1964’s Goldfinger.
And it’s the case with this climb, which is the setting for a dramatic chase sequence in 2015’s Spectre, with Daniel Craig destroying an aeroplane in an attempt to rescue his love interest from Spectre’s henchmen as they bundle her into a Land Rover and speed off down the Ötztal Glacier Road.
And… action!
The town of Sölden sits in the Tyrol region of Austria, near the border with Italy. It is surrounded by Alpine peaks, the largest of which is the Wildspitze at 3,768m, the second highest mountain in Austria. Indeed, Sölden has more than its fair share of ‘seconds’, as the Ötztal Glacier Road that begins in the town lays claim to being the second-highest paved road in Europe, beaten only by the Veleta road in Spain’s Sierra Nevada.
Before you’ve even turned a pedal, you’re at an elevation of 1,430m, higher than any point in the UK. From there the road goes up – steeply – for the best part of 14km, taking you deep into the mountains and introducing you to the Rettenbach and Tiefenbach glaciers.
Befitting of a Bond movie, the climb starts with a bang, with four of the hardest kilometres coming right at the beginning.
Turning sharply out of Sölden, the road rises into forested tranquillity and away from the milky rush of the aptly named Ötztaler Ache river. That linguistic pun won’t raise much of a smile as you tough-out this inhospitable wake up call, tilting up to 12% gradient and sticking there for the next 4km.
The air is fragrant with pine trees, through which gondolas haul downhill mountain bikers to higher altitudes, casting long spherical shadows over the asphalt.
Being surrounded by trees means there is scant visual reward for this relentless toil until, after 5km, you pass through a short tunnel under a ski piste and all your goats come home to graze at once.
The gradient eases off to less than 7%, the trees thin out and the road curves gently to the left, peeling back a 270° panorama that takes in the valley and the mountains you have left behind, including the hulking figure of the 3,361m Wilde Leck. In mid-summer the Sulztalferner glacier nestling among the peaks seems to be fighting a losing battle with the sun.
As the road straightens up there’s no time to get too misty eyed. A kilometre ahead is the toll gate that extracts cash from motorists in return for access to the road’s upper reaches (cyclists go free) and which coincides roughly with your emergence above 2,000m. This is the altitude at which things start to get tougher.
Building tension
Being a dead end – or sackgasse – means that any race that comes here must commit to a summit finish. Built in 1972, the highest paved road in the Alps tempted the Tour of Germany here in 2005, where the stage was won by America’s Levi Leipheimer.
Notably, Germany’s Jan Ullrich came third that day, although his name now has a line through it on the results board. The race returned two years later, in 2007, when the spoils went to Spain’s David López.
The savagery of Ötztal’s digits was perhaps most demonstrable at the Tour de Suisse in 2016. Admittedly the climb arrived at the end of a 224km stage with more than 5,000m of climbing, but American Tejay van Garderen took the stage win at what we’d now consider a pretty pedestrian average speed – for pros – of just 34kmh.
Jan Ullrich, when pressed for his opinion of the Ötztal Glacier Road, condemned the climb as ‘cruelty to animals’.
Aside from mild nerves around the ‘Achtung! Wolfsgebiet!’ signs – Danger! Wolf territory! – you’ll be mainly concerned about the cruelty to your thighs. Your mind, however, will be an oasis of calm.
Unlike many of the climbs in this area, the Ötztal Glacier Road is remarkably quiet. The tollbooth thins out whatever traffic there is, and all that is left, other than a smattering of hikers and the tinkling of cow bells, is the gaping expanse of valley.
Still 800m distant, the Rettenbach Glacier, which is sadly diminished from what it once was, sits loftily, like a rusty star atop a grey-crested Christmas tree. Uncovered by snow, the glacier appears to melt into the scree that surrounds its cap.
It’s wise to enjoy these few kilometres along the riverbank because, despite the slope barely dropping below 9%, it’s about to get yet more vicious. A set of four switchbacks rears up above 2,500m, but it’s your lungs rather than your bike computer that will tell you that.
Flanked by an imposing stone wall on the left, the road ahead disappears into thin air, with just a small wooden barrier separating you from the ragged fist of summits to the northeast.
The vista flicks between the majesty of these pitted peaks and the gritty grandeur of the glacier’s empty ski station. Once beyond the hairpins, it’s tempting to think that the worst is over, but now is not the time to relax. There’s still climbing to do.
Closing credits
Beyond that final switchback, the colour palette drains away for good and the road points towards an unruly grey wall of mountain detritus. After 11km, you pass beneath an artful blue arch of sculpted metal that welcomes you to the Rettenbach Glacier ski area.
Although gradients are levelling out around the low double-digit mark, the altitude is closing in on 3,000m and every kind of rider will be hurting.
At this point you can follow the road round to the right, past the chapel to the car park at the road’s end another kilometre further on, but it would be a crime not to swing left to take in the Tiefenbach Glacier via its imposing tunnel.
The road descends briefly before slinging into another incline. A chalky lake and a bellowing waterfall flank the right, while to the left are some of the best views of the entire ride looking back over the switchbacks up the weathered slope you’ve just climbed.
Named after the late ski racer, the Rosi-Mittermaier Tunnel is said to be the highest road tunnel in the Alps, and shoots arrow straight for 1.7km at a modest 7% towards Tiefenbach. In the tunnel, sweat turns to icy droplets and the finish line becomes a dot of light in the distance.
Emerging into the brightness, there is now 2,820m of land between you and sea level, and the only way to get any higher is by ski lift. It’s time for this adventure to reach its final action sequence – a 14km high-speed chase all the way back to Sölden.
• This article originally appeared in issue 146 of Cyclist magazine. Click here to subscribe
The post The Ötztal Glacier Road: The highest paved road in the Alps appeared first on Cyclist.