After untangling myself from the mass of riders on the start line and making it back to the car, a display of fine Italian driving followed. We edged out of our parking spot and in behind the team cars and in front of the team buses and trucks. We followed the caravan through the neutral area behind a Liquigas team car and decided that they probably knew the best way out of the city, so we sat an uncomfortable (at least it was for me) 2ft from their bumper. The rest of the day followed a pattern. Race along the freeway, cut across country to the race route, wait with the locals for 10 or 15 minutes for the race to pass through, run back to the car, race along the freeway, repeat. Each time we stopped the local clubs in all their shapes, sizes and colors had taken a ride out watch the race go by. It was like watch a parade on the history of cycling clothing.
We did this all the way through to the climb of LeMánie where we eventually stopped long enough for my stomach to settle with the help of one of the best coffees I have ever had. The landscape had transformed from the flat farmlands outside Milan to the lush Caps that take you over to the Med. At this point the race had ignited. The crash had happened. The peleton had split, and favorites were missing from the lead group. The race was on. When they came past us on the climb they were strung out into a series of small groups, there was a lot of pain on show and gaps between wheels. At this point they had about 90km to go, and anyone that wouldn’t get back on before Capo Berta or The Cipressa was not going to figure in the final result. That was some big names, Thor, Cav, Oscar. Thor came past on Van Summeren’s wheel with a mixture of pain and anger all over his face. Van Summeren didn’t look much better.
Back to the car, and we raced down to the base of the Poggio. At this point we were on coarse ahead of the race, and had clear roads all the way over the Poggio into San Remo. This wouldn’t have been the way I would have chosen to go over the Poggio for the first time (in a Mercedes at 80kph) but it was good enough to get us to the finish area and onto the Farnese Vini Neri team bus to watch the finish live on TV.
CATEGORIES: From The Saddle,Races
CATEGORIES: From The Saddle,Routes
This post started out as a stab at documenting the Rapha 500, but quickly turned into a lament on riding in the east coast US during the winter, and an ode to cabin fever spurred on by the turbo trainer. In the end despite everything I still managed to get about 350 KMs in, although mostly done indoors, but also managed to do some nerve damage to the tip of my little finger because of riding in the cold.
Day 1 / 12.24.10
This is all pretty new to me up here in Litchfield County, CT, and in retrospect considering this may have been the only day I’ll get that stays above 3oºF (-1ºC), I probably should have picked a flatter route to eke out as many miles as my fingers and toes could cope with. Instead I ended up going over what seemed like endless hills, and whilst beautiful, were not helping me much in my R500 challenge.
Avg Speed: 20.96 kph (hills will account for the general slowness)
Feet climbed: 3040ft
Temperature: 3oºF (-1ºC), with wind chill 21ºF (-6ºC)
Calories Burned: 1516 cal
Wine Consumed: Half Bottle of a Cab and 1 glass of Argentinian Malbec
General Mood: Despite the cold, happy to be out
R500 Prediction: Optimistic
Note: Wine consumed was not done during rides, please remember to ride responsibly.
Day 2 / 12.25.10
It just got colder, a lot colder. The air temperature was 27ºF (-3ºC) and the wind chill brought it down to a finger-numbing 17ºF (-8ºC). It is amazing how much difference the sun makes when it is shinning on your back. On the suggestion of a neighbor who thought I was insane for going out (I explained that there may be Rapha kit at the end of all of this as a logical explanation, didn’t seem to cut it, obviously not a believer) I went along the valley floor to hopefully clock more miles and less hills. Unfortunately leaving my embrocation back in Brooklyn meant my legs never seemed to get moving in any sort of fluid way. I dropped down gears to ride at a high cadence to try and elevate my circulation, which just proceeded to frustrate me at how slow I was covering ground. Alas, one hour out and my fingers had completely gone, to the point I was finding it hard to change gears, so I headed back. It is beautiful around here, but it is f#*king cold this time of year.
