Australian Adventure: Log 3

Camping on the beach in my converted Toyota Landcruiser, I was up at 3 AM to hopefully find that the emergency services crews had cleared the three separate flooded sections of the highway. To my excitement, I breezed through with no issues; however, one of the crews told me that the highway was still flooded several hundred kilometers up, and that I may want to try an inland route if I had any hope of making Brisbane. However, they said it with a chuckle, making me think my chances were slim at best. Stopping off at another Information outlet, I picked up a local map and planed my route. From Kyogle I would make my way north to the Lindesay Mountain pass in hopes that it was high enough ground to stay uncovered on my way to Beaudesert. However, as I left the town, the rain was falling harder than I’ve ever seen rain fall and more of the landscape was under water than not.

It didn’t take long to find a familiar sight; traffic signes, caution signs and a roadway that sank into the murky depths of the flooded low lands. However, this time there were no Emergency Services Crew standing guard, and measuring the roadside indicators, I knew that this body of water was only about a foot deep, even if it was travelling across the road with some velocity. With the speed of the water, I nosed in much more cautiously this time, not worried about depth, but of the possibility that the road surface was washed away underneath. After a good 15-minutes and several hundred meters of water crossed, I was on the far shore and shooting north once again.

 This was a situation that would show itself two more times as I crossed the water logged low-lands, however, my wary disposition turned positive as I left the farmlands and began to lift up into the lushest green tropical rain forest I’d ever seen. Massive tall standing eucalyptus and Gum trees where surrounded by shorter fern trees with a forest floor packed full of yet even more ferns. The gentile winding country road was already quite pleasant working its way through the hills before the forest, however, once in the forest, the nature of the road changed quite radically.

With the rain pouring down, the Lindesay road began to jerk and kick its way through the thick undergrowth. Long open bends quickly turned to sharp narrow bursts that wound up into the mountains, the forest spilling out over the road with the weight of the water pouring down. However, that cruel bitch, Mother Nature, wasn’t done with me yet. About 20-kilometres up the road, a large pile of red mud had obscured the roadway in front of me. This time, 4-Low was locked in and the increased ride height saw me not only safely over the 100-meters of dirt in front of me, but another nasty washout shortly down the road.

As I began to descend down the East side, the rain began to become more and more violent, and having been through this situation for the last few days, I knew that I was now in a race with the water to get down to the lowest point. Before I knew it, the tropical rain forest was being replaced with open meadows as the road continued to wind just a viciously down through the undulating and hilly topography, however, still lined with several layers of trees to keep the corners blind. What wasn’t blind anymore were the rather serious drop-offs that now lined the left side of the road. With no barriers to save me if I locked up a wheel, my slow speeds in the 4x4 allowed me to momentarily look away from the road, and straight down a 200-metre drop. All of a sudden, this road, race with Mother Nature and situation just got a lot more serious.

Finally I broke out of the trees and into the meadows, although I was still racing the water down the mountain. Great rivers of water were now flowing across the roadway and undermining the side edges. I soon came to a bridge signed “Tamrookum Creek bridge #7.” Having crossed over several bridges before, I was hoping that these numbers would be going up, however I was not very surprised to find “Tamrookum Creek bridge #6” only a short distance down the road. The race was on for “Tamrookum Creek bridge #1” as that will likely be the lowest in the rapidly flattening out terrain, and the most likely to be covered by flood waters. The suspense built as my fears were coming true, each bridge was getting a little lower to the ground, the water getting a little higher as the countdown continued.

Finally I rounded a sharp corner, spraying water to both sides of the road, to find that “Tamrookum Creek bridge #1” was still over the water, at least just as I rocketed over top, crossing the finishing line. I had felt like I had just won a long distance marathon with mother nature, and I really couldn’t ask for a better battle ground for the fight to take place. Despite not having a machine that would give me the greatest driving pleasure on such a road, I never would have found it if it wasn’t for the fording and off-road abilities of my Britz 4WD camper. Thank goodness I did have it, as this was one of the most epic roads I’ve driven yet.

The pressure was off, and I could now meander my way to Brisbane, only a short, and finally dry, 150-kilometres. I arrived at my destination, the home of Marks nephew… kinda… inlaw, who has graciously put up the team. Both Mark and mechanic Craig, my fellow ground crew member are waiting, and they even have the vehicle that we will be traveling in around Australia, a beat up old Nissan Patrol. After three days on the road, I finally get a well-earned shower, and can finally relax as we wait for Glen, the fourth team member who wasn’t so lucky getting through the washed out mess I had just endured.

Great Drives: Kootenay Loop

About The Route

Best time to Go: Weekdays from April to October

Total Distance:  110 km

Route: Starting point is the village of Lumby along Highway 6, 50°15'2.48"N 118°58'4.29"W, where highway 6 winds drivers east through over the rocky Monashee Mountain range that separates the Okanagan valley and the Arrow Lakes, to finishing at the ferry crossing, 49°52'27.36"N 118° 5'50.71"W.

