Giro d'Italia Route Announced Today

It's that magical time of year, folks--like Christmas for cycling fans. Ooh, the Giro d'Italia route for 2013 was just announced. Check out the new graphics! They start in Naples and do a TTT in Ischia! Can't wait to see the overhead shots.

Now if only my local cable company would give my back my Universal Sports! I have until May to convince them! Or to get DISH. Hmmm.

Enjoy, Bike People!

Giro d'Italia: From Orvieto to Fiuggi Terme and A Grand Old Sport

Today's stage is the one we would have attended, staying in Fiuggi Terme, if there hadn't been so many little trips already scheduled this spring. Fiuggi Terme is up in the hills southeast of Rome. There's a bike hotel there, the Hotel Silva Splendid, where they rent you mountain bikes or road bikes, there are 20 different itineraries, and they have one guided ride that dumps you right out at the Colosseum. Fiuggi is a spa town in the foothills of the Appenines, with natural hot springs, and it has quite a few hotels. It has probably been an out of town resort destination since ancient times. The deal to stay there and have VIP access to the finish line was ridiculously cheap. Sigh....

I want to try to describe the effect of watching team Leopard Trek and Tyler Farrar ride in a straight placid line, silent as churchgoers during the peace, crossing the finish line. My husband and I couldn't help but weep to see it.

Cycling is it is quite and old sport, as modern sports go. It reaches back into the Belle Epoque, when in Europe velocipedes became a craze, and in large and small towns velodromes--giant cycling racetracks--were built and filled by cheering fans. During this time someone decided to build a raised bike highway from Pasadena to downtown Los Angeles.  The path of this highway now parallels the 110, the first freeway ever built. We don't have many other sports that hail so strongly from this era, Cycling retains a chivalry that comes from this time, a philosophy of life I associate with my grandfather Kirk Bell, who was born in 1901—a sense of honor and style from before the Great War. This is the spirit in which the riders rode an entire lengthy stage without racing, to give honor to their fallen comrade. This is the heart of cycling that keeps me captivated. It is so much more than a pack of wiry guys in crazy bright spandex pedaling bicycles across ridiculous distances.

In May 2007 my husband and I cycled out of Mira in the Veneto—the area west of Venice--and started in the direction of the mountains.  The closer we got, the more monuments we saw to the dead of both World Wars. The most affecting were those from the Great War. Lone statues in long sweeping coats and rimmed helmets cocked with a rakish look that must be uniquely Italian, facing the mountain passes where so many died protecting their land from invaders.

Maybe it's because the riders stay greyhound lean and ride for hours and hours, wincing through the pain, determined to finish, sometimes in spite of terrible bruises and road rash and, sometimes, broken bones, but they remind me of soldiers. Later this month we'll see them ride the mountain passes where the Alpini soldiers fought those two terrible wars. And along the route will stand the veterans of wars, still wearing their feathered Alpini hats, alongside the current Alpini, in the same hats, but in full camouflage and weapons, protecting the riders and the crowd.

This sport reminds me on a regular basis that one must be willing to fight for the people and things one loves. The riders fight for glory, to prove they can do it, for the pride of their families and towns and countries, in support of their comrades.  And yes, they are paid, but not very well at all, with the exception of a few rock star riders like Fabian Cancellara. And yes, they answer to the sponsors, but the sponsors change almost yearly. They are fighting for something more.

So I'll keep watching this grand old sport, for the pageantry, the drama, the determination to win against great odds, the old-school honor that elevates sportsmanship to the sublime, because it makes me feel proud to be human.

Viva il Giro! Viva ciclismo!

Back in the Saddle Again

Watching the 4th Stage in Italian on RAI now. Their journalists have been interviewing many great men of the sport, including Eddie Merxx, and the man in pink today, David Millar, and they all say, basically, it's a terrible tragedy, but this is a dangerous sport, and this kind of thing could happen any day, everyday in the sport.

But still they ride, these true athletes.  Nobody dies in golf. As the Italians say, "Ciclismo e' una grande passione."

Wouter Weylandt was Tyler Farrar's best friend, and he's gone home today.  He can't take it. He's a sprinter and doing that takes so much focus.  Maybe if he stayed in the race, he might get hurt during a moment of inattentiveness. Continuing would have been particularly hard for him, whose father became a paraplegic after being hit on his bike head-on by a car. His father still cycles, though.

Trying to wrap my mind and heart around all of this. When I ride out on my bike to work every day I take the risk that some distracted amped up L.A. driver might make the wrong move and hurt, maim or kill me. I do all I can to be safe, to be visible.  I wear a helmet, gloves, multiple flashing lights, reflective clothing, but in the end, that may not be enough. I'm still going to ride. Heck, I could die in my bathtub. Life is risky. Might as well do what you love. Leopard Trek is back in the saddle today. Life goes on. The race is beautiful, the landscape lush and full of castles, crashing waves, stately maritime pines, and fortresses built to protect the local people from Barbary Coast pirates. Life can be exquisitely lovely and horrible all at once. And we race on through it, too fast, sometimes, for our own good.

In the meantime, I'd like to personally ask that Universal Sports and RAI please start broadcasting in HD. I want to see every dangerous gorgeous moment of my favorite race in my favorite place in the world.

