Forty-eight numbered hairpins climb the northern ramp to 2,757 metres in a stack so orderly it looks like a diagram. Top Gear once called it the world's greatest driving road, which guaranteed you'd never have it to yourself. Go at dawn, midweek, outside August, and beware the one day each summer — usually late August — when the pass closes to cars entirely for thousands of cyclists. Bratwurst at the summit is tradition.
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