Montello by motorbike – history and silence among the woods of the Piave

There are days you don’t have to cross half of Italy to feel like you’re somewhere else. Just get on, point your motorbike north-east and slip into the cool shadows of Montello, the unusual, mystery-charged hill that emerges suddenly from the Treviso plain like an island of green in a sea of vineyards. 

 For those of us who love maxienduro and light off-road, Montello is a goldmine of surprises. Gentle curves, dirt roads that caress your tires, deep silences and a past that still resonates beneath the skin of those who know how to listen. 

A single day, but a full one – Montello takes you that way 

For my motorbike tour on Montello, I start from Nervesa della Battaglia, a name (Nervesa of the Battle) that already prepares you for the atmosphere. Here the war dug trenches and left scars that are still open in the land and in memory. The motorbike hums peacefully along the main road, but I already know that I won’t just be following the asphalt today. 

I stop for a moment in front of the Military Memorial, imposing and austere, framed by cypress trees and silence. I take off my helmet, something I always do when I come this way. It’s an instinctive gesture, of respect. I think of the lads who fought up here, among mud and machine-gun fire, in 1918. 

On the Ridge – curves, quiet and green everywhere 

 I go up the Strada Panoramica, the famous Montello Ridge – a ribbon of asphalt that runs along the entire crest of the hill, cutting a thick, almost mysterious forest in two. There’s no traffic, the curves are wide, the surface is good – the maxienduro breezes on like a dream. 

Here you ride with a smile on your face. Every now and then, between one hairpin and another, you can catch glimpses of the plain – you see Treviso, the glistening Piave, and in the distance, if you’re lucky, the silhouettes of the Dolomites. But it’s not just the view that strikes you – it’s the scent of resin, of damp earth and of moss that accompanies you everywhere. 

Prese and trails – the kingdom of maxienduro 

Twenty numbered roads, called Prese, cut across Montello. Some are asphalted, others are dirt, and some are practically hidden by vegetation. This is where it starts to get good. I take Presa XV and head into the woods. The dirt road is perfect, compact, with a few stones here and there, but nothing too demanding – suspension working, tires gripping, and me breathing hard inside my helmet. I arrive at the Tavaran Grando Cave, a natural cavity that opens in the heart of the forest like the door to another world. I turn off the motorbike, park it on the edge of the road and walk along the path, through the vegetation. Italian soldiers took refuge here during the First World War, and the war left a deep mark here.   

The atmosphere is unreal – beneath the rocky vault, time seems to have stopped. I stop for a moment to listen to the silence. No one around, just the rustling of the trees, the breath of the forest and some distant chirping. I continue on foot before entering a secondary section, marked by a faded old sign – Bunker Trail. It’s a little-traveled path, hidden among ferns and roots. 

I walk for a few minutes with my helmet in hand, while the concrete structures begin to appear among the trees, walkways, gun emplacements, shelters dug into the earth. Many are now half-engulfed by vegetation, but the atmosphere is still dense, intense. I feel as if I can hear the voices, the whispered commands, the quick steps in the mud and the distant echo of an era that here, among these trees, has never really gone away. 

Wild, almost unspoiled nature 

This too is the beauty of a motorbike tour on Montello – it takes you outside time. Even though it’s close to the urbanized plain, as soon as you enter you feel like you’re in another world. The forest is alive – there are fallow deer, wild boars, badgers, even foxes. In some sections, especially between Presa XII and XVI, the vegetation closes above you like a green tunnel. The sun’s rays filter through the branches; the light changes; it feels like riding in a haunted forest. I love these moments. The motorbike moves slowly, my heart slows, and I feel tiny but part of everything. 

Food break – the authentic taste of the land 

When the time makes it necessary and my stomach starts to rumble, I leave the woods and go down the Presa Cesare Battisti, one of the most evocative in Montello. Here, immersed in fields, vineyards and old farmhouses, there’s a rustic farmhouse I know well. There’s no sign, no menu, just a porch, wooden tables and the scent of barbecue that welcomes you even before the managers can greet you with a smile. 

I park the motorbike under a large mulberry tree and sit in the shade. Today the special is handmade gnocchi, prepared with local stone-ground flours, seasoned simply with melted butter and sage from the courtyard. A dish that tastes like home, that tastes like time. I accompany them with thickly sliced salami and sopressa, fresh cheese with a drizzle of oil, mushrooms picked in the woods that morning, wood-fired bread and a glass of prosecco as sparkling as the October air is crisp. 

The manager is one of us, a motorcycle rider with a passion for knobby tires and forgotten roads. We talk about suspensions, old rally bikes, trips made and dreams yet to become reality. But it always ends there – talking about Montello, about the people who live there, about the trails that only people who truly love it can find. It’s a simple, but intense break. One of those breaks that put you at peace with the day and with the taste of things made with hands and heart. 

Final kilometers among forgotten prese 

In the afternoon I head west, into an even wilder area of Montello. Here I find little-traveled trails, perfect for a bit of easy enduro, without forcing the pace. The terrain changes: it becomes sandier, rougher, dug out by the rain. I park my motorbike not far from the remains of the Abbey of Sant’Eustachio, a place suspended in time, where the stones tell stories of monks, pilgrims and soldiers. I walk among the ruins in silence, helmet in hand, trying to imagine what this place was like centuries ago, and what it saw during the darkest days of World War I. 

Finally, I return to Nervesa. The bike is dusty, my thoughts clean. Montello isn’t epic like the Dolomites, it doesn’t have the views of the Apennines, but it has something that remains. It’s the perfect place for those who love to ride slow, get their tires dirty on easy dirt roads, and breathe history. It’s a place that speaks to you. You just have to be willing to listen. 

Recommended stops for a motorbike tour on Montello: 

• Military Memorial 
• Montello Ridge 
• Tavaran Grando Cave 
• Bunker Trail 
• Abbey of Sant’Eustachio