On the road with Italians

Unfortunately, today has come to an end. After a perfect day, it's hard to imagine ever having another such day. First, here's the data to establish the facts. Read on to get the insider info on experiencing a true Italian bike ride!

The Day in Data

Time: 04:52:47 Distance: 121 km Elevation Gain: 3,562 ft Calories: 4,152 C

Map:

Elevation data (look at how the ride ends!) The really big hump is riding to Montefalco (home of a great winery) out of Bevagna:

The Day as it Went Down

The ride today is a challenge to capture in words, but I'm going to try. It's too cool of an experience for you to not hear how it went down. (Read when you have time!) First, this ride happened as a result of my meeting Daniele on the road a couple of days ago. He invited me to this one. The txt msg that I got last night told me to be at a coffee shop around 8am this morning. Uh oh, no way were my shoes, arm warmers or knee warmers going to have time to dry from yesterday! Can it possibly be warm enough at that hour to consider riding? I woke up before the alarm this morning, so excited to go on a group ride (I live for group rides). A glance out my window showed blue sky, the promise of a nice day.

Getting to al Bar

Turns out the sunny, cloudless sky at my place in Perugia didn't last long. Why? This place is so high, it was above the clouds. The descent was fairly humid-cold, and there was no way to see much of anything in the thick fog (nebbia). I made a major beginner error: I started riding before the GPS could pick up the satellites so I got started on the wrong road (in my disorientation with the fog) and it took a few wrong turns before making it to where I thought I was supposed to go. Considering how much Italian I know right now, I couldn't just call Daniele for directions. Long story short, we met up and he rode me over to where the group ride was going to begin.

The Ride
For starters, I didn't know what this ride would be all about. Remember, I don't speak enough Italian to know the right words surrounding riding bikes. It's a big group of mostly older/more settled guys who have a good level of endurance (no crazy racer types except for Daniele and maybe one or two others). How far were we going to go? For some reason, I assumed it would be the standard 3 hour, 50-60 mile route. I'd had a decent breakfast, but not nearly enough food on me for the 75 mile fast-paced ride (though it had lulls in places, there were also times of severe intensity...the rollers are absolutely brutal, also).

Immediately, it was obvious the guys were cool with having me with them. They were all very friendly and we exchanged a few words: "Ciao" and "Come va?" Daniele was awesome to make sure I was doing okay and that everything was "va bene" (going well). As the ride progressed, the conversations were longer and a bit more involved. They were all really sweet and seemed particularly protective of me. Sometimes on the hills, they'd push me up (even if I wasn't sweating it), they were just offering a friendly gesture. Considering they were all in full leg warmers and jackets, they kept wanting to know if I was too cold (freddo). Honestly, it wasn't that cold out there, but the very thin wind-breaker I had with me was perfetto and worn most of the time. It took a couple of hours for the fog to burn off and a toasty warm sun was behind it. 

I'm so glad I have a story. There are the standard questions I am asked consistently: where are you from? Colorado? Ah, Colorado is very beautiful! Why are you here? Where do you live? How old are you? What do you do for a living in the US? I think I'm answering these with perfect ease at this point. I explain the family roots, family who live here now, where my family is in the US and who they are, all that. Every time I mention Bevagna, everyone perks up. It's such a little-known place to tourists, I think, and it has some sort of place in the locals hearts out here.

The ride today took us through Bevagna (not into the walled portion). It was pretty darn awesome, as we were flying past the home of my great grandfather, to be able to point and tell the guys its significance. They seemed to care. 

A note about this group (and I'm guessing this is your standard cross-section of the bike rider population): they were really warm and friendly and very talkative with each other. I was drinking in the Italian conversations, the beauty of hearing this banter, very happy, sonorous banter, almost continually throughout the insanely gorgeous Umbrian countryside.

As you read this, you might be making certain assumptions as to why they were so nice to me. Here's some food for thought: when another large group of bike riders met up with our group (wearing very different team clothes), it was awesome the kinship and brotherly love shown between everyone. At one point, there must have been 4 pairs of guys with their arms on each other's shoulders, everyone happy to see each other and unafraid of touching each other. More massive amounts of Italian flying between different parties. More people saying hi to me, too. People are simply more into showing affection and touching each other, in general, here (probably common amongst most non-US cultures). It's something I've had to get used to, but I like it so much more than the cold stay-outta-my-personal-space-or-I'll-sue-you culture found in much of the US.

Early in the ride, Daniele suggested I jump on his wheel. I do as I'm instructed when I don't know the words for putting up a reasonable argument. Off we went on a break from the group. The group chased and one guy counter-attacked. At that point, I attacked and dropped him. The entire group absolutely fell apart in laughter. That was was the thing to do to be "adopted" by these guys. Daniele beamed with pride since he had brought me to this ride. (As an aside, Daniele is far stronger than I and a few of the guys climb better than me.)

I'm wondering when I should break out my secret weapon: swapping out these really heavy puncture-less tubes for standard road tubes. Next weekend and the weekend after are local Gran Fondo races that I will probably participate in...so I'd better do it soon! Or not and save it for a "special occasion" in mid-summer when I'm fitter/stronger. Here's a shot of the group.

They mentioned frequently something about eating (different conjugations of "mangiare"). I figured we'd stop fairly soon for espresso. After thinking harder about what they were saying, they had been asking me if I had eaten anything, did I have enough calories to survive this ride? Short answer is no.

We did end up stopping once with about 40km left to go for a quick cafe, water bottle fill up and a little photo op. I picked up a teeny-little "jar" of Nutella for additional calories. The cute little spoon that comes with the espresso was perfect for spooning out the Nutella. The guys wouldn't allow me to pay for anything.

This is me with one of the guys--he went far out of his way to ride me home after the group had split up. He also knows a little English, enough that I could ask him to help me say things properly in Italian and get translations for some words. 

On a ride where I probably burned 3-4,000 calories, I ate about 300. That's how "bonk" is spelled. I would love to know the Italian word. In fact, they might have a few, just like Eskimos have multiple words for snow. The rollers really make the miles take longer and feel harder. So does the oxygen.

The Reward

After the long climb up to home (sooo close to falling off of the bike at that point), I immediately hit my favorite gelato place. Four scoops of gelato--each of a different nut flavor...there had to be some good protein in that! Went to a happy park that overlooks the city, ate it and reflected on everything. Then went home and made gnocchi.

See the little Nutella jar in the upper right-hand corner? Awwww how cute. Bimbo Nutella (bimbo means very young child in Italian).

All of this by only 3pm. The events of the rest of the day involved studying, taking a nap while basking in the sun on the stairs of the cathedral, going to church, having a dinner of eggs, veggies, black rice all mixed up together--no it doesn't have a name, and getting my new roommate: girl from Toronto, fluent in Italian, she's here on a 1-way ticket (Italian boyfriend) and she seems really cool to me.

One last note before I sign off: I think I am beginning to understand how immersion works. I could understand significantly more dialogue today than at this time last week. I'm using church as a good measuring stick since they pretty much always say the same thing and they tend to ennuncicate properly. All of the chit-chat on the bike forces me to listen intently to every sound and become more comfortable talking since I have no choice but to respond when they say something.

It's reasonable to call the ride today doing my homework. It's the most fun homework I've ever had.