Ok, so a semi cliche start to the post today, but why the fuck not, I am in Italy! And even though its technically 4.35am according to my body clock as I write this with a million typos, I am still massively pumped to be here.
Pretty straightforward getting here thanks to SQ’s direct flight to Milan… My only warning is to warily approach the movie ‘To the Wonder’, I foolishly watched it as it had Rachel McAdams in it, unfortunately it turned out to be mega weird and artistic, as well as mildly depressing, basically no one speaks in the movie… was a film of last resort as I couldn’t watch GI Joe again.
With impeccable timing Clarso arrived 3 mins before I walked out the door of the airport and into the glorious Italian morning sunshine. Job one was to jam my reduced load into the Euro soccer mom wagon so we could get rolling:
Right, with the Clarsomobile stacked, we were off! Italy road trip time… Er… Not quite. Appears that Italian carparks aren’t that user friendly or easy to exit… I will spare the details that had us reversing, running, sweating and cursing, but 5 attempts and some time later we were free and ready to roll! Trento here we come.
Along the way we encountered another learning (it was a day of personal development)… Once you get off an Italian Autostrade (what a cool name for a highway), it turns out that they are fucking hard to get back on to. I assume that this is to save money on building on ramps, but google maps was happy to rejoice at our lengthy stint on a secondary road that snaked its way over, under, next to and all around the autostrade we wanted to be on. Usually this would be tantrum material, but we are in Italy and were heading in the right direction, so all good.
We arrived in Trento to 33.5 deg heat and everyone pretty much kicking it around town on a Saturday, case in point:
Off to registration for the Gran Fondo and it became apparent pretty quickly that the vibe here was about loving cycling, which was pretty cool as I fucking LOVE cycling, so it was hard not to feel excited about being around a town that was being taken over by cyclists. Also very cool that motorists here don’t want to try and run you over all the time, a good change. Here I am with a goofy grin on my face like a teenager that’s just been given a new iProduct with no parental controls:
Finally I was in a place where my T Rex arms fitted in, but looking at the assembled crowd of brothers and it was clear that I was in the fatty category… There are some skinny mofo’s here and with 4000m of climbing tomorrow who can blame them? Job one was to fix our registration dilemmas . Clarso and I had been entered in the ‘Cycling Tourist‘ category (or CT as its called, not hard to fill in the two missing letters to correctly describe the group)… a fact that made Clarso dry wretch and break out in a cold sweat. With a focused looked of death he hunted out Luca and moments later we were upgraded and given new race numbers… Sorted.
Then it was time to ride and dust off the cobwebs. Time for me to stop ranting (as I am super tired) and let the photos do a better job at conveying the awesomeness:
This was the start of the final 18km climb for tomorrow… Fart noise. Not a bad view though:
Being a Rapha model required me to get a quick shoot in:
Although, hard to compare to the Clarso road bike descending masterclass, check out the FORM:
Realising we had made big enough cocks of ourselves by doing photo shoot loops it was time to head back to town for a traditional post ride Gelato and Espresso:
Before I was arrested by the Rapha fan boy fashion police, it was time to get back to base and commence bike faffing and general prep for what will be a brutal day tomorrow, especially if its 33 degs again. I suspect I may have to dictate tomorrow’s update if the first 2km’s of the final climb are anything to go by!
I shall depart in my exhausted state with a standard Italian town square tourist photo, comes equipped with standard massive fuck off fountain:
Go hard. You are in heaven