A misunderstanding between me and a secretary. The result? Today, Tuesday, February 1 find that I am appointments, while the February 8, will I get if I have to be everywhere at the same time in two studies to seventy kilometers from each other. Too late to move appointments to date, eight for the remedy is in some way. After the first moment of bewilderment, I decide to make the most of the day off. How? By bike, of course. A quick glance to the weather, cold but sunny I change quickly and at ten o'clock in childbirth with the bike to a destination that I do not have the courage to tell anyone (I say generally in the Garfagnana, a mountainous area with many large and destinations): San Pellegrino in Alpe. I was told of the steep slopes of this climb, so I take the old steel road bike that weighs a lot more, but it has three chainrings with soft links to be mountain-bike and pedals with cages in the steep slopes that make me less fear than the shoes stuck to the pedals (I fell in a short time ago while climbing gear ratio, I jumped the chain and I have not had time to release the pedal, fortunately only a bruise to the side, but I remained fear). At 0:30 arrival in Castelnuovo Garfagnana, I stop at a bar and eat a slice of pizza and a sandwich, ask your bartender for the road ahead.
"For San Pellegrino? After the bridge turn left, then get up to eighteen kilometers ...." I doubt they explore, then continues, "Have you ever made?" "No" "Why look at that with the machine takes the first heat and tires, are you sure?" "No, but just in case the bike around and go back, no?" "But then today, still the time did not know how ..."
"Okay, if the weather is bad I go back ... thank you, goodbye."
The type seems a bit 'nervous, I do not have many arguments, except that I can go back and we're in a free country. At 13 I moved back to the bike. You climb steeply, okay, I knew. But I like it. After two hours of road traffic, feel the pleasure of isolation. Cars are increasingly rare, and after church Fosciana four kilometers, does not move anymore. I just feel the wind and the bike. The surrounding mountains are all whitewashed, I'm excited. Even the trees thin out. Higher still, another individual noise my breath, growing heavier and heavier. Now I'm at 900 meters altitude, Chiozza, a small cluster of houses, and I see snow on the roadsides. The landscapes are breathtaking meadows dotted with trees, some small house, and the white snow, which acts as a sugar. I am alone, now. No more houses, I feel a great pleasure. In knowing that my legs are pushing over a thousand meters, nothing but my legs, I am grateful to my body and the world around them. It makes me rejoice in the here and now, for the fact that often the finer things in life can not be predicted and planned in detail, that the share of added value is often unknown. Either you live with fear, or joy. For now bet on the latter possibility. Now the snow lies in heaps on the roadside, which was quite clean, are at 1200 meters, approaching the final stretch, there are two degrees above zero.
Here, the wall. A sign indicating the 18% slope, the road goes straight up, gasp. I go up on the pedals and the wind, which sent me pins as the snowflakes of the roadside. I go on, look at the thermometer on the bike, minus one, the wind is strong again now, I'm down, I try to tell ten more rides, the account, another ten, I sit on the saddle, now a turn, weakens slightly Perhaps I've walked a mile, another one is missing, too. Again, the wall, another sign to 18%, go back on the pedals, now the grief is great, I feel cold in the head and hands (from Castelnuovo I saw the sun and I had lifted his cap and gloves), a cramp in his right thigh , I keep still, raise my head and see more about the houses. Continues in great pain, I see that lack two bends. On the last bend a strong gust of wind, disarray, then go downstairs. I continue to walk the last hundred meters in the throes of cramping in both legs. Here's the cartel of San Pellegrino in Alpe, 1525 meters above sea level). The wind does not make me think, I'm cold. Arrive in a square, a bar, it says open, move the handle but will not open. Across the street a man - but that will have a light sensor, a camera could see me? - I scream, "I come."
arrives, I open the bar. I order a double coffee, take a piece of pie with apricots, I eat a piece, it makes me sick. I ask for the bathroom, I lock myself inside myself and I lie down on the toilet bowl. I rest, I recover a bit, 'back in the bar.
"Where you from?"
"Da Lucca."
"Ah. Every now and then someone picked up."
"Who picked up on"
"Cyclists. Means frozen. Tired. Or have the cramps, stop and do not make it to continue."
"Really?"
"Sure. Now there are at least four out, and this morning was at least eight. Years ago, no one has done it, but it was not the first. It will not be the last."
touch me, not for pleasure.
"I made a picture out there, please?"
"again? But now the road is icy, I do not think that will do it ..."
touch me again. "I can take a picture?"
"Sure."
We go out for a moment, I am the photo, it gives me the car.
"Thanks."
I'm leaving, but he wants to add something, I have a premonition that will not be anything good.
"But do not worry," he yells, grinning into the wind "all part of the natural cycle , here we have so many wolves."