Places To Stop: Two magnificent glaciers at either end of the route, other than this, just enjoy the epic journey between the two.

Road Type: Rough tarmac road.

Warnings: Rough road that doesn’t really have its own character, corners can easily be misjudged with nasty consequences. Can snow any time of year.

Review:

During this series of great driving roads, I’ve seen my fair share of exotic sights, strange events and odd detours, however, only in Canada would you be turned around because of a fresh dumping of snow… in May! The road that was supposed to be featured in this issue was to be the Crowsnest Highway #3 between Rock Creek and Creston B.C., as part of the Kootenay Loop. However, a thick blanket of wet snow on highway 33, just south of Kelowna, stopped me in my tracks on the transit to Rock Creek. The winding route through the west Kootenay Rockies would require a nimble and quick little car to negotiate, and there is non more fun than the MINI Cooper S.

Problem was, MINI had already swapped over the cars snow tires, for the much more fun, ultra high performance summers that come on the from new. Being May, a prudent and responsible act. But mother nature didn’t see things as such, and try as I might, the little Cooper S just couldn’t get over the summit of Highway 33, with a shimmering wet track of compact snow making any traction with summer rubber nigh on impossible.

And so, I turned the little Cooper S around and headed back to Kelwona. Along the way, I could see that the sun was doing it’s upmost to peek through the clouds, and that if I took a reverse route through Vernon, then on to Nakusp via Highway 6, the snow maybe melted at the higher elevations by the time I got there.

A spirited jog up highway 6 to Lumby B.C. and the skies were ominous; the scenic rolling farm lands had a healthy dusting of white, while the clouds were low with bit of solid fog falling from the sky. Despite the continuing threat, the layer of salt on the road was holding strong, and I made a push for the ferry that crosses Lower Arrow Lake on the other side of the range.

While the biker fraternity has spoken highly of the roads in the Kootenay region of the loop, little did I know that the northern section was equally impressive. It wasn’t long after Lumby that the MINI was thrust up into a winding mountain pass. The rolling farmland was swallowed up by the rocky, rugged and pine covered mountains of the Monashee Mountain range. At first the road meanders gently up into the range, with fast easy curves and great scenic sights of several peaks above and a small river below. However as the altitude rises, the road becomes much more aggressive with corners becoming much more abrupt and the road surface begins to degrade due to the sheer amounts of rock falls and avalanches. Not to mention each corner was blinded by deep snow, trees or a rocky ledge; extreme concentration is needed as the character of the road changes abruptly.

Near the summit the road cuts through a 5-metre deep trench of snow, and the little MINI is skipping from one tight chicane to another, in a seemingly never-ending series of slaloms. Slaloms with consequences, as walls of snow would sporadically open up with a deep rocky ditch on one side, and an open riverbed on the other. The short wheelbase and nimbleness of the MINI was ideal for the character of the road, however, like last issue, extremely rough tarmac meant the thin profile tires and firm suspension proved a little more bruising than I would have liked. Something with a little more suspension travel, such as a Subaru WRX or Mitsubishi Evo would prove to be the ideal weapons for this particular battle.

Luckily, the salt had done its job as I cresting the summit; the road was void of the white death, and the trip down the east side of the range was proving even more delectable. The blind corners obscured by snow and trees on the west side climb was replaced with open curves through a rocky landscape. With good vision, the corners could be taken at speed, putting huge lateral and forward g-forces on the body as I left my braking as late as possible and pitched the Cooper S into a fantastic series of downhill bends. Likewise, the view over the surrounding mountains was nearly as spectacular as the drive itself, but not so good as to make me want to stop for a rest, I was having way too much fun, and the road was all but vacant of other motorists.

However, like the way up, the way down began to calm down as the altitude began to subside, along with the adrenaline pumping through my veins. Soon the road calmed back into rolling farm lands, before coming to its ultimate conclusion at the banks of Lower Arrow Lake, and the cable ferry used to cross to the east side.

Crossing over the Monashee Mountain range proved to be a pleasant surprise in a day that had started off on the wrong foot, however, to my dismay, what layed ahead would prove to be even more enticing.

Great Drives: Possum's Last Run

About The Route

Best time to Go: Weekdays from February to December

Places To Stop: Great scenic viewpoints found at 2.8 km, 9.3 km, and 10.9 km. At 10.9 km is the passes peak with a plaque documenting the history of the road and area, followed by the village of Cardrona at 25.1 km as well as the Possum Bourne Memorial located 7.5 km from Crown Range road.

Total Distance:  39 km  

Altitude: 1121 m

Route: Starting point is the village of Arrow Junction, 44°58'55 S - 168°51'17 E, where highway 6 junctions with Crown Range Rd. Crown Range Rd. winds drivers north-east, over lush green mountain tundra, finishing at the ski resort of Snow Park, 44°52'45 S - 169° 4'9 E.

Road Type: Rough tarmac road

Warnings: Highway will get snowfall in New Zealand’s winter months of July and August Watch for suicidal Possums, biting birds and epic rainfall.

