The Mortirolo, Marco and Me

Guest contributor Rich, a member of the Stockton Bicycle Club who was on a tour with CycleItalia, sends in his second contribution, this time about the Mortirolo and Gavia.

The Mortirolo, Marco and Me

"The Mortirolo has been called the toughest climb in pro cycling, and it is certainly the steepest and toughest I have encountered. Since we were tackling this climb, along with the Gavia, on our 10th consecutive day in the saddle, and since we had spent close to three hours climbing the Stelvio the day prior, John and I decided to sag the 30 km of mostly downhill and fairly busy roads to get to the start of the climb relatively fresh. It didn’t help much.


Everyone who has ridden Sierra Road outside of San Jose in California, thinks it is a hard climb, and it is. Sierra Road is 3.6 miles and climbs 1800 feet, which works out to about 9.2% average grade. But the Mortirolo is over twice as long (7.7 miles) and averages 10.2%. And the real killers are those 6 kilometers (3.7 miles) in the middle of the climb which average 12.4%. One of those kilometers is a whopping 14.5% average gradient. Even with a 34x32 low gear there are places where I had to stand to keep the bike moving. Sierra Road takes me something under 35 minutes to climb (my pr is 32:00) but the Mortirolo required 1:39 to do the 7.7 miles and climb 4150 feet.

I wanted to get to the Pantani Memorial, which is about 8 km into the climb, without stopping, and somehow I managed to do it. In 1994 Pantani wowed the tifosi with amazing attacks on the Mortirolo, and his memorial is different from the others we saw at the top of climbs with grand views of the mountains. Pantani’s monument is located at what appears to be just another unremarkable switchback of the 30 that make up this climb. It is wooded and shaded and there is no view at all. They say he put in the decisive attack on this corner, which is why his monument is here. Given the glory and disappointments of his career and his sad and tragic death from drugs and depression, it seems fitting that he should be remembered at a place where he fought to beat the mountain and his rivals and not on some grandiose summit crowned in glory.

The Pantani Memorial is sobering and I spent a good while there, taking pictures and thinking about how hard this sport can be and how much effort and determination are required from those who excel at it. Marco flew up the climb and the tifosi cheered; he died alone in a hotel room and the tifosi mourned the loss. I was also thinking about how amazing it was to be in a country where cycling could produce such passion that they build monuments to their heroes along the roads where they had their greatest moments.

Cyclists leave mementos at the monument. I didn’t leave anything, but I did get a picture with some SBC stuff and a Bicycle Café cap at the site.


After the photo op, I continued up the climb, and the reduced gradient over the last 4 km, which averages ‘only’ 9.6%, allowed me to complete the climb without another break. And finally I reached the summit, which is in the middle of a cow pasture. I was more than glad to be done with this one, and I actually felt pretty good after it was over. Of course, that could all change on the Passo Gavia, which is the next climb of the day.


By the time we started down the Mortirolo, it was getting on toward lunch time, and since there really isn’t anywhere to eat on the Gavia we decided to have lunch and then sag the rest of the downhill to the base of the last big climb of the trip. I haven’t been car sick since I was in high school, but as our guide and grand prix driver Larry sped the van down the switchbacks like the ex motorcycle racer he is, I got queasy, and then a little more than queasy. I didn’t throw up but I felt as if I could at any moment. When we parked at the base of the climb, I wasn’t sure I could even stand up let along climb another HC monster. I was dizzy and nauseated and sweating, though the day was cool. Heather gave me a coke and some anti motion sickness gum, and I started up the climb feeling decidedly weak and just trying to keep the pedals turning. We started the climb at km 13 in the profile below.


The Gavia Pass became well known to Americans in 1988, the year Andy Hampsten won the Giro. He didn’t win the stage (Eric Breukink did) but he take over the maglia rosa by 15 seconds in a horrendous snowstorm. Bob Roll was on Andy’s team and wrote about the terrible conditions in his article ‘The Day the Big Men Cried’. And back then, the road wasn’t even paved!

Even though the entire climb is now smooth asphalt, and instead of snow we were enjoying another perfect day with sunshine, light winds and cool temperatures, I was still finding the climb plenty hard. I rode along with John most of the way. Usually I climbed a little faster than he did, but I was feeling awful and was happy to ride alongside him. The last 7 km or so are very scenic, with amazing views across the valley far below on your left to the spectacular peaks on the other side.