Avg Speed: 22.5 kph (legs frozen will account for that general slowness)
Feet climbed: 1633ft
Temperature: 27ºF (-3ºC), with wind chill 17ºF (-8ºC)
Calories Burned: 866 cal
Wine Consumed: Half Bottle of a very nice Chateau Leoville Barton
General Mood: It’s Xmas! How could you not be happy?
R500 Prediction: Semi-Optimistic
Day 3 / 12.26.10 / Snowopolis
It just got really white and unridable around here. In the evening things weren’t looking too bad, and then we saw the “Severe Weather Warning“. The first picture above was just before it started, and the second picture is the 18 inches of coverage we got in one night. The day fast became a day of drinking coffee and sanding and painting walls.
Distance: 0 km
Temperature: 26ºF (-4ºC), with wind chill 17ºF (-8ºC)
Calories Gained: Lots
Wine Consumed: Other half bottle of the very nice Chateau Leoville Barton
General Mood: Hibernating
R500 Prediction: Doubtful
Day 4 / 12.27.10 / Snowopolis Day 2
It is amazing how quickly they clear the roads around here in Litchfield County, but still not enough to ride, so some indoor trainer time ensued. Looking out the window into this winter wonderland got old really quickly.
Distance: 51.4 km
Temperature: 72ºF (22ºC)
Calories Burned: 926
Wine Consumed: Started in on a nice Malbec
General Mood: Still Hibernating
R500 Prediction: Fail
Day 5 / 12.28.10 / Snowopolis Day 3
We decided to take on riding of another type and take advantage of essentially being snowed in. We broke out the snowboards and hit the local hill for an afternoon of “Cross Training”. I crouched as low as my very tuned snowboarding style would allow to get as close to a squat simulation as I could. It didn’t work, but I did enjoy the snow.
Distance: 10 km
Temperature: 3oºF (-1ºC), with wind chill 21ºF (-6ºC)
Calories Burned: I think I may have added some by getting a Hot Chocolate
Wine Consumed: Finished the Malbec
General Mood: Optimistic Again
R500 Prediction: Maybe I should just try and do it all on a trainer….never going to happen
CATEGORIES: From The Saddle,Rides,Routes
My first ride out of our new place upstate in West Cornwall, Litchfield county. Just over 2 hours in 30 degrees, not exactly the weather you would want for an inaugural ride, but beautiful all the same. The roads around here are perfect for riding, with ample hills to get over. I reckon this bodes well for the Rapha Festive 500. Lets see if we can squeeze that in alongside a healthy does of DIY.
CATEGORIES: From The Saddle,Rides
A photo essay of some of the highlights from the course is here.
This summer I got to ride on the course of the Tour Of Lombardy after nearly a 2o year wait, falling in love with it all while watching it on TV from afar. Not that the riders this weekend will be doing much sightseeing, the course has to be one of the most stunning in the world. The climbs and roads of the route have a historic and poetic ring to them, in an area that is passionate about its riding. That coupled with the cool breeze that comes off the lake as you ride, makes this race and the area one of the pros’ favorite places to turn their pedals. From the busy town of Como up towards the village of Argegno along the west shore of the lake. Past millionaires row and George Clooney’s villa. Along by the cafes and hotels of Argegno, then left up a punchy little hair-pinned climb and over the hills to Intelvi. After the village at the top, a bumpy descent down to the shore of Lake Lugano. More hills, and then down again to the beautiful village of Menaggio (where we witnessed the worst thunderstorm we have ever seen from our camper) and around the top of Lake Como. Then down the valley to Lecco, to get onto the peninsula and towards the finale. Up the east side of the peninsula on the stunning SP583, with the view of Varenna in the distance. Then the legendary Ghisallo. Not the longest or steepest of climbs, but deceptively hard. Past the shrine to cycling at the top and right over the Sormano climb, the highest point on the circuit. Down to the lake again and the finish. This is a hard course, and one for riders that have saved a little for end-of-season glory. Always animated. Always beautiful to watch.
A second essay climbing the Ghisallo is here.
