Wednesday, September 10, 2008

September 10 Epilogue

It has now been 3 days since returning to my real life. Enough time to post a few final reflections.

The return bus trip from Alleghe to Verona was relatively quiet. I presume most were a bit saddened that the week was so abruptly completed. A bit of a shock to get out of the bus in the industrial park neighborhood of the West Point Hotel. We did, though, eventually manage to taxi into Verona for one final best Italian meals of the trip. The proscuto con meloni (sp?) with fig was extraordinarily good. Mark from Chicago, an accomplished foodie, insisted that the waiter bring out the 'good' balsamic vinegar, and when dripped on the fig, I wanted to savor every molecule of taste for as long as possible. However, others at the table were already moving into their pasta course and, if nothing else, the Dolomites taught me that I am certainly not one to be left behind.

As I was abruptly forced back into reality on Monday morning there were many questions from local non-cyclists. Or maybe not the completely non-cyclists, but those that could not fathom why I would ever consider the past week in Italy as a holiday. I mean, all that talk of suffering. I consider this a very legitimate question and one whose answer is not easily described. Firstly, I explain that there is a difference between pain and suffering. When Mark from Chicago crashed in a corner of one of the descents it was painful. When I climb from switch to switch it is not painful, but rather suffering at the upper levels of the possibility scale. I've pondered the question and come up with nothing that is explainable to the uninitiated. I do not claim to understand the draw that the suffering on a bicycle offers but maybe it's simply the sense of physical accomplishment. The achievement of reaching the summit of these Dolomiti passes is concrete. It is certainly not at all about how fast you arrive at the summit, but rather that you arrive at all. Upon cresting, the achievement is not vague or misunderstood. It is right in front of you as you summit. Either you completed the climb or you did not. And maybe that in itself is all there is to understand...

And finally, many who read the blog asked about the numerous references to the 50/34 or 25 or 23. For those readers interested check this link http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bicycle_gearing

The trip was all about the superlatives, nothing mediocre, best cappucino, best gelato, best figs, best meal, best climb, best suffering, best friends, all the very best. The blog was an enjoyable effort to chronicle the adventure and to share what I could share.

The compact crank is already off the bike and back in the box, waiting for the next big mountain adventure. It's a bit anticlimatic getting on the bike here in the relative flatlands of Connecticut at elevation 800 ft. The suffering will be familiar, the scenery will again be familiar, but my knowledge and cycling core is forever changed...

Happy trails.

Friday, September 5, 2008

September 05

It's happened. The dream is over. We awoke today to an appropriately overcast sky, more threatening than most. The "B" group left about 9am, planned "A" group departure +/-9:30am. At 9:25am the sky opened and it rained harder than any day of the trip. Andy called the B group back and we would regroup throughout the morning. 11am, still raining too hard, noon, and a bit of brightening, so off to pasta for lunch and 2pm ride. By 2pm the sun was shining. A vaguely organized ride with Andy to the Marmolada. But, Marcella the guide had ridden the Marmolada (the east side of the Fedia) on the rest day and had suggested that he would rather throw his bike from the road than ride the "widow maker" again. Bill and I, along with Ian from Windsor CA, opted for a ride to the Passo Falzerego. A perfectly manageable ride with just shy of 4,000 feet of climbing. Please note how "merely" 4,000 feet of climbing has so easily slipped into to page. This was a great pass to finish the week on, again mostly 8 - 12% climbs with accelerating moments in the 34/23 and 21 and I had good legs. Topped the summit with the obligatory cappuccino and then one final decent. 25K (10 or 11 miles) of fantastic final descent. The Parlee was in it's element carving the final turns chasing some red BMW down the mountain. The last moments were certainly bittersweet, hanging outside the bike garage at the hotel, not wanting to quit the week or the dream. I must have stood with the bike between my legs for half an hour. It was over. We had climbed 42,000 feet vertical and probably a bit over 200 (or 300) miles horizontal, maybe more, in the past 7 days. In retrospect, my imagination was completely inadequate to have considered the scale of the week. I am satisfied. The itch has been scratched.

Now, what about bon jour to the Alps next year?

Ciao.