Forza ciclisti! Viva il Giro!

And as I close this, the entire Leopard Trek team, and Tyler are riding in a line across the road, a formation of silence at the front of the pack, in tribute to their fallen comrade, Wouter Weylandt. Farrar is visibly weeping. No one is racing today. The fourth stage is a funeral cortege. It is one year since Weylandt won the third stage of the Giro.

And the whole team, plus Farrar, comes across the finish. In silence.

It's the Giro!

Stage 3 is on now, and I've been so busy, and on vacation. A week in New Orleans and now a weekend in Mammoth, but this morning, I turned on the TV and there they are, the gladiators of the open road, or i gladiatori, to be precise. And I'm back!

They are headed down from Reggio Emilia to Rapallo, which is just east of Santa Margarita in Ligure. Once I stood on a dock with my Mom in Santa Margarita, having hiked over some pretty darn large hills from Portofino, and a ferry came in, the stevedore shouting, "Rapallo, Rapallo!"

This is Liguria, a smaller narrow province in Northwestern Italy. Most of it is hills and cliffs along the Tirrenian sea, and this makes it its own place. They make wine here, and have for a very long time. Wine made here was found in the ruins of Pompei. Here is the genteel resort atmosphere of the Italian Riviera. Major sites there are Genoa, Portofino, and the Cinque Terre. Much of this area was once linked together only by boat, and in the stormy wintertim, not even by that, so local dialects and food survive. It's a sleepy relaxed place, where you can pay a whole lot to stay right near Berlusconi's villa--lucky you--or not a lot to stay somewhere back in the 19th century. Santa Margarita in Ligure has gorgeous turn of the century homes that look almost Art Nouveau, and others with faux gothic facades. Were they built to copy the Venetian style, or by conquering Venetians? They are simply beautiful. Someday I'll find out.

So if you are pairing food and wine today, have some pesto alla trofie, and some schiachetra, a light local Ligurian wine made in the Cinque Terre, 5 little cliffside towns.

I'm switching back and forth between Italian and Universal Sports TV. How come only the Italians seem to care that someone crashed very badly and they are still trying to get the helicopter to him? I'm watching the helicopter fly over round green hills covered with olive groves and vineyards.

More on this later!

Benvenuti in Giro!

June Gloom

It's June today, and the Giro is finished. Ivan Basso fought like a tiger through the snow in the Alps, and flew across the finish line into the Roman amphitheater in Verona, and into the arms of his adorable children. After two years' suspension and admitting the intention to dope in connection with Operacion Puerto, Basso is back, he's vindicated, and let's face it, he looks handsome. All hail the conquering Italian hero!

Last year's Giro is still my favorite, because of Armstrong's presence, and the route, which favored the most spectacular tourist destinations Italy can offer—from Vesuvius, to the Amalfi Coast, to my beloved Roma. But it was amazing this year to see the Gavia, where Andy Hampsten won with Bobke Roll's support in 1988. And Basso was the first guy I ever saw win this race after falling in love with cycling in 2006. Complimenti, Ivan!

Now begins the long fallow period between this race and the Tour de France. I think Versus is showing the Tour of Philadelphia next weekend. Between now and then I can do some more research on the Low Countries, because like the Giro this year, the Tour starts there. I can pull out my food and wine books on France. I can start to fantasize about biking around the castles and Medieval villages of the Loire Valley. I'll miss the cinematography of the Italians. The French somehow manage to be drier about their coverage—not so many shots of pretty girls or long lingering shots of fancy bikes, shoes, gear. But we'll have the beauty of the helicopter shots—castles, vineyards, beaches. France is gorgeous. And we'll have Phil Liggett, Paul Sherwen, and Bobke Roll at their best, for this is the big kahuna, the fancy dress ball of cycling, and they love it! Aaah, the wondrous cycling grand tour!

And I get a month off! To train for my triathlon, and try to lose weight for Cabo. Saturdays at Zuma beach swimming a half-mile and biking, then boogie boarding and eating with my friends. Working on my running pace, biking up over trash hill in Griffith Park, lap after lap at the San Fernando Valley pool.

Wish me luck! And until the Tour, "Au revoir!"

Stage 19: Passo di Mortirolo

Today is the first of two outrageously difficult mountain stages, which are both famous in Giro history. As I turned on the TV this morning, I saw narrow mountain roads, barely paved, with thick green forest all around, and cyclists in their bright kit rapidly descending. Another beautiful stage, but so different from yesterday! Today and tomorrow are like a one-two punch, and many riders will be knocked out, and the real winner will emerge. Today's stage finishes in a minor ski resort town, hence the picture above.

Watching it in Italian today, because even though I can barely understand what they are saying, they really know what they are talking about, and they are so excited! Sorry, Universal Sports, but your commentators are looking a bit tired and burned out. But the Italian commentators know they are watching the moments of truth, finally, and they are ready for fireworks!

