My Italian job - A Giro of Gargantuan Proportions

Well the adventure started at Birmingham airport when a shed load of 10 year old Pontypool Rugby Juniors climbed aboard the plane and the ones behind us decided to let rip with a thunderous fart which curdled my coffee.
 
Fairly uneventful flight, but found upon landing that Nibali had screamed through the 19.45km that was the uphill time trial stage 18 of the Giro d’Italia. Chapeau Vincenzo, you are doing your country proud. Unlike that is, the complete dickhead that is Danilo De Luco, ‘the killer’ has effectively snuffed out his cycling career - facing a lifetime ban after being found positive for drugs! AGAIN!

Enough is enough, lifetime bans all around are the only way to go, and the only way that is going to eradicate this disease.

Milan Bergarno airport, Hertz rental – “Sorry mister Ward you cant drive because your fax from DVLA confirming you have lost your driving licence has not been received” Jayne you’ll have to drive. An hour later after a nerve shredding journey on the motorway, I decided I would rather take my chances with the law by driving myself, insured or not.

It wasn’t that hard driving on the “wrong side” of the road, I only shot across 2 junctions the wrong way, and managed a great emergency stop at an island when I was about to go left instead of right.

Italy, specifically the Manerba area was serene in the spring sunshine. Gilberto (my friends dad, who owns the place) took us to our apartment and with the aid of google translate on the phone, told us what was working and what wasn’t. It didn’t matter that the gas heating wasn’t, as the weather was so mild we were sure not to use it.

While sampling the local fare at a nearby pizzeria the mother of all thunderstorms raised its head over the adjacent dolomites and proceeded to drown the town. Temperatures dropped and our night’s sleep was anything but, because of the rapidly forming icicles on our noses.

Up at about noon, feeling a bit despondent – A quick hot shower thawed the mood. Unfortunately the weather was appalling.

It was no different in the mountains where stage 19 was cancelled due to heavy snow and torrential rain. It was the right decision because the descents would have been suicide!

I drove us down to the banks of Lake Garda to find a ghost town. Everything apparently shuts at 1pm. Do these Italians not do lunch? We ended up having a burger and chips take away, after which, we retired to our beds with books. Only surfacing around 7pm. I’m not complaining, the relaxation was wonderful, but it was hardly a taste of Lombardy. (Incidentally, “7 Deadly Sins” by David Walsh is a must read book. Not just for the hatchet job on Armstrong but the extent of the drugs problem throughout sport as a whole.)

Talking of a tast of Lombardy - straight out at 7.30 for Red Wine, Calamari and roast veg - much more like it.

Up early on Saturday to drive up the coast of Lake Garda and then doubling back towards Manerba del Garda; a larger town on the southern shore of the Lake. A little wonder around the town and a great pizza lunch among the Ferraris and Lamborghinis in the spring sunshine lifted our spirits. I was desperate to find a place showing the Giro, and this town wasn’t it, luckily on the way back I found a bar in Manerba which had a big screen. Google translate on, I proceeded to ask the bar staff if they wouldn’t mind putting the Giro on.

Couldn’t have been more accommodating. They must have been impressed that a British Red Neck in the middle of no where actually cared about the result of their national race, and what’s more was cheering for Nibali. (I did have money on him)

And what a race it was, Nibali won by nearly a minute after an awe inspiring solo effort in atrocious conditions - tactics which came straight from the Eddie Merckx’s text book. Numerous attacks folded under the strain of climbing Passo Giau and the white out conditions, but Niabli bided his time and struck when all around were falling away.

Sky rider Uran came in a creditable third, but Cavendish lost his Red jersey to Nibali. For Cav (Who suffered more than I have ever seen him) it wasn’t all bad news, he should be able to get that back tomorrow when the Manx Missile arrives in Brescia at roughly 45 mph. And the Yellow Jerkey himself will be there resplendent in CCCP Tour de Farce regalia to welcome him.