Thursday, September 4, 2008

Sep 4. Quattro passo

OK. Yesterday was the rest day. Just like the grand tours we cyclistos need a rest day. But, following the rest day is to be the hardest day of the tour. I'll give the stats up top. In order, Passo Campolongo, Passo Gardena, Passo Sella and Passo Pordoi. 8,750 feet vertical, 65 miles horizontal and +5 hours in the saddle. This was another fantastico day. The weather was variable, cold and windy at the tops of the passes, which made the cappucino taste that much better. Maybe not the best cappucino ever, but certainly very close. As we climb the passes we dress in straight kit, jersey and shorts, but at the summits we change quickly into whatever we can find, knee and arm warmers, hats, long fingered gloves, windbreaker, etc. because the descents are long and the tops are cold. Today at the summits we sought shelter behind whatever wind breaks we could find. But, this was all part of the 100% climbing the Dolomites. No other way would be expected. The mountains surrounding these climbs are stark, Mars comes to mind, but intensely beautiful. The climbs are tough and long, mostly 5 - 6 miles at 8 - 12%, Heidi's instruction to look up a bit more difficult, but the descents provide an opportunity, if taken, to better marvel at where I am. I am desperately trying to soak all of this experience into my memory. The tops of the passes have become a bit bittersweet, relief to have completed the climb combined with sadness that I have completed the climb. As much fun as the descents are, and they are a blast, it is more difficult to leave the summits this day. Today was hard, without any doubt, maybe not the hardest, but quite possibly. Back to the hotel, dragged myself to my room on the first floor, please, no stairs, just the elevator, and lay on the bed completely spent. I don't think that I napped as much as passed out for 20 minutes. Unbelievably, I awoke with an immediate craving for gelato. Showered and headed for the gelateria, where I met John the guide, thankfully he was equally spent. And the gelato, you guessed, the best ever!

Tomorrow I will complete this adventure. It seems so long ago that we exited the bus at the base of the Stelvio. We'll likely cross the 40,000 feet of climbing sometime tomorrow, thats about 7 or so miles straight up. I'll work on a better analogy later.

Ciao for now.

Wednesday, September 3, 2008

Sept 02, A beautiful day in the Dolomites

Today would be two minor passes in glorious weather, Passo Staulanza and the historic Passo Duran where many years the Giro crosses, minor is only relevant when the comparison is to the Stelvio, though. Staulanza was a pass in much the same character as Monday's, many in your face 10 - 12% sections. Passo Duran was quite different though, even charming, if you can use this description for a 20K climb with extended sections of 12 - 14%. The climb starts with a right turn into a small village off of the descent. We continue to climb on this remarkably narrow one lane road, the first third through more villages. When I can, I'm wondering "what do these people do in these villages?", there doesn't seem to be any commerce. Actually, not much time to think as the pitch stiffens and heads up into the forest. The road remains one lane, at best, but with very little traffic. The views through the trees of the jagged peaks is fantastico. This climb heads from switch to switch, much more to my liking. I only have to concentrate on getting to the next switch, which because of the steep pitch, is not too far, then it's on to the next switch. All I have is to do this for as many switches as it takes. But that is a bit of a dilema. I don't know how many switches it is to the top. 34/25 and standing 23. I have been riding this climb with John from Florence, one of Andy's tour guides. John rides what appears to be a classic commuter bike, but with a 34/27, no clips and straight handlebars. With about a quarter of the climb to go I am a few meters ahead of John. I hear him behind me speaking to someone in Italian. At this point, at the very most, I might be able to utter a ciao, on the outbreath, certainly not more. John comes along side me, he is speaking to his wife on the phone. More intimidation? No. The climb finishes. We all gather at the summit cafe to gather ourselves and put on the descent clothing: arm warmers, knee warmers and vest. Today was a beautiful day in the Dolomites. Thursday will be a bit of an epic day, 115K and four passes. Tomorrow a rest day, and well needed.

Stats: 6,501 vertical, about 45 miles horizontal.