Larry warned us that a few guests had ‘freaked out’ in the tunnel 3 km from the top. The tunnel is 800 meters long, unlit and lacking in any windows. It is also uphill at around 9 percent, so it takes a good long while to get through. Because of the incline and a slight curve the exit isn’t visible for the first 500 meters or so, and it is very dark in there. Fortunately traffic was sparse, though a motorcycle did overtake us and the roar was deafening. Heather was driving the van behind us with her headlights on, which helped some. When we emerged into the light I was finally recovering and I finished the last 3 km of serious climbing on our trip feeling much better than I had at the bottom. I’m even smiling at the top knowing that only the shorter climb of the Madonna di Ghisallo remains for tomorrow and the big climbs are all behind me. And while I did sag a few descents and stretches of false flat roads which had a little more traffic, I did every climb of the tour on my bike.


After my bout with car sickness I decided to ride down to Bormio on my bike, and I enjoyed the ride down until the road narrowed in a village, where two tourist busses had met in oncoming directions and couldn’t get past each other. I had to wait with the other cars while one backed up enough to find a spot wide enough to let the other one past. But after the slight delay I made it down to Bormio and managed to find my hotel. This was the last descent of the tour, and I made it down all of them without incident, even though I was pretty worried about the steep downhill roads before the tour started. Tonight I will celebrate with an extra glass of wine, since tomorrow there is only one short climb on the program, from Lake Como up to the Madonna di Ghisallo Chapel."



From The Day the Big Men Cried, by Bob Roll:

I grabbed a plastic hat, long-finger gloves, and Oakley Pilots and took off down the pass for Bormio, a mere 15 kilometers away. I thought I could ride 15 kilometers in any condition, at any time, anywhere on Earth. I have never been more wrong in my life.

After a brilliant climb, Van de Velde, forsaking extra clothes in order to gain time on the descent, was the leader on the road and had the pink jersey waiting for him in Bormio. Only 2 kilometers of descending later, Van de Velde was on his knees in tears. Savagely hypothermic, he crawled into a car to warm up. One hour later, he got out of the car and rode to the finish way outside the time limit....

Meanwhile, I kept my head down and hammered, following the tire grooves through the snow. After only 1 kilometer, I was bloody cold. After 2 kilometers, I was frozen to the core. After only 3 kilometers, I was laughing like a lunatic and passed Rolf Sorensen, screaming at the top of my lungs in an attempt to generate some warmth. After 5 kilometers, I was crying and about to slip into a frozen coma. About halfway down, I was not thinking straight and was making poor choices. At one point, I got off my bike and began to run back up the hill in a lame attempt to warm up.

Follow on Twitter: ITALIANCYCJOURN

Stories for the Italian Cycling Journal about rides, granfondos, touring, having a good time cycling in Italy, Italian cycling history, etc. are always welcome. Contact me at veronaman@gmail.com. There are more than 2,000 stories in this blog. The search feature to the right works best for finding subjects in the blog. There is also a translate button at the bottom so you can translate each page.

Holiday Gift for Andy Hampsten Fans

From Steve Hampsten, brother of Andy Hampsten, of HAMPSTEN bicycles:

"Christmas/Hanukah/Kwanzaa/Solstice is right around the corner and we have the perfect stocking stuffer: signed Andy poster and a pair of our new DeFeet Wooleator socks at the low, low price of only $45!

Price includes shipping and a handsome cardboard mailing tubing artisanally packed by yours truly."

To order the "Passo Gavia - the warmth package" click here.

The story behind the 1988 image on the poster, as recounted by Andy Hampsten, is this:

"We were about 400-500 meters above sea level, in this big valley in Lombardy… and it was snowing. Most of us on the 7-Eleven team were from Colorado, and were pretty good at math, and if it’s snowing and you go up… and it’s SNOWING… it’s slushy, it’s coming down and then melting, it’s belting in… There’s no hint of anything changing, looking at the weather forecast. So the Giro organizers held an emergency meeting with all the team managers, telling them “hey, we’re doing the race, the roads open, snowplows are keeping it clear. It’s not icy on the Gavia, but it is snowing.”When we left it was just raining… kind of sleet-rain, but bucketing down. We went over the Aprica pass, a category 2 with a pretty short descent, but even on that descent I was wearing ALL the warm clothes I could possibly put on. I was shaking uncontrollably on that silly little descent. Then we were up at about 800 meters (altitude) climbing on a long false flat. A break went away and my team was chasing it but we weren’t going too hard, there wasn’t anyone really dangerous up there.And everyone was freaked out. All the racers were just… “scared”. The roads were wet, we’re just getting soaked to the skin. The cloud cover’s really low, it’s belting down on us, it’s really thick clouds, sometimes it’s foggy, sometimes we’re just below the clouds. We just kno-o-o-w it’s gonna be incredibly cold.Andy’s voice lifts for a moment when he remembers “My team was taking really good care of me bringing me hot tea every 5 km, we had a big thermos, our team was really well prepared. They’re asking “Andy – should we chase that break? Should we catch ‘em before the mountains?” But we just did tempo, I think Chiocciolli’s team with the leaders jerseys did a moderate tempo as well.

