Tuesday, May 29, 2012
Saturday, May 26, 2012
The Alpes and other miracles
The Alpes and other miracles
As all of our intentions grew towards riding over the Alpes our minds were drawn to such questions as to weather and the passability of the Alpes pass. My own mind, which has actually rarely left it, was on Shanfu's ailing and repaired, warped and cracking, derailleur hanger. On a fine day out of some town in Italy along our route that no longer has any resemblance to the EuroVelo 8 route, her shifting once again became problematic and I saw that the repaired hanger was in fact cracking distressingly. The hopes of crossing the Alpes and in fact continuing on our trip now was squarely upon the shoulders of a miracle and the city of Torino providing it.
Let me say at the outset that Italy seems to hide their campgrounds, often with little or no signage, and pretty much always at the top of a lung busting hill. The hills offer striking views, but at the end of a cycling day and always dragging a trailer, these "beyond category" hills are never a welcome sight. Really exceptional views though.
We found the camp site which was on the land of a beautiful, hard to describe, villa. The next morning we struck out on foot to find a bicycle store or two to see if we could find the replacement part in question. We found a bicycle shop with a big friendly Bianchi flag waving in front of it and ventured in. He said that he didn't have that exact part but that the bicycle shop just a few storefronts down might have it. We found out soon after that the shops were related. The second shop did in fact have the part, and we of course looked at it dumbfounded and sure that it couldn't be true. We bought it anyway and without the Italian language skills to do so we tried to explain how he had just saved our trip, and said inexplicable things to him about Croatia and Montenegro. He smiled and didn't understand a word of it. No matter. We went on further to one more bicycle shop so that I could buy replacement cleats for my cycling shoes as mine looked like they had been thrown into a blender with badgers in it. They had, in fact. Also, new brake pads which were also less than reliable looking at that point. All in all we ended up finding everything that we needed. We went back to camp and I installed everything that could be installed and suddenly, after I guess hundreds and hundreds of miles, we were back in total working order. The Alpes were suddenly very much in our sights and the next day we hit the road.
We really liked Torino and even to the point of now feeling the need to go back, learning Italian and finding a place to live. Really really stupidly cool city.
Sent from my iPad
As all of our intentions grew towards riding over the Alpes our minds were drawn to such questions as to weather and the passability of the Alpes pass. My own mind, which has actually rarely left it, was on Shanfu's ailing and repaired, warped and cracking, derailleur hanger. On a fine day out of some town in Italy along our route that no longer has any resemblance to the EuroVelo 8 route, her shifting once again became problematic and I saw that the repaired hanger was in fact cracking distressingly. The hopes of crossing the Alpes and in fact continuing on our trip now was squarely upon the shoulders of a miracle and the city of Torino providing it.
Let me say at the outset that Italy seems to hide their campgrounds, often with little or no signage, and pretty much always at the top of a lung busting hill. The hills offer striking views, but at the end of a cycling day and always dragging a trailer, these "beyond category" hills are never a welcome sight. Really exceptional views though.
We found the camp site which was on the land of a beautiful, hard to describe, villa. The next morning we struck out on foot to find a bicycle store or two to see if we could find the replacement part in question. We found a bicycle shop with a big friendly Bianchi flag waving in front of it and ventured in. He said that he didn't have that exact part but that the bicycle shop just a few storefronts down might have it. We found out soon after that the shops were related. The second shop did in fact have the part, and we of course looked at it dumbfounded and sure that it couldn't be true. We bought it anyway and without the Italian language skills to do so we tried to explain how he had just saved our trip, and said inexplicable things to him about Croatia and Montenegro. He smiled and didn't understand a word of it. No matter. We went on further to one more bicycle shop so that I could buy replacement cleats for my cycling shoes as mine looked like they had been thrown into a blender with badgers in it. They had, in fact. Also, new brake pads which were also less than reliable looking at that point. All in all we ended up finding everything that we needed. We went back to camp and I installed everything that could be installed and suddenly, after I guess hundreds and hundreds of miles, we were back in total working order. The Alpes were suddenly very much in our sights and the next day we hit the road.
