Alps + Adriatic, part 2 (Croatia)

We crossed the border into Croatia, climbed the hills above Trieste and were greeted with an immense, beautiful panorama of the Adriatic: deep blue water and islands dotting the landscape, the coastline receding into the distance, with green mountains providing scenic relief.

This is the coastline of my childhood: my parents left Croatia 2 years before I was born, and I returned often with them, spending weeks and even months on the coast every summer. The sea is an emotional home for most Croatians; they spend their summers on the Adriatic, emptying the cities in the months of July and August.

We soon stopped at a small coastal resort town, stripped down to our swim trunks and jumped in the clear blue water of the Adriatic. It's been five long years since I was in Croatia, and it felt like home. We topped off our swim with a local beer and a cevapcici sandwich, made of spiced meat and pita bread. Yum.

An hour later, we arrived at our hotel: a 16th-century baron's residence in the interior, surrounded by vineyards and rolling green hills. The owners bought the villa from the community in 2000, and spent 2 years lovingly restoring it. Before we sat down to dinner, the owner sat us down in front of his homemade rakije (whisky) collection. There was fig whisky, mistletoe whisky, cherry whisky, and others. More yum.

Dinner was a multi-course, 3-hour affair. We finished off our crepe desserts completely stuffed, ready for bed and the adventures that awaited.

The next day, we hopped in the van and drove to Mt. Ucka national park. This mountain, known as the Ucka Massif, is about 3,000 feet high and overlooks the Adriatic and the mountains of Italy. We drove right up to the top, then pushed our bikes the final few metres to the top. Remants of a castle stood on top of the mountain, along with a small gift shop in its base. The views were spectacular.

Doug the Aussie and I took turns riding down the spiraling castle steps and then we set out en masse, with our Croatian guide Martin leading the way.

We ducked into the forest, past a group of German hikers, and entered some beautiful forested singletrack. It alternated between sections of smooth dirt and sections of technical rock. We exited onto the road a few kilometres down from the castle and then rode down the road until the next section of trail. Which is where things took a different turn.

The next section of trail was unforgettable - not for its fun, or beauty, or any other positive adjectives I might throw at it, but because it was sheer survival for 60 minutes. The 'trail' became narrow doubletrack, so rocky that at times I felt my bike was going to explode and I'd be forced to walk the various parts of my bike down to the valley bottom 2,000 feet below. A few thorn bushes added to the excitement.

Joe the American and I were the rear guard - Team Hardtail as we called ourselves - and we cursed ourselves for leaving our nice soft squishy full suspension bikes at home. We exited the trail several kilometeres later, feeling a few inches shorter and a few fillings lighter.

As the saying goes, you win some, and you lose some. We'll call this one a draw. The traditional lunch at the base of Mt. Ucka made up for the bone-jarring descent, and later that day we drove to the beautiful medieval seaside town of Rovinj. A ferry took us over to the island of St. Martin, and we had a beautiful open-air dinner with the smell of sea salt in the air, Istrian wine accompanying a delicious feast.

Later that night, we swam under the midnight stars, the warm Adriatic sea a perfect end to a demanding day.

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