Review

To say that New Zealand has a car culture would easily be an understatement. Along with the Ford and Holden faithful who proudly adorn team jackets every time they take to the road in their Falcons and Monaro’s, one can predictable catch sight of highly modified Mitsubishi’s and Subaru’s at just about every traffic signal. The land of the Kiwi bird is also home to such racing legends as F1 Champion, Bruce McLaren, motorcycle land-speed record holder, Burt Munro, and WRC driver Possum Bourne.

Now you may be thinking, who would name their kid Possum? Well Mr. and Mrs. Bourne had no hand in the name their son would become well known for throughout the world. Like most teenage boys in New Zealand, young Bourne dreamt of becoming a racing driver. At the age of fourteen, he stole his mom’s car late one night, and went out street racing with friends. Streaking along one of New Zealand gloriously twisty roads, a possum had waddled out into his racing line. Now in New Zealand, running over possums is a national past time, a sport if you will, however the young Mr. Bourne swerved last minute to miss the doomed rodent, careening off the road and promptly turning mommies car into a ball. Ever since, New Zealand’s most famous rally driver has gone by one name – Possum.

Possum would go on to win several Kiwi, Aussie and Asia-Pacific Rally championships, driving along side greats like the late Colin McRae, Carlos Sainz and Kenneth Ericsson on Subaru’s World Rally Team. While competing at the “Race to the Sky” hillclimb in 2003, Possums life was snatched away when driving a recce run of the course. Another competitor was coming down and the two collided on a blind corner.

While touring in New Zealand last year, I had decided to make a pilgrimage to the memorial of the Possum, situated on the corner where he died. While just about every road in New Zealand is worthy of a Great Road write-up, the road leading from Queenstown to the memorial was particularly special, combining New Zealand’s highest mountain pass with majestic scenery and a glorious charge up the hill climb that was used for the historic race.

Now usually for these great drives I have the privilege of driving something sporty and exotic such as a Porsche Boxster, BMW Z4, or Mitsubishi Evo. However, on this instance I would be driving something a little different. The best way to tour through New Zealand is at the wheel of a campervan. However, I didn’t want some traffic slowing mobile hotel room on wheels. Instead after much research I went with the BaseJumper 2 from Wilderness Motorhomes. Not only did the BaseJumper 2 provide us with a queen size bed, full kitchen and bathroom, it did it all in a compact Fiat Ducato van with a very competent 3.0L diesel engine. The BaseJumper proved the best of both worlds offering luxurious accommodations and performance capabilities that held up no car.

From Queenstown, we head east on highway 6 towards the village of Arrow Junction where our journey begins. Just a kilometer out of Arrow Junction is the turnoff to Crown Range road, and it did not take long to find the good stuff as a magnificent hairpin complex challenges drivers right off the bat. These were not tight and narrow Alp type hairpins, but an open series of bends and hairpins that can be tackled in without downshifting to first. Once on top of the initial ridge, the road begins to traverse up the mountainside towards an early summit, providing a wonderfully winding road through challenging corners with an excellent view a deep vineyard covered valley that is the heart of the Central Otago wine region.

Up the lush grass covered mountain tundra we pulled off at the peak, for a look around, admiring the incredible views of the valley below and rocky peaks above as well as a quick read of a plaque, describing the history of the regions agricultural past and transportation challenges due to the mountainous terrain. Today however the main industry is tourism, as our next destination, the village of Cardrona is home to one of New Zealand’s most popular alpine resorts.

Off the peak, we plummeted down into a deep chasm that widened out into the Cardrona Valley, an impressive sight with high mountain ranges seem to lean overtop of a lush green valley without a tree to be seen. As we came through during the off-season, the small village of Cardrona was all but a ghost town, with only a small café open to offer a quick Flat White coffee to refresh the mind before challenging the race to the clouds.

However, there are two ski resorts in area, both with roads that exit Crown Range road just after Cardrona, one going up the east range, the other up the west. Trouble was, I wasn’t sure which mountain was home to the memorial, as there is little in the way of signage. So, on a hunch, I went left up the west range, and charged up what was a truly magnificent gravel road. The road was so great, with challenging corners and massive drop offs, there was not doubt this was the right way. Sliding my way higher and higher, up past the cloud level and into the ski resort itself, there was still not sight of the memorial when I was set straight by a resort employee telling me, “Nah mate, Possum’s ova on the otha side of the valley.”

All the better, another run down would be just as fun, and from the excellent view across the valley, the proper road up the east range looked just as salivating. The trip down opened my eyes to the steepness of the road. The distinct smell of burning brakes filled the air as I lean the big camper van into hairpins of doom, brake drifting to stay on the road. Across the highway we diverted, heading up towards Snow Park Ski resort, the new gravel road while looking similar from afar, was actually a much higher speed road, making the onslaught of high-speed corners all the more challenging. At least I had my brakes back though.

