John Price
11-08-2012, 01:06 PM
Earlier I posted a link to my photos from L'Eroica.
Here is my write up of the ride itself (in multiple parts). Sorry upfront for being so darn wordy...
Shortly after leaving Florence we arrived in Gaiole. Gaiole is the tiny town that hosts the L’Eroica each year. The day before the ride is a swap meet where all sorts of cycling goodies can be found – vintage bikes, old components, books, wool jerseys, leather helmets… Actually, you could show up at the swap meet and buy everything you need to do the ride on Sunday. After wandering around the swap meet ogling all the cool stuff (poor Linda was bored to tears and getting hungry) we headed to the registration table. After picking up our registration packets we found a pizza place just up the way in the piazza. Going through the packet we soon discovered that they give you a lot for signing up – a nice vintage looking cloth bag with brass buttons, a stainless steel water bottle, coupon for a post ride dinner… neat.
Once the pizzas were finished we left Gaiole for Montegonzi (another tiny town roughly 10 miles away) where we would be staying for the next 2 days at the agriturismo Le Lappe. Agriturismos are basically farms and such that have been converted into bed and breakfasts. Following our directions we soon turned off the curving little paved road onto an even smaller, curving little gravel road (much like what Chad and I would be riding on tomorrow). As we followed this along the road got smaller, hillier, and more and more remote. Finally we found the gate and long drive to the top of the hill on which Le Lappe stood. WOW. Here stood a couple of beautiful, old stone buildings with red tile roofs just full of character. If you picture the most ideal small Italian villa you’ve pretty much got it. Olive trees and rose bushes were everywhere. A swimming pool sat off to one side with views overlooking the hills surrounding the property. This was truly a slice of Italian heaven.
Chad and I had originally thought that we’d ride from Le Lappe to Gaiole (only about 10 miles or so), that was before we actually drove on the road between Le Lappe and Gaiole. Steep, narrow, rough, gravely, and it’d be pitch dark for as early as we’d need to leave. Instead, we’d drive to Gaiole and just ride the ride (oh how happy we were to have made that decision at the end of the day). So, we got up at O’Dark early on Sunday morning, grabbed some tasty pastries and good coffee Chef Linda had waiting for us and headed down the road to Gaiole.
Arriving there, as early as it was (around 6am) the roads were already filling with cyclists heading to the starting line. We were guided to a good parking spot and soon had our bikes out and pedaling down the hill to the piazza to sign in. At the start/finish line riders are funneled through a control where 2 guys stamp and sign your control card. I’m guessing their job is to also inspect your bike to make sure it is fits in with the rules (1987 or older, down tube shifters, exposed brake cables, clips and straps…). However, I didn’t see either of them even glance up from the stamping and signing of cards. I guess technically I violated the rules as I built my bikes frameset well after 1987 but it’s a standard lugged steel frame and with the components I installed on it, it fit right in. In any case Chad and I were good to go and off we rode into the dark following the tail lights of fellow riders ahead of us. The ride leaves Gaiole on pavement heading down hill which is nice as it gives you a chance to warm up and acclimate yourself with your fellow riders before any strenuous riding begins.
As we came to intersections there were police and volunteers directing us which way to go (nice). Later we’d find that the route is marked with permanent signs and the only time we’d need to be worry about which way to go was at the point where the 135K route (ours) and the 205K route split at Piana.
Barely had we begun the ride when it looked like it might end for us. Within the first few miles Chad was having equipment troubles – his rear wheel was slipping in the dropouts and thus rubbing on the chainstay. We’d stop and tighten the quick release but then a few miles farther it would do it again. Not good. As tempting as it sounded to head back to Le Lappe and spend the day lazing about I really wanted to do the ride (but not without Chad) so we stopped and I took a good look at what was going on. Turned out the derailleur hanger was loose and sliding in the dropout. Didn’t matter how hard you clamped the wheel’s quick release, you were just clamping it to a moving piece of metal. Thankfully I was able to fix the issue with the little multi-tool I packed for the ride. Off we went and Chad had no more mechanical issues for the rest of the ride.
With the morning sky just starting to lighten, we started riding up the first section of “strada bianca” (literally “white road” – refers to the chalky gravel roads in the region that are primarily farming/agricultural roads) to Castello di Brolio . Tall trees lined each side of the road and luminaries were lit to mark the way, riders in woolens on vintage bikes surround us, the sounds of old gears humming, clicking, and voices in many languages close in on us as we all ride together up the hill. Up and up we ride, the sky lightening as morning dawns. The road steepens, levels out some, and then shoots off steep again. We eventually arrive at the top and many of us stop to take pictures and to take in our first real taste of L’Eroica. Excitement filled air now and you could see in the riders’ faces they were happy to be doing the ride and looking forward for more to come. After a pause and some photo taking we hit the road, onward.
