Words by Jess Stone

I’ll be honest, I had absolutely no idea what to expect on this trip whatsoever. When SCOTT and Bosch reached out and asked if I’d be interested, I didn’t even hesitate. Of course I said yes! Every single trip I’ve done with SCOTT has been an incredible adventure, the kind that fills you with stories, laughter, and memories for a lifetime. So naturally, there was no way I was going to pass up another opportunity like this.

Early on, I found out I’d be riding with Theresa. At that point, I didn’t know much about her beyond her Instagram profile, but I knew it was going to be an e-bike trip and that alone was exciting, and honestly, a little nerve-racking. I’d never actually been on an e-bike before, so I was curious to see how it would change the experience. That mix of anticipation and uncertainty made it all the more thrilling.

What surprised me most, though, was how instantly our little crew clicked. From the first few minutes we met, there was this easy energy, as if we’d all known each other for ages. You could just tell it was going to be one of those trips, the kind that you never want to end. Theresa, in particular, completely inspired me. Her enthusiasm was contagious, her kindness effortless, and when she asked me to share some cornering tips, I was honestly taken aback. Here she was, already such a skilled and confident rider, yet so open, humble, and genuinely eager to learn. That kind of attitude is rare, and it reminded me how powerful it is to stay curious, no matter your level. She’s one of those people who makes everyone around her better and it was a joy to share the trail with her.

I’ll admit I’m terrible at remembering the names of places we visited. What sticks with me instead are the feelings, the moments. For me, it wasn’t about ticking off destinations or chasing the perfect photo spot; it was about the experience itself. The laughter over lunch breaks, the endless views that made you stop and stare in silence, the sound of dirt under tires, and the shared sense of freedom that only comes from being out there together. And yes, the Radlers (50% beer and 50% Sprite)! Those became part of the adventure, too.

Each day brought something new, weaving through valleys where rivers sparkled in the morning light, climbing up steep alpine gravel roads and rocky trails toward mountain passes that seemed to touch the sky. Reaching the top always felt like a small victory, rewarded with breathtaking views stretching across endless ridgelines. Then came the best part: the descent. Flowing, playful singletrails that twisted and turned through open meadows and forests – pure joy in motion. It’s the kind of riding that makes you forget everything else and just be in the moment.

Learning how to handle an e-bike on technical terrain was another whole adventure on its own. Figuring out how to modulate power, how to climb efficiently, and how to dance with the bike was all new to me and exhilarating. I couldn’t believe how much ground we were able to cover, or how accessible it made these massive landscapes feel. The e-bike opened a whole new world of possibility: you could climb to 3,000 meters, still have energy to soak in the view at the top, and then fully enjoy the descent (dodging the marmots) afterwards!

The scenery was utterly mind-blowing, a perfect blend of wildness and serenity. The crew was next level, the bikes were unbelievable, and those mountain views will stay burned into my memory forever. By the end of the trip, I felt both physically fulfilled and emotionally recharged. I’d spent a week surrounded by incredible people, sharing laughter, challenges, and pure joy on the trails.

After long days on the trails, our evenings at the hut became a highlight of the trip. There was something so comforting about rolling in, dusty and tired, leaning the bikes against the wall and kicking off our shoes as the sun dipped behind the peaks. The air would cool, the chatter would grow louder, and the smell of good food filled the room. We’d sit together around the table, replaying the day’s moments, laughing over close calls and unexpected victories. It was the perfect cool-down: relaxed, content, and full of warmth. After a good meal, a cold drink, and the quiet hum of the mountains outside, you could feel your body and mind recharging, ready for another big day of adventure when the sun rises again.

If I could sum it up, I’d say it was one of those rare experiences where everything just clicks – people, place, purpose. I can only hope there’s an Episode 2, because I’d do it all again in a heartbeat.

We kicked things off with an easy loop to warm up, check our bikes, and get to know each other a bit better. It also made things smoother from a logistics point of view.
Our first climb took us up the Bergkastel side, where we dropped into the Almtrail – the perfect way to wake up the legs and get a first taste of that alpine dirt and stunning mountain scenery. The trail led us all the way to the famous tank barriers at the border crossing. Once you roll into Italy, the trail steepens and dives down toward Lake Reschen. It’s the kind of descent where you can’t help but stop a few times just to breathe in the view.

A quick spin along the lake brought us to the climb on the opposite side, leading up to the Three Borders Stone – the spot where Austria, Switzerland, and Italy meet. From there, we followed the Dreiländer Trail, a natural ribbon of singletrack winding through open meadows all the way to the Green Lake for a short refreshment stop. Then it was on to the Black Lake, before dropping into the Kreuzmoos Trail – a more crafted line packed with berms, flow, and that smooth, grippy dirt that puts a smile on your face, all the way down to Nauders.
We wrapped up the day with a cozy evening at Hotel Central, chatting with local legend Harry Ploner – one of the true pioneers of mountain biking in Nauders – who shared a few stories and some solid tips for the days ahead.

From the lake, the climb started gently on a fire road before turning into a slightly more technical singletrack. It doesn’t take long before you feel completely remote. On the way up, we couldn’t resist a quick swim in one of the lakes we passed – the perfect cool-down before continuing along a flowing traverse with mind-blowing views. At this point, you really feel lost in nature, and the excitement builds for what everyone had told us about: the Uina Canyon.

