All the flavours of Marche

So, in order not to be overcome by the wisdom of a sweet tooth in a pastry shop, for our first taste of this area we decided to rely on an expert.
Mauro Fumagalli is a Brianza native transplanted first for work, and then for love, to the shores of the Adriatic. He has covered tens of thousands of kilometres during his life on the pedals. Until a few decades ago, he was a promising student and then amateur racer — those were the years in which he happened to ride elbow to elbow with the likes of Gianni Bugno. Now, Mauro is an experienced cycling guide for hundreds of tourists who, from March to November, he leads to discover the ever-changing charm of the Marche’s roads. So he will be our Virgil in this two-day event, which of course may only be a taste, but one that contains the ingredients that make the Marche a very special territory, thanks to its nature, art, culture, landscape and of course, what it offers the soul when explored by bike.

We depart from Civitanova Marche, and at the end of a wide loop encompassing coastline, hills, mountains and then hills again, this will also be our finish line. But there is not much time to lose: 48 hours and some 293 kilometres of mangia-e-bevi await us. You will realise from reading these pages — but even more so if you have been enticed to follow in our footsteps — that this is not an exclusively cycling-focused journey. Between consumption and culinary intake, your nutritional balance may well be in danger of breaking even.

The comb-like morphology of this part of the Adriatic hinterland, furrowed in close sequence by parallel valleys, means that you will hardly find any flat stretches (with the exception of the valley floor roads, which are the most urban, the least interesting and the busiest with traffic). After all, looking for the most beautiful landscapes means riding on the most challenging roads. The fun, after all, is just that. And so we set off.
This late summer day promises well, with the perfect temperature and a light breeze. The clear sky on the horizon illuminates the profiles of the hills, and further behind the peaks of the mountains that we will have to reach in the evening. They seem very close, within shooting distance, but it is a deception we choose not to fall for.

From Piazza XX Settembre, which opens towards the seafront, Mauro leads us out of Civitanova Marche along the cycle path that runs along the coast and then enters the right bank of the river Chienti, marking the border between the Macerata and Fermano areas. With just a few pedal strokes we leave the salty air of the beaches behind. In these parts, the valley floor places ancient and modern trades side by side; countryside cultivated like gardens and the busy factories of local enterprises, which in recent decades have embodied excellence in the field of footwear and leather production (famous both at home and abroad).
We proceed at a good pace along the secondary roads. Many are unpaved with an excellent, compacted surface. The first bend approaches and we climb a ridge road: we are straddling the Chienti valley and that of the Ete, a river with a course as short as its name. We take a flying leap down a long, winding dirt track that then climbs up the opposite hill — it’s a classic. The road appears as an invitation to run wild, which without a break, steepens just as the descent ends. Let go of the brakes and take full advantage of the momentum. Surrounding us in the fields, the recent sunflower harvest has left its mark on the countryside. The stems of the decapitated plants are all that’s left.

We arrive in Montegranaro, the capital of the footwear district. Over the last 50 years, many craftsmen have refined their skills here, becoming one of the major Italian production centres for high-quality shoes and footwear accessories. I don’t know if this is by chance, or if it’s a clue: the road we reach at the end of a dirt track takes us towards a town called Strada Cura Mostrapiedi. Like most of the historical villages in the Marche, Montegranaro is perched on top of a hill. The historic centre, amid steep uphill streets and beautiful aristocratic buildings, is gathered around the long, narrow Piazza Mazzini. Time for a coffee and then off we go again.
We head south into the Tenna valley. Between Ponzano di Fermo and Grottazzolina — another village clinging to the top of a hillside around its mediaeval fortress — Mauro asks us to make a diversion, and rightly so. At the end of a descent, the ruins of the Madonna delle Cataste stand proud of the countryside like an altar. They are the remains of a small, circular temple with an uncovered roof. Don’t be fooled by its mediaeval appearance — it’s a small church erected about a century ago as a votive offering (popular myths speculate that the Madonna appeared here). It was then destroyed in a fire and later abandoned. A few years ago, cleared of brushwood, it became a much-photographed destination, a sort of miniature San Galgano of the Marche.

We take the road again, which runs with an increasingly nerve-inducing altimetry, until it reaches the ridge that overlooks the left bank of the Tenna. We pass a sequence of ancient and precious villages that deserve a less hurried stop (Magliano di Tenna, Montegiorgio, Falerone, Penna San Giovanni, Gualdo). But we have an appointment at the end of the day, someone is waiting for us at the top of the Sibillini Mountains before sunset. We have to move our legs. However, we make an exception in Alteta — a handful of houses and amber stone buildings clustered around a square. We fill up with water at the little fountain and sit for a moment, absorbing our surroundings. Cracks in the walls and some restraining scaffolding are there to remind us that the 2016 earthquake is still a difficult wound to heal.