We really liked Torino and even to the point of now feeling the need to go back, learning Italian and finding a place to live. Really really stupidly cool city.
Sent from my iPad
Picture if you will
Picture if you will
After Torino and with healthy bicycles under us we rode our longest day yet of 81 miles to a seriously uphill campground that was terribly hard to find. It was a long hot day. Another interesting aspect of camping on our trip, in the not quite on season, is that pretty much everywhere we have been they have offered hot showers, wifi, stores and restaurants, and other desirable items, but not most of them, not during the not quite on season. Hot showers often, sometimes coffees, almost none of the rest of those desirable services. Then again, we almost always had the camping to ourselves....
The next day, yesterday, we rode up in to the Alpes. It was not, fortunately, quite as intensely difficult or steep as we imagined. It was steep, of course, but luckily not quite as steep as the Giro hill we rode. Though it it was interesting to note that this pass road has also been a Giro stage in the past. We had great weather and a friendly breeze, and it wasn't until we were up over the top and almost the France that a tinkling of rain began. We rode down into the French side and found easy camping not on a hill just in time, after setting up camp and taking hot showers, for the thunderstorm to hit.
This morning we had hot coffees and croissants at our camp. Next, on towards Barcelona.
Sent from my iPad
After Torino and with healthy bicycles under us we rode our longest day yet of 81 miles to a seriously uphill campground that was terribly hard to find. It was a long hot day. Another interesting aspect of camping on our trip, in the not quite on season, is that pretty much everywhere we have been they have offered hot showers, wifi, stores and restaurants, and other desirable items, but not most of them, not during the not quite on season. Hot showers often, sometimes coffees, almost none of the rest of those desirable services. Then again, we almost always had the camping to ourselves....
The next day, yesterday, we rode up in to the Alpes. It was not, fortunately, quite as intensely difficult or steep as we imagined. It was steep, of course, but luckily not quite as steep as the Giro hill we rode. Though it it was interesting to note that this pass road has also been a Giro stage in the past. We had great weather and a friendly breeze, and it wasn't until we were up over the top and almost the France that a tinkling of rain began. We rode down into the French side and found easy camping not on a hill just in time, after setting up camp and taking hot showers, for the thunderstorm to hit.
This morning we had hot coffees and croissants at our camp. Next, on towards Barcelona.
Sent from my iPad
Lately before now
Lately before now
I have had to leave a lot out on this wee blog, usually because so much happens of note, or because we don't have time to tap out words, and more often than that because we are putting in long days. Also, just as often, we don't have internet access. Hopefully I hit some highlights and some lowlights.
The Giro d'Italia stage that we saw was really an amazing event. It had a festival feel to it and being part of the crowd along the road and cheering the cyclists on was a lot of fun, despite it being cold, raining and us feeling on the verge of hypothermia. The side trip up around Cervinia for the stage was entirely worth the effort. Seeing other cyclists riding the same road that we had and wheezing, without trailers, made me feel like we had been crazy and a bit brave to do it with our towage. It wasn't until we were on our way back down the same road that I saw the gradient percentage signs of 15per cent. I wondered if they had taken the signs down on the uphill for the Giro so as not to demolish the racers spirits completely. On the way down it started to rain and just became more insistent as we rode. By the time we reached the camp we were soaked and it was just a matter of unblissfully setting up our tent, which was already soggy, and trying to keep every one of our belongings from becoming drenched. It rained and rained. We stayed in our tent almost the entire next day until the rain broke around dinner time. I read a book that day and moved on to another. It was not restful exactly, but it was a day of little movement. After that is when we headed on to Torino.