We went through the town of Ponte di Legno, across the wooden bridge, then we turned left towards the Gavia. It’s a gradual climb for about 4km, things are stringing out a little bit but there’s quite a bit of talk amongst (primarily) Italians… about ‘hey, let’s have a little strike, let’s not really race it, let’s get in the cars, let’s just go home’…And someone says: ‘hey Andy, you’re not gonna attack are you?’I just looked at him… and I didn’t say… a word....they knew damn well I was going to attack.

The road was still paved, but after a couple of km it turns to dirt. My team doctor - Dr. Massimo Testa – who’s from Como and knew the roads really well told me it would go around a left hand turn, still paved, then narrow to one lane under a grove of fir trees, and it’ll be 16%, right away, and turn to dirt.

So sure enough, I was right at the front, with my teammates doing tempo. Road turns to dirt… and it’s a long way to go. But I knew everyone was terrified… I was scared… So I attacked.Not a hundred percent, but because everyone was sooo intimidated by the whole climb… It was the climb of the race, everyone had been talking about it. Gianni Motta, who was always really friendly with Americans, super encouraging, told me the first day ‘you can win this race, and you can win it on THAT day…’ And they hadn’t used it for 30 years – the last time was 1961 & 62 when Charly Gaul won both stages into Bormio…It’s a really hard climb 18% in parts, never really gets below 10%… dirt, one lane road – a really good dirt road, with every few hundred meters there’s a little parking place carved out of the mountain, so when two cars meet, one can pull over and pass…Steady, steep grades, tons of switchbacks. The top is paved for about 3 km. Then it turns back to dirt on the way down, pretty much a one lane road, incredible number of switchbacks… turns, gradual turns, super sharp turns…

Usually in a race I’d go 100% up a climb and be able to hold it together in good weather, even rainy weather, on the descent. But, when my head’s spinning a little due to the effort on the uphill. I’m risking losing time due to a crash on the downhill. So in these conditions, I decided to go up the hill at 90-95%. Physically, but psychologically the uphill there I was producing some heat, while for the downhill, I just kneeew… because the storm was coming from the north, which was the direction we were traveling – I knew the descent would be colder and snowier than the climb.When I attacked it was still pretty much raining, but within a few kms, it turned into big, heavy snowflakes, plummeting down – like in the Christmas movies…So I dropped everyone right away, and it was in the switchbacks so I could really see my main rivals – Breukink, Zimmerman, Chiocciolli, stretched out behind me, it’s too steep for anyone to organize anything… I like dirt – I really like riding on dirt roads, I was kind of having fun (he chuckles). It wasn’t gravelly or chunky, it was a good dirt road, no potholes. A perfectly fine dirt road to ride your bike on, soft enough that I could see my tires were leaving imprints, so quite a bit of resistance, but technically nothing challenging. Which was wonderful, because over the top I was testing to see if it was icy, and it wasn’t. It was just slush on top of a very wet dirt road, so it wasn’t ever very dangerous…When we had a meeting in the morning, we were more worried about the descent, due to the weather, than the climb. So I certainly kept that in mind. Even when I attacked with 18km still go… I was thinking ‘okay you’re going to go really hard, but it’s a really long climb – obviously don’t blow it – ‘So on the way up it turned to snow, I could see I was opening gaps up, checking the time splits, catching a bunch of riders who had been away. Johan Vandevelde had jumped away earlier, and he was a bit up the road, and I was slowwwly closing on him, but I was trying to be first over the mountain…A few kms from the top I got a bottle of hot tea from one of my soigneurs we’d planted there. 2 kms from the top I got a musette bag filled with clothes that each one of us prepared and gave to Jim Ochiwizc (our team manager), and we were the only team to prepare warm clothes for this whole thing…On the way up I got rid of all of my warm clothes, my legs were bare, no shoe covers. I did have a pair of neoprene diving gloves that I kept on for the entire climb. Along the way my team car gave me a neck-gator and a wool hat.I wanted to dry my hair before I put it on – maybe 4-5 ks before the top, so I brushed through my hair, thinking I was going to wipe some water out, and a big snowball rolled off my head, and down my back.I thought – ‘Oh my gosh – I’m really not producing much heat, even though I’ve been going up a really hard grade.’ So then I had my raincoat, a super thin polypro undershirt on , so my arms were covered, but I was NOT warm at the top of the mountain. We could spend a few hours while I figure out how to describe how cold I was…