Another charge up the mountain, I could feel the racer in me urge to get out, as I began to left foot brake the van into hard banked corners, there was most certainly a sense of motorsports and speed in the air on the stretch of rally heaven. While popping my eye’s up off the road at select points to search for the memorial, my attention was snatched away on a very fast double apex open hairpin, the eye’s of Possum looking down on me as the sound of dishes and cutlery clattered behind me as I wheeled the BaseJumper 2 around the tragic corner. Perched high on a rock cropping, a statue looked over the valley, with a kind grin on his face. There is no pullout until the road cuts back, where visitors can hike down to the memorial. The Bourne family found the perfect place for the statue, as Possums figure has almost perfect vision of the entire course with the beauty of the valley filling in the entire background. Here’s to you Possum.

A Sunny Sunday Drive in the Sunny

I was told to expect deep fall weather in late April on the north island of the Kiwi bird. However, all week its been near 30-degrees during the day, and I haven't seen a cloud since landing at Auckland International. I should have known since my new temporary home, Havelock North in Hawks Bay, is New Zealand's wine country. “Everything under the sun,” is the local visitors guide title. To a self-confessed hot weather grouch, I was here to prolong the dismally warm Canadian winter.

For three weeks, the Tauroa Farm would be my home, working as a farm hand few hours a each day in return for a bed to sleep and three meals to keep me going. Sunday was my day off, and as per the early waking hours on the workday, I was up at the break of dawn. A cold fog filled the valleys of North Havelock that morning, a perfect time to get out do some exploring, while the weather was cold. Jumping in my ten year-old rental car, a Nissan Sunny with wonky steering, bald tires, a broken front sway-bar and other curious noises of concern, I decided to explore the local Pacific beaches.

While the beaches were my destination, it would be the roads that turned out to be my entertainment for the day. The beautiful thing about New Zealand is the lack of freeways. Instead you have country lanes that been designated highways and are given a 100 kmh speed limit, everywhere. So no mater how winding or narrow the road gets, its still 100 kmh, with a couple lower speed recommendations for the tighter corners. This allows one to explore the limits of their car on a scenic country road.

Leaving Havelock North, I turn onto Waimarama road, heading south to my first destination, Ocean Beach. The tree-lined road gently winds through beautiful vineyard lands. With the steep grass and rock cliffs of the Craggy Mountain range towering over my right hand side, and fields of grape vines on my left, its a serene start to my day as the landscape slowly exposes itself to me through the light fog. Crossing over the Tuki Tuki River, I know have another mountain range standing between me and the sands of Ocean Beach.

The serenity of the vineyards fell as I began to climb out of the valleys fog and into the mountain pass. The road begins to undulate, and hug the increasingly rugged terrain, throwing the car from one blind corner, to another. Whatever mornings sleep that sill lingered in my eyes was quickly washed away with the red mist setting in. The road entices you to attack it, and attack it I did. Only a few short kilometers long, the drive to the cliffs above Ocean Beach, and the Pacific Ocean was short but sweet. My reward was a tranquil, breezy cliff over looking the long sand beach of the Ocean Beach village, followed by the expanse of a turquoise shaded Pacific. It was a view I could have taken in all day, however the draw on unexplored territory, and great roads to travel, pulled me away.

Making my way back, my excitement grew, as I now know the road, and began to lean the sagging and worn Sunny. By now the sun was intense in the sky, but with the window rolled down allowing in a cool ocean breeze, it was turning out to be a perfect sunny Sunday drive in my little Sunny.

Back to the base of the mountain range, this time a turn left, and head further south; destination, Waimarama beach. The Ocean beech road while a delight to drive, was still restrained with the constant metal-on-metal complaining coming from the front end of the Sunny. The road to Waimarama however, would see no such mercy on my part.

Long country straights handled easily at the posted 100 kmh limit, launch into a deadly series of hairpins climbing up and over the range once again, massive drop-offs lurking at the edge of the tarmac. The more aggressive nature of this pass had me pushing the poor tired little Sunny to its limits in the name of staying near the posted speed. Soon the front tires began to scream in pain as they struggled to grip the road surface, the car wallowing around madly with no sense of control underneath it. The wondrously entertaining road crested the hills, and the great expanse of blue could be seen once again. Tumbling down a series of tight hairpins towards the sea, tires lifted in the air as the chassis struggles to survive the onslaught of cambered corners, the chaos finally comes to an end in the sleepy town of Waimarama. The poor Sunny’s coolant, brakes and tires can now cool themselves in the ocean breeze as I drive the car out onto the sandy beech. As the car ticks and cracks away, I too can cool down on this breezy sunny beech, next to tractors laying in wait for incoming boaters, content that I have made the most of my day off with the little Sunny.

Road Trip: Grand-Saint-Bernard Pass

About The Route

Places To Stop: Pullout just over the tunnel entrance for spectacular views (27 km), Swiss Border, kiosks and Inns at the top of the Col (33 km), Pullout near tunnel ventilation shaft with a history lesson of Napoleon's expedition and great views (36 km).

Total Distance: 74.8 km

Altitude: 2,469 m

Best time to go: Pass is only open between June and September.