Sent from my iPad
I have had to leave a lot out on this wee blog, usually because so much happens of note, or because we don't have time to tap out words, and more often than that because we are putting in long days. Also, just as often, we don't have internet access. Hopefully I hit some highlights and some lowlights.
The Giro d'Italia stage that we saw was really an amazing event. It had a festival feel to it and being part of the crowd along the road and cheering the cyclists on was a lot of fun, despite it being cold, raining and us feeling on the verge of hypothermia. The side trip up around Cervinia for the stage was entirely worth the effort. Seeing other cyclists riding the same road that we had and wheezing, without trailers, made me feel like we had been crazy and a bit brave to do it with our towage. It wasn't until we were on our way back down the same road that I saw the gradient percentage signs of 15per cent. I wondered if they had taken the signs down on the uphill for the Giro so as not to demolish the racers spirits completely. On the way down it started to rain and just became more insistent as we rode. By the time we reached the camp we were soaked and it was just a matter of unblissfully setting up our tent, which was already soggy, and trying to keep every one of our belongings from becoming drenched. It rained and rained. We stayed in our tent almost the entire next day until the rain broke around dinner time. I read a book that day and moved on to another. It was not restful exactly, but it was a day of little movement. After that is when we headed on to Torino.
Sent from my iPad
Diet continued
Diet continued
I neglected to mention that we might as well have been sponsored by Gummi bear gummis (Das Original!) since we have each eaten our own body weight in gummis. We have also eaten more than our share of chocolat and marmalada croissants in the mornings along with manus tiny coffees.
Sent from my iPad
I neglected to mention that we might as well have been sponsored by Gummi bear gummis (Das Original!) since we have each eaten our own body weight in gummis. We have also eaten more than our share of chocolat and marmalada croissants in the mornings along with manus tiny coffees.
Sent from my iPad
Diet continued
Diet continued
I neglected to mention that we might as well have been sponsored by Gummi bear gummis (Das Original!) since we have each eaten our own body weight in gummis. We have also eaten more than our share of chocolat and marmalada croissants in the mornings along with manus tiny coffees.
Sent from my iPad
I neglected to mention that we might as well have been sponsored by Gummi bear gummis (Das Original!) since we have each eaten our own body weight in gummis. We have also eaten more than our share of chocolat and marmalada croissants in the mornings along with manus tiny coffees.
Sent from my iPad
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
Much rain and the Giro was better than expected.
Much rain and the Giro was better than expected.
Plus, apparently there was an earthquake that could have affected us. We're totally and entirely fine except for Shannon's bike which is once again failing. Can there be two hail Mary passes in one game? We are trying for a our second one tomorrow. If it fails we will be home much sooner than expected. More soon.
Sent from my iPad
Plus, apparently there was an earthquake that could have affected us. We're totally and entirely fine except for Shannon's bike which is once again failing. Can there be two hail Mary passes in one game? We are trying for a our second one tomorrow. If it fails we will be home much sooner than expected. More soon.
Sent from my iPad
Saturday, May 19, 2012
Friday, May 18, 2012
Diet
Diet
A note on our diet throughout this entire trip. Except for occasional forays in to local cuisines and restaurant eating, sometimes with dire and regrettable outcomes, we have kept to a very simple and possibly insane diet for the length and breadth of our trip, of bread, cheese and salami. We fortify our simple strikeforceawesome power-diet with snacks. M&M's and other chocolate delicacies. M&M's are great because they do not melt in intense sun and heat. Despite this obviously amazing culinary fare we are both losing some weight and Shannon, the suspected cyborg, has taken to calling me the Stick.
Sent from my iPad
A note on our diet throughout this entire trip. Except for occasional forays in to local cuisines and restaurant eating, sometimes with dire and regrettable outcomes, we have kept to a very simple and possibly insane diet for the length and breadth of our trip, of bread, cheese and salami. We fortify our simple strikeforceawesome power-diet with snacks. M&M's and other chocolate delicacies. M&M's are great because they do not melt in intense sun and heat. Despite this obviously amazing culinary fare we are both losing some weight and Shannon, the suspected cyborg, has taken to calling me the Stick.