Ciao for now

Monday, September 1, 2008

September 1

Today we moved from Bormio to Allegehe. On the bus, pouring rain as we left Bormio. After about 3 hours we again eventually pull onto the side of the road, somewhere in Italy, and Andy says, "this is it, get your bikes and dressed". We head up the Passo de Costalongo, allegedly a minor pass, about 25K of 8 - 12% climbs. Today's climbs are of the relentless sort. You come around a corner and the climb just lays out ahead of you, you try not to look up because it's disheartening, keep your head down, although Heidi keeps reminding me to look up, but nevertheless I peak, ugh. These climbs might be considered easier, I do not, they are of the hard sort (see the Stelvio post), but they are not nearly as interesting as the Stelvio's brutishness or the Gavia's intimacy. Eventually we stop for lunch at the top of the climb, under extremely threatening skies. The direction we're heading the sky is the gnarly layers of mountain grey to black. However, behind us a bit of blue, and for me, I am assured that it won't rain. Except for 10 - 20 drops, it does not rain. The Passo Fedia is similar to the mornings climbs, relentless. Bill and I ride in the almost fast group, which includes the two of us, so we're mostly inbetween, which is ok. The last section of climb I am seriously wondering why I'm doing this, and I'm desperately looking for the 34/27, again. On the suffering scale the judges give this a 6.8 out of a perfect 7.0. And, as we are approaching the top of the climb Andy comes noodling past, whistling...effing whistling. I couldn't catch the tune because all I really could hear was my labored, mehodical breathing. Oh well, just a bit of intimidation by our host. We stop at the cafe at the top, every summit seems to have a cafe, and Andy springs for cappucinos. No exageration, this was the best cappucino that I have ever ever had. Then a 15K downhill (50mph, until it gives me a scare and I back it off) to the most sublime hotel alongside some unknown lake at the base of the most dramatic jagged peaks that you cannot imagine. I am beat, for today. Tomorrow I won't remember any of the suffering, all I'll remember is the perfect cappucino.

Todays stats...6,500 ft vertical, 45 miles horizontal and about 3.75 hours in the saddle. I think we're now over 20,000 ft vertical. Two more passes on the agenda for tomorrow. I've scheduled a massage for tomorrow evening. Bill suggests that it's not a masseuse that I need but a therapist.

And I haven't mentioned the tunnels in previous posts. Before Saturday I did not know that you need to see the ground to be able to maintain your sense of balance on a bike. Many of the tunnels are pitch black with curves midway. You can figure the rest.

Ciao for now.

Sunday, August 31, 2008

The best day on a bike, ever!

