Le Vent Nous Portera

Marin Headlands

2010-05-24T22:17:00.000-07:00

If I thought yesterday's ride up and down San Francisco was difficult to match, well, I was wrong. The morning sky was grey, only rarely sun rays broke through. I loaded up two bags with rain gear, lunch, and out I went. Across the Golden Gate Bridge the cyclist formerly known as urban climbs to open space paradise. Well, a paradise with several roads interrupted for public works (stimulus money perhaps?). But with a little patience and the help of the nice local cyclists a way around the road closures can be found. One turn, one long tunnel, and the chaos of the city vanishes to leave the place to rolling, wind scoured hills that reminded me of coastal northern Europe.
The terrain was perfect for my Jamis Aurora: long hills, twisty roads, uncertain pavement: the bike ate them all and asked for seconds. We left the official road following a trail up to old WWII fortifications, and the bike did not complain one bit, but proceeded comfortably and securely (also thanks to the awesome Victoria Randonneur tires, made in Bergamo).
All I had to do was to find the most spectacular place to have lunch. It wasn't difficult.

Twin Peaks

2010-05-23T21:16:00.000-07:00

Who would be crazy enough to drive around San Francisco for 49 miles? Very few do, at least intentionally (although I think I met a French couple lost around here since the late 60s). Today, the 49 Mile Scenic Drive is best done on a bicycle, the car, if there must be one, parked by the hotel for the entire stay.
And so it was that today I joined a motley crew of eclectic local riders to take an unforgettable tour around time.
Bicycle culture here in San Francisco is something else. There's no equivalent in Southern California. The clothing, the choice of bikes (with a preference for 70s and 80s steel frames), accessories and cable locks, caps and spoke cards... We were quite a show rolling across the many intersections, or climbing up to the Twin Peaks.

The wind was implacable, as well as the the stop and go of the group, often broken by traffic or a few riders accelerating uphill (don't point at me!). I ended up burning much more than on equivalent half-century ride. Warming up riding over Nob Hill (I measured 19% at one point) after watching Ivan Basso triumph at the Zoncolan stage might have contributed to the high calorie consumption. The good thing about touring a city is that places to refuel are all but sparse. In San Francisco parks public fountains abound, and hot dog carts, corner stores, hole-in-the-wall pizzerias provide sustenance to the fatigued rider.
Amazing day. A big thanks to the ride organizers!

De San Francisco à Santa Monica - L'Amérique à vélo

2010-05-05T20:25:00.000-07:00

De San Francisco à Santa Monica - L'Amérique à vélo
Mamma sono in tele! If you are in Canada, don't miss Yvan Martineau, L'Amerique au Velo and the four crazy cyclists attempting to beat Lance Armstrong record on Old San Marcos!

Another Gran Fondo

2010-01-01T21:22:00.000-08:00

2010 will truly be the year of the US Gran Fondo. Another event has been announced as part of the Sea Otter Classic celebrarions, April 15-18, 2010. My calendar is starting to appear crowded...

The 411: Sea Otter Classic - April 15-18, 2010 | Gran Fondo | General Information

Let's hope the fabulous dining options announced include more good pasta and less greasy meats than the average century. That really defines the Gran Fondo spirit :)

Your mileage might vary (2009: the year in riding)

2009-12-31T13:02:00.001-08:00

I failed my mileage objective this year: I pledged to ride a hundred miles per week, but, on average, I barely passed the 94 miles/week mark. As it often happens, failure sneaked up on me at the end, when I had to spend a few days in bed with back pain and the rest of the month recovering.

Happy New Year, Buon Anno, Bonne Année
Originally uploaded by Paolo666

Still I rode over a hundred more total miles than during the previous year, and I’m quite happy about the result. Above all, the recent painful ordeal made me realize the futility of quantifying objectives in numbers. After all, constantly improving one’s performance is unlikely to succeed repeatedly given our limited lifespans.