Sent from my iPad
Chapter Too
Chapter Too
It was after the horrorshow day of blood loss and heat wave, right when, once again, I was certain that I couldn't take it anymore, we hit some beautiful riding on wide scenic roads with only intermittent traffic that was rarely scary. We also hit hills, but it all balanced out to a level of reason that we could take. We rode another longer day, all part of the quest to reach the Giro stage in time, and hit our longest day of the trip of 78 miles. We tended to reach the camps each night right around time to eat a quick dinner before it got dark and it was time to sleep. (A cautionary note. I would not care to hear from any other much more iron-thighed cycle friends who eat 78 mile riding days for breakfast. I don't need to be illuminated as to how not hardcore I am. Telling me so would be useless and redundant since I already am well aware of this fact. Let me just say that I am very happy for you that you can ride circles around me while I huff puff and sweat, but also that I will definitively never ever go on a long distance cycle tour with you.) When we reached the camp one of the campeteers asked us when we intended to leave in the morning. I didn't know how to take that question but it turned out he was asking because there was going to be a party down the way and it was going to be loud. Ah Europe. We told him that it would likely not be a problem because of our general exhaustion and it turned out that it wasn't. The party was loud, we slept like exhausted babies.
Shannon's bicycle is still in an unwell state. We stop occasionally so that I can tweak it and keep it shifting, but it is at best a nuisance, and more than unexceptional. Despite that she has peddled along like a super human strikeforce champion and I have become suspicious that she is actually a very human passable cyborg gladiator hybrid. For this I am thankful. Though on the mountain stage on the way up to our present camp I did believe on several occasions that she intended to snap me like a brittle twig and toss me in to the scenic brush along the road for making her undertake this entirely selfish segment of the journey. She may still. I am presently trying to be nice, which we all know does not come naturally to me. As it is now the weather here went from sunny and warm to a sprinkle of snow on our tent last night to rain this morning to cold all day. The forecast is not improving for the stage tomorrow which is even more unfortunate for the racing cyclists than it is for us. Unless of course we get stuck here because of snow tomorrow and for the foreseeable future.
I believe that is mostly all I meant to ramble at this point. There will certainly be more to come as we retrace our steps back down the mountain on the 20th and then start on our way towards and over the Alps in to France and on to Spain. The point is that we made it, the epic Cannonball Run to watch the Giro and tomorrow we will do just that. I expect it will be entirely worth it.
Photos to follow of the Giro and other events. Unless they are canceled due to weather.
Sent from my iPad
It was after the horrorshow day of blood loss and heat wave, right when, once again, I was certain that I couldn't take it anymore, we hit some beautiful riding on wide scenic roads with only intermittent traffic that was rarely scary. We also hit hills, but it all balanced out to a level of reason that we could take. We rode another longer day, all part of the quest to reach the Giro stage in time, and hit our longest day of the trip of 78 miles. We tended to reach the camps each night right around time to eat a quick dinner before it got dark and it was time to sleep. (A cautionary note. I would not care to hear from any other much more iron-thighed cycle friends who eat 78 mile riding days for breakfast. I don't need to be illuminated as to how not hardcore I am. Telling me so would be useless and redundant since I already am well aware of this fact. Let me just say that I am very happy for you that you can ride circles around me while I huff puff and sweat, but also that I will definitively never ever go on a long distance cycle tour with you.) When we reached the camp one of the campeteers asked us when we intended to leave in the morning. I didn't know how to take that question but it turned out he was asking because there was going to be a party down the way and it was going to be loud. Ah Europe. We told him that it would likely not be a problem because of our general exhaustion and it turned out that it wasn't. The party was loud, we slept like exhausted babies.
