Last summer, the quiet Alpine town of Tirano transformed into something special. For a few sun-drenched months, the pop-up store of Los Angeles’ own Team Dream Bicycling Team set up shop here — a slice of Californian cycling culture dropped right at the doorstep of some of Italy’s most legendary passes.

For us at HUNT, it was more than just a collaboration. It was an invitation. An excuse to slow down, soak in mountain air, and reconnect with the roots of what pulled us all onto two wheels in the first place: the pure, unfiltered experience of the ride.

 

One morning, with coffee still lingering on our breath, we clipped in and pointed our wheels toward the peaks that have carved cycling folklore into the landscape — Mortirolo and Gavia. These names aren’t just printed on race maps or Strava segments; they’re etched into the history books of the Giro d’Italia.

The Mortirolo is known as one of the most brutal ascents in professional cycling — a climb that doesn’t flatter you, it strips you down. In 1994, it was here that a young Marco Pantani danced away from the peloton, writing his name into legend with an attack so fierce and fluid it still echoes through the trees. Just one rider, a steel frame, and the raw power of self-belief.

And the Gavia — dramatic, remote, and merciless. In 1988, it turned a simple stage into an all-out battle for survival when a snowstorm engulfed the climb mid-race. Riders finished caked in ice, wrapped in bin bags, barely recognizable as athletes. That day, Andy Hampsten defied the weather, the altitude, and the odds wrapped in more than courage and a pair of clear-lensed Oakleys, — taking the maglia rosa and etching his name in cycling history.

Riding these passes today, long after the crowds, the pink banners, and the TV helicopters are gone, the ghosts of those heroic days still whisper through every hairpin.

But beyond the numbers, the legends, and the lactic acid, there’s something deeper these mountains offer: silence. A kind of moving meditation. When the gradient bites and the chatter in your head falls away, you're left with only the sound of your breath, the rhythm of your heart, and the ever-steady hum of rubber on tarmac. The pain fades into background noise, replaced by a sense of clarity that only mountains seem able to provide.

Our time in Tirano was about more than supporting friends at Team Dream. It was about chasing the kind of rides that remind us why we design, test, and obsess over every detail at HUNT. Because no wind tunnel or computer simulation can replicate what it feels like to ride through history, on roads that have shaped champions and broken hearts in equal measure.

So this summer, pack your kit, tune your bike, and give yourself the gift of getting lost — or maybe even found — in the high Alps. The passes are still there. Waiting.