Wow, looks like it could be Ivan Basso, aka The Smiling Assassin, as the Italian press have dubbed him. He looks good. So does Stefano Garzelli, he whose eyebrows are more nicely waxed and sculpted than mine will ever be. And a father of 3. Only the Italians would put the leader of the hardest race in the world in an entirely pink outfit. They have nothing to prove, having minted their own brand of machismo. Maybe they invented it with Romulus and Remus. Or maybe it was those guys in the 300 movie.

At any rate, while I was looking around the internet this morning to find interesting food and drink from this stage's area, I found this cute site for an agriturismo near Lake Como. Humble little farmhouse where they cook for you and serve organic wine. The menu looks amazing, the rooms humble but comfortable. And they have a sweet-looking dog. This is the kind of travel I am coming to love in Italy. Yes, it's easier for me to do it, because I have some halting Italian and understand it well enough to get by, but even if you only speak English, you must have the experience of the real Italian hospitality. The kindness, the generosity of spirit is just exquisite. And the home-cooked food is better than in any restaurant. The pride in Mamma's cooking is unbelievable, and well-deserved.

In Poggio Bustone we got to try a home-made digestivo or after-dinner drink made with gentian root and some other herbs. It came after a 3-course meal that included pasta, meat and an antipasto, all served with home-made unfiltered white wine. The tomato sauce had such delicate flavor, and the hand-made pasta was springy and just chewy enough. This meal was prepared in the fly by someone's Mom. It was delicious. The place had the red and white checkered table cloth that used to be the cliche of New York Italian restaurants. The chairs were plastic garden furniture. The chef also made jams, jellies and jarred pickles. She came out and spoke to us and introduced us to her son and daughter and grand-daughter. Such genuinely welcoming folks!

So as the lions of Italian cycling, Basso, Scarponi, Garzelli and Nibali, turn themselves inside-out climbing mountains, I'm thinking of reason #1 to love Italy—the people.

Forza Italia!

A domani!

Check out the site: Agriturismo Al-Marnich

Stage 18: Along Lago di Garda to Brescia

Too bad it's raining today, because the terrain of this stage is just ridiculously beautiful, in full sun it would be like a dream you had once. 18th century castles, monasteries with campanile topped by the curly gothic cake frosting-like turrets of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. Medieval basilicas. Cyprus trees, piers leading out into the lake. Today you just watch the race for the helicopter shots. It's so pretty, it almost hurts. A lot of it looks like Naboo. And if you don't know what that is, you aren't as big a Star Wars geek as I am. Which is good, because if you were, someone might need to plan an intervention.

This area is midway between Venice and Milan. A lot of the towns around here began as Roman resort towns, and a famous Roman poet, Catullus, had his villa here. This area also had strategic value because it's close to the Brenner pass, which leads up into Austria.

In Lombardia they make a fizzy wine called Franciacorta--see above, and the pastries are supposed to be particularly good--see the columba pasquale above--an Eastertime sweet.

Wow--okay, I just want to be done with this blog post, because this stage is gorgeous! Watch it! They are re-running it on Universal Sports again later. I bet if you visit Lago di Garda you won't find your typical busloads of American tourists in the white sneakers and fanny packs. I bet the shopping is unbelievable.

I know what this landscape looks like to me--the Greek myth part of the movie FANTASIA! It looks like some animator's fantasy of Arcadia. Cue Beethoven's La Symphonie Pastorale!

Oh, my. Just watch it!

Viva il Giro! Viva Italia!

A domani!

Stage 17: Brunico to Peio Terme

Today it's another mountainous stage in the Alto Adige—this time, a road race rather than a mountain time trial like yesterday. It was nice to see Stefano Garzelli take the stage at Kronplatz. He did so well in the Giro last year, and he hasn't been so dominant this year. But then, he is a mountain goat. Evans and Basso seem to be clawing their way to the top. Most of the sprinters have dropped out of the race by now. It's climbers and peaks from now on, all the way to the final day in Verona.

When Mussolini's Italy took over this area from the crumbling Austro-Hungarian Empire, some 90% of the people spoke German, and he tried to force them to learn Italian and encouraged Italian speakers to move in. But about 30% still speak German as their native language, and you can eat Germanic desserts like "kaiserschmarren" above, and drink wine, like the above Alois Lageder Pino Bianco. The grape is familiar, but the style of winemaking will feel more German.

I think in America we tend to think of Italian and German culture as very different from one another, but one thing we know less about is this Alpine culture that crosses the mountains and embraces the multilingual Swiss, the Germans, the Italians and the Austrians of the highlands. Borders have changed so often in this area, that folks must be more likely to identify themselves by their home villages rather than by their country. This is true in most of Italy. The views of this area shows high mountain meadows striped with vineyards and fields of hops. Roofs of the houses here have deep eaves. Wow, this is a pretty stage!

For those just starting to read this blog, yes, the Giro takes 3 weeks! So does the Tour de France and the Vuelta a Espagna. This is the definition of a Grand Tour in cycling—It is 21 days with 2 rest days per week, usually, and it includes time trials, possibly a team time trial, flat days for the sprinters, mountain stages, "cronoscalate" or combination mountain and time trials stages like yesterday's, and circuits. Just imagine how tired the riders are! No sporting event lasts longer, and, in my opinion, requires more endurance! It is brutal, and that makes it exciting.