Shannon's bicycle is still in an unwell state. We stop occasionally so that I can tweak it and keep it shifting, but it is at best a nuisance, and more than unexceptional. Despite that she has peddled along like a super human strikeforce champion and I have become suspicious that she is actually a very human passable cyborg gladiator hybrid. For this I am thankful. Though on the mountain stage on the way up to our present camp I did believe on several occasions that she intended to snap me like a brittle twig and toss me in to the scenic brush along the road for making her undertake this entirely selfish segment of the journey. She may still. I am presently trying to be nice, which we all know does not come naturally to me. As it is now the weather here went from sunny and warm to a sprinkle of snow on our tent last night to rain this morning to cold all day. The forecast is not improving for the stage tomorrow which is even more unfortunate for the racing cyclists than it is for us. Unless of course we get stuck here because of snow tomorrow and for the foreseeable future.
I believe that is mostly all I meant to ramble at this point. There will certainly be more to come as we retrace our steps back down the mountain on the 20th and then start on our way towards and over the Alps in to France and on to Spain. The point is that we made it, the epic Cannonball Run to watch the Giro and tomorrow we will do just that. I expect it will be entirely worth it.
Photos to follow of the Giro and other events. Unless they are canceled due to weather.
Sent from my iPad
Temper tantrums, cannonball run Italia and dubious travel decisions
Temper tantrums, cannonball run Italia and dubious travel decisions
Sometimes decisions are based upon other decisions and hopes on hopes. We based our crossing of Italy on the infamous Burt Reynolds movie of the 70's or early 80's, The Cannonball Run. I am just assuming Burt Reynolds was in that movie because of its total and entire awesomeness. We also based our crossing of Italy not so much on enjoyment as on the quest to view a single stage of the Giro d'Italia bicycle race. It just happened that the mountain stage that would be unquestionably perfect to view was on the opposite side of the country from us and meant we would have to basically bury ourselves to get there, riding through some of the most unpleasant terrain of our entire trip. Not hard for it's hilly qualities, but entirely because of the lack of quality aesthetics and also constant and harrowing traffic. It also meant that, you know, we would have to ride up a mountain stage of the infamously hard Giro d'Italia, with trailers, after burying ourselves riding long miles, (to us) along terrible routes through maybe the least attractive part of all Italy. Picture a frontage road of never ending giant stores, gas stations, tire stores and oil refineries. Okay, stop picturing it because that is an awful thing to picture, also an awful thing to ride along. Especially in hot hot heat. Yes, we caught no breaks. Emm, except that it didn't rain.
The unendurably wonderful Katie Leum once asked us, at a cafe in Croatia, exactly how many times we had broken down in tears on the trip, based on another friend's trying bicycle travels. At the time we answered that no tears had been shed in sadness, though maybe a few in rage. After one exceptionally hot awful day of riding with non stop traffic through towns that looked like the worst parts of America, we found the hide and seek camping area we sought. We'd ridden 74 miles, were hot and sore, and faced a locked gate that protected the creepiest campground we'd nearly ever collectively seen. Exhausted, we cared little if our organs were harvested during the night. We just wanted to shower and get some sleep first. We eventually were allowed inside the gate, opened by a disembodied voice over an intercom. Inside the gate was more unnerving than the outside. There were abandoned looking camper vans, cars also that looked like they hadn't moved in eons, and even bicycles that looked like they had been dropped mid pedal. Possibly the cyclist was darted while riding and the bicycles were left as jaunty lawn ornaments giving the appearance of light hearted play. They didn't fulfill that hope. The road to a hoped for office was long and my shins were suddenly on fire with stinging. I killed two or three mosquitoes in a swat as we passed one religious shrine after another....