See the 1800KM photo essay here
So almost one year ago today we did our first post on the Elcyclista site. Almost as exciting was sending our first Elcyclista kit out not long after. That was to Stefan Rohner, who turned out to be an amazing and published photographer, and so our photo features began. Since then Stefan regularly drops me a note to poke fun at my riding – like I rode up the Stelvio on the wrong side (Ed: is there a right side? They both hurt you know). So it is only fitting that on this day of celebration in the Elcyclista household we are able to publish this stunning photo essay from Stefan.
He just spent three weeks with his brother riding the great and slightly lesser known climbs of the Pyrenees. The numbers speak for themselves. The longest daily ride: 168km, the shortest daily ride: 83km, the average ride: 135km. Vertical climb approximately: 36,500m, average: 2810m…. but you know what, none of that really mattered to them. No Garmin or SRM, they just figured it out after wards, choosing to ride the climbs with their thoughts, conversation, and a view. What I love about these images, is that you can literally feel the silence on the climbs, and the only sound left is your breathing and the changing of gears. The absence of people and traffic. The aftermath of the Tour (they rode them in the weeks right after the Tour had passed through). If anything ever makes you question why you ride, or commit so much of you life to sitting in a saddle, look at these pictures. You will instantly remember why.
There is also something very fitting, that on the day that we get to publish these incredibly peaceful photos, we are also able to pay tribute to Laurent Fignon who did so much to animate racing on the roads of the Pyreness, The Marie Blanque, Aubisque, Solour, Tourmalet, Larrau, Pierre St. Martin, Burdincurucheta, Baragui, Houratate, Bouezou, Sustary, Labays, Marmare, Pradel, Pailheres, Agnes, Ares, Peyresourde, Aspin,
Catch the Marin Photo Essay here
It seems San Francisco has been having a “Bad Weather” summer, at least until last Friday. I had the weekend to myself with my bike and planned a few days riding on some of my favorite roads on the other side of the Golden Gate Bridge. I woke on Saturday morning at 6.3o am, one of the benefits of west coast jet lag, and peered out the window to see a typical grey but breaking morning. I layered up expecting a cold but completely rideable day (minus sun block). By the time I had reached the top of Bay Street I had already removed one layer. This was my first day out in the Elcyclista arm warmers, and the first impression is that they are definitely built for the autumn/winter and colder spring morning conditions. My arms were hot. By the time I dropped down into Sausalito the clouds had broken and blue sky had set in for the rest of the day. I stopped in Fairfax for a coffee and got layered properly before I headed up towards Mt Tam and Alpine Lake. The climb up to the lake is a steady and beautiful climb, and you crest the top to see the lake and reservoir down to your left. A swift and well-paved descent takes you down to the water and over the top of the dam. The climb out the other side to Mt Tam is at first steep but evens out towards the top. I am glad I went this way round, as the surface on this side would be a little sketchy for a descent, having seen one rider bail on one of the corners and completely over cook it onto a grass verge. Enter third weather system of the day. Mt Tam was shrouded in cloud rolling up from the Pacific, which made for a spectacular but chilly ride along the “Seven Sisters“. It was at this point one of two things started to happen. Either my knees had decided it was all over, or someone had dropped gravel in my bottom bracket at the coffee shop. Luckily it was mostly a downhill ride all the way to Mill Valley where the guys at Above Category managed to get me back on the road with a new Chris King BB installed. I headed back over the bridge and stopped at Blue Bottle thinking of one of the best days you could have on a bike. The shots of the ride are here.
Above 1: Taking some sun on the Ghisallo ferry post ride.
Above 2: Topping up in the camper on Lake Como.
Above 1: Brad got a flat on Riverside Drive.
Above 2: On River Road, the weekly climb.
Above: Anwen sneaks a peak at the Tour, She likes Andy.
As one local pointed out to us when asking for directions on the way up, pronounced “Geezallo“. I have wanted to ride this climb for years. The Tour of Lombardy has always been one of my favorite races, with the best name ever: “The Race of the Falling Leaves“. In all of our trips to Europe we have managed to miss this region, so this time a whole 9 days was dedicated to Lake Como and then up into Bormio. You don’t have to spend long on the roads around the lake to realize that you are close to the pulse of Italian cycling. Riders of every size and age were out clocking miles on some of the best roads you will ever ride. The Ghisallo climb itself has been the decider in many races, from the Giro to the Tour of Lombardia, and the lesser known Coppa Agostini and Giornata della Bicicletta. They live and breathe riding here. Lombardia has over 700 registered cycling clubs with over 12,000 members. If you are wondering what they all do for the year, they have a choice of over 1200 races to to choose from.