Someday I'll go snowboarding up there! Can't wait to go someplace in Europe to see what it's like. I'd love to ski Mount Etna, but there are no trees. I bet around Bolzano it's just gorgeous, and the cheese is amazing. Yes, peanut butter is the ultimate mountain super food, and I'm pretty sure they don't have it there, but I'll live.

Viva il Giro! Viva Italia!

A domani!

Stage 16: Plan de Corones Kronplatz

Today's time trial is so high up the mountain that they can't wear the TT helmet, use the aerobars or the solid back wheel. Part of the stage uses an access road for a ski resort--gravel and dirt. Nuts, but wonderful. We are among the highest peaks of the Dolomites, in the region of Italy called Trentino-Alto Adige. Trentino is the southern part. We are in the Alto Adige--the upper part of the Adige river.

Here they still speak Ladino, a German-influenced Latin. Even though we are in high altitude, there is an ancient tradition of winemaking here. It was first introduced by the Greeks, and then the Romans. In the Alto Adige the wines are made by small family producers and are drunk locally or exported over the border to Austria and Germany. As such they are Germanic in style. A typical bite would be Canaderli and Speghetti--speghetti and meatballs with local herbs and spices. One thing we discovered in Umbria is that in the different parts of Italy there are also unique herbs that are used in cooking, and they really do have their own flavors so you would have trouble trying to fake them at home.

No, you can't just buy the same stuff at home. Just like you can't find rainforest orchids growing wild in Griffith Park. It's called terroir, ladies and gents--local unique diversity in product due to unique local earth composition, microclimate, history and culture. And it's one of the most satisfying reasons to travel the world. To try new stuff, meet new folks, get a fresh perspective on life. You never come back quite the same as when you left, and that's a good thing.

To get the sense of the wine style in this region, you can sample some from Bevmo--see below.

Tramin Pinot Grigot at Bevmo

Viva Italia! Viva il Giro!

A domani!

Stage 15: Up to Monte Zoncolan

So I was wrong-yesterday's stage was Stage 14, and today's, a brutal uphill dramatic stage, is 15. There is the face of the Smiling Assassin, Ivan Basso. Always liked that guy, but it's a bummer to watch our Hobbit Cadel Evans is cracking on Monte Zoncolan, which has an average grade of Ouch! Go, Hobbit, Go! What an awesome stage! Basso looks good, and Liquigas is on fire!

So here we leave the Veneto and enter the fascinating region of Friuli Venezia Giulia, where they are strongly influenced by Austrian and Yugoslavian culture. Here you can eat wurst and strudel, as well as polenta--the poor family's savior. Up here they are famous for pig butchery. They slaughter the pig with a ritual, and use every part of it. And let me tell you, every part is yummy! They eat a soup called Yota, made with beans and pork and saurkraut. Sounds good to me right now.

Look at the crowd! The mountain is blanketed with people! Look at the alpini hats! The crowd is just nuts! The Alpini troops are protecting the route!

Oh, and drink the Ribolla Gialla vino—a white single varietal they have been growing up here since the 12th century.

What a finish!

Tomorrow a rest day, and then on Tuesday, a mountain time trial!

Viva il Giro! Viva Italia!

A martedì!

Stage 13: Ferrara to Asolo

I've been so distracted with the Tour of California that I woke up this morning not realizing that today is the Asolo Stage! I have biked here, down from the town--not up a 7% grade to Monte Grappa, as the riders did today, but I've been here. And I've biked here just at this time of year.

A strange thing I remembered yesterday--climbing up the 2-mile hill that wound back and forth to Asolo and as I got slower I could see that wild strawberries were growing out of the stone walls on the right--and they looked ripe. Of course I was up on the pedals just trying to drag myself up the hill and worried that when we were done with this climb, Stoney was going to kill me. It had been our longest day--50 miles, and it was in the middle of a heat wave. But by the end of the day, following our directions on paper inside a plastic sleeve attached to our handlebars, we knew how long a kilometer was in the flats, just by feel.

Before we got to the climb up to Asolo we made our way towards the foothills of the Dolomites through fields, some ploughed, some green, some full of yellow and red wildflowers. On that day we noticed there are field planted with neat rows of young trees--they must be there to break the wind, but they looked surreal. We came across old men on bikes going to churches and weddings in suits. It was Sunday and it was May, and apparently there are many weddings in the Veneto in May.

We'd visited the Villa Emo, a villa designed by Palladio in the mid-1500s, and it's pretty much the first time in house archeticture where you see the modern house--no fortifications, no slits through which to pour hot oil and melted lead. Just a house--but it's based on ancient Roman architectural element, so the main part looks a bit like a temple, but inside the proportions are so comfortable. The frescoes inside are ridiculously beautiful, so it's not that this place isn't an extravagent country house, it's just that we could imagine hanging out there and having a great time. You can visit many Palladian villas in the Veneto. This area was the part of Italy most often ruled by Venice. I say most often because in times past, Venice, Florence and Milan would pass these towns back and forth during times of war.

During this time period the wealthy families of the Veneto built villas in the countryside so they could get out of Venice during the pestilent summer. Now tourists flock to Venice in the summer. So do the mosquitoes. It's much better in the early spring--after the big floods--and the late fall.

