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.