Nov 22, 2025
Ticino, the Italian-speaking and southernmost region of Switzerland, has been part of my cycling life for as long as I’ve been pinning on a race number. My relationship with this place goes all the way back to the 1990s, when I was an amateur racer chasing early-season form on the other side of the Alps. Back then, while winter still wrapped itself around the northern slopes, Ticino was already drenched in sunshine. GP Lugano, Gran Premio di Chiasso and Giro del Lago Maggiore were synonymous with light, warmth… and painful legs from trying to follow the strong local riders who had been training all winter in mild weather.
A few sensations still take me straight back to those days: the smell of proper espresso drifting out of a tiny bar in a quiet village; the sound of Italian spoken with that unmistakable Ticinese accent; the soft morning light on the palm trees. These things are part of Ticino’s identity as much as its mountains and lakes. Over the years, I kept coming back — sometimes to race, often just to ride. But it wasn’t until much later that I truly discovered the region’s wilder side.
That moment arrived during Dead Ends e Dolci: a low-key, welcoming, slightly eccentric event that has achieved near-mythical status in the global bikepacking community for its adventurous spirit and worship of – yes – dead ends. I rode the first two editions, and those experiences reshaped my understanding of Ticino. The event isn’t about speed or competition. Well, technically I did finish dead last one year… but that’s a story for another article.
What Dead Ends e Dolci does best is send you exploring: deep into remote corners, forgotten roads and valleys that feel like the end of the world. Which might not be the end of the world – if you enjoy hiking with your bike to see what’s on the other side.
Reaching checkpoint Cabioi. Dead end? Maybe not.
One memory in particular stayed with me: grinding up the final climb to Capanna Gesero on the last day. I was tired, hungry and definitely among the last riders still out there. After a long paved climb, the road dissolved into a path, and soon I was pushing my bike. Arriving at the hut just before sunset, greeted by a steaming bowl of soup from the hut keeper, created a feeling that’s hard to describe: relief, pride, and awe rolled into one. Those are the moments that stick.
Why did I wait so long?
Dead Ends e Dolci opened dozens of doors for me, literally. I kept discovering new roads, new valleys, new climbs I had somehow never ridden in all my years coming to Ticino. Each time I asked myself: why did I wait so long to explore this hidden face of Ticino?
Eventually, that curiosity grew into something more: the desire to stitch those fragments together. To build a route of my own. Not a race, not a challenge — a journey. One that connected the wildest, most meaningful pieces of that other Ticino into a single line that I could share with the world.
Ticino’s hidden face
So when komoot and Ticino Turismo gave me carte blanche to design a multi-day gravel tour in the northern part of the region and share the experience, I knew exactly what I wanted to do. I reached out to Stefano Bergamaschi, a true local expert and one of the masterminds behind Dead Ends e Dolci. Stefano knows every track, abandoned mule path, hidden pass and cluster of stone houses in these mountains: listening to him is like downloading local knowledge directly into your legs. And if you’re looking for a guide, Stefano and his company Bikeport are there for you.
With his invaluable help, I started sketching ideas. A link here, a detour there. A high pass I had never heard of (Passo dell’Uomo? Where was that hiding?). A tiny trail connecting two valleys in a way that felt both secret and obvious. And then one day, looking at the final draft on the map, I saw it: an uninterrupted line from Airolo to Bellinzona. Simple, elegant, weaving together places I knew and places I had only dreamed of. That’s when I thought: this is going to be something special.
On the way to Passo dell’Uomo
From chaos to peace
But routes only come alive when you ride them. So I called my friend Kaddy, and we set off over three days to test the tour. And well… it didn’t start smoothly. Kaddy almost didn’t make it to Airolo: a late train in Zürich (a rarity), a missed connection resulting in another missed last train, a rescue combination of train + bus… and finally, an arrival after 1 a.m. Luckily, the wonderful people at Hotel Forni had kept a plate of food for her.
A few short hours later, she had traded her business attire for her bikepacking kit, and we rolled out of Airolo. From there, the adventure unfolded exactly as I had hoped, and often much better. We started with the legendary Tremola climb, weaving through its iconic cobbles. Familiar territory for me; I must have hundreds of photos of this climb in my archives. And yet, somehow, I still found angles I’d never tried before.
The legendary Tremola road and its cobbled switchbacks
At the top, we enjoyed the wonderful chaos of cars, motorbikes and wandering tourists. We smelled the grilled sausages, took a few half-decent photos, and then pointed our wheels toward Passo Scimfuss (ever heard of that one?). In an instant, we left civilisation behind. High terrain, remote trails – wild, yet peaceful. For three days, we hopped from valley to valley, took hundreds (thousands?) of photos and had our bones shaken on rocky descents. With the occasional hike-a-bike to make sure we slowed down enough to enjoy the moment.
While the riding was fantastic, some of the best moments often came off the bike. One of my favourites happened at Capanna Adula. During Dead Ends e Dolci, I had only passed through it as a checkpoint, but I had always thought: one day, I want to come back properly. I want to sleep here, slow down, feel the atmosphere at sunset and sunrise. And that’s exactly what we did.
Sunset at Capanna Adula
Hut life
We arrived in the late afternoon, enjoyed a beer on the terrace as the sun dipped toward the horizon, then settled into our dorm room. That evening, Kaddy and I shared dinner with a group of Swiss German mountaineers. Nothing extraordinary happened, and that was precisely what made it memorable. The conversation flowed in a mix of French, German and English. We laughed, the pizzoccheri were delicious, and the atmosphere had that rare warmth that mountain huts create: a temporary community formed by chance. As the light faded and the mountains disappeared into the night, I thought: this is the moment. This is why we do this.
The most intense section of the route was the climb to Capanna Gesero: almost 1,700 metres of gain, most of it deep in the woods. A long, relentless effort that makes you question your decisions at regular intervals. But when we finally exited the tunnel at Alpe di Cadinello and the whole landscape opened before us, all doubts vanished. Views like that hit harder after a two-hour climb. And yes, the final descent in the deepening darkness into Bellinzona, in the beam of our headlights, was absolutely worth it. I may have let out a few enthusiastic “woohoos” while trying to follow Kaddy without burning my brakes.
Celebrating with a non-alcoholic beer at Capanna Gesero
There are so many other memorable moments I could share from that trip, but I’ll stop here. Bottom line is, those three days with Kaddy gave me exactly what I needed: clarity, peace, and a momentary escape from the noise of everyday life. The simplicity of the routine is grounding: ride, eat, laugh, sleep, repeat. It’s not about speed or distance – it’s about presence.
The route
If you want to know more about our route, you’ll find a detailed description, photos, maps, GPX files and tips about equipment, logistics and the best season here.
And if you ever decide to ride it, I hope you’ll find the same sense of peace, clarity and simplicity that we experienced up there, high above Ticino – between the Alps and the southern light.
Alain
Many thanks to Ticino Turismo and komoot for supporting this very special trip.
Follow me on Instagram and head over to the blog to read more cycling stories. Looking for inspiration on where to ride? Check out our favorite road and gravel loops.
And thank you Kaddy for joining me in Ticino!