Today, have some prosecco. The Bortolomiol bottle above shows the traditional bell-shaped bottle for Prosecco, but you can almost never find that bottle here in the states. If you find a bottle like that, buy it. For the uninitiated, Prosecco is a naturally sparkling Italian wine. It's dry and delicious. Should not be too sweet. Get the Brut-style, which is like champagne, except, in my opinion, is much better!

Or have a spritz--a coctail made with one of 3 possible kinds of bitters, and prosecco, and maybe a splash of club soda, and a slice of orange--blood orange, if you can find it. The 3 bitters are, from sweetest to most bitter: Aperol, Campari, and Cynar. These are all kind of like the bitterness of orange peel, except Cynar is made with Artichokes! All are an acquired taste, but once you acquire it, that bitterness is very refreshing on a hot day. And we had lots of hot days in the Veneto.

Stoney and I did a wine tasting in the Valdobbiadene area, which is one of the two areas where real prosecco is made, and we were greatly surprised to be trying 6 varieties of prosecco that all tasted quite different. They had filled one of each bottle with earth from the region that the grapes were from, and even the color of the earth was different. Those fields of prosecco grapes climbing up cliffs, row upon row upon row.

At every breakfast in the Veneto they had meats and cheeses, and the best cured meat was the speck, which is the leanest and smokiest part of the prosciutto ham. It's called speck, a Germanic word, because it's basically an Austro-Hungarian style of cured ham. It's a great morning pick-me-up before a long day in the saddle.Once Venice lost its Mojo sometime in the 18th century, its territories were often conquered by the Austro-Hungarian Empire, and so in this area, the higher you get into the mountains, the more folks speak a kind of local German. There is also a small area around Cortina (fancy ski resort) where people speak a language called Ladin. Ladin is supposed to be the closest surviving language related to Latin. This area had a pass used by the Romans to get into Germania, and they left this language behind, and then this area was cut off from the rest of the world effectively for thousands of years. This kind of stuff just blows my mind. It's like a real Shangri-La or Brigadoon.

The Veneto is also studded with very moving monuments to the WWI and WWII battles and casualties. It was from the Dolomites that the Italians defended their land against their enemies, and many were lost, and people still live there with memories of battles and devastation we can barely imagine. The Alpini are mountain troops--local soldiers, and they wear hats that, I swear, look like Peter Pan's--with feathers. They are much honored still in annual parades, and Alpini fly into this area from all over the world to be part of it.

Truly a rich and fantastic part of Italy. Don't go there. We want it all to ourselves. ;)

Viva il Veneto!

Viva il Giro! Viva Italia!

A domani!

Stage 12: Along the Adriatic

Today's stage could end in a sprint finish where we are sure to see our friend Tyler Farrar and Garmin hitting it hard.

This is a flat stage, along the lovely Adriatic, which, for much of its modern history was ruled by the Republic of Venice. Venice, so influenced in its heyday of the 11th, 12th and 13th century by the Byzantine Empire. And so, in San Marco--on famous Piazza San Marco, the center of Venice, there are those glimmering gold mosaic tiles, so wonderful at reflecting candle light.

A game I like to play with myself whenever I'm in Italy is to find a monument and project myself back in time to when the monument was built. So in the Pantheon in Rome, I imagine men in togas followed by their retinues of slaves, paying homage to their pagan gods. In Venice, I imagine Casanova in the decadent late duds of velvet, lace and powdered wigs, or Piazza San Marco swarming--like it is today--with people from all over the world. Except I imagine the turbaned turks, the clerics in long red robes and wide-brimmed red hats. Today people complain about the pigeons in St. Mark's square, but imagine it with refuse of all kinds. How did they keep it clean, say, in the medieval era? Venice today is great in the early morning, when workboats full of all of the basics of life--sodas, oranges and other produce, and almost anything else a tourist could need, enter the floating city to refuel it after its night of revelry.

The tour heads into Le Marche, where they drink Verdicchio--a grassy white wine, and where they grow all kinds of cereal crops and have a thriving cattle industry. This area was part of the Medieval and Renaissance struggle between Pope and Holy Roman Emperor that produced the Guelphs and the Ghibellines. They say that Le Marche is a great place to buy yourself a house, now that the Brits and wealthy Americans have jacked up housing prices in Tuscany and Umbria.

But I've driven down from Ravenna through the Appenines, and those mountains are really formidable--high and even the autostrada seem to be winding and perilous. I might need to buy my house in Lazio so I wouldn't have some huge mountains in between me and my beloved Roma.

Yesterday the GC competition blew apart bigtime and most of the top ten are newbie twentysomethings on their first Grand Tour. They will not make it through the mountains. The only seasoned GC guy in range is Carlos Sastre. He was amazing in the mountains last year, particularly on the Vesuvius stage. My money is now on him, although I treasure a bit of hope for our Hobbity Cadel Evans. Would love to see what he can do in the the Dolomites. Can he climb back up from being 11 minutes back? Probably not. It will be awesome to see him try.

Next week is a stage from Ferrara--Italian bike city--to Asolo, which is a gorgeous hill town in the Veneto, and I've been there. Guys in their seventies ride bikes up there every morning, dressed in fancy hideously garish bike kit, and they are in better shape than I will ever be.

