In 2001, we spent Paul’s first sabbatical in Italy (5 weeks total). Below is the third in a series of three recaps he wrote about our trip.

The Italian Biking Update (plus Giro d’Italia 2001)

[written by Paul, edited by Kathy]

Biking in Italy is a close second in popularity to football (soccer). And you can guess how popular football is in Europe. Kids playing pick-up games on a Piazza in Venice demonstrate better ball-handling skills than college players in the USA do. Biking is everywhere in Tuscany and Lucca. Bikes are ridden by racers, commuters, weekend warriors, kids, adults and the old folks going into the local village for afternoon coffee. Even the 70-year-old cleaning lady rides her bike to the vacationer’s villa at the end of a two-mile long dirt road. Every serious rider here (and there are a LOT) seems to have all the essential and color-coordinated equipment/clothes and owns a Bianchi, Tomassini, Colnago, Daccordi, or Coppi. I have only seen one US Postal jersey and/or bike here and a few Cannondale frames. Neighborhood shops dangle the latest and greatest De Rosa frame from five-pound test lines in the window. Biking is an Italian passion and both the young and old are inspired to ride. The afternoon siesta seems like a time specifically invented for bike riders.

Bikers in Italy are very much respected and admired. Even though there may be a shoulder along a road, the notoriously impatient Italian drivers are not bothered by having to swerve around a bike occupying ½ of the lane. On a weekend day, groups and individual riders dominate the landscape. During our first weekend here, an amateur race went up our mountain. Hundreds of locals lined the streets on this rainy Sunday to cheer. Five motorcycles cleared the roadway for this group of 50 riders and the 8 team cars that followed. Since I did not recognize any of the teams, I am guessing that these were “minor league” pros. But what a fantastic turnout by the locals of Malmantile! During the following weekend, another group of cyclists attacked our mountain. Lacking a support motorcade, this ride was probably a local benefit.

Biking in earnest began in week two, initiated by my wife. We had seen many a gorgeous bike. Colnago was clearly the frame of choice, so there was plenty of eye candy to admire as we drove around Tuscany. As we were climbing the mountain up to our villa and passing yet another Colnago Dream, I commented on how expensive they were in the USA. I could not believe how many Italians owned them. Kathy reminded me how strong the US dollar was and asked, do you think they cheaper in Italy? Why not take one back as a momento? What an awesome idea! Shouldn’t we stop Colnago man and ask where to get one? Sure.

Colnago man #1 directed us to a tiny shop in Montelupo where Colnagos were rented and sold. Upon visiting the store, we found that they did not have any, but did sell Daccordi, a frame that can be custom built to match my dimensions. Unfortunately, he spoke no English, and our Italian was not good enough to ask technical questions about the bikes or how to rent a bike. But the Daccordi was gorgeous and had Carbon-fiber chain and seat stays integrated onto an Aluminum frame.

While taking my parents to the Pisa airport the next morning, I serendipitously noticed a shop in Vinci with a HUGE Daccordi sign on the roof and a big “we rent bikes” sign in the window. A quick search on the Internet revealed this as the Daccordi factory! Frames are built on the second floor and sold on the first. My visit the following day was most interesting. The owner’s wife, Marilene, spoke English. She explained the types of frames they made: Al, C-fiber, steel, or any combination. After much discussion about my riding style, weight, and riding plans, it was concluded that the best frame for me was an Aluminum frame with Carbon-fiber forks and seat stays. Daccordi is one of a few companies that integrates Carbon parts onto the Altec2 frame. I figured that buying the frame was risky, but a minimal risk. Since the size was custom, it will be comfortable. The risk was the ride. I like the stiffness of Aluminum, and maybe the Carbon parts would reduce road noise.

After some meticulous measurements of almost every part of my body, the numbers were entered into a computer that calculated my frame size and a few minutes later I had a test spin on an adjustable bike! It was official! The frame would be ready June 8th for me to take home! A rental Daccordi was provided for my use over the next month. I even met three riders from Team Selle Italia (sponsored by Daccordi), who happened into the shop in preparation for the Giro d’Italia.

Once the rental bike was adjusted and brought home to our villa, riding in Italy began. Since the villa was at the top of a mountain, each ride began with a descent and ended with a climb. I took it easy the first couple of rides. I was even passed by Team Selle Italia while flatted in Lastra A Signa. I rode every other day, getting my riding legs back.