Thus, for next year, my goals will be quite different. Yes, I’ll still keep track of miles, calories and heartbeats per minute, but all for one reason: to spend my finite resources well and have even more fun than this past year. 2010 will be the year of Gran Fondo: Italian-style timed non-competitive bike events are spreading across the US of A: the Colnago Gran Fondo celebrates a second year in San Diego, with two brand new events to follow in Philadelphia (August 8) and Los Angeles (October 24). If my condition allows it I’ll try to make it to the San Diego and Los Angeles appointments. Then there'll be the repeat of last year’s successful Levi’s Gran Fondo (October 9). An appointment not to be missed with the better part of California.

I hope to make it to 2 out of 4 events, 3 if I’m lucky (and in good shape). However I want to spend 2010 touring as well. I plan to do my first (and second!) overnight tour, starting with an early spring S24O in the Ojai area with my brand new touring bike.

2009 made me finally understand the difference between pedaling as a sport and as a fun and healthy way of life. Next year I’ll try my best to practice both.

And if anyone needs further sources of inspiration check out the Adventure Cycling suggestions for New Year's Cycling Resolutions.

My hero

2009-12-21T13:33:00.000-08:00

Back home, Europe is under an exceptional snowstorm, car drivers told to use public transportation but only very few listen, completely blocking Milan. At least one courageous cyclist is reported :)

Milano sotto le neve, il traffico in tilt | Milano la Repubblica.it

Bike for sale sold!

2009-12-20T10:46:00.001-08:00

Bike for sale sold!
Originally uploaded by Paolo666

It's always a little bit of a heartbreak: when a bike goes, however, the memorable rides stay forever. My 2005 Specialized Sequoia was definitely not the glitzy carbon and titanium super light race bike people dream about, but it got me back on the saddle after what I feared would be a permanent partial disability. I dubbed it "Non Sequitur" because I thought it as a foolish buy, and the last road bike I would ever ride. How wrong I was!

In a few months I was riding it for a hundred miles at a time, and it was more than I could ever ask.

After I switched to carbon, it has become my commuter: always reliable but zippy enough to pass the occasional (old tired or lazy) road cyclist. I used it for over a year, three or four thousand commute miles or so,

But good ol' bikes never die: the new owner has big plans, and intents to cross the country with it. Good luck to them, I sure hope Non Sequitur will make the ride across America even more comfy and enjoyable.

Dude, is that my bike?

2009-12-12T17:48:00.001-08:00

Dude, is that my bike?
Originally uploaded by Paolo666

No it’s not, not anymore. It used to be, until I donated to Bici Centro. It was just strange to turn around on State Street noticing something so familiar. At some point I have dismantled and put back together every little piece of that still fine ride.

I hope it makes somebody else’s Christmas better, if nothing else taking him downtown in spite of the sometimes torrential rains.

Don’t keep your old bike rusting: make them circulate. Somebody out there might be in need a couple of wheels.

Cyclist, eh?

2009-11-29T13:25:00.000-08:00

Yesterday our city had the pleasure of hosting Yvan Martineau and the friendly team from L'Amerique à Vélo. Following a mail that was circulated by Ralph Fertig of the Santa Barbara Bicycle Coalition, a group of intrepid, curious and simply francophone showed up at the Dolphin Fountain to join our Canadian Guests in a ride around Montecito and Mountain Drive. It was a great meet and greet among cyclists from different groups and allegiances, and a great occasion to see the wonderful place where we live through the eyes of our guests.

L'Amerique à Vélo will be a 3 episodes series broadcast on the chain Québéquois Évasion in occasion of the 2010 Tour de France. And that was also the reason for pedaling in Santa Barbara: the irresistible call of our views was only part of the story. After the group ride, I participated with a selected few in an attempt to best Lance Armstrong's alleged climbing record of San Marcos Pass. Needless to say, no one succeeded or even came close, and I was sternly reminded by my heart monitor that it's time to start hill training again.

Another great day of international, bicycle-related fun: I can't wait to post some footage!

(photo courtesy of Ralph Fertig)

Aurora

2009-11-28T18:06:00.000-08:00

I finally had the chance yesterday to try out the beautiful Christmas present from my wife: a 2009 Jamis Aurora. What a magnificent bike, so different from the many I have ridden in my cycling life!