As long as the GC order remains (which it should) Nibali, Uran, Evans, then I have two of the top three on my betting slip and the Yellow Jerkey will be celebrating alongside the jubilant Italians.

Bike Porn and stacking it on the Telegraph

Giovanni Visconti took Stage 15 in dramatic style, in fact in a style reminiscent of Pantini himself, riding at the front taking the Telegraph in his stride then suffering to the max on the Col du Galibier. Nibali retains pink after some shadow boxing with other GC contenders on the final climb. My heart felt commiserations goes out to Domenico Pozzovivo, the diminutive climber from AG2R - he had felt the full force of the curse of my betting strategy - yes I bet on him for this stage, and he promptly stacked it on the Telegraph and could only get back on to the main peloton nursing cuts and bruises.

Great finish though, in absolutely atrocious weather conditions and I'm still hopeful for Cavendish for the points jersey although there have been rumours on twitter about him not finishing the race. Come on Cav, without Wiggo I need someone to cheer in Brescia!

Anyway the CCCP were out in not so full force, Happy Moorey went solo later on, while the Yellow Jerkey and Chesh sent off on a 50 miler through Lichfield and beyond. We took in some of the biggest hills around here, but because Chesh can get a bit competitive, and I've been known to, it turned into a bit of an ass kicking competition in parts. Quads were burning like hell by the time I got home, but it turned out to be a great ride, toughest and hottest of the year so far. BTW I highly recommend Mammoth cycle shop at Milford for coffee and carrot cake at £2 - good coffee at that. Can anyone beat that?

While I was waiting for Chesh I was bored and decided to do an impromptu photo shoot of my trusty steed - sexy little number called Sharon, shown below.

Quella attracting bike store partners

You have got to give this guy credit, starting from scratch in a chicken shed or some other farmyard building, Mark Langley builds fixed gear bikes. Bloody good fixies that are not only functional but are fast becoming a bit of a fashion accessory. I for one am unashamedly waiting for my free sample model to review under solemn oath that I will return it. (Yeah right) Quella is fast becoming the de riguer of not just the commuter fraternity with people using them for training sportives and even track I believe. And national retailers are queuing up to stock em - Anyway click HERE to read the full story.

Victoria Pendleton's legs, Wiggo's tribulations and Happy Moorey's climbing boots

"When you were young do you remember pretending to be someone while you played a sport? And is it wrong to still do it? Today im out on the bike with the cccp so I'm going to shave my legs and be Victoria Pendleton."

This was this mornings facebook comment, meant entirely as joke. I don't have a perchance for appearing as a female olympian but I will admit to shaving my legs occasionally, although its a bit of a chore considering the work required - see photo!
The response I had from the comment was interesting and at the same time disturbing.

Anyway the CCCP did a quick 50 over to Ironbridge Gorge and back this morning and anyone who knows Ironbridge will know why its called a gorge! And to the amazement of the squad, Happy Moorey's training paid off and he managed to get up that monster hill without getting off for the first time ever! Another first was the appearance of "Motorbike Mike" on a hybrid, but showed good form - when he gets his roadie he'll see a massive jump in performance.

This occurred to a back drop of Wiggins hanging on by his nails trying to keep in contention at the GIRO. Lead home by his squad, he had to make up nearly a minute to get back into the Maglia Rose group, but nearly lost it on the descents. His fall this week seems to have knocked his confidence and the rest of the peleton know it - pushing on at the front to inflict as much pain as possible, both going up and descending! My money wagered on Wiggo looks like going the same way as most of my other bets, but I'm taking heart in the fact I will be able to actually see my money being lost live in Brescia on the final day!

5 members of the CCCP Squad this morning, Happy Moorey, Scissorhand John, Motorcycle Mike, Chesh, and The Little Bear:

Rejoice for I have wealth beyond your wildest dreams

Forget the riders of the past that who have broken collarbones and legs, dismiss the horses that have fell at the final hurdle, take no notice of the Sagen photo finish loss at the San Remo.... I have won a bet at long last! Cavendish is responsible for increasing my personal wealth to the handsome tune of £6.50 from a £10 bet. Well done Cav, I shall be toasting you with a pint and bag of crisps.

