Cycling the Etruscan Coast, Retro-Style

Our good friends at Tommasini are working with L'Etrusca, an Italian retro-tour that began in 2013. It will run April 9-10, 2016 from Bolgheri, west of Florence and the routes range from a 27 km "L'Elegante" to a robust 160 km ride with lots of gravel.  And attention, Gran Fondo overchargers: the cost for the long route is 25 Euros if you register early!  Information about the ride (mainly in Italian) can be found here.

Until then, enjoy this video!

E-Bay Steel Bicycle Christmas!

Pretty well every cycling enthusiast I know like to surf through E-Bay.com to find parts, clothing and complete bicycles, even if sometimes this is just window shopping.  Bicycle stuff is ideal for auction as buyers are all around the world and parts can be shipped easily enough.  Sometimes there are real prizes to be found and since it is Christmas Eve I have found three delicious things, any one of which would find a welcome place under my tree tonight.

First up: a very nice restored 1976 California Masi built by legendary framebuilder Mario Confente as an example of his craftsmanship.  It has been restored by noted builder Brian Bayliss and can be purchased from its current owner in North Carolina for US $12,500, including a lot of nice Masi memorabilia.  Shipping worldwide is a reasonable and very specific US$ 495.07.

If this bicycle is too recent for your tastes or you prefer classic randonneuring, E-Bay will not let you down as there is an excellent unrestored 1973 Rene Herse classic available today and the auction price of US$14,750 not only buys you this rare piece of French craftsmanship but also includes two tickets to the 2015 Colorado Bike Expo.  The shipping cost of US$900 gives one pause, however.

These bicycles are the price of an excellent used car but for those with more elevated ambitions, here is a bicycle that costs the price of an excellent new car but is a lot less practical.  It is one of multiple Tour de France winner Miguel Indurain's Pinarello time trial bikes and dates to the first half of the 1992 season.  Apparently Big Mig likes to hold onto his bicycles so it is unusual to come on the market.  Even if not ridden at the Tour, it seems like a bargain to me at US$74,999.  Happily shipping is only US$1!

There has been a tradition in stories or movies of having a bright-eyed child unwrapping a shiny new two-wheeler on Christmas morning.  Think of the thrill that one of these would bring!

The Joy of Retro

The rediscovery of vintage bicycles has brought new enthusiasts into the fold and it was fun to watch this video highlighting the difference between modern and classic bicycles, the latter being one of Stephen Roche's race-winning mounts.  There are definite disadvantages to old technology.  The brakes in the pre-dual pivot era were not very good; the hairnet "helmet" is completely useless and even though it might ruin the look I use a modern helmet whenever I ride; and the clip-and-strap pedals are not very good as to be effect the straps have to be tightened up enough that they are difficult to get out of quickly.  And, yes, the gearing sometimes seems crazy to me.  Several of my bikes came with a 44-tooth chainring as the small one!

On the positive side, friction shifting seems to work well with the short cable run, there is nothing too difficult to work on, the frames tend to be comfortable and offer a smooth ride and the aesthetic value of these colourful bikes is superior to lookalike carbon bikes, although style is of course always a matter of personal opinion.   Steel bikes evoke a classic era not only in racing but touring as well and it is a good thing to see that what was once perceived as obsolete is making a comeback.  Retro rules!

In Velo Veritas: A Retro-Ride in Austria's Weinviertel

Arriving in Berlin years ago I was bemused to discover there were Austrian restaurants, which were perceived as foreign and exotic by the German locals, themselves no strangers to permutations of Schnitzel. But the Austrians were seen as having a lighter touch, possessing a flair with diverse ingredients and spicing it all with a knowing, sly humour.

A few years ago Horst Watzl and fellow enthusiasts Martin and Michl, admittedly inspired by Tuscany's great L'Eroica retro-ride, felt that that own country offered many of the same features that made the Italian ride so wildly popular: superb tarred roads; bad gravel roads; the odd cobblestone and nasty climb; and really excellent wine and food. Test runs were carried out with increasingly large groups until the first In Velo Veritas (IVV) was officially run in 2013, attracting 291 cyclists on old steel bicycles from 14 countries.  Here is a video of the 2013 event:

In Velo Veritas 2013 vimeo from Lensscapes on Vimeo.