Biking to work today. Stopping at a pitstop to maybe win me a Dahon folding bike. They have the coolest machines--one with a front hub that will power your lights, and your iPhone! That one's for me! Wish me luck!

Viva il Giro! Viva Italia!

A domani!

Stage 11: Bike Schizophenia

So this is Bike to Work Week and this morning the Giro stage was pretty exciting, so I only had time to get my bike and bike outfit ready, pump the tires, oil the chain and get on the road. So no morning stage pairing.

Tomorrow the stage winds up along the Adriatic from Lucera in Puglia to L'Aquila. Lucera was the last stronghold of Muslims in Italy in the 13th Century, before they were thrown out. At the time, most of the farmers were Muslims and so once they were gone there was a deadly famine there. Score one for diversity and karma being a naughty naughty girl. Saffron is a big export of Lucera, as it is in most parts of the Mediterranean where Arabs have held sway.

For wine I chose a Copertino, a lovely Pugliese red, and a wonderful kind of vegetarian lasagna, called Tiella della Suocera--mother-in-law casserole. It's potatoes, tomatoes, eggplant, cheese. What could be bad?

Looking at the list of wines officially recognized in Puglia could make you dizzy. I haven't mentioned yet this year, but I need to do it--in Italy there are some 3500 different species of grapes used to make wine. 3500 that they know about. This number is shrinking as more big consortia buy out the little guys and reduce the number of kinds of grapes that are grown, but you have to think that somewhere a grandfather is passing vines on to his granddaughter or grandson, and those species are going to live on in someone's local backyard vino.

Another thing I need to mention this year is this, wherever you are, just order the house wine. It's better than anything else. And it may come out of a spigot in the wall. It may be unfiltered, but it is magic. Cheap and good. You don't need to eat fancy food in Italy, because the best food is what Mamma makes, and where the Carabinieri eat. If you are fancy and need to go to fancy places, maybe you should stay in the USA, or go to France. But in Italy there's no reason to spend money like that to have an awesome dining experience. And why spend a lot? You already spent a lot just getting there! Try the walking around pizza, the panino in the case, the fried rice balls stuffed with mozzarella. Or if you must sit down to eat, just order the appetizers. They are the best thing on the menu anyway. There's that rant done.

L'Aquila, tomorrow's finish line city, had a devastating earthquake in 2009. One of the major Italian cycling teams had "Abruzzo" stamped onto their uniforms and donated a portion of their proceeds--such as they were--to rebuild the town last year. The picture above shows how terrible the damage was. George Clooney moved the production of a film he was working on in order to help L'Aquila out. Italy loves George Clooney. And he loves it right back!

L'Aquila was the second city of the Kingdom of Naples, which for many years in the Middle Ages and the Renaissance and Baroque eras was ruled by Bourbon kings. When it wasn't ruled by relatives of the Spanish royal family. When a King of Naples died, the Pope decided who should next get the crown. Which made the Pope even more powerful than you would think the Pope would be. Because he was, after all, the Pope. This network of royal families all vying to dominate parts of Italy is just fascinating to read about. It's a soap opera on a grand grand scale!

Watching stage 10 as I write this. Lots of fans out on the course today. RAI is doing its thing and showing the faces of pretty local girls in between shots of pedaling skinny guys. It's a different experience watching it in Italian. You don't get the real sense of the race if you only watch the American feed. I love the clips of folks waiting and partying at the finish line in their silly hats and outfits. Yes, I'm a cycling nerd. Deal with it. The peloton pushes forward through rolling fields of olive trees.

So in the Giro the leader in each jersey competition at the start of each stage gets a girl--very hot--wearing a dress in the color of that jersey and carrying a parasol in that color to shield him from the sun as he waits for the stage to roll out. This makes for some nice looking TV pictures. My husband likes that.

Bike to Work Week, the Giro d'Italia, and the Tour of California, all in one week! This is bike schizophrenia. Maybe next year I take a staycation on this week to deal with all my biking commitments!

Viva il Giro! Viva Italia!

Oh, and Go, Levi Leipheimer and Team Radioshack!

A domani!

Stage 10: Avellino to Bitonto

Tomorrow's stage takes the riders from the Tirrenian sea above Paestum to the Adriatic in Puglia. In the ancient world this entire area was a colony of Greece and so in Paestum there are ancient Greek temples, and the food, culture and music are still strongly influenced by Greece. But after the Roman empire fell, first the Lombards and then the Normans conquered these lands and exploited the local people.

Nowadays they grow lots of wonderful produce in Puglia--tomatoes, peppers, olives. And Bitonto is famous for its olive oil.

For this stage, have a calzone--a doughy turnover with veggies on top and cheese in the middle, and a glass of Primitivo--a simple but delicious IGT wine from Puglia. Or, if you can get it, try some sea urchin.

Viva il Giro! Viva Italia

A domani!