But I was thinking ‘it’s still a race, I’ve still got to get down the other side, as fast as I can. I kept pedaling on the downhill, but no one was there – no team car. Breukink – I followed him for a few hundred meters and figured out he had no clue how to ride in the snow and I’d rather make my own mistakes. Visibility was okay, but it was probably 20 or 30 yards. I kept one gear moving because all my other gears were frozen up with ice. It was –4 celsius (25F) at the top.There was slushy snow on the road, they’d been plowing the road beforehand, but stopped probably an hour before we came over. I think I was riding in a 53x 14 or 15, and I pedaled the whole way down. I’ve been back twice, in the summer, so I know now what the road actually looks like – it’s a fantastic road. But you can’t go very fast on it anyway, because it’s soo narrow, and soo many turns, there’s really no place you can open it up and go too fast…

I told myself “neevvvver look down at my legs”…so I looked down at my legs and the were bright red with a sheet of ice on my shins… I thought ‘man I’m in biiiigg trouble…’ I know there’s nothing on the mountain, if I stop, there’s no team car behind me because it’s too snowy – they can’t go, the Giro directeur was already down in the next village just hoping the race came by, there’s no lead motorcycle, nothing out there.There was one Carrera team mechanic with a spare pair of wheels on the dirt downhill, just walking down the middle of the road, sweaarrring and ranting because he’s been left alone, thinking they cancelled the race and no one told him about it… he freaked and shouted when I went past him.Meanwhile Vandevelde - I didn’t see it but he stopped. This road goes back to Napoleon, and there’s 2 refuges, he stopped at the second one, his team gave him a cotton hat and a plastic raincoat … and he just freaked out – he finished 48 minutes later. He was sooo cold, and so unprepared for the descent…

So I’m on my way down, I don’t care about the race I don’t care about anything, I’m pissing and moaning and grumbling, done asking God to come help me and I’ll make a deal with the devil if he shows up! (laughing) But there’s just me and my silly bike and there is a village after 15km of descending and I’m just telling myself to go go go. I knew if I put a foot down I was just going to freeze up. I can’t tell you how cold I was, but I was calculating “can I make it to that town?’ The only choice was to just keep going, try to create some heat – braking and pedaling at the same time.But I think I was going at a fairly good pace for the conditions because it was snow until about 3kms before the village of Santa Catarina and by that time I’m trying to do little tricks with myself – ‘oh joy! now it’s just sleet – it’s warmed up to just freezing!’ And I really don’t know if I’m going to make, it but I’m committed to going as hard as I can. Breukink caught me with about 8ks to go, and I tried to jump on his wheel… he must not have nee far behind me on the descent. I could not hold his wheel, but then I thought I could use him as a bit of a rabbit playing the silly game in my head… ’is it warmer to put on the brakes and go down this hill at 10 mph, or is it better to go 40-50 mph on this straight 8% slope?’ I’m going to get there quicker, but am I going to get hypothermia? But I figured if it’s so cold that I’m in danger of freezing, I’m just going to fall off my bike anyway… So I kept going down, kept him within 7 seconds at the end. I didn’t even want to stop at the finish line, but I didn’t even know where the hotel was anyway! (laughing) So I just sort of collapsed at the finish line, got warmed up, putting on the pink jersey, which was really really fantastic. At that point I ‘kind of’ cared about the race more than a hot bath… but not by a long shot… As a postscript, I asked Andy if he ever gets tired of talking about his racing days – he must have told the Gavia story a million times!Says Andy: “No, no. Talking about the Gavia… I get… pretty emotional each time. I’ve been back a couple of times to ride it with journalists and recount the day, and man, I’m waaasted by the end of the day…!”

Images from that day:

And, some stories of the mere mortals that have ridden the Gavia:
Pietro on the Gavia
Andy Hampsten and the Gavia

Note: Andy's story appeared in www.pezcycling.com

Stories for the Italian Cycling Journal about rides, granfondos, having a good time cycling in Italy, Italian cycling history, etc. are very welcome. Contact me at veronaman@gmail.com. There are more than 1,600 stories in this blog. The search feature to the right works best for finding subjects in the blog. There is also an Italian weather widget along the right side and a translate button at the bottom so you can translate each page. What I'm riding.