The climb itself isn’t particularly spectacular. You spend most of it wrapped in trees. But the draw of the Shrine to Cycling, and the views from the top are what makes this ride worth the effort (we did it twice, once at the start of the trip and once at the end). We started on the east side of the lake where we were staying and rode the 10 miles up to Varenna to catch the ferry over to Bellagio where the climb started. Right out of the village the road pitches up to over 10%, and at that point you aren’t even really on the climb, but you know you are when you hit a little roundabout. From there you just sit on 8% – 9% for about 3km, easing for 4km before you hit the village of Civenna. This is where it gets a bit cruel, as you start to go downhill. Wait, did I miss the church? That can’t have been it? Brilliant views appear through the trees and there was no sign of any shrine, but the riders all seemed to be going in one direction. Then there it is, not the shrine, but the sign. The 8 turns sign. The last 2km take you around 8 hairpins at 9% – 10%. Rounding the last turn you can see the church’s spire and you know you are on that last famous stretch to the brow where the church emerges out of the hedges. I hammered it, deep into the red, and arrived at the little statue of Coppi hyperventilating. What must he have thought?
The photo essay can be seen here
Note: Incredibly proud of my wife. Someone who gets herself mostly out in the Park, put herself on her own training plan and dragged herself up the Ghisallo twice!
CATEGORIES: From The Saddle,Routes
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I rode the Gavia the day after riding up the valley and doing the Stelvio. I headed out earlier as the day before the heat was killing my Irish air-conditioning. I am just not built to ride in that sort of heat at that effort, I need about 10 bottles of water to feel “normal”. The Stelvio, despite being tough, was a really beautiful climb to ride, but the Gavia from the start felt completely inhospitable. It kind of meanders out of the back end of Bormio, without the grand entrance of the Stelvio with its beautiful sweeping hairpins. It just goes straight up through a series of villages layered with some cobbled streets. It then enters what seems to be an endless section that winds through cow-covered pastures that have an extra strong smell of cow dung and a cacophony of flies to accompany you on your journey upwards. This section hurt a lot, and getting buzzed by the Moto Guzzis wasn’t helping me any.
Just when I was getting sick of swatting flies off my sweaty arms I rounded a bend and was confronted with a daunting-looking cliff face with a very narrow 18% road clutching onto its side and views into the National Park. Out of the saddle for this bit, keeping the pedals turning was about all I could manage, the gradient popped between 12 and 14%. At this point I still hadn’t met one other rider. Passing along this cliff face there were little memorials carved into the rock for people who had died on the mountain, driving, hiking and riding. This drops you onto the last phase of the climb with a real sense of humility. This is the section in the Giro that had the snow banks piled along each side a couple of feet above the riders’ heads. Looking up the valley at that last 5km, it should have been easy, but a rising headwind, poor road surface and just general lack of energy made it a grind. You are surrounded by the most spectacular views. Glaciers covered in snow in June, reflected in frozen Alpine lakes. You ride past the famous crucifix that tells you you are nearly there. It is probably the most unspectacular summit road I have ever gone up. The gradient just kind of stops and you are there, next to a very muddy car park. It feels pretty inhospitable and cold up there and I didn’t really hang around.
The trip down was taken very cautiously. Lack of guard rails and a sketchy surface made it tough to let loose until I hit the villages again and was able to stop and de-layer. Sitting here now looking at the shots again, it is a must-do climb. You fight it all the way up and never feel comfortable. It is cold, windy and remote, but it gives you a serious sense of you “beat it” when you get back into Bormio and roll past the hotel where Andy Hampsten stayed. Chapeau Andy I can’t imagine doing that in a snow blizzard.
You can see the full photo essay here.
CATEGORIES: From The Saddle,Routes
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