News of the event spread and in 2014 well over 400 cyclists, representing 17 nationalities, came to ride one of three courses: the Epic (210 km); the Ambitious (140 km); and the Pleasurable (70 km). The majority of the riders are local but 40% make the trip from Germany.

The event is spread over two days on a June weekend. On Saturday registration was set up and the area around Korneuburg's Hapsburgian Rathaus on the Hauptplatz was given over to the arrival of cyclists, who came not only to sign in and get their numbers but also to look at the Flea Market, check out the display of some of the truly ancient bicycles brought over from the Bicycle Museum in Retz, enjoy an Eiskaffee in the afternoon sunshine the adjacent café, chat with other cyclists and admire a lot of cool racing bikes.

The rules are straightforward: you need a pre-1987 classic racing bicycle with downtube shifters and pedals with toeclips and straps. My participation was with my glorious 1975 Rickert Spezial built in his Dortmund workshop by the great Hugo Rickert with classic Reynolds 531 tubing, a SunTour Cyclone drivetrain and with slightly shakey pinstriping applied by Frau Rickert. I really need to do a post about Rickert's bicycles.  And “a suitable outfit for the riders would be very much appreciated” which meant wool jerseys for sure.  So I had my favourite RSV Vagabund '13 jersey to show off.

Besides the usual Colnagos and Peugeots one sees at these events there were there were many interesting Austrian bicycles—Puch, Austro-Daimler, Select, RIH and Steinmayr. (For more about Austrian bicycles, check out my review of a book about them here .) One of the unusual twists of this event is that you are photographed on Saturday in a “before” photo and then again on Sunday in an “after” version as the organizers were hoping for the gaunt and sweaty style of true “convicts of the road.”

At 4 pm the cyclists present were organized into the In Velo Veritas prologue and the group of about forty happy riders churned off westwards and soon reached the mighty Danube, A wide bikepath brought us along the river for 8 kms before turning northwards at Stockerau where we began what was first a rather gradual climb that became progressively steeper until it topped out at Km 21.6. A super-fast downhill came next, accompanied by the usual squealing of ineffective vintage brake blocks and we continued downhill more or less until we returned to the Hauptplatz after riding 32 kms in all, with a gain of 270 m. Time for dinner!

At our table was the Guest of Honour, former pro Rudi Mitteregger, a Very Cool Guy. Three-time winner of the Tour of Austria and an unmatched quadruple winner of the King of the Grossglockner competition, Herr Mitteregger is a very very fit 70 years old and he rode the prologue with us on his newly-restored green and white Puch bicycle. One of Austria's cycling legends, he is famous for a quote when leading the 1974 Tour of Austria he was left holding a wheel at the side of the ride when his team car was nowhere to be seen and shouted (in enraged and frustrated Austrian dialect): “Where are the monkeys? Still at the start?” He lost the stage but won the overall and immortality.

 

After dinner he took the stage for a Q&A and showed himself to be a gracious and entertaining speaker. A highlight had to be the arrival of a bike collector with one of Rudi's old Tour of Austria bikes, a silver Select (actually a relabelled Alan from Italy). It was carefully researched and restored and Herr Mitteregger enthusiastically agreed to sign it. And the very fit Austrian ace was looking forward to the 70 km ride the next day which was appropriate given his age!

Also at the dinner table was Hannes Weitscheider who is the manager of the Weinviertel tourism agency and he explained to us how his organization has been keen to work with IVV to develop the entire program to encourage visitors to come to the region. The routes were chosen to highlight the lovely scenery of rolling landscapes, historic small towns and villages and impressive castles but also to show off local products, of which wine was the most obvious but not the only one by far.