Oddly shaped, at least compared with my "other" road bike the Aurora is the Subaru Forester of bicycles: rutted roads don't scare her, it flies over everything, handles very well. In part this might be due to the 28mm. Vittoria Randonneur tires it comes equipped with, in part to the almost upright riding position of the traditional geometry frame. One thing is sure: there is nothing more comfortable than steel bikes!

Sure, it might not be the bike for sudden uphill sprints, especially at over 27lbs. "naked." However, with the generous gearing provided (30x32 is the lowest!) it's enough to point it at a hill to be sure that, sooner or later, one will get to the top. Exceptional comfort, and payload too: the bike comes with all the possible braze-ons and eyelets for cargo racks and panniers. It's my intention of make of this beauty my main transportation for my daily commute, shopping, and why not, vacation. I'm looking into my first multi-day tour, a dream I had since I was way too young to ride around by myself.

Some initial pictures below:

Turning heads in San Francisco

2009-11-20T09:03:00.000-08:00

I'm off riding because of intense back pain, so all I can do is watch videos of other people riding. I don't endorse this kind of cycle behavior, but it sure looks fun:

YouTube - Bobby Root - Mountain biking

All there is to say...

2009-11-13T17:45:00.000-08:00

...about cycling, at the conclusion of the Liz Hatch (aka Roubaix Girl) teaser for the upcoming Cyclefilm DVD.

Fantasy Solvang Prelude

2009-11-07T16:25:00.000-08:00

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

two roads diverged in a wood, and I --

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

I don’t know how it happened. This year’s course was undoubtedly confusing, criss-crossing the Santa Ynez Valley between Solvang, Ballard and Los Olivos. At some point, however, I noticed something wrong. People appeared more worn and tired that they should have been, and I passed them with oomph, my legs still fresh.
My course map at that point was so disgustingly soaked in sweat that fell apart as I opened it. I slowed down and asked, what road was I on? IOf course no one knew, on the Solvang Prelude and Solvang Century days totally outnumber the locals. I finally found someone who had some idea, perhaps due to the turn-by-turn directions he kept clipped to the handlebar. Smart guy. Turns out I was at mile 40, while I was registering just 25. Somehow, I had, gasp, cheated.

But I wanted my money worth, after all I don’t get to ride in the Santa Ynez Valley every weekend. I climbed the Foxen canyon “wall” (just a little 6% bump, vastly overrated in my humble opinion) and at the next fork in the road, I pulled a Robert Frost: I turned right instead of left, and went up Foxen Canyon, well past the Zaca winery, and at least one worthwhile hill (albeit short). Then I was in pedaling paradise. Near zero traffic, magpies that chattered at my passage, one hawk hunting on the hills on my left. I got back to the more traveled route with some regret but with plenty of renewed energy, and made it in stride through the end.

Kudos to the organizers for the police deployment that made navigating congested Solvang easy. The garbled route could definitely be improved however, as well as the SAG stops: some water at the turnaround point Nojoqui wouldn’t have cost that much, and some volunteers warning drivers about the bike traffic would have been nice.

Steering Wheel Laptop Desk Causes A Stir

2009-11-04T13:29:00.000-08:00

Steering Wheel Laptop Desk Causes A Stir - All Tech Considered - Technology News And Culture Blog : NPR

This one I yet have to see on the road. Who's going to be more likely to whack me, the guy with an ice cream tub between his legs (spotted, Patterson overpass) or the lady eating cereal and a banana in the same fashion (El Colegio)? At least this way their food would not be so precariously balanced. (Note: check the absolutely hilarious reviews).

Always bring a camera

2009-10-22T21:40:00.000-07:00

When riding, a camera phone will do. There's the beauty of the place you are riding through. Then there's self defense.

You have a nice day too, Sir.:

"Knowing him, had this guy stopped and been even slightly apologetic, there probably wouldn't even have been a police report. But instead, the driver chose to turn it into a felony hit and run, with three witnesses, a paramedic report, and a photo of his license plate."

