Tour of Italy 2020 – II part
In the week that would mark the start of the Giro d’Italia, the second part of our Giro di Taglia dedicated to solo cycling
Here we are, this is the weekend that would have seen the start of the Giro d’Italia, instead it is only the beginning of the second week from the end of the lockdown, or rather from its lightening, in practice a transfer stage between phase 1 and phase 3. In the meantime, you can continue to ride your bike, however, on your own and our solo cycling artist, Luca Pisanu, occasionally indulges in some company, which is not a typos in the countryside or even as a companion, seen that we are on the subject of recognition of and with relatives.
Sulmona – Passo Godi
Abruzzo is a Trentino Alto Adige that has not believed and still does not believe enough in itself. He would probably need a mental coach. Wonderful land with high pedaling capacity populated by skewers, the infamous rustell. The seemingly surly people open after a glass of red wine, exactly like the tongue. The Abruzzo language was recently deciphered thanks to Rosetta’s rustell, a lady who was perpetually in front of the oven to roast sheep skewers, and is very similar to Italian. Just remove 90% of the vowels. For example, if you wanted to threaten a neighbor who makes a mess in the garden you can tell him “t det l cocc” which stands for “I detach the guard” even if the first time it seems that the said sentence was just “t det the coach ”in reference to the suggestion above. I am lucky enough to meet Gianfranco, a former fellow soldier but above all a friend from Abruzzo who shares my passion for cycling and with whom I faced the ascent to the Godi Pass not before having, however, involved two other mad people in the attempt to do the business, Alfio and Gianka who like the long and distant relationship with the bike, in the sense that they use it only once a year and possibly to do something inhuman the day after big binges. A bit as if I, barely afloat, were swimming in the Strait of Messina, destroyed by lard. I could do it in Nuoro, I don’t think swimming.
Our two do not have a bike that can be defined as such, but the team’s sporting director, grandfather Peppe, father of Gianfranco and super fan of Fausto Coppi, provides with scrap mtb for Gianka and shameful e-bike for Alfio. The e-bike is a bike that if you do not use the motor and pedal assistance is like a normal bike that however weighs three times as much. Alfio, as a good engineer, uses it exactly like this … We then head towards the headquarters of Anversa degli Abruzzi, which in honor of the Tour of Flanders we will call Antwerpen, the old cottage of Gianfranco’s grandparents, ideal place to break a spear in favor of the necessary hardening. Street shower and breakfast with freshly baked chicken eggs (the eggs, the hens do not come out of the oven for now …), no electricity and therefore absolute mystery about the latest purchases and / or buyers of Rome. The tactic for climbing to Passo Godi is dictated by Gianka at dinner and is algebraically quite primordial: “One ride after another we arrive.” And indeed it is true! The following morning, pedaling, the bikes move … The goal is to get to Scanno alive and have breakfast. The entry into the village is triumphant, the indigenous indigenous people would like to know “a k s fij kist?”, They look at us as Martians, they make us an X-ray, in practice they “scan” us. The salvation that (not) makes us slaughtered is to meet Lillino, cycling legend of the past who, given the reports we use, compliments us like this: “Before with a pedaling you did 20 meters, now with 20 rides you make one “. After the Great Refusal of various females in high school this is one of the greatest humiliations ever suffered with the subtle difference that this time is well deserved. Quickly read the newspaper at the bar and get back on the bike. The pace going out of Scanno is slightly more sustained but only because being attacked by the Maremma Abruzzese shepherds by bike is never beautiful or sebastien. Of course, defining a pace at 10 km per hour “sustained” is a bit of a gamble and there is a limit to everything, especially at our speed. The hardest part of the climb to Passo Godi begins where the various dairies end, targeted for the return. Gianka remains a little delayed because she is on the cell call working client in Brazil. To be more credible, he put on his flip flops and has Il Sole 24 Ore in the pocket of Bermuda shorts, in fact pedaling is affected. The sun in these areas, however, never lasts 24 hours, changes color and turns black like the pecorino of Gregorio di Valle Scannese. The hairpin bends climb and keep us company as well as the flagship led by grandfather Peppe who brought Max, Gianfranco’s son, as a navigator and who every time he sees us encourages us with a “You are really bad”. In short, in the end, more than Passo Godi it was Passo Soffri.