Chocolate and Barolo in Piemonte

Today is the Team Time Trial from rainy Savigliano to Cuneo. Cuneo has been a big cycling town and, in fact was a destination in last year's Tour de France and part of the reason Alejandro Valverde, who was banned from cycling in Italy, could not do the Tour last year. From the sky Cuneo reveals its orderly grid, which leads me to believe it has a history as a Roman outpost and trading town, sitting on a road leading through the Alps into France.

Getting sunny in Cuneo now, and Cadel Evans' team hangs on to first place. British Team Sky is still out on the course, though, and Garmin hasn't even started. Garmin has something to prove today, since their General Classification contender, the unfortunate and charming Christian Vandevelde, broke his collarbone and had to abandon the Giro for the second year in a row on the third stage. Which is so sad! Get better fast, Christian!

Tomorrow's stage is still in Piemonte, the most northwesterly region of Italy, and the most influenced by French culture and language. Folks from Piemonte often roll their 'R's in the back of the throat just like the French, and the closer you get to the border, the more towns have two names--one in Italian, and one in Piemontese, which is more colored by French. The city of Turin is a good example--'Turin' is the Piemontese name, and 'Torino' is the Italian name. Which can create confusion for us English speakers.

Tomorrow's stage finishes in Novi Ligure, which has its own chocolate factory! In almost any Italian airport, they sell gianduiotto, which is soft chocolate and finely ground hazelnut candy in a distinctive triangular cross-sectioned shape. Pick up a box to bring home to your friends. It's usually a bit darker and less sweet than the flavor of Nutella. We can thank Piemonte for this kind of chocolate, and this region still does well selling it to the rest of the world. Yes, it's my second day to suggest a chocolate pairing with a stage, but don't worry, there's more variety to come. And today's wine is Barolo, so how bad could it be? Barolo is the priciest Italian wine these days, because of its huge flavors and ability to be nicely aged for years. And it comes from Piemonte, where the uber-expensive white truffles are also found.

Someday I want to go to the truffle festival in Alba, which is in the early fall, and watch fancy restauranteurs from around the world haggle for massive funghi. Imagine the aromas! The ferragamos and fancy cashmere sweaters! The truffle shaved over my pasta! The local prices on Barolo! Ahhhhhhh.....

Team Sky is approaching the finish line for the TTT, and it looks like they might take the lead and win today. The Brits should be proud! It's close! But they have it! If they hold onto this, I think it's Bradley Wiggins in Pink at the end of today, and Sky will have to work hard to hold onto it. They have been looking so strong, so it would be awesome to watch them try.

Viva il Giro! Viva Italia! A domani!

Watch Novi Chocolate Ad

Buy Barolo at Bevmo

Stage 3: Under the Middleberg Sun

Turned on the TV this morning and there were 2.5k to go! Nice sunny finish in lovely Middelberg. The town makes me think of the THE STUDENT PRINCE starring Mario Lanza. Wasn't that set in Middelberg, a university town? No, that was Heidelberg, Germany. The pink confetti drifts down over the head of the GC leader. Sunshine makes all the difference and Middelberg is a series of postcards. I don't like this guy, but I like that he speaks so many languages.

Tomorrow will be a rest day as the race moves back to Italy--to Piemonte for the Team Time Trial, which is a beautiful kind of stage, and I can't wait. A certain number of riders from each team must finish together, so they travel in flocks wearing their matching kit, taking turns on the front and peeling off in formation. Any grand tour without a Team Time Trial is missing something.

The stage will be 30-something k and will finish in Cuneo, where they make a rum-filled chocolate called cuneesi al rhum, shown above. I would try this with a nice dessert wine from Piemonte--red and slightly fizzy, Brachetto. Drop some strawberries into a glass. Yum!

Buy Brachetto d'Aqui from Bevmo

A domani!

Giro Stage 2: Amsterdam to Utrecht

Waiting for the Italian feed to start, but I know who won today's stage. No spoilers, but I'm psyched.

L.A. seems to have caught gray from Amsterdam this morning, but hopefully it will burn off so Stoney and I can take a ride somewhere under bluebird skies. We're thinking of checking on the progress of the L.A. River extension southward. I think they are planning to make it so you can ride from Griffith Park all the way down to Long Beach without hitting surface streets. Could be great for commuters. One way from Griffith Park to Long Beach is about 35 miles, and you can do it on a bike every year in a big fun group at the L.A. River Ride. There are longer and shorter ride options, and your entry fee raises money for the Los Angeles County Bicycle Coalition, which, among other things, advocates for bike safety with local legislators. Anyone who rides our mean streets with regularity knows this is a good thing. The ride is well-supported and a cool way to tap into L.A.'s cycling community.

More info on the LA River Ride, June 6, 2010

It's happened, that first Giro Italian feed moment--they cut from faces waiting by the finish line to a shot through an open window at some fancy ladies undies drying on a rack. I didn't watch the English version, but I'm pretty sure they cut that out.

Yesterday we saw the Leonardo exhibit and a special lecture about it up at the Getty Center. Very cool. Can't believe it's possible to go up close to the Master's drawings. To look at the lines, the ink and chalk put there by his hand. Amazing. Most folks think that drawing of a bike found in one of his notebooks is a hoax put there later, perhaps by a cycling fan, which is kind of too bad.