The day was now upon us, off with jackets, time to enjoy the Tuscan sunshine. We rode through vineyards, and forests, from pavement to gravel and back again. For the first part of the ride many of groups of riders were close together. I felt good and at times I would leapfrog my through the groups and then fall back again as I’d slow to take in the scenery or struggle up another hill. Chad was having a harder time of it though. This was one of the rare occasions in which I was stronger than him on one of our rides (he is my junior by 11 years). Usually he can ride away from me at will, today the roles were reversed. Often times I’d be ahead of him on the road and find myself in the company of Italian or – interestingly enough – English riders. My Italian is woe-full so I mostly rode along just listening to them chatting away, laughing… At least with the English gents I could talk and joke with them. At one point I paced an Italian rider up to his group of friends (all wearing the same classic wool jerseys – a typical occurrence with the Italian riders I found). They let me sit in with them for a while and then with a “Ciao” they rode off, a good deal faster than me. Still, hanging with these young Italian bucks for a few miles boosted my ego some.
Mostly, I rode along with any of a number of riders. I’d ride along with someone until one of us would lose pace (typically on a hill, typically me) and then I’d hook up with another rider. I’d also stop at the tops of the climbs and wait for Chad (this also gave me good opportunities to take photos as well as catch my breath). We’d then ride together for a while asking how the other is doing until we separated again. While I was feeling stronger than Chad on the ride he would handily out-descend me on the gravel descents, disappearing around a curve. Only for me to catch up and ride past when the road turned upward.
After 48 kilometers (roughly 30 miles) we came to the first of the few “ristori” or rest stops/controls. We rode up a long, long hill to get here, entering the medieval village of Radi, riding right by the two watch towers. Just past the entrance to the village was the control table where 2 gentlemen sat and stamped and signed our cards (just like at the start of the ride back in Gaiole). Past them was a large canopy over several tables full of all kinds of food. There were pastries, breads topped with jams and Nutella, sandwiches of prosciutto and cheese, fruits, … And there were jugs of wine. Behind it all were friendly volunteers, some in regional outfits to serve us. I ate a few pastries and a couple of sandwiches (hey, they were small) and had a couple cups of wine – “When in Rome, er Radi…” (hey, they were small). It was here that Chad and I ran into a couple of Brits I had ridden with earlier – Paul and James (hope I’m remembering their names correctly). They had made it to the ristori but Paul was having mechanical troubles. Chad and I both had packed multi tools and soon we had Paul fixed up.
After filling our bellies we left Radi, onward to the next sections of strade bianche. While the paved roads were all beautifully maintained, the gravel roads varied in conditions. Most were quite good with hard packed chalky surfaces, others a bit rutted. But even the rutted ones usually had a couple of paths on either side that were fairly smooth. Here in Colorado a lot of the gravel gets pretty loose and deep in places. Not fun to ride into especially at the bottom of a hill. Training on Colorado roads really helped prepare us for these Italian gravel roads. What riding in Colorado didn’t prepare us for were the inclines of the roads. As nice as the pavement was, and as easy as the gravel was to ride on (comparatively speaking) I was not ready for the sheer, UNRELENTING steepness of almost every hill we had to ride up and down. And I don’t recall a time when we weren’t riding up or down a hill. I was told that some of the grades would be 15%. What I wasn’t told was that the rest were 16, 17, and 20%! AND to top it off the hills were HUGE! We’d climb, and climb, and climb some more. The road would start to level off (okay, from 18 down to 15%) and we’d think, “Finally, reaching the top” and then we’d round a curve and the road would shoot up again. Challenging and demoralizing were two words that came to describe it (depending on mood and miles ridden). I’m not ashamed to admit that I didn’t make it pedaling to the top of several of these hills and had to walk instead. However I was never alone, lots of riders walked up the steeper sections. I was in awe of those that were able to ride some of these monsters.
It was a beautiful day to ride in the Tuscan countryside. Warm sunshine, light breeze. As the day progressed riders strung out more but it was rare to ever be alone on the road. I passed many riders patching flats. Along the strade bianche to Asciano Chad and I came across the Brits Paul and James working on Paul’s bike at the side of the road. This time he had a cut sidewall on his tire and was looking like his ride might be done. Thankfully Chad had a foil energy bar wrapper and we were able to use it to boot the cut and get Paul back on the road again.