Cortona – Lucignano
Among the beautiful things that cycling has given me there is my team, the Tuscania Battalion of the Polisportiva Val di Loreto and with them the so-called “cyclistorics”, the bike races with vintage wheels for those with little wheels , the hangouts for the real crazy ones. Oh yes, because I thought I was crazy going to Roubaix but I found myself in a coach in the company of Caporre and Dot, exponents of the category. It was Caporre who broke the ice since I was Sardinian and his fiancée at the time as well. It seemed bad to say immediately “forget it because with sardines it’s all cobbles. I emigrated because they were disconnected … “and therefore I opted for a Christian Democrat” come on?!? “. Caporre is a great cyclist with a “very light” predisposition to injury, if there is even the slightest chance of getting hurt he can. He is capable of dislocating his shoulder on rugby on Saturday, playing the Eroica the next morning and returning to play rugby in the afternoon because “so much is nothing GRAVEL”. A five-a-side football, as well as with the ball, argues with everyone and is often expelled not before having crippled the most dangerous of the opponents. They make him play for it. On 20 meters on a bike with a long ratio, it is the strongest in the world but then it crashes and Bulo insults him. When I go to Cortona, where 14% of my ashes will be scattered because this is the strength of the Pugnitello produced by Caporre, I am often his guest and his parents, Franco and Signora Carla. Franco waits for “his son” to spill a bucket of frozen water on him when he goes by bike while Mrs. Carla swears in her own way.
Sam Philips said “give me a white man who sings with a black soul” and he found Elvis Presley. Mrs. Carla has combined the blues of the Venetian blasphemies with the country of the Tuscan ones, thus giving birth to the rock blasphemy, combining Our Lady with the most disparate ethnic groups in this world. Dot made me a little awe at the beginning because when he said “I took two teeth” I didn’t understand if it was for his dentist job or because it had gone from 19 to 21 in the rear sprocket pack. Does your girl collect shoes? Dot is a serious serial collector of Bianchi, he is the one who supplies me with steed for Cortonese and Chianina. Great tennis player, great punishment from the limit on soccer, great fork … holder of the absolute record on the 6 km of Montecchio-Camucia with time trial bike, also because he is the only one to do it. This is how he goes to work except on 29 June when he celebrates the Santissimi Pietro & Paolo in honor of Virdis, ex Milan center forward. The Bulo, with those Italian eyes on a trip, is Caporre’s worst nightmare, but if there is an impossible challenge to be faced, the two are inseparable also because they encourage each other insulting each other. They still contend for the captain’s gallons, as well as Chianti gallons, and it is a fight with no holds barred. I can not report here what they say because “Bulo, you put on a bitch’s ass!” it’s the most tender thing. The photo of Bulo and Caporre embraced on top of the Stelvio after 4000 meters of altitude difference in the snow, however, is second only to the historic exchange of water bottle between Coppi and Bartali. The physical preparation for a cycling tour as La Cortonese can be is more or less always the same:
1) I arrive on Saturday morning in Camucia-Cortona, a fatiguing stalk and insults between Bulo and Caporre who claims that “under 8% is not cycling”.
2) Lunch in the garden of Caporre which prepared the pici pasta with garlic. Bulo comes for coffee. Insults between Bulo and Caporre and blasphemies of Mrs. Carla.
3) Preparation of the bikes and recognition of the path that “strangely” ends in front of a bottle of Chianti. Insults between Bulo and Caporre that in the meantime he injured himself by mounting the bike rack on the car.
4) In the evening “we go to break the ‘oglioni al Santucci” who, cleverly, warns one of the group of gallant solo appointments and finds the whole team in the restaurant. Santucci insults Bulo and Caporre who have not kept their secrets.
On the morning of the cycling race, before cutting the tension into slices, the wonderful grandmother’s cake prepared by Dot’s mother for a first dose of carbohydrates is cut into slices. Head straight towards Camucia for a second breakfast at the Cristallo coffee shop where you can admire a very rare animal, the Falci, live. It is not a text error, it is not the hawk but the Falci, the only Tuscan who does not blaspheme. Finally we start but why talk about cycling when I can talk about the typical refreshment of a bicycle tour in Val di Chiana? The first time I asked Eroica for a piece of tart and some orange juice and I received a piece of crostone with finocchiona and some “juice” of grapes. The only reason that pushes you to ride in these events is that if you do not hurry you arrive late at the banquet and you have to settle for bruschetta because the hand-cut ham is finished. Upon arrival, after three or four Chianti-based refreshments as the only salt supplement, there is the pasta party where the conduct of the race is analyzed (usually there are insults between Bulo and Caporre) and we organize ourselves for dinner.
In short, cyclistorics are the stuff that weighs 77 kg and you go to a very expensive sport from the physical point of view that you can eat a lot that you burn and go home that weighs 82 kg. Bryan is the most elegant cyclist I have ever seen, including professionals, and he is the one who has the last word on the massacre of an amateur found positive for a Granfondo with half a parmesan cheese at stake. Dot often asks for a chat comment at 8 in the morning. If you ever have to choose between a lapidary judgment by Bryan and the death penalty, I recommend the latter because it is less painful. Bryan manages not a B&B but a corner of paradise in Lucignano, the Locanda del Baraccotto with the same elegance he shows in the saddle. There is no cycling race without Dot and I split up a Florentine in two while Bulo and Caporre are still arguing. Joke, they don’t argue, they insult each other for who the captain should be. Finally, however, we talk a little about bicycles, in particular we talk about brakes. Do you prefer disc or v-brake ones? Do you prefer progress or tradition? Do you prefer innovation or stillness? The Rooster agrees everyone: “I prefer the cunt.”