The evening program ended with the showing of a 15 minute experimental video, “In Velo Veritas,” which was shot on 16 mm film last year by filmmakers Milena Krobath and Johannes Schrems. Accompanied by the sounds of spinning spokes only, the video was in black and white and sepia and reversed images and had a timeless if fey quality.

Sunday and time to get serious, although I had plenty of time for breakfast.  Startlingly, someone in my little B&B at the next table recognized me from "Travels with a Tin Donkey," the first time this has ever happened.  A thrill to start the day!

The Epic riders had already assembled and ridden off from the Hauptmarkt at 6:00 am and headed northwards on a route that would take them into Moravia and the Czech Republic. The more modest Ambitious riders set out en masse at 08:00 am in what was claimed to be a neutral start but some of the more antsy riders were pushing the pace. The Rickert began to shift strangely as we almost immediately began to climb but the real problem was when we reached Stetten 13 kms into the ride and suddenly turned onto a “Weingasse.” This is a unique feature of the Weinviertel, an alley of small buildings that are used by vintners to store wine but also are opened up to serve wine and simple food during special events. The Weingasse in Stetten was paved with flat stones with surprisingly big gaps between them packed with earth. This was very difficult to ride and not helped by the steepness of the grade. But we pulled through and we rewarded with, oops, another long climb but one on dirt and gravel tractor path before a nice descent on smooth asphalt to Grossrussbach and the first control point at Km 37.

This had to be one of the highlights of the day. Unlike the usual organized long-distance rides where you can really only expect some bananas, energy bars and fluids, we found ourselves in a real restaurant. There was a fantastic variety of food, from three different soups to cakes, all-natural apple cider and grape juice, fruits and hot savoury strudel, either spinach or meat. Little signs explained where the products originated: for example, the milk for the coffee came from a particularly family farm.

We all sat together in the shady garden enjoying ourselves but eventually realized we had to go or else explain to friends how we had gained so much weight on a single ride. And in the parking lot was stationed a friendly mechanic, a cheerful Berliner, who put the Rickert shifting to rights in about 30 seconds. So no excuses now!

We had a bit of a laugh that the next control/food stop was only 15 kms away but laughed a bit less when we began to feel the effects of a headwind, coupled with a gradual but relentless climb. A very cool thing was crossing railway tracks and seeing four people using a draisine, a self-propelled railcar named after but not invented by Baron Drais, the generally accredited inventor of the bicycle.

We rode by the first castle of the tour, Schloss Niederleis, which dated back to the 12^th Century but had seen a number of reconstructions due to war and fashion and even served the Russian occupation administration from 1948-1955. But we were now climbing more steeply.

Some hard turns and we found ourselves, breathless, at the highest point in the Weinviertel, the Buschberg, which towers, relatively, 491 m ASL. The hut where we had our cards stamps and enjoyed a cold drink is the lowest-situated mountain hut maintained by the Austrian Alpine Club at 484 m.

Blasting down the descent of the Buschberg at 70 km/h with not-so-useful brakes was fun on the superb road and we rode through the green and lush landscape into the northwest headwind. But the sun was shining and we were having a great time. We passed another Weingasse near Mailberg, the third for the day and thankfully not involving cobblestones before pulling up to control point No.3, Schloss Mailberg at Km 78.

This castle has been owned by the Sovereign Order of the Knights of Malta since 1146 and, like most castles, has had many periods of reconstruction following numerous wars. It presently is an impressive hotel and we were treated to soup, yogurt and juice or, for those indulging, wine. We were joined now by the Epic riders heading on their way back and coming to Mailberg for a second time on their loop.

We had more climbing and descending, with not much of the hoped-for tailwind as we also turned back on our loop and by the time we returned to Grossrussbach at Km 114 the Rickert rider was feeling a bit rickety. We had already reached the amount of climbing claimed by the organizers for the whole route but fortifying ourselves with coffee and cake we attacked the last 30 kms of our route.

