Bikepacking the Soca Valley: A Journey of One Thousand Miles (Part 3)

My traverse across the Eastern Dolomites brought me to the foothills of the Julian Alps, where I was to begin bikepacking the Soca Valley. I’d experienced remoteness and isolation for the first time on this journey of one thousand miles. I’d ridden in thick clouds, through apocalyptic rain, getting further and further from civilisation. Having spent a lot of time in crowded locations in the central alps, it felt strange but also satisfying to get away from people. I felt like I was exploring now. These were the hidden gems I had hoped to uncover.

Entering the Soca Valley and Julian Alps.

Falzarego pass was a truly beautiful alpine climb. I had it all to myself. Broken roads, tiny barriers at each hairpin. Lush green hills. Clouds hugging the mountainside. This wasn’t a holiday location, this was the alps in their raw, rugged, most beautiful form.

Ordinarily my morning coffee is spent dealing with emails and establishing my days work. This was far better! For all the alpine wonder I spent hours climbing for, some of the simpler moments are the ones I’m most fond of.

When travelling by bike, at a relatively slow pace, you’re more immersed in your surroundings. Changes in the landscape are more noticeable. The Dolomites were distinctly granite coloured – well, aside from the cloud and the rain! Moving east, into the Soca valley and Julian alps, green and turquoise became more prominent. I was definitely at lower altitude too. The rivers were flatter and wider, the mountain air still as crisp, but a little warmer.

I don’t agree with artificial borders, politics, passports and general nonsense that we humans ludicrously create to distinguish between each other – it’s just not necessary. But getting into Slovenia felt like a proper border, a real natural border between Italy and eastern Europe. The actual border crossing itself was an abandoned war bunker, littered with beer bottles. Evidently not used for a long time. For any brits wondering about cycle touring post Brexit, I didn’t have to show my passport once between France (at the channel tunnel) and Vienna (at the airport).

The 4km, 20% climb up Sella Carnizza was brutal. After my Dolomites efforts, I had planned a 60km rest day, exploring Slovenia and bikepacking the Soca valley. I remember the climb, although not the longest, being one of the toughest. It was supposed to be rest day. I didn’t need or plan for this. I can deal with gradients and ascent when I prepare for it – this came totally unexpected and bloody hurt!

That said, it was totally worth it. Bovec is a brilliant, vibrant town – adventure capital of Slovenia. No matter what you wanted to do, you could find it in Bovec. Kayaking, rafting, mountain biking, paragliding, climbing, via ferrata. In fact, if you weren’t on the pursuit of outdoor adventure, you’d be pretty lost here!

I knew I wanted to go bikepacking the Soca valley from the world of whitewater kayaking. I had seen pictures of the valley. Pictures rarely do a place justice; you’re seeing someone else’s perspective through a lens. If a picture looks magical, then the reality is it’ll be so much better to actually experience it.

I wanted to avoid touristy Lake Bled. I’ve seen enough pictures of it, I imagined it to be like Hallstatt. Cool, but high density of people just battling for photo opportunities.

My rest day saw me meander through the Soca valley, eating ice cream, finding swim spots, chilling out by the river and just generally watching the world go by, enjoying this stunning part of the world. Holiday mode was properly engaged in the Soca valley – it was nice to switch off and forget all about cycling one thousand miles across the alps.

I ran out of superlatives at this point in the journey. What a valley. Steep peaks, vibrant green mountainside. Magical, clear river.

The only thing I was slightly gutted about, from Zaga to Bovec, the road doesn’t quite follow the river. Riverside cycle paths are a big thing in Europe, the Soca valley would be the crown jewel of them all. Whilst the Alpe Adria trail does follow the river, its mountain bike territory. Not touring oriented and unfortunately unsuitable for my set up.

I have fond memories of that day. Swimming in the river during the day and pissed up/building foreign relations over cheap Slovenian beer at night, drinking with the locals. My bike set up was attracting attention right across the alps. Whilst I was travelling solo, I was rarely alone on this trip, with a variety of people intrigued about where I was heading and where I’d been.

At 2 euros a pint, I was as happy as an Englishman in a bar! Just thinking about and reflecting on the journey so far. Over the last week, I had so many reasons to smile. What I had achieved, the passes I’d ticked off, the views I’d seen, the emotion I’d experienced, I was fulfilling my bucketlist.

I got up to leave after having supped my fair share of cheap booze, only to be stopped and offered another drink. I had nowhere to be, I was in no rush, who I am to refuse such an offer! speaking perfect English, I felt ignorant pulling up a chair. In Slovenia, with a Slovenian, conversing in fluent English.

I think its brilliant that two cultures are able to converse and share stories, but I hate the fact English is one of the most popular languages in the world. We brits are so lazy with languages.

Christ knows how I managed to cycle to a camp spot that night, let alone erect my tent. I have no experience cycling drunk… promise. I cooked up my Firepot meal that night, in the dark, drunk as a skunk.

Luckily the Soca valley is the perfect location for a hangover cure. It was a crisp, chilly start. Morning light still hadn’t risen over the peaks. Mist was still clinging to river. I was in no rush to leave Slovenia; this beautiful country had captivated me. From bikepacking the Soca Valley, I wanted to push further into the Balkans, but my route & timescale didn’t allow. The language and landscape had changed significantly, I wanted to head further south east to continue exploring. I felt strangely homely, in the middle of nowhere surrounded by a language I couldn’t comprehend. No major towns, no pretence, no hustle, just enjoying the natural surroundings and adventure on offer.

With a heavy heart, I saddled up and followed the river north – where I was greeted with one last surprise. The Vrsic pass. That was my ticket to Kranjska Gora and entry to Austria. Again it wasn’t the highest or longest, but another tough climb, rewarded with utterly majestic views across the Soca valley and Julian alps. Bikepacking the Soca valley has two tough points, the start (entry) and the end (exit)!

Maybe my hangover and holiday mode made this one feel tough, but the rewards were simply magnificent. I felt like Slovenia was doing everything it could to make me turn around a stay a little longer, like a child tugging your shirt for attention. I mean I would’ve happily stayed, if it weren’t for life responsibility and a flight home to catch! Ticking off a new country is always awesome too!

Couldn’t resist one last swim in Kranjska after descending the cobbles of Vrsic. When given the choice of a deadline or fun, always choose fun. I had a schedule with lots of distance still to cover. But the sun was shining and I wanted to go swimming. I fell in love with Slovenia, so obviously I choose to stay just a little bit longer!