After a short descent from the plateau, it felt like we’d hit a dead end, with a wall of rock rising in front of us and a small creek cutting through the middle. Following the trail, we reached a sign that tells you to walk your bike – the entrance to the canyon. The sound of the wind echoing between the cliffs added to the atmosphere, and soon we were holding onto handrails to edge along the narrow path. The experience was unlike anything else, and it’s impossible not to be impressed by the raw power of nature.
We passed through small tunnels, crossed paths with riders pushing up in the opposite direction and finally reached a massive bench – the perfect spot to rest, let the adrenaline settle, and get ready to roll again. The final descent to Scuol follows an easy fire road, great for spinning the legs and adding a few more kilometers before climbing into the next valley. We ended the day in S-Charl, the last remote settlement of the route, where we spent the night surrounded by silence and mountains.

A beautiful morning had us full of energy for the day ahead. We were standing at the edge of civilization, surrounded only by nature. A long, peaceful valley stretched out in front of us – flowers, mountains, blue skies, and the occasional cow grazing in the distance.
After about an hour of steady climbing, we reached the Costainas Pass and dropped into a smooth, fast descent through the pine forest of Val Müstair, rolling all the way to the Ofen Pass where we stopped for a quick snack. Refueled, we enjoyed more flowing downhill before tackling a short climb up to the plateau above Livigno, continuing toward the Passo del Gallo. Once again, we couldn’t help but stop to take in the views and appreciate that feeling of being completely lost in the wild.

The next descent quickly became one of our favorite trails of the whole trip – wide, grassy and endless switchbacks you can roll through without stress, mixed with fun bursts of speed as you drop down toward the river. From the narrow canyon at the bottom, we followed the river through a stunning valley that opened up step by step, revealing two large lakes and finally the Val Fraele Refugio – our home for the night – truly in the middle of nowhere.

A morning rain shower passed over the mountains, so we stayed at the refugio, sipping extra Italian coffees and petting the local animals while we waited for it to clear. It was a slow, relaxed start to the day, the kind that feels like a small gift in the middle of an adventure.
When the rain finally stopped, we rolled toward the end of Cancano Lake. From there, a ten-kilometer climb awaited us, leading to the Bocchetta di Pedenolo at 2703 meters. The ascent is famous for its countless hairpins, maybe 40 in total. It is steep but fully rideable, especially on our Patron bikes. Most of it follows a beautiful trail, although a few sections have cliffs on the side that demand a bit more focus. From the pass, we continued along a north-facing traverse, a fun mix of gentle ups and downs on singletrack. A few snow patches remained, and we couldn’t resist a quick snowball fight before reaching the Bocchetta di Forcola at 2766 meters. At eight meters higher than the Stelvio Pass, it felt like the perfect late-morning reward high in the mountains.
Once the hardest part of the day was behind us, we dropped into a four-kilometer flowy hiking trail toward the Umbrail Pass, then went full gas on the road for the last four kilometers of the Stelvio Pass. Climbing at 20 kilometers per hour with big smiles on our faces, we passed a few road cyclists grinding their way up, all of us happy to be so close to the summit.

After the quiet of the morning, arriving at the Stelvio felt like stepping into another world. Suddenly there were cars, motorbikes, tourists, restaurants, souvenir stands, and bars everywhere. We refueled with a late-lunch pizza or pasta, depending on the mood, and rested for a while. We had to wait until 4 pm before accessing our final trail of the day.
The Goldsee Trail is one of the most iconic hikes in the region and an incredible experience on a bike. To allow everyone to enjoy it safely, it is open to riders before 9 am or after 4 pm. The path follows the east side of the Swiss–Italian border and offers a breathtaking panorama of the Ortler, rising to 3905 meters with its massive glaciers. It is a 13-kilometer alpine trail with 1,000 meters of elevation, mixing smooth, flowing sections with more technical terrain through rock fields, narrow passages, and exposed parts rated S2 to S3. In some sections, we had to push our bikes, but that’s all part of the adventure, and we still had plenty of daylight.
Two hours later, we reached our final stop for the night: the Obere Stilfser Alm at 2,100 meters, tucked away with no road access and surrounded by wide fields dotted with cows. The local food was delicious, and we didn’t stay up too late after dinner. We had a little project planned for the next morning.

The alarm rang at 5 am, and honestly, there was no better way to start the final day than with a sunrise mission. We wanted to soak in the early light, capture a few photos, and return to the mountain hut for a well-earned big breakfast. Moments like this are priceless, the kind that stay with you for a lifetime.
Riding our bikes through that peaceful pre-dawn glow, then sitting together and watching the sun rise while the landscape slowly revealed itself in soft yellow light, filled us with the perfect energy for the day. It was impossible not to feel grateful. The final descent into the woods was pure joy. Our legs and arms were tired from the previous days, but we still had huge smiles on our faces. Every section felt like a small gift.

Once we reached the valley floor, we followed the cycling path through the Vinschgau Valley toward our starting point. There was no rush, no need for speed. With the help of our Bosch motors, all we had to do was spin our legs and talk about the incredible adventure we had lived over the past few days. The 15 kilometers from Glorenza back to the car passed so quickly that we almost wished they were longer, just to spend more time together and make the trip last.