End Part 1.
John
Here is my write up of the ride itself (in multiple parts). Sorry upfront for being so darn wordy...
Shortly after leaving Florence we arrived in Gaiole. Gaiole is the tiny town that hosts the L’Eroica each year. The day before the ride is a swap meet where all sorts of cycling goodies can be found – vintage bikes, old components, books, wool jerseys, leather helmets… Actually, you could show up at the swap meet and buy everything you need to do the ride on Sunday. After wandering around the swap meet ogling all the cool stuff (poor Linda was bored to tears and getting hungry) we headed to the registration table. After picking up our registration packets we found a pizza place just up the way in the piazza. Going through the packet we soon discovered that they give you a lot for signing up – a nice vintage looking cloth bag with brass buttons, a stainless steel water bottle, coupon for a post ride dinner… neat.
Once the pizzas were finished we left Gaiole for Montegonzi (another tiny town roughly 10 miles away) where we would be staying for the next 2 days at the agriturismo Le Lappe. Agriturismos are basically farms and such that have been converted into bed and breakfasts. Following our directions we soon turned off the curving little paved road onto an even smaller, curving little gravel road (much like what Chad and I would be riding on tomorrow). As we followed this along the road got smaller, hillier, and more and more remote. Finally we found the gate and long drive to the top of the hill on which Le Lappe stood. WOW. Here stood a couple of beautiful, old stone buildings with red tile roofs just full of character. If you picture the most ideal small Italian villa you’ve pretty much got it. Olive trees and rose bushes were everywhere. A swimming pool sat off to one side with views overlooking the hills surrounding the property. This was truly a slice of Italian heaven.
Chad and I had originally thought that we’d ride from Le Lappe to Gaiole (only about 10 miles or so), that was before we actually drove on the road between Le Lappe and Gaiole. Steep, narrow, rough, gravely, and it’d be pitch dark for as early as we’d need to leave. Instead, we’d drive to Gaiole and just ride the ride (oh how happy we were to have made that decision at the end of the day). So, we got up at O’Dark early on Sunday morning, grabbed some tasty pastries and good coffee Chef Linda had waiting for us and headed down the road to Gaiole.
Arriving there, as early as it was (around 6am) the roads were already filling with cyclists heading to the starting line. We were guided to a good parking spot and soon had our bikes out and pedaling down the hill to the piazza to sign in. At the start/finish line riders are funneled through a control where 2 guys stamp and sign your control card. I’m guessing their job is to also inspect your bike to make sure it is fits in with the rules (1987 or older, down tube shifters, exposed brake cables, clips and straps…). However, I didn’t see either of them even glance up from the stamping and signing of cards. I guess technically I violated the rules as I built my bikes frameset well after 1987 but it’s a standard lugged steel frame and with the components I installed on it, it fit right in. In any case Chad and I were good to go and off we rode into the dark following the tail lights of fellow riders ahead of us. The ride leaves Gaiole on pavement heading down hill which is nice as it gives you a chance to warm up and acclimate yourself with your fellow riders before any strenuous riding begins.
As we came to intersections there were police and volunteers directing us which way to go (nice). Later we’d find that the route is marked with permanent signs and the only time we’d need to be worry about which way to go was at the point where the 135K route (ours) and the 205K route split at Piana.
Barely had we begun the ride when it looked like it might end for us. Within the first few miles Chad was having equipment troubles – his rear wheel was slipping in the dropouts and thus rubbing on the chainstay. We’d stop and tighten the quick release but then a few miles farther it would do it again. Not good. As tempting as it sounded to head back to Le Lappe and spend the day lazing about I really wanted to do the ride (but not without Chad) so we stopped and I took a good look at what was going on. Turned out the derailleur hanger was loose and sliding in the dropout. Didn’t matter how hard you clamped the wheel’s quick release, you were just clamping it to a moving piece of metal. Thankfully I was able to fix the issue with the little multi-tool I packed for the ride. Off we went and Chad had no more mechanical issues for the rest of the ride.
With the morning sky just starting to lighten, we started riding up the first section of “strada bianca” (literally “white road” – refers to the chalky gravel roads in the region that are primarily farming/agricultural roads) to Castello di Brolio . Tall trees lined each side of the road and luminaries were lit to mark the way, riders in woolens on vintage bikes surround us, the sounds of old gears humming, clicking, and voices in many languages close in on us as we all ride together up the hill. Up and up we ride, the sky lightening as morning dawns. The road steepens, levels out some, and then shoots off steep again. We eventually arrive at the top and many of us stop to take pictures and to take in our first real taste of L’Eroica. Excitement filled air now and you could see in the riders’ faces they were happy to be doing the ride and looking forward for more to come. After a pause and some photo taking we hit the road, onward.