The organizers clearly had not wanted us to miss any chance to do more climbing before we saw a road sign showing the way to Korneuburg was only11 km. Of course our route took us a different way as we needed to ride another long stretch of gravel and then a nasty short climb of perhaps 16% grade through what appeared to be someone's backyard—oh! It was a backyard! Wrong direction! Finding the correct 16% section took us over the top and now, mercifully, we were on the main road from Leobendorf for a fast, flat straight-in ride back to the Hauptmarkt.

Greeting joyfully by those who had arrived before, we happily if sweatily posed for our portraits before receiving a bag which had lots of printed material (promos for retro-rides in Italy, a very good Austrian bike advocacy magazine, bike route maps, tourism information and a nice certificate personally signed by organizer Horst Watzl, the Mayor of Korneuburg and Rudi Metteregger) but, most thrillingly, a bottle of local white wine which made up for the fact that the promised 1400 m of climbing were more like 1800 m. 

 

We had had beautiful weather, fine roads with little traffic, great company and the Austrians are even organized enough that you can take a shower at the end before heading for home. The small team that runs the event has built a total package in a remarkably short time, with community buy-in, enthusiastic sponsors, professional graphics and a useful website. If you register early enough you can enjoy Horst's entertaining build-up e-mail newsletters. They ignored their own rules (no mechanical check to see if you had spare tubes, or time stamp at the controls) because, well, somethings are less important. One had the sense that everyone was there to have fun. The organizers are aware of the dangers of letting an event get too big and lose its charm but I don't think there is much risk of that at IVV.

Getting to Korneuburg and the Weinviertel from Vienna is very easy (almost a suburb of the capital) and for those planning to visit there are excellent wines to sample and a whole range of events around them—even for children! Of course, the area is rich in history and lovely architecture and there is a whole lot more than schnitzel and strudel so be prepared to be charmed at one of the best retro-rides yet.

Riding with my new friend Bernd

For more information, go to www.inveloveritas.at. The attractive website is multilingual.

Book Review: “Wiener Mechanikerfahräder 1930-1980”

 

Vienna: it conjures up images of schnitzel, strudel and Johann Strauss waltzes but a new book from a tradition-rich publishing house in the Austrian capital reveals another aspect of the city now nearly forgotten: the construction of bicycles, often in tiny workshops and to a surprisingly high technical and aesthetic standard.  The book “Wiener Mechanikerräder 1930-1980” confirms its authors’ contention that “Vienna is big but the range of its bicycle manufacturers was once even bigger.”

In 1930 Vienna had more than 100 makes of bicycle and for the next half-century brands would come and go.  The marques in this book, teutonically organized from “Alpenrad” to “Ziel” by the four (!) authors, have been painstakingly researched and the heading of each chapter indicates when the company existed, who owned it, how long the brand was in production, the location of the workshop, whether the firm produced its own bikes or brought in bikes under its own name from elsewhere and sources of information.  The effort to uncover all of these things must have been daunting and indicative of the fanatical obsession of collectors of which the authors are representative.  One of them owns 85 racing bikes.  Reference is made to the “tide of bikes” occupying basements and that during research for the book the authors managed to accumulate 16 more bicycles and eight frames!

 

 

From the number of brands it seems as if pretty much every Viennese bicycle shop must have had its own production as the beautifully-produced volume is over 350 pages in length.  This is understandable perhaps as in the Age of Steel building up a bike was a fairly straightforward tube-brazing operation with components coming from a few large suppliers.  In the winter months the shops could be occupied with production for the coming year.  However, the imaginative Austrians were not limited in their cycling vision and some of the bikes featured here have aluminum lugs screwed into lightweight steel tubes or aerodynamically-shaped tubing or even a leaf spring suspended frame.  There were folding bikes and aluminum children’s bikes and bicycles with jewel-like paint finishes.  It is proper that this book is Volume 2 in the series “Austrian Technical History.”