Starting Point: Coordinates 45°44′28″N - 7°18′51″E. Beginning in Aosta, Italy, take the E27/SS27 (Ave Grand-Saint-Bernard) north into the Alps. At 19 km, leave the tunnel route and follow SS27 over the pass. At 33 km is the summit as well as the Swiss border, the route then tracks down the Swiss side joining back up with the new route and continues on to Martigny, Switzerland.

Finishing Point: Coordinates 46°5′16″N – 7°3′19″E, Martigny, Switzerland.

Road Type: Smooth flowing two lane alpine road on Italian side that turns into a rough and narrow lane that slows due to terrain.

Warnings: Due to altitude and snowfall the pass is only open during summer months. The Swiss side of the pass has large drops with only the occasional stone to prevent long drops off the road.

Review

Who could forget the classic opening to The Italian Job. No, not Marky Mark walking through a Venetian piazza. The one from 1969 staring Michael Cain, that opened with Rossano Brazzi carving his way up an Italian Alp in a classic Lamborghini Miura to the musical mixture of a Lamborghini V-12 and the song “On days like these” performed by Matt Monro. Well, that special bit of road that Brazzi was enjoying until his untimely run-in with an ill placed bulldozer, was the Grand-Saint-Bernard Pass. After my adventure on the Col de Turini, I travelled north to experience the Grand-Saint-Bernard (lets call it the GSB) and ironically hit Turino at the hight of rush hour. Like Mini's full of gold loot, I too struggled to get my Z4 through the endless maze of traffic filled streets, for on the other side of the city lay the alps, and just beyond is the town of Aosta which leads to the hidden jewel that is the GSB.

Linking Aosta, Italy, to Martigny, Switzerland, the pass is a much more interesting alternative to the tolled tunnel that goes through the mountain. Experience has taught me when new roads are built under old ones, it’s a good sign that traffic will be light on the long road, and this was the case when I made the climb into the alpine border lands that mark the Swiss-Italian territories. Taken mid-evening on a weekday, I nearly had the entire pass all to myself, even the motorbikes and cyclists were few and far between, a trait the GSB is known for.

The route starts in the mountain valley leading north from Aosta, Italy, and begins as a winding country two-lane road. At the base of the Valais Alps, the road narrows to a single lane through a heavy wood, with rock barriers, so careful anticipation of oncoming is required. However, it all got interesting once I punched through the tree line and out into the alpine, a spectacular manmade line that traverses the side of the mountain four times before loping over the rocky crest. The expanse of the valley heeds a great view of any impeding traffic, while the narrow winding lane is littered with only a few sharp hairpins to give the driver an abundance of challenges.

Over the first crest, and I was greeted with a feast of meandering corners slowly making their way up to the famous tunnel of death just below the first peak. It is in this magnificent bowl that all the filming took place for the original Italian Job. No wonder, as this road is by far the most beautiful I've ever seen in terms of cosmetics, the route is a constant joyful challenge and the landscape is breathtaking. As I carved my way through the natural obstructions, I couldn’t help but whistle the iconic song to myself, with a disappointed look coming from my girlfriend from across the cabin. Yeah, it’s a cheese ball song, but at this particular moment in time, and in this particular place, no other song seemed worthy.

I have to hand it to the Italians, the condition of the road was immaculate, as it looked as though it just had a complete makeover prior to my arrival. The tarmac had that fresh black color with bright white lines, and the entire route up to the peak had clean, stained timber Armco barriers that acted as much of a decoration as much as a savior to the impending doom if anyone were to leave the road. Rightly so, several pullouts have been created for drivers to take a break from sweaty palm driving, to enjoy the rocky outcroppings, alpine meadows and brooks that make this place just that much more spec

ial. At the peak lies a mountain top lake, still half covered in ice, as well as the usual touristy kiosks, hotels and restaurants. Along the side of the lake sits a Swiss border guard shack, as the peak of this Alp represents the Swiss-Italian boarder, manned by two uniformed agents and a sharp looking Land Rover Defender. With a nod, I was waved through and began the decent down the Swiss side of the pass.

The Swiss side is a stark contrast to that of the Italian, as the road was very narrow, and bumpy. Nerves are tested with much larger drop offs and nothing more than a few stones planted on the side of the road to keep you alive - maybe. Arriving in Martingy, Switzerland, the end point of the pass, I had time to reflect on this beautiful stretch of road. While it may not have been the greatest driving road in the series, it still made for a truly special driving experience. Breathe taking views, great road construction, history, and a great mix of aggressive and challenging driving conditions all make the GSB is a must if you find yourself in northwestern Italy, or southwestern Switzerland.

Road Trip: The Stelvio Pass

About The Route:

Best time to Go: Weekdays during May, June, September and October

Total Distance:  41 km

Altitude: 2760 meters

Starting Point: From Bormio, Italy take route SS38 northeast through the Stelvio National Park on to the village of Stelvio itself.