Can you tell I'm underwhelmed about Amsterdam? I'm writing about everything else. OK, I'll look up Utrecht and see if there's anything I found interesting. An art supplies company appears at the top of the Google search. Makes sense--northern center of trade, very rich in the 1500s and the centuries after--lots of demand for fancy decorations in houses, aka paintings, by great artists, and a place where you could find the finest raw materials to make the most vivid pigments.

I look up to see a windmill at around 70k to the finish line. Picturesque. Good setting for landscape paintings. I would love to bike there someday. Nice and flat, flat, flat! The peloton looks fresh and frisky--happy to be out there, for the most part. Guys doing what they've trained so hard to do. Best in the world. It's fun to watch them chat with each other over the long winding days of riding. Folks who aren't fans of the sport may not know how important relationships and alliances are in the peloton. This is why George Hincapie, who is so likeable and cool, and as strong as a dray horse, is a truly great rider.

This land between Amsterdam and Utrecht really is pretty and pale green, cute with cottages, canals and rivers everywhere. Basic landscape like the first day of our bike ride through the Veneto--around Mira to Villa Mallatesta. Very different architecture, but canals like this. The first night there we ate tiny crabs and shrimp fished out of the canals on a bed of polenta. Mira and Dolo are lesser known parts of the Veneto, but definitely worth a trip. If you're ever in Riviera del Brenta, try the spritz, which is Prosecco and some kind of bitter liquor--choose from Campari, which is medium bitter, Aperol, which is sweeter, and Cynar, which is the most bitter and weirdly cool, because it's made with artichokes. There I go again, wishing I and the Giro were in Italy, where we seem to belong. What am I going to do if they do the first few stages in Washington, D.C. next year? Aside from fly there and stay at my sister's so I can watch it?

One rider, Edward King (?) fell earlier, tearing his shorts, and is riding, bare-assed, to Utrecht. Those modern housing units in Houten are damn un-pretty, I must say. Yeesh! And now for some Fausto Coppi stock footage! And this year's silly theme song. "Pedala! Non fermati mai..." Tyler Farrar crashed on some road furniture. Lots of crashes. Garmin is pulling Farrar back up to the front. And another crash, Katusha rider, and no teammates in sight. That sucks. Watching Farrar hold onto the team car as the mechanic fixes his bike--driving and riding. Always amazes me. Massive crash! Look at the bikes completely intertwined. This is the crashiest day I've seen in a long time. Rough day for Bradley Wiggins from Britain, in pink, on the first British team ever. Team Sky is pulling him back up to the front.

By the way, Wikipedia has some lovely photos of canals in the historical center. Italy has industrial complexes like the one they're showing now in the helicopter shot. But it also has pasta and bruschetta. Just sayin.' We went through an area like that on the way to Bassano del Grappa in 2007 in a heat wave. Why is there always a heat wave when I go to Italy? What's up with that?

Pictures above, by the way, are Utrecht circa 1890, Amstel bottlecap, and kroketten, which is deep fried mystery meat and, I'm told, delish.

Happy Mother's Day, everybody! Makes me think of going to the Clam Broth House in Hoboken every year for the event. Sawdust on the floor. Little neck steamed clams, crab claws, and my mom eating the yuckiest parts of a 2-lb lobster with impeccable grace and style. Love you, Mamma! How could they close the Clam Broth House? It was Ole Blue Eyes' favorite. And there was a rock bar next store called Boo-Boo's where you could have steamers with your rockabilly and beer. Now that's a pairing!

20k to go, and Team Sky is driving the peloton. This part of Utrecht looks like Newark. (Paradise on the Passaic.) If you're gonna live someplace that grim, you should get to have bike paths along every road. That almost evens it out. Sorta.

I'm hungry now, and I want an egg, bacon and cheese croissant sandwich from Café Tropical. Wrong but right.

Yesterday at the Getty I saw at least 5 books I have to read. Christopher Hibbert's The Borgias--love that guy; such an entertaining popular historian. Too bad he's gone. Can't wait for Showtime's show about them starring Jeremy Irons. Love the Tudors.

Inside 10k, massive massive crash, including Pippo Pozzato, Italian national road champion. Doctor checking him out. Who planned this effin' route? It's frickin' dangerous. This kind of crap is why the riders protested and went "slow" in Milan last year. Guess the Giro planners didn't learn from that. Seriously, guys, this ain't Ancient Rome and we don't need to see our gladiators die on the open road. It's only day 2 and look at all the carnage.

OK, so final sprint and Tyler Farrar won. Petacchi was nowhere to be seen in the first group. Cadel Evans in pink, and I bet he's wishing Hincapie was not doing the Tour of California this year. He could use him now because he's wearing pink too early. Gonna be tough to hang onto it, and it's going to tire out his team, which is already one man down. Maybe they'll strategically let it go tomorrow. No one's gonna help his team out on the front.

Makes us mad when there are so many crashes, but today did not disappoint!

Tomorrow, it's Amsterdam through Rotterdam to Middleberg, and what may be the flattest stage ever in the Giro. Look for the sprinters to rule the day. Maybe our friend Tyler Farrar can pull a double-header. Nice strategic work by Jonathan Vaughters, director sportif of Garmin!

A domani!