Today we climbed the Gavia from Bormio. Although I knew this would be a special day, I didn't really know how very special. This was the first day that we would all leave together as a group. During breakfast Bill and I wondered how the group dynamic might evolve. We decided that we probably didn't want to be in the front group. As everyone starts rolling out of the hotel I'm hanging about as the first group leaves and look around for Bill, he's left with the lead group. Oh well, arrivederci Bill. I rode most of the way to St Caterina, about 10K or so at a fairly constant 10% grade by myself and not minding. In St Caterina I turn right at the sign for Passo Gavia. As I head up the climb, un-numbered switchbacks abound, I start picking up riders from the front group. The initial portion of the climb is in the forest, probably 7 - 10% grades, the road is not nearly as maintained as that on the Stelvio so you have be a bit more aware. The switchbacks are numbered on both sides of the Stelvio so you always have a sense of how much of the climb remains. The Gavia is un-numbered and unknown. I picked up and passed a few more riders and came upon two Italian fellows who had joined our group for the ride, one of which was the day's photographer. I tucked in behind these two and luxuriated in the being where I was, on the climb up the Gavia with two riders babbling away in Italian. This was all I wanted and in the moment it was sublime. Coming around a switch the Italian babbling abruptly ended. I knew that when these two stopped chatting we were into the worst (best?). From this omen I presumed that there were some stiff sections ahead, and indeed there were. The last portions of the real climb, maybe 3k or more, were very consistent at 14%. Here I live in the 34/25, still searching for the 27 that I don't have. As I learned, the expression is "polishing the lever", in other words, constantly looking with your finger for the next easier gear. These sections of the climb are the type where I've always seemed to have the discussion with myself about whether to just stop. It's easy, with so much suffering, just stop, pull over. However, I always work my way through the conversation, continue suffering and soon I am at the top of the climb, the internal discussion fades and then disappears. We are now well above the tree line and the last 2k is a relatively flat 5% which traverses the ridge. Now with the climbing behind me, and time to look about, the scenery is just shake your head awesome, and at the summit a lake, no less. We arrive at the top of the pass where the sag wagon is waiting. More handshakes among the finishers. A feeling of quality accomplished. It is cool at the top of the Gavia so we change into some dry clothes and head to the small restaurant, with posters of Andy's heroic climb 20 years ago plastered on the walls, to have an expresso. Soon Andy assembles the group to tell THE STORY. Standing at the edge of the parking lot with the lake and jagged Dolomites as a backdrop he proceeds to tell the story of his climb up and over the Gavia in the 1988 Giro. And Andy is a wonderful story teller. Having told the story so many times he does not miss a detail, and we are at the summit where the story all took place, no snow, but none the less poignent. Shivers on the back of my neck and nearly a tear or two. The privledge acknowledgement looms large, AGAIN. The 1988 Giro actually climbed the otherside of the Gavia and descended what we had just climbed. (For details of Andy's race you can google 'Hampsten Gavia'.) Andy invited those that were interested to descend the 'otherside' and climb back up his historic route. Although very tempting, after the mornings climb I decided to forego the opportunity, although did descend a few K's to the newly built tunnel before climbing back to the summit. The 'otherside' of the Gavia is unique to itself. The road is much narrower, my guess, 7 - 8 feet, in disrepair, and with stone roadside guides every 10 meters or so that merely hints of the very steep drop-offs. This was the Giro alive for me. You hear the encouraging voices of the tifosi and can feel the intertwined history of the race and the Gavia. Fantastico Fantastico Fantastico. Any way, back to the top of the Gavia, gather up some other cyclistos and head for the descent. The descent is not nearly as predictable as that of the Stelvio. Decidedly more caution is required. But, from St Caterina to Bormio, the icing on today's cake. Very smooth road with 50 mph corners for what seemed an eternity. Steve from Tulsa and I just let it fly and when we finally reached the outskirts of Bormio I pull up along Steve, thinking to myself that this was the best day I have ever had on a bike. As I approached, the first thing Steve says is, "This is the best day I've ever had on a bike". Molto belli, it wasn't me, we were there.

Today was about 4,500 feet of climbing. Three days now we've ridden probably no more than 75 - 90 miles, but have climbed more than 13,000 feet. And two more passes tomorrow.

Living the dream, Ciao for now.

Saturday, August 30, 2008

Stelvio Day 2008

Back from our ride up the 'easier' side of the Stelvio from Bormio. Todays lesson. There are not easier anything when you are cycling these mountains. There is hard and harder and the hardest effing thing you've ever done. Today was hard and portions were harder. It's all mostly about the suffering in extraordinarily beautiful environments. Why else would 5,000 people on bicycles climb to the top of the Stelvio. This was madness. So many cyclistos with so many Italian bikes that I've never heard the name of before. Peach tarts and warm sweet tea served by local cycling clubs along the climbs. The summit was a swarm of old young men women who had ridden their bicycles to the highest pass in Italy. Fantastico. If this is not the heart of cycling then it is certainly the soul. The stats...5,600 feet of climbing in 20K. It's obviously not about the horizontal. And the descending today. No cars coming up the mountain means that I can pretend to my heart's desire about cutting the tangent and powering out of the corner, someone from Telecom on my wheel. Like I said, in moments I can have a large imagination. Tomorrow we climb the Gavia. The pass made famous by Andy Hampsten's heroic Giro exploits in 1988. Do the math, this is the 20th anniversary. Tomorrow will be especially memorable at the top of the pass, where we will have a picnic celebration. Again, back to the privledge thoughts, the sun seems to shine on my shoulders.

Just a few incidentals...Fitz, you made a mistake that may haunt you forever. Bidet's make great washer basins for used sweaty crusty cycling kit. The weather has been magnifico, this morning not a cloud in the sky with warm, but not hot temperatures. Early in the morning from our balcony we can watch the crags of the Dolomites slowly enlightened by the sun.

Ciao for now.

