Italy: land of sunshine, pasta, Fausto Coppi and home of the ultimate retro-ride. L’Eroica, “the Heroic,” saw its 17th running on October 6, 2013 and of course I was there joining the lucky participants enjoying some fine weather, some great food and some truly terrible roads on heavy bicycles with inappropriate gearing and lousy brakes. What could be better?
L’Eroica Vintage began in 1997 when a band of 82 cyclists,
dedicated to preserving the historic Strade Bianca, or white gravel roads, of
Tuscany set off on a ride to commemorate the brave and hardy racers who
challenged each other and the hilly terrain in those pre-asphalt days. The region, hilly with vineyards and
impressive villas, is home to Chianti Classico and a professional race
sponsored by what must be the oldest bank in the universe. This race might be considered the Italian
equivalent of the Tour of Flanders in terms of difficulty and has been won by
such luminaries as Fabian Cancellara and Philippe Gilbert. But those guys have team cars following and
closed roads and bikes with working brakes and clipless pedals. L’Eroica Vintage (there is also a running
event as well as a permanent route) eschews all that. The rules require a pre-1987 steel bike,
downtube shifters (if your bike has multiple gears at all!), non-aero cable
routing and pedals with straps and toe clips.
And the number of enthusiasts dragging their ancient Olmos or Legnanos
or Bianchis out of the basement has increased to the point where registration
is limited to 5,000 riders and foreigners under 60 need to enter a lottery to
participate.
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| Early morning start |
My friend Tom and I made the long trek southwards in a very
small car packed with our gear, a Batavus and a Peugeot jammed into the
back. After an afternoon riding around
in Bavaria we crossed the Alps into Austria (meeting some surprisingly heavy
traffic en route) before autostrading
our way across the flat plain of Northern Italy where we actually saw the
infamous Lamborghini police car. As we
entered Tuscany the scenery became much more attractive although the highway
became bone-jarringly dreadful. A portent of things to come? With some relief we turned off near Siena and
followed the tiny, twisty (but well-paved) roads. Then the GPS said “turn here!” and we then
had a chance to see what driving a white road was all about as we bounced along
4 kms of rough gravel that became ever-rougher to get to our rural agriturismo inn. It was somewhat more, uh, rustic that we had
expected but they had their own wine and a simple and inexpensive restaurant so
all was well with the world.
The next morning was Friday and time to get warmed up! We unpacked the retrocycles and headed back
out on the horrible road, getting covered with dust when the occasional car
drove by, until we reached the main road and blessed pavement. Entering the village of Vagliagli we had a
very steep little climb and soon found ourselves on more gravel. The roads were really not so bad, albeit
dusty, and they took us past many vineyards and isolated houses. 14 kms of riding (but it felt like more)
brought us to Castellina in Chianti, one of the three Classico towns, where we
adjourned for breakfast at a bar before enjoying a fast downhill before a
genuinely brutal climb in soft gravel and dirt from Santa Maria a Grignano
(where we admired a trailer load of purple grapes) to Panzano in Chianti and
lunch in village which consisted of three restaurants full of English-speakers,
a church and not much else. But now we
had a fantastic descent into Radda along a beautiful road with gentle
switchbacks and then on to the main attraction: Gaiole in Chianti.
Gaiole is the nerve centre of l’Eroica, a town of 2,500 that
is the start and finish of the various routes offered. It was estimated this year that the
registered participants plus family and friends totally around 15,000, so
needless to say the little town was bursting at the seams. I thought it would be easier than doing it on
Saturday so received my number and start kit but Tom had not brought any
identification so he had to leave empty-handed for one day anyway. We took a quick look at the vendors’ stalls but
decided to keep going and finish the warm-up ride.
At 59 kms Tom became so obsessed with the fact that a jockey
wheel on my rear derailleur was missing teeth that engaged in discussion as we
were we did not notice that we had passed our turn. We had a pleasant uphill climb to San Sano,
which appears to have more cats than any other place in Europe, before
realizing our mistake. We thought going
on to Lecchi would help but that was wrong too but at least there was an
opportunity to buy something to drink.