Stylish two-wheelers

2009-10-20T08:45:00.000-07:00

There seems to be a resurgence of the desire for two-wheel freedom. Fantastically-styled, usually with expensive electrical components. One scary example is the Yike Bike, which seems to owe more to the Segway than to the traditional velocipede:

YikeBike - The world's first super light electric folding bike. | Urban Freedom

The Yike shares the "under-seat" handlebar typical of some high recumbents, which I see dangerously weaving between bikepath lanes in the hands of the less-experienced riders. It might take some practice to ride it in traffic (but in the video this looks like a sidewalk rider, which is probably illegal around here).

Another is the PiCycle (seriously: who comes up with these names?), click below for the quite inept LA Times review:

http://latimesblogs.latimes.com/uptospeed/2009/10/picycle-brings-high-style-to-the-ecocommute.html

Really the LA Times could NOT find someone who actually knew anything about bicycles (that "weird" gear shifter is on plenty of bikes!) and would ride one without the silly leather jacket and motorcycle helmet? Or maybe they wanted to show that even the most incompetent rider (in terms of bicycles) might like it? In any case we get little information on some essential details, like use of standard bike parts, cargo load accessories, serviceable batteries and so on. There is more informative material from the maker:

So the good news is, more people are considering two-wheeler alternatives to the car. It might take them a little longer to realize a minimal of physical effort would make their endeavor more fun, much much cheaper, and definitely more environment-friendly!

The Art of Riding in the Rain

2009-10-12T18:35:00.000-07:00

Rain in California seldom lasts long and it’s usually quite predictable. So if you are careful, with reasonably cheap equipment you can join the ranks of the fearless rain riders.

First of all, cargo. Many of us commute with important computing materials, paper artifacts, non soluble foods and spare clothing that we’d prefer to keep dry. You probably have nice waterproof panniers, but, as my kayak instructor used to say, there is no such thing as waterproof, only different degrees of wetness. To keep wetness away as much as possible from precious cargo, I usually pack year round plastic bags (trash bags are just fine) and keep them at the bottom of the panniers. Before leaving under the rain, I make sure to shove all my important stuff in the bag. Zip up the panniers, and you are reasonably sure everything will be dry as bread on arrival.

Clothing varies. In general, in California, I’d advise to layer wisely. It’s usually not that cold when it rains, and it’s easy to overdo it. In other words, don’t pedal in a parka.
Upper body: I use a standard light waterproof jacket with a hood. It’s a really cheap one I picked up in an outlet somewhere, one size bigger than what I would normally wear, so I can layer anything underneath, and have better lower-body protection. Some people, especially those of the short hair/no hair persuasion use hoodless jackets, of the kind that roadies use. However, I found out that unfortunately on many of those cold streams of water easily find their way down the collar area, and you might want to prevent that. I usually wear my helmet on top of the hood. It might look odd, but it keeps everything in place, even in relatively strong winds.

Lower body: there are divergent school of thoughts. Some people have found that there is something more waterproof and breathable than Gore-TexTM: human skin. Those people pedal in the rain in shorts and sandals, dry up on arrival and wear dry clothes (see above for how to make sure you have those at destination). Others prefer a standard waterproof over-pants on tough hiking or mountain biking shoes. What you choose will probably depend on your attitude and even more on your latitude.

Lights: I feel for those poor car drivers, especially those of the breeder variety. Many of them are juggling frantic schedules, fielding phone calls, failing to discipline their kids on the back sear, and often all at once! Plus they get bored a lot, I mean, wouldn’t you be bored if you were locked in one of those metal and glass cages? So I see more and more of them texting while driving. Even with sunshine, it’s not surprising that so few of them seem to notice us or to make the effort to use those turning lights to let us know which way they intend to go. So imagine when the weather turns bad (and those wipers are so much difficult to use than the blinkers!). So try to be as visible as possible. I have reflectors on my rain gears, and of course on the bike, and if it’s pouring I keep my lights on even in daylight, switched on blinking mode.

Don’t let the occasional shower ruin an otherwise perfectly good riding day!

Riding in the Santa Ynez Valley is....

2008-10-12T16:55:00.001-07:00

Yes, its tarantula season

...watching startled calves running alongside the road...

...avoiding the tarantula crossing in front of you...

