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.