Places To Stop: At 9.4 km, a nice pullout to view the West slope hairpin complex and tunnels. 20.3 km, the peak with a small village of restaurants and tourist kiosks, as well as one of the most spectacular views of the Northern hairpin complex.

Road Type: Very narrow mountain pass with rock retainers and a mixture of smooth and rough tarmac.

Warnings: Tunnels are dark and narrow so flashers and horns needed; bikers are suicidal as well as oncoming farm tractors.

 

Review:

It is in a constant state of trying to take your life. The Stelvio Pass, or Passo dello Stelvio, has so many different threatening driving situations that your life can be taken any number of ways. It is a living entity that will haunt your dreams if not handled with the proper respect, yet requires a level of aggression to concour and enjoy as adrenaline flows through your veins. It is a truly terrific creation that the ass kissing bureaucrats of Ottawa would have heart attacks at the mere mentioning of building such a spectacle in Canada. So what better place to test the limits of BMW’s new Z4.

 

My journey starts in Munich where I went to talk to BMW’s head of Chassis and Brake testing, Andreas Lichte, about what car gave him the most pleasure to drive and what road would he most enjoy driving it on. Lichte has been testing BMW’s since 1991, and for him there is no greater road than that of the Stelvio Pass, a route well used by BMW to test their braking systems and suspension components. If they can survive the Stelvio, they can survive anything the average motorist can throw at them. Lichte’s prime choice for this road was the all-new 2009 Z4 sDrive 35i, BMW’s premier sports roadster/coupe. And so, I left BMW’s test fleet facility with a Z4 in hand, heading for the Italian-Swiss boarder to experience the Stelvio.

 

After the long drive I finally arrived in Bormio Italy, stopping off at a large pullout at the base of the mountain on highway SS38 to mount in-car cameras and check the car over. Despite the low season, it came as no surprise of the Stelvio’s popularity as I was soon joined by several other high performance rides, piloted by drivers from all over the world. A TVR Chimaera driven by some Brits, some Aussies in a Mustang, a couple Frenchmen in a Renault Clio Sport RS, and several Germans sporting the best of Zuffenhausen and Ingolstadt, while I held up the pride of Munich in the Z4, sporting a small maple leaf on the back. With the glorious roar of V-8, V-6, Inline-6 and a screaming four-banger power, the multinational train of performance cars raced up the western valley. With a group like this however, a leisurely tour over the pass was never a possibility as we all competed to get to each look-out before any of the others, get our pictures than jump back in to do battle on this amazingly challenging stretch of road.

 

As our little convoy worked its way up the narrow west slope, dodging oncoming bikers and a tractor of all things, we appeared out of the last of six tunnels carved into the rocky cliff-side. Ahead was the first hairpin complex towering so high above it was blocking out the sun. Our narrow rocky run that demanded absolute confidence in the dimensions of the automobile now dives into a series of tight switchbacks that climb up onto the alpine highlands. Bouncing back and forth between 2^nd and 3^rd gear as I zigzag my way up the slope we break out onto a long stretch full of high-speed bends through a beautiful green meadow. A nice calm before the perfect storm that was to come, and come it did, as our little competition came to a full and complete halt at the top of the pass.

Just meters beyond the mass of tourist kiosks on the peak trying to rid you of your money, lays one of the most spectacular sites of the automotive world. Standing in shock, with a cold sweat rolling off my brow, a dropped jaw and a little bit of drool hanging off the corner of my mouth as I gaze upon the engineering masterpiece that is the Stelvio East slope. What I saw was mile upon mile of excitement written in tarmac, stretching as far as the eye can see. Mile after mile of driving glory on a slope so steep some of the hairpins aren’t even visible from the lookout. Jumping into the drivers seat, my hands have a slight shake in anticipation of the route ahead. But the Z4 is an extremely capable beast, and Mr. Lichte used this very stretch to hone its performance.

Nerves quickly fade as I plummet the car down the mountainside, there is no room for error now. One slip up now and I either tear off the side of the car on the stone barriers, or launch it through a hairpin, to spend eternity rolling down one of Europe’s tallest Alps. With the adrenalin flowing and sweat beginning to form, I was not the only one heating up. A third of the way down and the distinctive scent of well-worked brakes began to fill the cabin, the technical difficulty of the road challenging both driver and machine. Carving around banked hairpins with the cobble stones from the old road showing through, the driving ecstasy seemed never ending as the road continued to fall down the alp into the Stelvio valley.

 

Cruising through the thick forest into the village of Stelvio, a stop was required to take in the magnitude of what I had just accomplished. To a driving enthusiast, the Stelvio pass has a character all to itself, giving drivers extreme challenges of steep slopes, narrow roads, a great mixture of slow and fast corners, spectacular views and a route that is more enjoyable than most racing tracks.

 

Road Trip: San Bernardino Pass

About The Route

Best time to Go: Weekdays during May, June, September and October

Places To Stop: Old hotel and restaurant at the passes peak, a view of the Zapporthorn as well as a high alpine lake. Excellent exploring opportunities, here and throughout the alpine area region.