August 30

OK. I missed a day or two. So back to our first day in Verona, Thursday. Andy Hampsten helped me assemble the bike and Bill borrowed a bike, his rental (Colagno) would arrive on Friday, and off we headed into Italy. Wheels down. Fantastico, a term I will use often. The area around Verona is relatively rolling, so the riding was sublime. Small villages, Many many vineyards. Stopped for an expresso in a small village square. This was certainly as I imagined it. Back after a couple hours of easy spinning, with a couple town line sprints. It was joyful. Later in the evening we had a magnificent dinner at the Restaurant 12 Apostles, followed by Verdi,s Rigoletto performed in Verona,s ancient colesium. All was perfectly Italian. This was the overture to yesterday (Friday).

Friday.
We awoke after a crummy nights sleep. Met with all of our group and the obligatory introductions from Andy then onto the bus for the 3 hour drive to the base of the Stelvio Pass. Just enough time to to contemplate every anxious thought that I could muster, and there were many. A veritable shopping list of anxieties. How hard would the climb be, what would the exertion be like at altitude, what about the 40 mph descent, did I actually do enough repeats on Baldwin Hill? You get the picture. Sweaty palms for the three hours, but beautiful scenery along the way. As the K's on the road signs to the Stelvio turn-off lessen the bus becomes more and more silent, presumably everyone checking their shopping lists. Finally we turn left off the road where the sign points to Stelvio Pass, pulled into a dirt parking area, Andy announces that we are here. Where? Get changed and head out. Where? Oh, where ever, behind the bush is fine. Which it was. Still thoroughly anxious, but once the bike was on the road and the saddle was under my butt it all just went away. We were here. This was it. All the training, 20 years worth, all the web visits, all the imagined scenes became reality. And this was real real real. For you who appreciate = 34/50...13/25. The verticality of the Dolomites is spectacular, not at all like our Rockies or the Alps, seeming much younger. The climb, 25K with 7,000 feet of vertical, forms in three parts. The first third is probably 5% or so and quite civilized, 34/21 or 23, the second third, in the Forest, stiffens quite a bit, probably up to 10% with some 12%, this is now all 34/25, and sometimes looking for the 27. Out of the Forest for the final third. We are now above tree line and the landscape is quite stark. If the effort does not take your breath then the look about will. This was now alternately sitting in the 25 and standing in the 23. And the switchbacks. 48 of them and all mercifully numbered. As you exit each switch there was a bit, maybe 10 meters of vaguely level or down gradient, and for this moment of holiday each switch was eagerly anticipated. To get out of the 30's, meaning to switch 29, seemed to take forever. But the last 2K, in which there were 9 switches, it did take forever, and the last 500 meters, all I had, standing in the 25. And I was totally spent at the top, as I would have it no other way. The top is an accumulation of small tourist shops with many people milling about. From watching too many mountain top finishes, as I approached I expected the roar of the crowd, but no one seemed to notice, except the chap who I had ridden up with. He understood and we traded a hearty hug. And the altitude? Didn't much notice. As I thought back on what I had just completed there was a moment of tearful sadness. What I had waited for so long, all the 15 years since the drive with Rebecca and Susannah over these same mountains, was complete. This was truly my imagination and an acknowledgement of the privledge that I had been given. To be a cyclisto and to climb the switchbacks of the Stelvio is like being at closing day of Yankee Stadium 2008. I do not exaggerate. And did I mention the descent down the other side of Stelvio into Bormio? OMG. The next angst was about to be crossed off. The Parlee just knew it's way around every switchback, this was absolute joy. Enter high finish inside. Weight planted on the outside pedal and fire the inside knee into the corner, just watch for the crazy German motorcyclists coming up the mountain. And the tunnels. Going from bright sunshine at 35 mph into pitch blackness. I expected cobwebs, this was like the Pirates of the Caribbean at Disneyworld. Certainly more fun than someone of my maturity should be exposed to. Zipped through town, arrived at the hotel with a very broad Italian smile.

Bill says: Hi guys, ditto what Cam said. It was an epic day and one of the most memorable of my life outside of my wedding day and the birth of my two girls. The mountains are like nothing I have ever seen. This is definitely worth all those miles up rt.317, Hard Hill and Hazel Plain. Ciao.