...dreaming to be the red tailing hawk hunting and surfing the Santa Ana winds...

...thanking the field hands working on sunday, all covered up to beat the wind and the sun...

...letting the guy with the tri bike pass you, only to catch him at the next hill and leave him panting behind...

...laughing at the tourists driving hummers stuck in Solvang traffic....

....chilly in the morning, hot at noon, windy always...

...surprising: after climbing Harris Grade, even Lompoc does not look half bad from above, and far away...

...certainty that whatever the event or your dietary needs, there will be a tri-tip BBQ at the end...

...just awesome. You should try it sometimes!

Fantozzi's Cloud

2008-10-04T16:55:00.001-07:00

Many Italians are familiar with the figure of speech "Nuvola di Fantozzi". For the others, please see the illustration below:I'll call it the "Tourmalet Curse": ever since this past summer's Etape, every organized ride I'm in is doomed to be a wet one. This morning's Harvest Ride was no exception: after one of the hottest October weeks I remember, I guess it was time for some refreshing rain. We left comfily at 8 this morning from Ventura, looking ahead to an easy ride. The course was mostly flat, with a few classic, and very short climbs (Gubernador Canyon, Skofield Park to El Cielito etc.). One hundred easy miles which came to a sudden stop when my riding partner Dom calls a flat. It doesn't matter, we passed plenty of people already in the 6.5 miles we had been riding. Just one more chance to pass them again.

Then right after the tire is fixed with the kind assistance of the Rotary club SAG team the tube blows up again, scaring almost to death one of the two SAG people. Meanwhile, two more riders pass us, then no one is apparently left. We better move before people from the family ride start arriving and tossing candy at us.

Dom fixes the second flat, and we have the time for a quick rest stop for the rain to start in earnest. This is a familiar scenario to me. First you get drenched, then when you can't stand it anymore you put on a rain jacket. Now you are still drenched but relatively warm. As long as you don't stop of course. I was almost envying the guy with a Rivendell Saluki, full fenders double headlights and tires. Looked like a 2-ton machine of iron and chrome, but at least he did not have a constant stream of water freshening up his nether parts. And clean water it wasn't: pretty soon I realize I'm completely covered in road grime, my legs look like they belong to a neanderthal, but it was not additional hair growing, just tar. After all it hasn't rained in the area for five months or so, and the ash of the Gap Fire was still on the ground. Luckily, I think I took most of it home, so now other, smarter people can go out riding and come back clean.

I also realized that this ride for some reason was taking us through UCSB. I felt quite bad to ride to my workplace on a Saturday. I felt even worse realizing I had to drive to Ventura first to get there. It was too much, I knew had to pull another Tourmalet. After all, 250 yards from the road back lays my house, a warm shower, a hairy dog --feathers for my tarred legs were not available, so I just had to cover myself in dog hair instead.

At the end of the day, I had ridden about a hundred kilometers. After all, I'm European, I guess I'm doomed to measure my athletic achievement in metric units, willing or not. Another occasion for an imperial hundred will present itself soon enough. Local populations, beware, and dust off your umbrellas: I'll be pedaling through town, the black malicious cloud right over my head....

Dawn of new era?

2008-08-17T15:15:00.000-07:00

This is a first for me, at least here in the US. I was pedaling up Painted Cave Road today, zen-focusing on the sweat I could almost see evaporating off my skin. A red jeep went by, two men and a yellow lab looking curiously at me. The guy on the passenger seat gave me thumbs up and shouted “I admire you.”

It totally made my day. Even my heartbeat improved, and that part of the climb being mostly an anaerobic exercise, it meant a lot. I want to think this is a start of a new era when car drivers and bike riders will stop stepping on each other’s toes.

I took advantage of the beautiful day and the altitude gained during the indefatigable exercise of the ascent to remind myself that the bike is not (always) an end in itself but also the mean to traveling fast, silently and light, looking at things like no car driver can. I kept pedaling to the end of the paved portion of West Camino Cielo to take a look at the Gap Fire aftermath. Here are some images:

In conclusion

2008-08-03T21:35:00.001-07:00

My bike, Aida, followed us on vacation for the next few weeks, and we rode over the cols of the Basque country as well as through the vineyards of Bordeaux. This alone was worth all the trouble in bringing her along. A few thousand more words could be written on what all this meant to me. And maybe one day I will write them.