Right from Gualdo, the Sibillini Mountains begin to frame the horizon. But after a sweeping bend, they appear to us in all their magnificence — we stop at the edge of a dark, freshly ploughed field to admire the buttresses of the great plateau. It looks like a vast terrace on which the clouds are resting. Further south, where it is already Abruzzo, we can glimpse the outlines of the Monti della Laga and the imposing mass of the Gran Sasso. The afternoon draws to a close and we have an appointment.
We leapfrog the town of Sarnano, which will host us tonight, and attack the climb to Sassotetto, a finish line well known to fans of Tirreno-Adriatico. It is a little over ten kilometres of climbing, with about 750 metres of altitude difference. If you have to fill your water bottle, do so at Fonte dei Brilli, about a kilometre and a half further on. From here to the summit, there is no other way to refuel. The gradient is challenging, but steady. The average is 8.4%, with some tougher sections in the middle section and a few peaks at 12%. After a sequence of hairpin bends, where the main challenge is not to stop and cast your eyes towards the open horizon and the sea, the road flattens out.

We take the left fork for Sassotetto, which leads to the square surrounded by hotels and the ski lift. We stop to rest, but it is not over. Still waiting for us is the most beautiful part of the road, the one like a triumphal entrance, which gives us a view of the enchanted Sibillini plateau. After a couple more hairpin bends that add a little spice, we climb to over 1,300 metres. Beech and coniferous trees give way only to meadows and sky. This is the Maddalena pass, at 1,456 metres. And it is here that we have our rendezvous. At the sign indicating the pass on the right-hand side of the road, there is a kind of white menhir. Engraved on it in blue are a phrase and a photo: “Ride your bike, have fun, chase a dream”. These are the words of Michele Scarponi, placed here in October 2021, to greet those who pass by and those who continue to believe in the beauty of cycling. Mission accomplished. For today. All that remains is to turn back.

At Sarnano they’re waiting for us with dinner. The mayor will be with us (don’t worry, it’s nothing institutional). Just the pleasure of telling us, without a tie or tricolore sash, how the people of Sarnano did not lose heart after the earthquake. In just a few years, they worked to rebuild the town, making it safe and ensuring that the citizens remained part of their community. Sarnano, a gateway to the Sibillini Mountains, cultivates with intelligence and vision the great resource of outdoor tourism that cycling offers — road, gravel, mountain-bike and downhill. It’s a declaration of excellence.
The trattoria, just outside the village, has a joke name. The menu, on the other hand, is something very serious, and very tasty. Among the various courses, we mention just one that stands out from the rest: pork ribs with broad beans and wild fennel. Late in the evening, the B&B window, open over the rooftops of Sarnano, frames the moon that rests like the afternoon clouds on the crests of the Sibillini Mountains. And on the words of Michele Scarponi, which will also guide us tomorrow.

In the morning at breakfast, if you find the nougat tart, know that it will give you a nice boost — we leave Sarnano to head for Lake Fiastra, in the northernmost part of the Monti Sibillini National Park. We get there by climbing the woodland valley of the Fiastrone, which in places narrows to form a spectacular green canyon. We stop, in the biting coolness of the day, to admire the emerald waters of the lake from the dam — an artificial basin built after the war to supply the area with hydro-electric energy. From Fiastra, another village that still shows the painful scars of the earthquake, we descend into the upper Chienti valley for about 20 kilometres. Beyond the lake of Caccamo, the track becomes nervous again.

After a stop in the evocative ellipsis of Piazza del Popolo in San Severino, we arrive in Treia. Here we pay homage to the sferisterio and to the memory of the local sports star, Carlo Didimi, the Maradona of the pallone col bracciale, who was even celebrated in a poem by Giacomo Leopardi.
Piazza della Repubblica is a spectacular architectural balcony. From here the view embraces a large part of the Macerata hills, which will be our horizon for the rest of the day. Along a wonderful dirt track that ploughs through the countryside, dotted with olive and oak trees, we leave Treia behind and in the direction of Appignano, then continue towards the towns of Morrovalle and Potenza Picena.

So, at the end of our two Alvento-ian days, we reached the harbour. And that is not a figure of speech. We dock our bikes along the colourful wharf of Civitanova’s tourist port, closing the sea-hill-mountain-hill-sea circle. The Marche region by bicycle is not just that, of course: but that alone is a lot.