 

"Wiener Mechanikerfahräder” has a charming, personal touch to it, perhaps because the companies and framebuilders really were so individual.  One is struck by the brand names.   Some, such as “Williams,”  “the Champ,” “Sussex” or “Champion” were meant to convince buyers that they perhaps reflected the glory of English manufacturers.  But a larger group used the names of the builders, usually taking the first two initials of the first and last names.  Hence: BBW (Bruno Beranke Wien); Capo (Otto Cap); Elan (Eduard Lachnit); Er-We (Eduard Reininger); FAB (Fahrradhaus Adolf Blum); FH (Franz Hrabalek); Frado (Franz Dorfinger); Frigo (Friedrich Gollerstepper); Friha (Friedrich Hamedl); Geoga (Georg Gartner); Igro (Josef Grosstab); JoWi (Josef Wilfing); Mipf (Michael Pfeiffer); and so forth. 

 

In addition to the racing bicycles one would expect to find there are plenty of lady’s road bikes, the odd bike used for indoor ball games and some very cool children’s bikes, including one that could alternatively be used as a scooter.  Some of the companies offered a wide product line.  The producers of the “Select” brand, which made its own bicycles from 1947 until at least the 1980s, offered track and road bikes of excellent quality and the book features thirteen of them, including a remarkable bike meant for mountain road racing and built with a split seat tube to allow a very short wheelbase by moving the rear wheel forward, an idea taken up in these later times of composites by others using curved seat tubes.  “Select” enjoy the services of a virtuoso framebuilder, Michael Steinkellner, whose “S” initial was placed on the seatstays.

 

In addition to the excellent full colour photographs of Philipp Horak there are vintage black-and-white photos showing the cycling scene in Vienna in the period covered in the book, with lots of local race meets and local heroes.  The accompanying text is quite interesting as well and often reveals the sly humour of the Viennese.  If you don’t read German you will miss that but the quality of the book and the wealth of photos certainly obviates the need to go for language classes.

 

The old bike hobby is a niche within the greater cycling community, which in itself (at least as far as racing bicycles go) is simply a larger niche.  Upon learning of this book we thought that this must be the most obscure topic that anyone could write about (and we own three books on the history of variable gearing).  French, Italian and English builders have had global fame but, as the book admits, the brands highlighted here were “world-famous in Vienna.”  The book is of very high quality and not inexpensive but the publisher has told us that more than half of the print run of “Wiener Mechanikerfahräder” has already been sold although the book only was published this year.  And of course if you don’t want to shell out the 59 Euros (approx. US$ 83) plus shipping for the book you can order a lovely calendar featuring photographs from it for 19.95 Euros and shipping. 

The subtext of the book is “From Zero to One Hundred to Zero.”  Of the 100 different brands described only one company, Capo, still exists.  Yet there is hope as there is a brief chapter on the brave few framebuilders who are working in Vienna today, including Peter Gross although another, Hans Pöllhuber, who operates a store and workshop, has given up framebuilding himself as uneconomic. 



Many of the builders and brands in the book are known only from a single frame and the authors present a number of mystery frames they have found and invite readers to send them any information about them they might have.  Another personal touch.

 

“Wiener Mechanikerfahräder 1930-1980” might be about an obscure era to anyone outside of Vienna but this book is a true labour of love and a source of great entertainment if you like old bicycles and want to dip into a different world around them.  “World-famous in Vienna” deserves to be just world-famous and would make an excellent gift, ideal for browsing through on those long winter evenings while enjoying a Café Melange mit Schlagobers.

For more information and to order the book or calendar go to:

http://www.wiener-machanikerraeder.at/ or http://www.hollinek.at/

“Wiener Mechanikerfahräder 1930-1980”

by Michael Zappe, Walter Schmidl, Martin Strubreiter and Werner Schuster,

 with photos by Philipp Horak

347 pp, ill. With text in German

ISBN 978-3-85119-342-8

Verlag Brüder Hollinek, Purkersdorf, Austria, 2013

59 Euros, plus shipping

Yet More Heroics: L'Eroica 2013

Italy: land of sunshine, pasta, Fausto Coppi and home of the ultimate retro-ride.  L’Eroica, “the Heroic,” saw its 17^th 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.

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.

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 13^th 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