Total Distance:  48 km

Altitude: 260m-2,066m

Starting Point: Beginning in Castione, Switzerland, head north on highway #13 Blue. The highway follows the Mesolcina valley over the mountain, and on to Hinterrhein, Switzerland.

Road Type: Flowing smooth road surface with a variety of changing topography.

Warnings: Watch for cyclists and Hikers as this area has many trails. Pass closed in the winter due to the amount of snowfall.

 

Review: Our next great road was suggested to us by the Head of Testing for the new Mercedes S-Class, Uwe Hörnig. Mr. Hörnigs favourite strip of tarmac is the San Bernardino Pass in southern Switzerland that links the Hinterrhein and the Mesolcina valleys, offering great challenges to both driver and car while driving through some of the most beautiful scenery and spectacular countryside in the Southern Alps. The San Bernardino is part of an extensive route that Uwe and his colleagues test the new S-Class; a course that features a wide variety of road conditions to ensure the car meets Mercedes high standards. When asked what he would drive the San B. with access to the Mercedes fleet, Hörnig replied that the S-400 Hybrid would be his choice. He noted, ”The S-400 Hybrid makes driving easier, more comfortable and, above all, safer without a shortage of driving pleasure. New technology and lithium-ion batteries means the car is as close to standard weight as possible while at the same time being both powerful and fuel efficient.”

With Mr. Hörnigs advice in hand I made my way to southern Switzerland to experience for myself what the San Bernardino had in store. Now, when he mentioned that he would have chosen the big S-Class to drive a narrow alpine pass, I had the distinct feeling that he must have been getting the evil eye from a Public Relations person to plug Mercedes latest offering. However, his choice started to make sense as I lumbered into the alpine of the pass. The San Bernardino really does offer a great amount of variety in terrain, and its smooth and fairly wide lanes (for a Alp pass) changed my way of thinking. Having driven the Grossglockner and other technically challenging passes with my hair on fire, the engine bouncing off the rev limiter, tires screaming in pain at the loss of adhesion and eyes dried out from the concentration required to safely navigate such roads open to oncoming traffic is a magnificent experience. But it’s also extremely taxing on you both physically and mentally. A great Alpine pass can also be enjoyed by simply cruising through at a sane speed and the San Bernardino definitely calls for an easy cruise to soak up not only this great road, but the spectacular scenery as well.

The beauty of the San Bernardino is that it’s a two-headed beast. There is the new autoroute, (A13 Red) which is a faster direct route through the valley, and slips into a 6.6 km tunnel that bypasses the summit. Unlike many pass upgrades, this route is still only a two-lane highway, still fairly windy and offers great views of the towering Alps above. However, it will be the old route (13B Blue) that I will be talking about here. The pass has been used since the Roman era, with several sections of an ancient path visible to the curious and energetic hiker. But it wasn’t until 1823 that a proper road was built, with a painstaking rebuild in the 1990’s.

Starting at the south point of highway 13B in Castione, the road is quite tame, and slow for that matter as it meanders up the valley through farmland and several small villages. Once you get past the sleepy villages, the road begins to breath some life as it rises into the forested highlands. It all starts with a couple of hairpins, then the road begins to climb into the hills, cutting a path through the thick forest while adhering to natures law of following the terrain. It is here that you get great views of the A13 as it does its best to break those rules, crashing through mountainside and using bridges to keep every thing on the level. After quite a while of this very pleasurable driving, I came across the village of San Bernardino itself. It’s a deserted ski village rammed full of ski lodges, hotels and restaurants, all but shutdown here in the summer.

 

After San Bernardino the pass starts to climb into the alpine. Here tree’s become extinct, the terrain becomes tundra, and the road blossoms into a winding mess of gloriousness. Above the tree line, you can see well down the road, allowing speeds to become interesting without fear of the unknown around a blind corner. Also the lack of stupidly steep drop-offs means one can start to use the entire road, even dipping a wheel off if one so inclines. It  ‘s a fluid road that winds around a glaciated landscape with glaciated knobs, mires and small lakes. The San Bernardino’s Alpine section is a driver’s dream, like a racecourse that has been placed atop a mountain. It really gives back in ways a Canadian driver could never imagine. Of course there are still a good number of hairpins thrown in to keep everything interesting, but perfectly placed sporadically along the route. The summit represents both a cultural and drainage basin border with locals speaking Italian in the south and German in the north.

 Like most passes, falling down the other side reveals a much different environment. In the case of the San Bernardino, the terrain became much steeper, and the road slows with tighter turns and narrower passages. From the wide open alpine, 13 blue falls down a steep rocky gulley. The hairpin lovers will love this section as the road slowly steps itself down the mountain, hugging the side of the cliff. At the base of the steep cliffs is rich farmland, full of the stereotypical Swiss cows. Take a rest break at the bottom, and listen to the echo of hundreds of cow bells bounce off the valley walls for an equally impressive scene as the road above.