And unexpectedly meet someone who called me by name. It is a small world when it comes to retro
riding!
But not so small when you still have to get home and there
is at least another climb. We
backtracked and soon enough were back at our inn, 74 km in our legs and a crazy
1558 meter of climbing on our dusty bikes.
We had ridden much of the 75 km official l’Eroica route; there is a
shorter one of 38 kms and then the longer routes of 135 kms (which we had
chosen for Sunday) and the Big Kahuna: 205 kms.
There was much wine consumed that evening in the company of the equally
afflicted as we met cyclists from Germany, Britain and Sweden.
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| Registratrion madness |
Saturday was a washout, truly. We had torrential rain for 24 hours and this
was a major disappointment. Hanging
around Gaiole, checking out the vendors and meeting retro enthusiasts from all
over the world is a great experience, as I discovered in 2011. However, the heavy rain and the extremely
dense crowds (all 15,000 people wanted to get into the registration hall at the
same time, it seemed) were enough that after getting Tom’s number and kit we
beat a hasty retreat to the car and left after only an hour. We did buy some produce from the Saturday
market (sun-dried tomatoes and lots of local honey) but that was all. Luckily the rain let up enough that we could
make an excursion by car to Monteriggioni, a fortress village built in the 13th
Century by the Sienese as a strategic point in their endless war with
Florence. We enjoyed a walk around the
walls and some superb pizza before the rain returned. During dinner at the inn the heavens truly
opened up and we grimly considered what the morning would bring for the Big
Ride, although we found some solace in more wine.
After a restless night, we were up at 4 am (!) and were
happy to see stars, suggesting that the clouds had dispersed. We drove down to Gaiole, joined by dozens of
other cars, most with roof racks loaded with vintage bikes. We made our way through the crowded street to
the main parking lot (which Tom thought look threateningly muddy for an
underpowered car) and put our bikes together.
Here I discovered that the bracket for my essential headlight was missing
a fastener and my front brake cable had come loose. Luckily there are helpful mechanics on-site
and after navigating the chaos that is the l’Eroica start we had our cards
stamped and rolled off into the cold morning darkness. Not totally dark as we were surrounded by
other cyclists with seriously bright lights, intimidating the automobile
traffic.
At 5 kms we made a left hand turn and began the steady climb
towards the Brolio castle which, at 508 m ASL, is actually the highest point in
the ride. Brolio is a particularly noted
name in the Tuscan wine world and the castle dominates the very extensive
vineyards from its impressive summit. One
of the highlights of my 2011 ride was the climb up to the castle on the gravel
road lined with lit candles but, sadly, this tradition seems to have been
abandoned. Once at the top we began one
of the more treacherous descents of the climb, not helped by the muddy road but
we were encouraged by the rising sun.
We continued to follow the dirt and gravel road, the first
of ten such stretches were to face during the day. The weather had been forecast to be poor but
the threat of rain had been shifted to the afternoon and we rode in the dawn
light at a reasonable pace. Surprisingly,
the heavy rain the day before had not left pools of water but instead the
gravel roads had drained well and there was little if any dust. As it turned out we never did get the
promised rain.
After the village of Pianella our route turned west and we
skirted around Siena and Isola d’Arabia on excellent roads before joining
another long stretch of gravel that brought us to the flyspeck village of Radi
at 48 kms and our first food stop. The food
stops are justly celebrated as in addition to the usual sorts of things you
would expect on an organized ride there is Tuscan pastry, Chianti wine and,
just like the old days, raw eggs provided by a farmer with a basket. The Radi stop was mobbed but we stayed long
enough to replenish our water bottles and get some food in preparation for the
next segment. A real problem with old
bikes (in addition to the poor brakes and stupid pedals) is that most only have
provision for a single water bottle rather than two as on more modern bikes and
in the Italian heat you want to stay hydrated.