2010 Giro d'Italia, Stage 20 Results

Passo del Tonale, 29 May: Tschopp toasts on Tonale. Basso reinforces his pink jersey. The report of Gazzetta dello Sport:

The Giro's last mountain stage reveals itself calmer than expected for Ivan Basso. The frightening five peaks, among them the terrible Gavia only generates some unrealistic attempts by Sastre and Vinokourov during the initial climb. The stage, 178 kilometres from Bormio to the Tonale Pass, livens up at last during the final kilometers when Evans hurls forward. He disrupts the pack of hard-hitters in his pursuit of the podium. Tomorrow the Giro concludes with the time trial in Verona on the day of Ivan Basso's official triumph.

Skirmishes right off the bat with an attack of a 13-man pack followed by one by Stefano Pirazzi and finally one by Irishman Dan Martin, who is snagged by a group of 19 counter-attackers (including Cunego and Pinotti) after a bit. At the beginning of the climb towards Forcola di Livigno, the 20 pace setters have a 1'09" lead on the pink jersey pack. An attack by Sastre and Simoni kicks up along the climb and they snag the fugitives in no time at all. Other men in the classification join Kazakh racer Vinokourov. Meanwhile Stefano Garzelli (who is having trouble after having fallen yesterday) and Spaniard Xavier Tondo withdraw from the race. Matthew Lloyd takes the points of the KoM on the Forcola di Livigno peak to get the green jersey, tearing it off Basso. The Aussie also takes the lead on Eira Pass, where the fugitives bring up a 1'07" lead on the pink jersey pack, Cunego included. Pirazzi takes off on his own at the Foscagno Pass and crosses it with a 50" lead on his chasers and a 1'45" on the pack.

Passo di Gavia. This Giro's "Cima Coppi" with its 2,618 metres. Pirazzi is snagged while Simoni goes ahead, followed by Tschopp. The mature racer wants to attempt this undertaking to conclude his career. The Swiss racer is merciless on Gavia's peak and beats his breakaway companion with a sprint, taking the joy away of crossing first through the most important peak. After the power of his surge, Tschopp is alone. During the very challenging downhill from Gavia, Simoni is snagged by Vinokourov, Pinotti and Sastre. Basso's Liquigas is in total control of the race. At the beginning of the climb, Tschopp has 1'00 on Vinokourov, Righi and Karpets and 2'18" on the pink jersey. The Kazakh racer gives it all he has in the attempt to bring this stage's victory home with him for the first time but up ahead the Swiss racer does not give in for an instant and wins on Tonale. Meanwhile, right behind him Evans surges in pursuit of winning the stage and he passes Vinokourov in a heartbeat and comes in at 16" behind Tschopp. Scarponi leaves the pack, too. In the general classification, he is only 19" behind Nibali's third place. Basso tries to bring his teammate up with him in order to save his place on the podium, but the Messina native can't make it and so it is the Varese native who will snag Scarponi and beat him on a dash and grab his bonus time . The result is Nibali maintains his third place position in the general classification, even if it is only by 1 second. Basso reinforces his pink jersey: now he has 1'15" on Arroyo, 2'56" on Nibali and 2'57" on Scarponi.

Michele Scarponi uses his best weapon to convey his state of mind: Irony. "I already lost the Tirreno-Adriatico for a placement issue and now I'm only a second away from the podium. Hell, Ivan you could have left me this third place..."

Cadel Evans, the extraordinary world champion who is honoring the race right to the end says:"Something really strange has to happen for Ivan to lose this Giro. I would have wanted to win this stage but I don't have much liberty to attack. In any case, I'll give it my best shot in Verona, too."

Basso, the Varese native, received hearty applause from the public at the starting line in Bormio. He warns "Everyone remembers what happened a year ago in Rome, I'll prepare as if I only had a 2 second lead, not 1'15". The fact that I'm in good shape is a comfort. They drove us crazy here, attacking from the beginning to the end. And yet, I earned something."