The day was now upon us, off with jackets, time to enjoy the Tuscan sunshine. We rode through vineyards, and forests, from pavement to gravel and back again. For the first part of the ride many of groups of riders were close together. I felt good and at times I would leapfrog my through the groups and then fall back again as I’d slow to take in the scenery or struggle up another hill. Chad was having a harder time of it though. This was one of the rare occasions in which I was stronger than him on one of our rides (he is my junior by 11 years). Usually he can ride away from me at will, today the roles were reversed. Often times I’d be ahead of him on the road and find myself in the company of Italian or – interestingly enough – English riders. My Italian is woe-full so I mostly rode along just listening to them chatting away, laughing… At least with the English gents I could talk and joke with them. At one point I paced an Italian rider up to his group of friends (all wearing the same classic wool jerseys – a typical occurrence with the Italian riders I found). They let me sit in with them for a while and then with a “Ciao” they rode off, a good deal faster than me. Still, hanging with these young Italian bucks for a few miles boosted my ego some.
Mostly, I rode along with any of a number of riders. I’d ride along with someone until one of us would lose pace (typically on a hill, typically me) and then I’d hook up with another rider. I’d also stop at the tops of the climbs and wait for Chad (this also gave me good opportunities to take photos as well as catch my breath). We’d then ride together for a while asking how the other is doing until we separated again. While I was feeling stronger than Chad on the ride he would handily out-descend me on the gravel descents, disappearing around a curve. Only for me to catch up and ride past when the road turned upward.
After 48 kilometers (roughly 30 miles) we came to the first of the few “ristori” or rest stops/controls. We rode up a long, long hill to get here, entering the medieval village of Radi, riding right by the two watch towers. Just past the entrance to the village was the control table where 2 gentlemen sat and stamped and signed our cards (just like at the start of the ride back in Gaiole). Past them was a large canopy over several tables full of all kinds of food. There were pastries, breads topped with jams and Nutella, sandwiches of prosciutto and cheese, fruits, … And there were jugs of wine. Behind it all were friendly volunteers, some in regional outfits to serve us. I ate a few pastries and a couple of sandwiches (hey, they were small) and had a couple cups of wine – “When in Rome, er Radi…” (hey, they were small). It was here that Chad and I ran into a couple of Brits I had ridden with earlier – Paul and James (hope I’m remembering their names correctly). They had made it to the ristori but Paul was having mechanical troubles. Chad and I both had packed multi tools and soon we had Paul fixed up.
After filling our bellies we left Radi, onward to the next sections of strade bianche. While the paved roads were all beautifully maintained, the gravel roads varied in conditions. Most were quite good with hard packed chalky surfaces, others a bit rutted. But even the rutted ones usually had a couple of paths on either side that were fairly smooth. Here in Colorado a lot of the gravel gets pretty loose and deep in places. Not fun to ride into especially at the bottom of a hill. Training on Colorado roads really helped prepare us for these Italian gravel roads. What riding in Colorado didn’t prepare us for were the inclines of the roads. As nice as the pavement was, and as easy as the gravel was to ride on (comparatively speaking) I was not ready for the sheer, UNRELENTING steepness of almost every hill we had to ride up and down. And I don’t recall a time when we weren’t riding up or down a hill. I was told that some of the grades would be 15%. What I wasn’t told was that the rest were 16, 17, and 20%! AND to top it off the hills were HUGE! We’d climb, and climb, and climb some more. The road would start to level off (okay, from 18 down to 15%) and we’d think, “Finally, reaching the top” and then we’d round a curve and the road would shoot up again. Challenging and demoralizing were two words that came to describe it (depending on mood and miles ridden). I’m not ashamed to admit that I didn’t make it pedaling to the top of several of these hills and had to walk instead. However I was never alone, lots of riders walked up the steeper sections. I was in awe of those that were able to ride some of these monsters.
It was a beautiful day to ride in the Tuscan countryside. Warm sunshine, light breeze. As the day progressed riders strung out more but it was rare to ever be alone on the road. I passed many riders patching flats. Along the strade bianche to Asciano Chad and I came across the Brits Paul and James working on Paul’s bike at the side of the road. This time he had a cut sidewall on his tire and was looking like his ride might be done. Thankfully Chad had a foil energy bar wrapper and we were able to use it to boot the cut and get Paul back on the road again.
End Part 1.
John