For now, suffice it to say that riding the Étape was perhaps an impossible dream, a comical failure, an exciting adventure, and above all a great goal that sustained me through quite a difficult time of my life.

I don't regret a single second of it. And I don't think I ever will.

Luz Ardiden

2008-07-12T21:13:00.000-07:00

Today I paid in spades for my Hautacam prowess. At the last minute I enrolled in a time trial from Luz Saint-Saveur up to Luz Ardiden, another classic Tour arrival climb. Organized by the Lavedan cycling club and by the local tourist office, the contre-la-montre offered about forty among locals and non-locals a chance to try their skills against each other and the once more unforgiving weather, which presented a menu of thick brouillard and rain all the way up to the ski station.

I thought I could easily make it in the middle positions: how wrong I was! The club riders went up fast, soon disappearing uphill. I tried to chase them, but ny heart and my legs would simply not cooperate to keep the pace, easily going into overdrive on ramps that yesterday I took with much more panache. In the end I made it in one hour eight minutes, definitely not a world record.

Coming down after the refreshment at the top was even worse: once more I'm happy I stopped before the dreaded Tourmalet descent at the Étape. My hands froze in place in spite of the long gloves. Thankfully, they froze in the "brake pulled" position, preventing me from dropping to almost certain death. And thankfully they came alive once more after the mandatory hot shower, allowing me to type this today.

Hautacam

2008-07-11T20:47:00.000-07:00

Thinking back about the Etape, I don't think I would ever have made it to the end, weather or no weather. Today I had a chance to try the final climb, Argeles to Hautacam. Hautacam is relatively short but nervous, twisty and vengeful climb, always ready to surprise the daring rider around the next corner and cut his legs with a surprise ramp. With several changes in grade up to 10% average on the kilometer, I was happy just to see a 8% sign.

All this said, this is a fun ride, if not taken on after 150 kilometers and the Tourmalet. There is always a cyclist to race against: Jurassic era French riders on old Peugeot bikes, solid Germans, Tour enthusiasts in full racing uniform. And this season, hundreds of camping cars (we call them RVs in the US) are already lining the road set up for the Tour arrival on Monday. Local paysans are transforming their grandfather's field into parking lots and refreshment stands for the day of the event. Old ladies are already sitting in camping chairs facing the road a full three days and a half before the the Tour. I can just hope that they are going to feed them until then, or at least remove the bodies from the road afterward.

I climb too fast, excited for the course and perhaps thinking too much about Riccardo Riccò's victory in Super-Besse. The last 3 kilometers are totally immersed in the clouds. I'm blind, I have to take off my (prescription!) sunglasses, with the result of making things even less clear. I pedal avoiding the shadows of bystanders and the occasional maneuvering camping car. One shadow I recognize as a young guy, Bouygues Telecom uniform, carbon Trek Madone. He shifts feverishly hearing me approaching. I follow in his tracks, wait for the right time, then take off fast, too fast. I don't want to give him a chance to respond, and I push as hard as I can and more. I feel have started too far from the finish line, my heart at 180, my lungs explode: I just hope he's nowhere behind me. I finally see Monday's finish line with relief, then I stop to catch my breath and wait for my instant competitor to say bonjour. It's just too much fun.

Le Tourmalet

2008-07-07T16:57:00.000-07:00

Tourmalet

So did I give up? I prefer to think that I postponed the challenges to better enjoy them. After all, competition was never the top of my priorities.

Yesterday I rode down to Luz Saint-Saveur to climb back up to the top of the Tourmalet. All they say about European mountains is true. I don't think I'll be able to ride again in Southern California without thinking what a pitiful comparison our local climbs are to all this. The green, the raging streams in the middle of summer, even the occasional sheep in the road contributed to the tough, spectacular climb up to the 2115 summit. After the descent it took me about 20 minutes to find the right rhythm, which I kept almost to the top, happily passing quite a few locals in the process. Every kilometer a sign announced the distance to the sommet and the average grade. On this side of the Tourmalet the climb is quite constant and easy, usually around 7%, with a few kilometers at 8-9% and a glorious last kilometer at 10%. It took me about 1:40 minutes to realize I was at the top and still ready for more. Too bad it was lunch time and I had to ride back.

