catbbq
April 11th, 2007, 09:19 AM
Hey gang.
So I got out for my first real ride here in Italy. A guy I work with is an avid mountain biker. Funny thing is, here they ride on real mountains. How come we doing have any moutains in Lowell Dracut? BG, get on that!
Anyway, Monday was Easter holiday, so I headed down to Sestri Levante (http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&hl=en&q=16039+Sestri+Levante,+Italy&layer=&ie=UTF8&z=13&om=1) were a friend of his was running shuttles to the top of Monte Selva. I had to take the train from Milan, so I didn't arrive until 10:30am (they started at 8:30). I met my coworker and we rode to the shuttle area. They were waiting on us for the next run. There were about a dozen total including an 8 year old kid.
The views are incredible, even with the clouds. It is just a few kilometers to coast and you can see everything. Of course the guys I am riding with see this every ride, so no one be me is looking.
The first ride down was fast. It wasn't big drop downhill, but it wasn't nice smooth single track either. Image a washout desending 700 meters down the side of a crusty old mountain. Image dirt bikers riding up the washout. Image tiny pieces of slate just before it is ground into sand. That is what we were riding down. My buddy apologizes because it is his first time riding with this group and the conditions were explained a bit differently to him.
By the end, I was tired, but ready for another go. Only 5 of us went back up for last shuttle run. Ironically, all 5 of us were riding Santa Cruz bikes. I don't even see that many in the U.S.
This time down, "we" choose a different path that takes us into some fast switchbacks through an olive grove. My smile touches in the back of my head because this was what I was looking forward to in Italy. The smile was quickly wiped away.
With a rock.
We get back into the gravel pit like down part and my back brakes are getting gone, so I am depending upon my front a bit too much. Also, I didn't lower my seat quiet as much as I should have and go over the bars. All I can think is "this is going to hurt". And it did. I put my fact into the gravel so hard it snapped off the visor and pulled the webbing out of the helmet. Thank God for helmets.
I roll over, expecting it to be bad. My buddy shows up and I explain I did a face plant. There doesn't seem to be an Italian word for face plant, but perhaps "Americano" will be used from this point forward. Luckily I wasn't actually hurt too bad. My friend said just a small scrape on the side of my face and my knee was quiet bloody, but not overly damaged. My confidence it shot but do make it down the hill.
The shuttle guys are done and go on with their Italian lives. My buddy and I ride down the coast to a small town for lunch of pasta and beer. Then we start up.
And up.
And up.
Now remember, I have only been riding in the greater Boston area for the last couple years, so my up has been about 20 or 30 meters total. We are riding to the top of the mountain next to the one we were just riding down. Thats 700 meters up in about 8 km. Also, there is pretty much my first ride of the season, so I got no legs or lungs.
We finally, finally reach the "top" and there is some nice swoopy single track over the the original peak, but at this point even the small ups of the swoops are too much for me and I end up pushing a few spots.
We arrive back at the area that we were riding from earlier and do the first down that we did earlier. No issues this time.
We hit the coast again and I have 15 minutes to make my train which I just do.
Over all a good ride. Sorry, I was in a rush that morning, so no pictures this time.
So I got out for my first real ride here in Italy. A guy I work with is an avid mountain biker. Funny thing is, here they ride on real mountains. How come we doing have any moutains in Lowell Dracut? BG, get on that!
Anyway, Monday was Easter holiday, so I headed down to Sestri Levante (http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&hl=en&q=16039+Sestri+Levante,+Italy&layer=&ie=UTF8&z=13&om=1) were a friend of his was running shuttles to the top of Monte Selva. I had to take the train from Milan, so I didn't arrive until 10:30am (they started at 8:30). I met my coworker and we rode to the shuttle area. They were waiting on us for the next run. There were about a dozen total including an 8 year old kid.
The views are incredible, even with the clouds. It is just a few kilometers to coast and you can see everything. Of course the guys I am riding with see this every ride, so no one be me is looking.
The first ride down was fast. It wasn't big drop downhill, but it wasn't nice smooth single track either. Image a washout desending 700 meters down the side of a crusty old mountain. Image dirt bikers riding up the washout. Image tiny pieces of slate just before it is ground into sand. That is what we were riding down. My buddy apologizes because it is his first time riding with this group and the conditions were explained a bit differently to him.
By the end, I was tired, but ready for another go. Only 5 of us went back up for last shuttle run. Ironically, all 5 of us were riding Santa Cruz bikes. I don't even see that many in the U.S.
This time down, "we" choose a different path that takes us into some fast switchbacks through an olive grove. My smile touches in the back of my head because this was what I was looking forward to in Italy. The smile was quickly wiped away.
With a rock.
We get back into the gravel pit like down part and my back brakes are getting gone, so I am depending upon my front a bit too much. Also, I didn't lower my seat quiet as much as I should have and go over the bars. All I can think is "this is going to hurt". And it did. I put my fact into the gravel so hard it snapped off the visor and pulled the webbing out of the helmet. Thank God for helmets.
I roll over, expecting it to be bad. My buddy shows up and I explain I did a face plant. There doesn't seem to be an Italian word for face plant, but perhaps "Americano" will be used from this point forward. Luckily I wasn't actually hurt too bad. My friend said just a small scrape on the side of my face and my knee was quiet bloody, but not overly damaged. My confidence it shot but do make it down the hill.
The shuttle guys are done and go on with their Italian lives. My buddy and I ride down the coast to a small town for lunch of pasta and beer. Then we start up.
And up.
And up.
Now remember, I have only been riding in the greater Boston area for the last couple years, so my up has been about 20 or 30 meters total. We are riding to the top of the mountain next to the one we were just riding down. Thats 700 meters up in about 8 km. Also, there is pretty much my first ride of the season, so I got no legs or lungs.
We finally, finally reach the "top" and there is some nice swoopy single track over the the original peak, but at this point even the small ups of the swoops are too much for me and I end up pushing a few spots.
We arrive back at the area that we were riding from earlier and do the first down that we did earlier. No issues this time.
We hit the coast again and I have 15 minutes to make my train which I just do.
Over all a good ride. Sorry, I was in a rush that morning, so no pictures this time.