Road trip: The Grossglockner

About The Route:

Best time to Go: Weekdays during May, June, September and October

Places To Stop: Tourist kiosks and restaurants at the passes peak, as well as the Grossglockner lookout just above, Grossglockner Glacier, Celtic monument, Hot Springs

Total Distance:  48 km

Altitude: 757m - 2,428m, 2504 at the lookout

Starting Point: Begin in Lienz, Austria. Head north on highway #107 or “The Grossglocknerstrasse,” over the Grossglockner mountain, and on to Bruck, Austria

Road Type: High speed flowing Alpine Pass with a good smooth road surface

Warnings: Watch for Hikers, Marmots and Sheep. Also expect a 28 Euro Toll charge. Open between May and October and only between 6am and 9:30pm, check road conditions before leaving.

Additional info: www.grossglockner.at/en 

 

Review:

Welcome to the first installment of our search for great driving roads of the world. As an automotive enthusiast I believe that a great car is only as good as the road you drive it on. So in an effort to find these great roads I’ve traveled to Europe and enlisted the help of Test Drive Engineers form several manufacturers to guide me to some of the worlds most spectacular stretches of tarmac. Who better than the skilled test drivers who’s sole purpose is to find chanlenging and rewarding roads that will take a car to its absolute limits, to guide us to their favourite playgrounds. We begin this first installment by talking to Andreas Proebstle, the Chassis Testing Project Manager for the Panamera at Porsche. Mr, Proebstle recalled that given the oppritunetly, he would jump into a Boxster with his wife, and head for the Alps. Alpine passes such as the Grossglockner, a route he uses regularly in testing the Panamera. Funny name yes, but this heavenly strip of tarmac that reaches over Austria’s tallest Alp turned out to be one of the finest bit of driving pleasure I have ever had the pleasure to encounter. Given a free weekend Andreas hinted that the Boxster would be his personal favourite car for this route, given its open top design, its great balance and fun to drive attitude that makes it an ideal holiday car. So, with Mr. Proebstle’s recomondations in hand, off I went to find out just what the Gross, as I will call it, is all about.

 

 

For those who have seen Top Gears search for the worlds greatest driving road, you’ll remember that the good James May insisted on going to Austria, only to be out voted by Jeremy and Hamster to name the Stelvio as their greatest road. Well its too bad they never made it across the border as the Gross out-shone the Stelvio with a much more playful and high-speed route.

 

Traveling north from Lienz, Austria, hwy #107 leads towards the Grossglockner National Park. The whole region is sacred to the Austrians as several mythes and tails can be mixed in with the scenic beauty of this protected park. The run up the 107 is a much more pleasurable experience than most roads leading to alpine passes. Speeds where kept high in the 80 km/h range, and there are not many villages to slow you down.

 

I won’t get into all the fairy tales, but I will give a quick history lesson. Austria’s defeat in the First World War brought about a devastating economic downturn. In an effort to increase motorized tourism and trade, plans were made to build a three meter wide roadway over the ancient Celt and Roman trail through the Hochtor Alp range. While the ancient trail has been in use for over four thousand years, the roadway was completed in 1935, with a international hill climb race celebrating the road opening. The event was a hit and was run two more times before the onset of the Second World War.

 

Today, this impressive pass now hosts flocks of auto and moto enthusiasts hell bent to take on one of the greatest Alpine passes, along side several car manufacturers who use the challenging nature of the road to test performance and safety systems. The business starts at the toll booth at the base of the main climb. Here you must part with 28 Euro’s for the pleasure of tearing through their sacred park. Soon after I realized it was a small price to pay for such a glorious road. The first section traverses the base of the mountain, with substantial drops off the left side, however, the road is smooth and wide, by European Alpine pass standards anyway, allowing drivers to reach higher speeds, challenging the tires grip. As I began to gain altitude, the fast winding road started to challenge me even further by throwing in some hairpins. Not massive amounts like Stelvio or Furka, but just enough to give the Gross an even variety of challenging terrain. As my altitude rose, along with my speed, tires began to cry of overuse, brakes were being strained entering corners, while the back end was beginning to loose the fight coming out. Adrenaline had now filled my blood, and sweat was began to saturate, as I flung the car around one of only a few blind corners to see the road filled with sheep. Most passes have electric fences to keep livestock off the dangerous roads, but not with the Gross.

 

After weaving through the fluff, who seemed quite interested in my car, I was off again. Only to find fog was forming at the higher altitudes, but no problem, I’ve driven in fog before, just have to be a little more cautious. Then a group of hikers appeared out of the haze. Then again another group of hikers stealthly appeared. Something isn’t right here, soon the scattered groups became an onslot of humanity, casually parting to allow me through. The thousands of hikers, all with Nordic sticks in hand, had turned my extacy into a monotonous knightmare. Slowly I crawled against the wave of people, over the peak and half way down what was an equally glorious down slope. Fog and hikers ruining what was the greatest road I had ever seen, let alone driven. With a tight schedule demanding a hasty retreat, I will have to wait for another day to properly tackle the Gross.