Lanterne rouge

2008-07-06T16:17:00.000-07:00

And we're off
Originally uploaded by amawby75

What a comedy of errors! I spent six months preparing myself athletically and forgot to make a couple of essential six-minute purchases.

Don't misunderstand me: it was fun, immensely fun, even in the disgrace the day began as.

The night did not go very well. In fact I'm positive I did not close eye for longer than a couple of minutes. And I wasn't the only one: at least a couple of veterans of many battles in our group suffered from the same event-induced insomnia. However, as they said, it's not so important how much one sleeps the night before the event, if enough sleep has been enjoyed in the previous week. Unfortunately, I am not doing well on that front as well, having traveled through quite a few timezones just a few days earlier. Yet that proved to be the least of my problems.

The endless night goes at the rhythm by thunder and lightning. No, the weather was not going to be that good. At sunrise, only a light drizzle salutes the early riders. At 6AM it's time to decide: vest or rain jacket? I go for the vest, considering the previous days of heat. The drizzle will just dry off while climbing under the sun, right? Wrong: while in the pen with other 8500 riders, waiting to start for over an hour, rain starts pouring. We curse the sky, but to no avail. We can't leave or go back now, we're locked in by metal gates waiting our turn to start. People leave in batches of 1000. I have bib number 7170. The rain keeps falling. I suffer in silence. It takes just a few minutes to realize the full extent of the "colder than hell" expression. I realize there is only one way out: after starting, pedal full speed back to the hotel, then back to the race to avoid the feared broom wagon. Yes, because as I found out, my high bib number has another unfortunate consequence: leaving at 7:30 or so leaves only 10 minutes advantage over the dreaded fin de la course.

I literally fly back, adding already a few extra kilometers to the long day ahead. Then I rush back passing the extremely unlucky, those who got all the way here to be eliminated in the first mile due to a flat. Me, I only have myself to blame so far. I'm going super fast, catching up with all the stragglers. But I'm still cold. Even if now protected by the rain jacket I am completely soaked underneath. Worse, my feet are protected only by very light socks, and are drowning in the well ventilated shoes I so appreciated during the Mulholland Challenge. Why didn't I bring my shoe covers? Because, as many other spoiled Sou Cal riders, I own none, nor would I ever ride if such implements where actually needed. But the lack those cheap pieces of nylon could change the course of this gray rainy day. Soon enough every descent will chill me to the bone, and at some point I'll stop feeling my toes.

Yet I'm rocking and rolling to the first hill at Rébénacq, explored a couple of days before, and I catch up with a couple of hundred of the slowest, hungover, invalid and misguided, imagining the broom wagon losing more and more terrain. Old ladies and children defied the weather, standing at the window or along the route cheering and applauding the riders, shouting "bon courage." I'll never forget them or thank them enough. "Yes," I think, "I'll make it!"

Then everything stops.

A couple of accidents in the next few kilometers stop the gruppetto in its tracks for ten minutes or so. I feel my advantage evaporate while the unfortunate victims are picked up by the ambulances. It gets worse: really slow people are descending carelessly on the wet pavement, way above their demonstrated skill level. The group however is spread thin enough that it's easy to avoid the worst elements, and pass them easily at the next hill.

The weather does not improve. When I get to Lourdes, I know I won't make it much further. It would be crazy to climb the Tourmalet in my condition: I'm already shacking for the cold, and there are nine degrees more than the reported three on top of the pass. After all, I'll be in the Hautes Pyrenées for an entire week, and I'll be able to take my chances with the mythical climbs then, if I don't catch my death today, that is. "Live to ride another day," I think, cutting to Argeles-Gazost to the arrival hotel, dreaming of the hot shower that will put an end to this unfortunate, but ultimately epic day.