The villa we transferred to for weeks 3-5 of our stay was in Valgiano, halfway up a mountain overlooking Lucca. The riding was absolutely awesome here. From the villa, I rode along the side of the mountain through vineyards and olive gardens, passing through St. Andrea in Carpal, Toforri, and into Collodi. From there the climbing into Villa Bassilica and Pizzorne began. The air was so clean, and there was no traffic as you ascended 1200m vertically. It took almost an hour to climb, finishing in a pine forest. The little towns along the way were so charming. They have a central water source (mountain water) that is the social center of the town. The locals were nice and polite. To get places in Italy, you go by town signs, not street signs, polar degrees, or N/S/E/W. So I continually had to stop and ask people directions in broken Italian. Dov’e Collodi? Every person politely corrected my pronunciation, then pointed and directed me in Italian. Sempe diritte et cinque kilometer a destre. Grazie. Prego. Without their help, I never would have found Pizzorne.

Another example of Italian hospitality came on my first ride in Valgiano. A wrong turn sent me down the mountain instead of along the rim. I did not realize my mistake until I looked at the map. On the way back up the mountain, I passed numerous riders. Near the top I encountered a rider on a Carbon-fiber Colnago. As I passed this rider, I heard the infamous “ching ching” sound of a downshift. Out of the saddle and onto my wheel he went. Ahhhh, a little Italian attitude! I was content to continue at my pace, so Colnago man #2 came along my side, pointed at my ugly Daccordi rental and said “Daccordi, Molto Bene!” Ahh. This coming from a Colnago man. How nice.

Further down the road, I encountered the second flat of the day and was cursing and patching my original tube when a man on a C-fiber-Look tried to communicate with me about my predicament. Although Italian and English did not work, I communicated my predicament using gestures and sighing. He told me he lives ½ km away in Collodi and out came his spare tube and a CO2 Cartridge. I thanked him, accepted the tube, offered money, but he declined. In Texas, we’d say, “Y’all Italians are damn nice.”

But the real treat for me came a few days later when I realized that the Giro d’Italia was running from Montecatini Terme (between Lucca and Florence) to Abetone on May 27. Of course I wanted to go, and inquired with the Villa owner how to get information on the start time and route. Monica was so sweet. She contacted her uncle in Lucca and arranged for me to ride with his cycling club from Lucca to Abetone (the first major climb of the tour). It would be about 80 km each way and the climb to Abetone was a vertical ascent of 1400m. Was I interested? Of course! The only trouble was that I was supposed to meet his club at 8:45am sharp at the supermarket along the road. I arrived at 8:35 and waited. At 8:47, a group of men in their 50s and 60s stopped. Adiamo Abetone! Did they know Monica? Si, Si, Si. Adiamo, Abetone! So away we went, at a slow pace of 16 mph on the flats. Eventually, we were passed by a group of 30 cyclists who were going much faster. I later found out that this was the real club, but I did not join them for fear of insulting the man I thought was Monica’s uncle! Oh well, none of the riders spoke English any better than I spoke Italian, but pace lines are language-independent and it was nice to ride with a group. We encountered so many riders along the way. Everyone was on his or her way to see the race.

The streets of Abetone were lined with people on both sides when I arrived at the base of the mountain and started climbing two hours prior to the start of the race 70-km away. I rode to the top, dreaming about the racing triple on my bike at home and cursing the 54/22 combination that I was pushing up the mountain. I ascended alone, leaving behind my geriatric club members. I then came back down about 1/3 of the mountain to a section of the road where 3 separate stretches of road were visible. The roads that ascend mountains in Italy tend to turn back on themselves every 50 m, permitting one to stand on the outside edge of a road and see the riders climb for a couple of turns. Abetone is only a 5% grade rising 1400 m above sea level. It is gentle by tour standards.

The fan fare started 1.5 hours prior to the arrival of the bikers. The Carabinieri escorted 50-100 cars up the mountain. Each car was a tour sponsor of some kind and had cute and comical advertisements on the car. Picture in your mind 50-100 variations of the Oscar Mayer Weiner car going by! One van had a six pack of yogurt on top. Each container was the size of a large garbage can. Another was the world’s largest ice cream sandwich, and giant version of what Nestle sells in every corner coffee bar. One by one, they went up the narrow mountain pass, honking and flashing. Next came the official Giro d’Italia gear cars, stopping to sell pink T-shirts, watches, bandanas, and other merchandise essential to supporting the race. Finally came more Carabinieri escorting VIPs. Oh yeah, and the riders came an hour later, already fractured by the mountain. One group of 12 had broken away, followed by SAG vehicles. Slowly but surely, eight more groups of riders and support vehicles went by. The crowd cheered loudly for Cippolini and Pantani. Although Jan Ulrich was cheered, most people routed for the Italians. Eight minutes later, the last rider ascended to Abetone, alone. Clearly a crash victim, his muscles stretched the gauze that adorned them. The crowd also cheered for him. He showed little interest in their applause.

With the last of the Giro gone, I mounted my rental, descended Abetone, and headed for home. After 10 miles, I hooked up with a small group of riders, forming a pace line and reducing my time to get home. The Giro d’Italia was an unforgettable experience.