Top 10 GC after stage 20:
1 Ivan Basso (Ita) Liquigas-Doimo 87:23:00
2 David Arroyo Duran (Spa) Caisse d'Epargne -0:01:15
3 Vincenzo Nibali (Ita) Liquigas-Doimo 0:02:56
4 Michele Scarponi (Ita) Androni Giocattoli 0:02:57
5 Cadel Evans (Aus) BMC Racing Team 0:03:47
6 Richie Porte (Aus) Team Saxo Bank 0:07:25
7 Alexandre Vinokourov (Kaz) Astana 0:07:31
8 Carlos Sastre Candil (Spa) Cervelo Test Team 0:08:55
9 Robert Kiserlovski (Cro) Liquigas-Doimo 0:14:06
10 Marco Pinotti (Ita) Team HTC - Columbia 0:15:00

Tomorrow, on the 26th anniversary of the victory of Francesco Moser, the l'Arena of Verona (the Roman coliseum in Verona) will once again host the finishing stage of the Giro d'Italia.

The 15 km time trial course will be open from 0930 to 1130 for riders to test the course. At 1130 there is a VIP team race that will include, among others, Jury Chechi, Antonio Rossi, Mirco Bergamasco, Denis Dallan, Christian Zorzi, Pietro Fanna, Alessandro Pittin, Mario Cipollini, Davide Cassani, Maurizio Fondriest, Gianni Motta and Francesco Moser. The l'Arena will open its gates at 1300 for guests. The first time trialist will begin at 1440. Ivan Basso, the current leader, will start at 1725. Riders will leave at 3 minute intervals.




Looking towards the Torricelli at sunset (around the corner from our apartment)

Photos by Bettini

Stories for the Italian Cycling Journal about rides, granfondos, having a good time cycling in Italy, Italian cycling history, etc. are very welcome. Contact me at veronaman@gmail.com. There are more than 1,400 stories in this blog. The search feature to the right works best for finding subjects in the blog and there is also a translate button at the bottom so you can translate each page.

Andy Hampsten's 1988 7-Eleven Huffy Giro d'Italia

The following article was written by James Huang and appeared in www.cyclingnews.com.

Andy Hampsten's 1988 7-Eleven Huffy Giro d'Italia

The bike that conquered the Passo di Gavia and the 1988 Giro d'Italia

Saturday's torturous run into Montalcino will undoubtedly go down as one of the most memorable moments of the Giro d'Italia with shattered riders crossing the line looking more as if they had just finished Paris-Roubaix, not a stage of a grand tour: minutes were gained and lost, spirits were broken, heroes were made.

But for many Giro d'Italia watchers, stage 7 also harkened back to another brutally unforgiving day 22 years ago – when Andy Hampsten left behind all but one of his competitors ascending a snowy and freezing-cold Passo di Gavia, bravely descended the other side, and then went on to become the first and only American to win Italy's greatest bicycle race.

Hampsten's steed back then was a prototypical road racer of the late '80s with a lugged steel frame and fork, a 1" threaded steerer, and shifters that were mounted on the down tube, not conveniently integrated into the brake levers. But the characteristics he sought from his machine back then aren't far off from what racers still demand today.

Though it wore the red, green and white livery and labels of official team sponsor Huffy, Hampsten's bike was actually a custom made rig crafted to his specifications by famed US builder John Slawta of Land Shark after a team-issued frame broke beneath him earlier that spring at Fleche-Wallone. That failure was eventually sourced back to an errant shipment by the builder's tubing supplier but still, Hampsten says his confidence was shaken and he wanted to go with something tried and true.

"I felt bad about not using a Serotta [the company that actually built the team 'Huffys'] and sticking with the team supplier," Hampsten told us. "It wasn't Serotta's fault. But I was in a period of my life when I didn't like crashing due to mystery bike failures, so I went with the sure ride I knew Land Shark would build for me.

"John gave me a deal on it and the 7-Eleven team was nice enough to let me buy a frame for myself," Hampsten continued. "He made bikes earlier for my Levi's Raleigh team and I knew he would do a great job."

Hampsten's racing experience at that point taught him to seek out a frame that was light – but not too light – and handled with the stability and predictability needed to not only ascend the highest peaks but also get down them safely and quickly as well, too.

"I asked John to build it light for the mountains but it needed to put up with some bad roads," Hampsten said. "It was light but I know John was fairly conservative about going too light. His geometry is perfect; I never felt it would not get me out of the way when I was going around or through a crash, yet on the bad road conditions we experienced it was never unstable.

"The year after '88 we had Eddy Merckx as our bike supplier," he continued. "He is the master at fitting bikes to riders and taught us not to get hung up on light bikes. Why save seconds on a climb and lose minutes on a descent? Slawta certainly has an old world style of making bikes that go up and downhill properly."