Saturday
It's now about 10am. Today is Stelvio Bike Fest. All roadways to the summit are closed to vehicles. Only open to cyclistos, all 6,000. We're about to head out. This day will be fun, stopping for refeshments along the way, served by regional bike clubs, who apparently try to outdo each other with their offerings.

CIAO for now.

Thursday, August 28, 2008

August 28 2008

We arrived in Verona a bit worse for wear and learned a few lessons about trying to fit too much into a 24 hour period. Lesson 1. Do not expect to sleep on the plane. Lesson 2. The Roman taxi drivers will rip you off. Lesson 3. Later.

Drips and draps of group showing up at hotel. It is all still an bit anxious making and will be greatly relieved when we reach the end of the day tomorrow after the first day in the saddle. Ciao bene and more later.

Monday, August 25, 2008

Prologue

This story starts some indeterminate time ago when I developed a noticeable obsession with suffering, I suppose the cycling followed. However, and more precisely, 15 years ago marks an event that can be directly connected to this summer’s Italian Adventure. Early July of 1993, I traveled from my then home in Warsaw, Poland to a small town near the City of Brindisi in Puglia, the “heel” of Italy with two of my three daughters, Rebecca, 7, and Susannah, 4. We traveled through the Austrian Alps and on into the Italian Dolomites. It was while driving up a since forgotten mountain pass with my bike strapped to the roof, passing cyclist after cyclist, that I started to feel the itch, an itch that has ebbed and flowed for all these years since. An itch that I finally get to scratch, with a little help from Andy Hampsten and Bill Ale.

Bill and I are just about out the door. The Parlee is packed away in its own traveling case and after nearly a year of planning and seemingly thousands of miles on the road, our appointment with the high mountains of northern Italy is nearly upon us. Final packing, bike preparation and deciding the angst of the day is occupying most the free time. Andy has sent us a packing list and, priding himself in old-school style, has suggested mostly wool-based wear for the cold days and descents. We prefer poly to wool. This time of the year it can snow on the upper elevations, remember the infamous 1988 Gavia stage in the Giro. He also suggested we bring front and rear lights for the tunnels. I am told the Gavia has a 1 km tunnel with a 7% pitch. That should be a fun time indeed!

Bill and I fly out of JFK tomorrow, 8/26/08 at 7:00pm and arrive in Rome on Wednesday morning at 10:00am. Our connecting flight to Verona doesn’t leave till 5:30pm and, hopefully having slept some on the flight over, and once through customs, we will slip into Rome for a tour of St Peter’s Basilica and some slow time at a cafĂ© on a piazza, our first cappuccino and biscotti. In an effort to overcome the effects of jet lag before hitting the climbs we plan to see the sites of Verona for a couple days before we meet the rest of Dolomiti Fest group, which is scheduled for Friday morning at 9:00am. As a bit of an indulgence and a quest for the pure Italian, we will be going to the Opera at the Forum in Verona on Thursday evening to see/hear Verdi’s Rigoletto. The remainder of the time in Verona is unplanned.

On Friday morning we meet the rest of our group at the Hotel West Point and following a brief orientation meeting, will be transported via vans to the base of the Stelvio Pass. Although our leader, Senor Hampsten, has been a bit vague as to the daily itinerary, the first day’s plan appears to be that after travelling north via van for 4 or so hours, we arrive at a small village on the south side of the Stelvio Pass, our ultimate destination Bormio being on the north side, we change in the shadow of the van and wheels down and head over the Pass, then descending the 48 hairpins into Bormio. Having not ridden since Monday, or at these altitudes, this will be an interesting introduction to Italian “soffrire”. The following day, Saturday, is Stelvio Day. From 8am to 4pm the three routes to the top of the mountain are all closed to vehicular traffic. Rumor has it that +6,000 cyclists show up for this annual event, “molto fresca”. This day will be pure fun, mixed with hopefully a small dose of suffering.

Excitement and nervous anticipation surrounds us as the days grow closer to our departure. Excitement: by far, this will likely be the trip of a lifetime! Nervousness: have we done the work required to deal with the physical demands it will take to climb the famous passes of the Giro D’Italia, what about the altitude, what about the descents, what if I forgot something? Oh well! Bring on these Dolomites and the fine Italian wine.