This year, the Design & Innovation Award took us to Alta Badia in the Dolomites for the very first time – the perfect location to discover something new. Stunning landscapes, friendly locals and new opportunities. Our author even discovered a new side to himself, squeezing into lycra to try his first ever gravel ride.

There are phases in life where we feel like we’re not growing much, merely coasting along in familiar routines and habits. As comforting and important as those phases are, at some point, enough is enough. Suddenly, everything starts to feel sluggish and monotonous – been there, done that; seen it all. Luckily, life is also full of different times: phases when everything shifts, and the cards are reshuffled. In those moments, with a bit of luck and wisdom, we can quite literally learn to see things in a new light. And it’s in one of those phases that this story begins.
Embarking on a New Adventure
Alta Badia, Dolomites. A new place, a new hotel, and a fresh perspective. Once a year, our 41 Publishing team – about 20 of us – heads to the Dolomites for a Tour de Force. For the Design & Innovation Award, we test the most exciting new bikes, components, and gear. Naturally, there’s plenty of riding, tinkering, and geeking out in the hunt for the year’s most compelling innovations. For seven years, we made St. Vigil our basecamp, exploring its trails and conquering its peaks until they became as familiar as the backs of our hands. But this time, everything is different.




Hotel Melodia del Bosco is our new base in Alta Badia. During the summer months, it’s a true bike hotel, complete with its own workshop, garage, washing service, and amazing food: homemade energy bars, healthy dishes, and traditional Ladin specialities. You can really feel the connection to the Ladin culture here, reflected in little details throughout the hotel. Even the sugar packets in the rooms carry a special touch, with the Ladin greeting “Bëgnodüs” – Welcome.
Hotel owner Klaus Irsara sets the tone for our time here with a few thoughts that will stay with us in the days to come: “What you see in the mountains depends on your legs and your eyes. Every time you’re out there, it’s different – your legs, the weather… It’s never the same. In the mountains, not everything is available 24/7.”
The Challenge: Gravel Biking with the Pros
Our daily routine starts early. The first rays of sunlight bathe the Dolomites in a soft glow as we gear up for the day’s test rides. Today, I’m facing what might be the biggest challenge of this trip: I, a die-hard mountain biker, have somehow been roped into joining a gravel ride with the pros. Yes, gravel. Those sleek, delicate machines with skinny tires that sit somewhere between road bikes and off-roaders – kind of both, but not fully either.
My nerves? Off the charts. The gravel bike, clipless pedals, skin-tight Lycra – this is all new territory for me. And the rest of the team? Merciless. With mock seriousness, they pat me on the shoulder: “You’ll be fine… Have you got someone we should call just in case?” I get it. It’s all in good fun, a lovingly staged attempt to pull me over to the “good side of the force”. But still, looking around at the average thigh circumference in the group, my heart sinks just a little.



With pinching bib shorts and a sense of dread, I find myself standing there with the unfamiliar gravel bike between my legs. Too late to turn back now, so I think: Alright then, let’s see what you’ve got, you delicate thing. Luckily for me, the gravel ride kicks off sunnier and more relaxed than expected – with a lift ride, since we’re technically here to explore new territory, after all. I start to loosen up a little.
The lifts in Badia first take us up to the mid-station, where we check out the start of a wildlife-themed educational trail for kids, known as Tru di tiers. The chainsaw sculptures scattered along the route will pop up throughout our time in these mountains – we formed quite a close bond with a wooden marmot. Further up, we reach the Heiligkreuz pilgrimage church, where we pause for a moment. According to legend, white birds carried bloodstained wood chips from the original construction site to this location, marking it as the final spot for the church.



The conditions quickly take a turn. Thick clouds roll in, rain starts to fall, and soon we’re trudging through snowfields one moment and mud the next. Nature has a mind of its own – just like Klaus warned us back at the hotel: “You can’t consume the mountains like a product. In the mountains, sometimes you have to turn back because there’s snow or the path ends. That’s good for us – it reminds us that not everything is always available.” Exactly. Things don’t always go as planned.
When the clipless pedals force one of the gravel pros into a muddy rescue operation, I can’t help but feel a tiny flicker of schadenfreude. “You’ll be fine,” I whisper to my comrade with mock seriousness as I ride past. And so, despite the less-than-ideal weather and a flat tire, we laugh and joke our way through almost the entire ride.



Learning to See Anew
I have to admit, the charm of the gravel bike is starting to win me over. Not because it’s easier – quite the opposite – but because it forces me to move differently, to think differently. Somehow, that fits the vibe of these days perfectly. Trails that I would normally bomb down in a straight line now demand a much more deliberate approach. In a way, it reflects Klaus’s philosophy: seeing the world as if it’s the first time. With wonder, with open eyes, and without assuming you already know what’s coming.
We ride on, past breathtaking landscapes, through lush meadows where cows lazily graze, not another soul in sight. The sun occasionally breaks through the clouds, painting the massif in a magical yellow-red glow. I can’t help but initially think of the default background of a certain computer operating system – which, let’s be honest, is a little concerning. It’s definitely time to refocus and see things with fresh eyes. Luckily, the scenery helps. You won’t find the overhyped, stock image icons of the Dolomites here. Instead, you’re treated to equally stunning landscapes without the usual crowds. Maybe that’s part of learning to see anew: shining a light on the untouched, less obvious corners of the world.



After a few hours of gravel riding, I can feel the exhaustion setting in, but with it a deep sense of satisfaction. It’s not just about racking up kilometres; it’s about experiencing the journey as a whole – the effort, the nature, the camaraderie. The journey is full of surprises: an unexpected view of the peaks here, or an oddly unsettling crucifix there – missing Christ’s body, but adorned with some of his organs. We take plenty of short stops to soak in the atmosphere, savour the moment and, of course, joke around to our hearts’ content.
Until Next Time

In the evening, we gather as a team at the hotel. The beauty of these days is that everyone has faced their own challenges, yet we all share the collective experience. We swap stories, laugh about the day’s adventures, and celebrate the victories, however big or small. It’s this mix of effort, adventure, and camaraderie that makes our time in Alta Badia so special. The sauna? Not happening tonight. Instead, the chef has prepared a fantastic menu packed with Ladin specialties to refuel our energy reserves – a perfect way to wrap up the day.
Alta Badia hasn’t just shown us new trails. Yes, fine… I’ll say it: Gravel riding is seriously awesome! But it has also reminded us of something fundamental: the mountains and landscapes are never the same. Every route, every place, every moment can be unique if we approach it with fresh eyes. This year wasn’t just about product testing – it was about discovering the region, rekindling our curiosity, and soaking it all in. As for what we’ve experienced so far? Simply incredible. We can’t wait for what the next few years have in store!

Words: Jonny Grapentin Photos: Jan Richter