"Goodbye." Scream a bit 'pissed, not at all amused, and I start gingerly down the wall. Runs through it slowly for fear of the ice, however, I see that in the middle of the road there is none, the crystals can be seen at the edges, but the climate is dry, it is only a veneer. The wind, that yes, scary. It is only the first few miles, then returns a relative calm that I could even distract from the scene again.
The rest are details of a long, long descent: a stop at a bar in Gallicano to enjoy a hot chocolate and I arrived at six and a half at home in the dark (luckily I had a helmet and a light to stop flashing that I have linked to jacket).
"For San Pellegrino? After the bridge turn left, then get up to eighteen kilometers ...." I doubt they explore, then continues, "Have you ever made?" "No" "Why look at that with the machine takes the first heat and tires, are you sure?" "No, but just in case the bike around and go back, no?" "But then today, still the time did not know how ..."
"Okay, if the weather is bad I go back ... thank you, goodbye."
The type seems a bit 'nervous, I do not have many arguments, except that I can go back and we're in a free country. At 13 I moved back to the bike. You climb steeply, okay, I knew. But I like it. After two hours of road traffic, feel the pleasure of isolation. Cars are increasingly rare, and after church Fosciana four kilometers, does not move anymore. I just feel the wind and the bike. The surrounding mountains are all whitewashed, I'm excited. Even the trees thin out. Higher still, another individual noise my breath, growing heavier and heavier. Now I'm at 900 meters altitude, Chiozza, a small cluster of houses, and I see snow on the roadsides. The landscapes are breathtaking meadows dotted with trees, some small house, and the white snow, which acts as a sugar. I am alone, now. No more houses, I feel a great pleasure. In knowing that my legs are pushing over a thousand meters, nothing but my legs, I am grateful to my body and the world around them. It makes me rejoice in the here and now, for the fact that often the finer things in life can not be predicted and planned in detail, that the share of added value is often unknown. Either you live with fear, or joy. For now bet on the latter possibility. Now the snow lies in heaps on the roadside, which was quite clean, are at 1200 meters, approaching the final stretch, there are two degrees above zero.
Here, the wall. A sign indicating the 18% slope, the road goes straight up, gasp. I go up on the pedals and the wind, which sent me pins as the snowflakes of the roadside. I go on, look at the thermometer on the bike, minus one, the wind is strong again now, I'm down, I try to tell ten more rides, the account, another ten, I sit on the saddle, now a turn, weakens slightly Perhaps I've walked a mile, another one is missing, too. Again, the wall, another sign to 18%, go back on the pedals, now the grief is great, I feel cold in the head and hands (from Castelnuovo I saw the sun and I had lifted his cap and gloves), a cramp in his right thigh , I keep still, raise my head and see more about the houses. Continues in great pain, I see that lack two bends. On the last bend a strong gust of wind, disarray, then go downstairs. I continue to walk the last hundred meters in the throes of cramping in both legs. Here's the cartel of San Pellegrino in Alpe, 1525 meters above sea level). The wind does not make me think, I'm cold. Arrive in a square, a bar, it says open, move the handle but will not open. Across the street a man - but that will have a light sensor, a camera could see me? - I scream, "I come."
arrives, I open the bar. I order a double coffee, take a piece of pie with apricots, I eat a piece, it makes me sick. I ask for the bathroom, I lock myself inside myself and I lie down on the toilet bowl. I rest, I recover a bit, 'back in the bar.
"Where you from?"
"Da Lucca."
"Ah. Every now and then someone picked up."
"Who picked up on"
"Cyclists. Means frozen. Tired. Or have the cramps, stop and do not make it to continue."
"Really?"
"Sure. Now there are at least four out, and this morning was at least eight. Years ago, no one has done it, but it was not the first. It will not be the last."
touch me, not for pleasure.
"I made a picture out there, please?"
"again? But now the road is icy, I do not think that will do it ..."
touch me again. "I can take a picture?"
"Sure."
We go out for a moment, I am the photo, it gives me the car.
"Thanks."
I'm leaving, but he wants to add something, I have a premonition that will not be anything good.
"But do not worry," he yells, grinning into the wind "all part of the natural cycle , here we have so many wolves."
"Goodbye." Scream a bit 'pissed, not at all amused, and I start gingerly down the wall. Runs through it slowly for fear of the ice, however, I see that in the middle of the road there is none, the crystals can be seen at the edges, but the climate is dry, it is only a veneer. The wind, that yes, scary. It is only the first few miles, then returns a relative calm that I could even distract from the scene again.
The rest are details of a long, long descent: a stop at a bar in Gallicano to enjoy a hot chocolate and I arrived at six and a half at home in the dark (luckily I had a helmet and a light to stop flashing that I have linked to jacket).
I came home happy, happy to have arrived there.
0 comments:
Post a Comment