Blog Note: Sorry this was not posted last night. The Internet connection at the hotel had crawled to a stand still. I’ll try to post it on Sunday during one of my layovers.
Stage six (Saturday) of our cycling adventure in Italy was, in California terms, pretty gnarly. Because of the number of people in the bike “camp”, three ride groups were once again formed. At about 8:24, my group left the hotel and headed east into the rising sun. The first town we came to was Forte. Like many towns in this part of Italy, it has an old section and a new. We went through a piece of the old and were able to glance at its baroque period church. Perched high on a hill with a long set of wide stone stairs leading to its front, the walls of the yellow stone church seemed to glow in the early morning light.
What was different about this ride from the very beginning was that we had to share the road with lots of other cyclists. Italy’s food culture is based on olive oil and pasta and it’s national pastime has to be cycling. We couldn’t go a kilometer without seeing at least one cyclist, if not an entire term. At one point, we passed the national Pinarello term all kitted-up in their blue, orange and white kits. No time to count as we rode by, but we all guessed there must have been about 40 of them. I learned later that the team competes in the Italian national GranFondo.
The first part of the ride was fairly flat. After maybe 35 km we stop for espresso and pastries. After all, we’ll need nourishment for the climb ahead. It may not be universal, but I sense there is a common bond among cyclists; riding and coffee shops go together.
After the stop, we start the climb of a medium sized mountain. By comparison to the rest of the week, this one was pretty easy. After five days of riding, I was fortunate enough to still have some climbing legs. Up and over the top we go. On the desent, we decided to take a new route for everyone, including our guide: road 19. It was basically a farm road about as wide as a Volkswagen beetle. We had some speed going down and I was close to the back of the group. Suddenly, I heard the familiar cry, or in this case, scream of “car up”. I immediately look up. Hell, it was no car, but a massive corn harvester complete with trailing truck. It’s giant V shaped blades heading right for us. I’ve never seen bikers jump off their bikes and onto the side of the road so fast in my life. We literally had to move into the trees to let the two vehicles pass.
Back down in the valley, we head for Asolo. We rode toward the medieval center of town on a one-way street which enters on one side of town and then exists on the other. It’s so narrow, that there are traffic lights on either side to control cars (and bikes). You have to wait until all the cars are through town before the light turns so you can proceed. Over more cobblestone and brick paved roads.
As we get ready to leave Asolo and head back to the hotel, we are given two choices; the flatter road with more cars or the steeper road with fewer cars. We choose the steeper road. What we didn’t know is that the road of choice ran between huge ivy covered walls and climbed a grade I’m estimating to be 12-14%. It’s amazingly beautiful, but there is no dancing on the peddles, rather just grunting it out and hoping you don’t fall over.
As we got closer to Borso de Grappa and our hotel, reality began to set in. This would be my last ride in Italy. Did I really have to pack up my bike for the trip back to California? Yes, but surprisingly for me, one of the highlights of the entire trip awaited later in the afternoon. Stay tuned.
No comments:
Post a Comment