After Radi we had some very difficult stretches where the
road was often poor gravel, very steep or, worst of all, washed-out mud and very
steep. In previous years the numbers of
riders had been limited to 3500 but with 5000 this year there was a marked
difference as not a few cyclists were more enthusiastic than prudent. There was plenty of dangerous riding as
people tried to force their way onto the better stretches of road Roubaix-style
and one of group was hit by one of these careless riders. This certainly reduced the enjoyment as you
had to concentrate on keeping your line rather than admiring the Tuscan
scenery.
We headed east to Ponte d’Arbia and then further to the next
food stop at Ascania at Km 85. Instead
of the stop being next to the main road outside of the town as it was in 2011
the stop was right in the middle of the town, requiring us to move through
masses of people to get our cards stamped.
It was worth it of course because Ascanio is where you get the wonderful
Tuscan white bean and bread soup, ribollito.
It is cooked in big cauldrons over wood fires and handed, with a shot of
olive oil, to you by ladies in period costumes.
We sat on some stone steps and enjoyed the hearty fare but I warned Tom
that the next stretch would be brutal.
When I told him that it would take me 2 hours to ride 18 kms he laughed
in disbelief.
Climbing 120 m in 8 km does not sound so difficult but the
road from Ascanio to Mont Sainte Marie is very loose large-stone gravel or soft
earth and it is necessary to ride up and down three hills before the
summit. It is here that the downhill is
far worse than the uphill sections but this year I had made an effort to outfit
myself with shoes suitable for walking rather than the super-stiff cleated
vintage shoes I had used before. I was
joined by many others who did not have the strength, gearing or bravery to
attempt riding sections of this wretched road.
Although many stopped at the sign at the top of the hill I continued,
knowing there was more to come.
At Torre a Castello (Km 98) we rejoined the asphalt road
with indescribable joy. There was a fire
station at the intersection and a fountain where we could refill our bottles as
we set out for the next food stop at Castelnuovo Beradenga (Km 103). Even though we were riding on good asphalt
there was more climbing and a headwind and the day was beginning to feel
long. But soon Castelnuovo’s sizeable
presence was visible and we tore through the narrow streets and into the
delightful main square. 1:50 from
Ascanio so at least I beat the 2 hours!
Cards stamped, food enjoyed, a brief chat with a retired American
from Colorado and we were on our way again.
The next segment offered some superb descending on excellent roads and
we made up time that had been lost on the Strade Bianche. Riding northwest we passed through San Piero
and then rejoined our outbound route at Pianella at Km 114. Only 21 kms left to go!
Riding back up to the Brolio castle I was struck by how much
less pleasant the gravel road seems than it did early in the morning in the other
direction. It was hot and dusty as we
passed the endless vineyards and progress was glacial but finally we rode into
the castle driveway and then down to the main road. It was a very fast ride back over the last 10
kms and soon we were in Gaiole, dusty and triumphant and riding up the
finishing ramp to claim our bottles of special label Chianti. The village was a madhouse and it took some
effort to get through the crowds and back to our car.
Returning to our country inn we drove behind a row of tired cyclists, brave souls still doing the 205 km route, the real l’Eroica which is permanently signposted. We had completed 135 kms with 2300 m of climbing and that was plenty for me. My moving speed had been 16.4 km/h and I had been on the road for 10 hours and 9 minutes. There had been great moments and some depressing ones when, frankly, I did not feel much like a lottery winner but the l’Eroica experience is something special. So special that the idea is being franchised and 2014 will see l’Eroica events in England and Japan. And so special that it has inspired many more retro-rides, including at least 13 in Italy itself. Having done l’Eroica twice and in excellent weather both times (and with no flats!) I am satisfied but do not feel the need to do it again. Open roads beckon elsewhere and the familiar sound of squealing brake pads and panic stops will continue to echo around the world.
For more information: www.eroica.it
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