It’s not just the weather that feels like a gamble either – Umbria isn’t exactly a globally renowned mountain biking hotspot. The other people waiting out the downpour under the eaves of the church, a group of elderly Germans, are perhaps more typical of the tourists who usually come to the region. It’s best known for wine, food and St Francis of Assisi, and coaches are a more common means of transport than full-suspension bikes. Of course the reason we’re here is that we’ve heard there’s another side to Umbria. But will we find the kind of trails we’re after?

On that first day riding out of Spoleto, as the rain abates, we’re unsure. Our guides are three Italian guys in their 40s who are clearly more into cross country and road riding than the sort of enduro itinerary we’re after. They’re excellent guides – super-friendly and knowledgeable and they ride ridiculously well. Despite the age difference, they leave us for dust on the climbs. But although the route we go on is incredibly pretty – taking us along a converted railway line, over several viaducts and down one of the famous strada bianchi or white roads that are typical of this region – it’s only the very last section that involves any sort of singletrack.

Everywhere we stay has a secure lock-up, a bike wash and – perhaps best of all – staff who won’t bat an eyelid when you come in covered in grime. One night the lovely woman who owns the Villa Pascolo goes one step further, coming out and switching her car’s headlights on so we can see the bike wash better when it’s dark. But just because it’s well set up for cyclists in general, it doesn’t necessarily mean Umbria is a mecca for mountain bikers.

On the second day however, we get a sense of the potential of the area. Our guide for the day is Lorenzo Ballarini, a sponsored downhill rider who’s only recently made the switch to enduro racing. He’s built like a roadie, tall and thin, but has an easy natural style and a great whip on him. He and Cal soon strike up a rapport, pushing each other on every spot we find.

Lorenzo leads us to his local bike park, Parco Batteria, where the dig crew have started to realise the potential of the incredible mountain landscapes Umbria offers. I say started, because it’s the rawest feeling bike park I’ve ever been to. Forget about carefully manicured trails, sculpted berms or north shore features – these are essentially trails hacked through the woods. They’ve cut the branches away and made a trail map, but that’s about it.

If a day with Lorenzo has given us a taste for Umbrian mountain biking, then it’s our final day that seals the deal. Our guide doesn’t look like your typical enduro rider – he’s dressed in lycra and riding a 29-inch hardtail – but looks can be deceiving. It turns out Andrea can pretty much outride us all. We set off on a stunning climb up a leaf-strewn path which winds upwards through the woods.

When we make it up above the treeline, we’re treated to incredible views across the valleys and out to the Adriatic coast beyond. Apart from two couples hiking, there’s not another soul around and it’s hard not to lose yourself in the beauty of it all. Or it would be, if the technical nature of the ascent wasn’t taking up all my time and energy. Andrea, fit as a fiddle, cruises up as if there’s no gradient at all.

“We’re served Coratella, a local dish involving liver, kidney and brains…”

One of the best things about mountain biking in Umbria is there’s no such thing as ‘grabbing a quick sandwich’. This is Italy after all, food is not something that can be dashed off quickly. The lunches, the dinners and the trays of antipasti, which appear as if by magic with your post-ride pint, have all been amazing. But our final lunch in the Monte Cucco National Park is particularly special. As well as antipasti and two pasta courses, we’re served Coratella, a local dish involving liver, kidney and brains. It might not sound like the most appetising combination, but in the hands of these chefs it’s genuinely delicious.

Over lunch we’re introduced to Mirko Berardi, who explains that the mountain we’ve been riding around the outside of is actually better known for what’s inside. Beneath the trails lies a vast network of caves. It’s nine kilometres deep at its deepest point, and extends for 30km underground. The ceiling of the largest room – 250,000 cubic metres in size – is 60 metres from the floor.

To cap it all off, the descent down from the top of Monte Cucco to the village of Costacciaro at its base is one of those trails that leaves you grinning from ear-to-ear. Starting off on stone-strewn paths, it then dips into the woods for a long, loamy section that has all of us whooping as we go. A quick pedal along a road takes us back into the woods for a long, final section of stony single track which spits us out into the village at the bottom. It’s basically dark for most of the final section, and it takes a fair bit of concentration to see where you’re going. We’re exhausted but exhilarated, high fiving each other as we pedal down the cobbled streets and park up outside a café.

It’s only when passers-by stop to greet him that we realise Andrea, the man who’s been our softly spoken guide all day, is in fact a big cheese around these parts. He’s the mayor of Costacciaro, no less. He’s also, he tells us proudly, the holder of the second-fastest ever time down the descent we’ve just done.

If Andrea is something of a dark horse, then the same could be said of the region he calls home. Yes, Umbria is very well set up for cruisey, hybrid bike riders. And yes, there are more roadies here than there are mountain bikers. But while there might not be much of a ‘scene’, we’ve met some incredibly talented riders, and ridden some insanely good trails. Not only that, we’ve had them all to ourselves. Umbria is everything you might expect, but there’s another side to this region and these mountains too. Just make sure you get there before the secret gets out.