The Bob trailers can tend to have a mind of their own, especially when one is tired, exhausted, in pain, and being attacked by mosquitos in plague proportions. My trailer dropped from one side to the other as I tried to protect myself from losing too much blood. The camp owner walked up just as I was kicking things, throwing my helmet and swearing. Shannon explained to her helpfully, "long day...". The woman let us camp there regardless of my behavior which somehow didn't improve. I picked up and hurled my bicycle and trailer, right before kicking my helmet one last time for good useless measure. Then we set up the tent. Immediately following that we got into the tent which was then covered by really fast, hyper intelligent and hungry mosquitos. As I sat there looking them back in the eye through the thin mesh of the tent, pondering my fate if I ventured out, I watched as the most enormous tick I'd ever seen also crawled up the tent, also smelling my rare breed of perfectly exquisite blood. That was when I once again found humor.
Another chapter to follow. I apologize for the length of this installment.
Sent from my iPad
Sometimes decisions are based upon other decisions and hopes on hopes. We based our crossing of Italy on the infamous Burt Reynolds movie of the 70's or early 80's, The Cannonball Run. I am just assuming Burt Reynolds was in that movie because of its total and entire awesomeness. We also based our crossing of Italy not so much on enjoyment as on the quest to view a single stage of the Giro d'Italia bicycle race. It just happened that the mountain stage that would be unquestionably perfect to view was on the opposite side of the country from us and meant we would have to basically bury ourselves to get there, riding through some of the most unpleasant terrain of our entire trip. Not hard for it's hilly qualities, but entirely because of the lack of quality aesthetics and also constant and harrowing traffic. It also meant that, you know, we would have to ride up a mountain stage of the infamously hard Giro d'Italia, with trailers, after burying ourselves riding long miles, (to us) along terrible routes through maybe the least attractive part of all Italy. Picture a frontage road of never ending giant stores, gas stations, tire stores and oil refineries. Okay, stop picturing it because that is an awful thing to picture, also an awful thing to ride along. Especially in hot hot heat. Yes, we caught no breaks. Emm, except that it didn't rain.
The unendurably wonderful Katie Leum once asked us, at a cafe in Croatia, exactly how many times we had broken down in tears on the trip, based on another friend's trying bicycle travels. At the time we answered that no tears had been shed in sadness, though maybe a few in rage. After one exceptionally hot awful day of riding with non stop traffic through towns that looked like the worst parts of America, we found the hide and seek camping area we sought. We'd ridden 74 miles, were hot and sore, and faced a locked gate that protected the creepiest campground we'd nearly ever collectively seen. Exhausted, we cared little if our organs were harvested during the night. We just wanted to shower and get some sleep first. We eventually were allowed inside the gate, opened by a disembodied voice over an intercom. Inside the gate was more unnerving than the outside. There were abandoned looking camper vans, cars also that looked like they hadn't moved in eons, and even bicycles that looked like they had been dropped mid pedal. Possibly the cyclist was darted while riding and the bicycles were left as jaunty lawn ornaments giving the appearance of light hearted play. They didn't fulfill that hope. The road to a hoped for office was long and my shins were suddenly on fire with stinging. I killed two or three mosquitoes in a swat as we passed one religious shrine after another....
The Bob trailers can tend to have a mind of their own, especially when one is tired, exhausted, in pain, and being attacked by mosquitos in plague proportions. My trailer dropped from one side to the other as I tried to protect myself from losing too much blood. The camp owner walked up just as I was kicking things, throwing my helmet and swearing. Shannon explained to her helpfully, "long day...". The woman let us camp there regardless of my behavior which somehow didn't improve. I picked up and hurled my bicycle and trailer, right before kicking my helmet one last time for good useless measure. Then we set up the tent. Immediately following that we got into the tent which was then covered by really fast, hyper intelligent and hungry mosquitos. As I sat there looking them back in the eye through the thin mesh of the tent, pondering my fate if I ventured out, I watched as the most enormous tick I'd ever seen also crawled up the tent, also smelling my rare breed of perfectly exquisite blood. That was when I once again found humor.
Another chapter to follow. I apologize for the length of this installment.
Sent from my iPad
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)