Quella - the man, the machine

I'm not talking unemployment cheque

The GIRO, its exploded into a miriad of colour and excitement, the raw gladitorial combat of a Cavendish victory in the sprint, the artistry of SKY's team time trial, the brash arrogance of Ryder Hesjedal's series of attacks, the coolness of Wiggo, its all been thrown up in the air fantastically by a number of unjustified attempted breakaways grabbing the glory at the front. The sight of an euscadel rider  chasing at the front of a breakaway with half a dozen bottles down the back of his shirt was a treat! His team car had decided that the breakaway was going to be caught so ladened him him down in anticipation of the peleton catching them. No sooner had they done that, another rider saw his chance and surged ahead. Obviously a bit pissed at this, the euscadel rider kicked off looking like mitchelin man and made a valient effort in keeping with the breakaway rider for some time. A folly of youth but entertaining non the less.

So Wiggins got held up and slips down to sixth some 36 seconds behind the leader. No problemo says Braillsford, his evil master plan of boring the entire peleton to death with "Keeping it safe, playing the percentages and counting the numbers" seems to go against the romanticism of the Giro, the passion of the race, the need for drama. What the hell I wont give a damn if Wiggo is in pink in Brescia - cos I'll be there to see him in! COME ON WIGGO!

Day 1 giro

Cavendish in pink by the end of the day.

Near Naked Men

CCCP (Cannock Crap Cycling Party) Training starts in earnest this weekend for the 600 mile in 6 days road trip

Its all for male cancer awareness - don't be to embarrassed to get yourself checked out. The outfits are pretty memorable, especially some of the shapes and sizes the CCCP road warriors are going to be cramming into them.

60 mile round trip on Sunday is the target. Ironbridge the destination. A team assembled by scientific analysis, counting the numbers, testing to the limit, the selected CCCP team for the day includes:
Happy Moorey - Rouler
The Little Bear - Sprint specialist
Scissorhand John - Domestique
B******* Dave - Feed zone specialist (Probably end up as Director Sportif)
Dufty (Buffet Slayer) - Climber
The Axeman - Sprint lead out man
Chesh - A cycling Soigneur
Yellow Jerkey - wanna be team leader (but will probably get lost)

Anticipated new squad members
Jim The Fist
The Bosh

I think you will agree, its an ensemble that would do credit to and Grand Tour

Yellow Jersey designed for the dark!

Prudhomme unveils Le Tour de France yellow jersey in Sydney | Cycle Traveller

For the first time the TDF is finishing in the dark, with the yellow jersey carrying fluorescent elements! Check out the link above

Ferraris and self preservation

Milan Bergamo on the 23rd May will see me hiring a car, throwing my bike into the boot and making my way to Lake Garda, to wait for the final stage of the Giro - Riese Pio X to Brescia. Originally I intended to drive the 250 miles from the airport to the mountainous Silandro Schlanders - but there's a reason for the change of plan. I have never driven on mainline Europe (cycled but not driven) and what put me off is a combination of narrow winding mountain passes and lunatic Italian Ferrari drivers with latino charged road rage. I was either going to end up sliding down a valley wall, or getting arrested.

Now this may sound like I'm stereotyping an entire nation but I have this from a expat Italian who comes from the Lake Garda area. Plus I am a little concerned with perhaps my ADHD kicking in while driving on the wrong side of the road - this happened when we did the London to Paris ride a couple of years ago when I found an articulated lorry bearing down on me. The outcome was a bale out into a french hedge amid Gaelic obscenities and honking horns.

Yep the 25 mile pancake flat route to Brescia will do me nicely, although I am going to try and get some miles in on the bike in the mountains in the preceding days. "This is the Self Preservation Society" to quote a previous Italian adventure.