Hampsten's build kit back then featured box-section Wolber aluminum tubular rims and tires; a deep-drop aluminum handlebar, XA forged alloy stem, Volare saddle and cork tape from Cinelli; and a Shimano Dura-Ace group complete with down tube shifters and forged alloy seatpost.

Some of the original parts have unfortunately gone in separate directions from the rest of the bike, however, including the Look-style Dura-Ace clipless pedals and the then-prototype eight-speed cassette and rear wheel (all of which, "went to a junior racer with another bike in '89. Who knew bike parts would keep changing?").

Hampsten says his local shop, University Bicycles in Boulder, Colorado (where the bike is now on display amongst the shop's impressive collection of vintage gear) has otherwise done an excellent job of restoring and caring for the bike and aside from a non-spec chain, is just as he raced it in Italy in '88, fit and all.

Total weight as pictured here without pedals is 8.93kg (19.69lb) – heavy by today's standards but typical for its time.

Hampsten tells us he hasn't ridden the bike in years but by his account its handling characteristics and overall feel aren't far off from what he prefers now – though the fit has shortened by nearly two centimeters in both reach and saddle height on account of his now more relaxed demeanor on the bike.

"I haven't ridden one of my old race bikes for a long time, but I don't think they handle any different than what I enjoyed when I was racing," he said. "Now that I am a dedicated café 'tourerererer' my demands are less on the speed of the bike than they are feeling good on my ride. So I want a bike that is light and handles extremely well on descents and switchbacks, especially if I am trying to race rain showers. I want to finish my rides without my body hurting and have the energy to ride more if my (imagined) schedule would allow it.

"As it happens what I demand from my bike now is exactly how Eddy designed bikes," he went on to say. "Make a comfortable ride that lets a racer feel great and full of energy at the end of the race."

Despite offers from collectors, Hampsten says he'll never sell the bike to anyone as it holds too dear a place in his heart and too many fond memories.

"[That bike] is what carried me through the defining moment of my career as a bike racer," he said. "I never thought I would face crazy weather on the crucial stage of what is the biggest race I ever won, so I never prepared for that mentally. I dreamed of being a bike racer for most of my life, and I dealt with winter six months of the year when I was young. So when my moment was met with snow on the Gavia pass I got far enough past my fears to accept that I was in for a hard time, but it was going to be my hard time. I might have been better at being a bike racer than winning bike races, and on this bike I went farther past the "can't dos" in my mind than I have ever imagined possible.

"On the Gavia I was never, never, never going to give up."

Stories for the Italian Cycling Journal about rides, granfondos, racing, having a good time cycling in Italy, Italian cycling history, etc. are very welcome. Contact me at veronaman@gmail.com. There are more than 1,400 stories in this blog. The search feature to the right works best for finding subjects in the blog and there is also a translate button at the bottom so you can translate each page.

Update: Gavia Pass for Saturday

Above: the Gavia Pass yesterday

As the peloton's focuses its attention on the Mortirolo today the Giro organizers are constantly monitoring the Gavia Pass (m. 2618) which is in tomorrow's stage. The situation is raising concerns, especially for the forecast of heavy snowfall.

At the moment there has not been any official announcement of a possible change of course. However, plans to change the course are already drawn up. The alternative route, in case of worsening weather, keeps the start in Bormio and then ascends Trivigno Tirano (the descent today); the route then continues to Aprica, then down again on Tirano to reach Grosio in order to arrive at Mortirolo from the north - west (first time in the Giro). At 3 km from the summit the route rejoins the "Classic Mortirolo". Then down to Monno and the final climb that leads to Ponte di Legno / Tonale.

It was on the Gavia Pass ascent in 1988 in which Andy Hampsten won pink jersey after he devastated a field of near-frozen Giro d'Italia riders over the snow covered pass.

Hampsten is the only American to ever have won the Giro d'Italia. Here, Hampsten recounts that events of that day in 1988:

"We were about 400-500 meters above sea level, in this big valley in Lombardy… and it was snowing. Most of us on the 7-Eleven team were from Colorado, and were pretty good at math, and if it’s snowing and you go up… and it’s SNOWING… it’s slushy, it’s coming down and then melting, it’s belting in… There’s no hint of anything changing, looking at the weather forecast. So the Giro organizers held an emergency meeting with all the team managers, telling them “hey, we’re doing the race, the roads open, snowplows are keeping it clear. It’s not icy on the Gavia, but it is snowing.”When we left it was just raining… kind of sleet-rain, but bucketing down. We went over the Aprica pass, a category 2 with a pretty short descent, but even on that descent I was wearing ALL the warm clothes I could possibly put on. I was shaking uncontrollably on that silly little descent. Then we were up at about 800 meters (altitude) climbing on a long false flat. A break went away and my team was chasing it but we weren’t going too hard, there wasn’t anyone really dangerous up there.And everyone was freaked out. All the racers were just… “scared”. The roads were wet, we’re just getting soaked to the skin. The cloud cover’s really low, it’s belting down on us, it’s really thick clouds, sometimes it’s foggy, sometimes we’re just below the clouds. We just kno-o-o-w it’s gonna be incredibly cold.Andy’s voice lifts for a moment when he remembers “My team was taking really good care of me bringing me hot tea every 5 km, we had a big thermos, our team was really well prepared. They’re asking “Andy – should we chase that break? Should we catch ‘em before the mountains?” But we just did tempo, I think Chiocciolli’s team with the leaders jerseys did a moderate tempo as well.

We went through the town of Ponte di Legno, across the wooden bridge, then we turned left towards the Gavia. It’s a gradual climb for about 4km, things are stringing out a little bit but there’s quite a bit of talk amongst (primarily) Italians… about ‘hey, let’s have a little strike, let’s not really race it, let’s get in the cars, let’s just go home’…And someone says: ‘hey Andy, you’re not gonna attack are you?’I just looked at him… and I didn’t say… a word....they knew damn well I was going to attack. The road was still paved, but after a couple of km it turns to dirt. My team doctor - Dr. Massimo Testa – who’s from Como and knew the roads really well told me it would go around a left hand turn, still paved, then narrow to one lane under a grove of fir trees, and it’ll be 16%, right away, and turn to dirt.

So sure enough, I was right at the front, with my teammates doing tempo. Road turns to dirt… and it’s a long way to go. But I knew everyone was terrified… I was scared… So I attacked.Not a hundred percent, but because everyone was sooo intimidated by the whole climb… It was the climb of the race, everyone had been talking about it. Gianni Motta, who was always really friendly with Americans, super encouraging, told me the first day ‘you can win this race, and you can win it on THAT day…’ And they hadn’t used it for 30 years – the last time was 1961 & 62 when Charly Gaul won both stages into Bormio…It’s a really hard climb 18% in parts, never really gets below 10%… dirt, one lane road – a really good dirt road, with every few hundred meters there’s a little parking place carved out of the mountain, so when two cars meet, one can pull over and pass…Steady, steep grades, tons of switchbacks. The top is paved for about 3 km. Then it turns back to dirt on the way down, pretty much a one lane road, incredible number of switchbacks… turns, gradual turns, super sharp turns…

Usually in a race I’d go 100% up a climb and be able to hold it together in good weather, even rainy weather, on the descent. But, when my head’s spinning a little due to the effort on the uphill. I’m risking losing time due to a crash on the downhill. So in these conditions, I decided to go up the hill at 90-95%. Physically, but psychologically the uphill there I was producing some heat, while for the downhill, I just kneeew… because the storm was coming from the north, which was the direction we were traveling – I knew the descent would be colder and snowier than the climb.When I attacked it was still pretty much raining, but within a few kms, it turned into big, heavy snowflakes, plummeting down – like in the Christmas movies…So I dropped everyone right away, and it was in the switchbacks so I could really see my main rivals – Breukink, Zimmerman, Chiocciolli, stretched out behind me, it’s too steep for anyone to organize anything… I like dirt – I really like riding on dirt roads, I was kind of having fun (he chuckles). It wasn’t gravelly or chunky, it was a good dirt road, no potholes. A perfectly fine dirt road to ride your bike on, soft enough that I could see my tires were leaving imprints, so quite a bit of resistance, but technically nothing challenging. Which was wonderful, because over the top I was testing to see if it was icy, and it wasn’t. It was just slush on top of a very wet dirt road, so it wasn’t ever very dangerous…When we had a meeting in the morning, we were more worried about the descent, due to the weather, than the climb. So I certainly kept that in mind. Even when I attacked with 18km still go… I was thinking ‘okay you’re going to go really hard, but it’s a really long climb – obviously don’t blow it – ‘So on the way up it turned to snow, I could see I was opening gaps up, checking the time splits, catching a bunch of riders who had been away. Johan Vandevelde had jumped away earlier, and he was a bit up the road, and I was slowwwly closing on him, but I was trying to be first over the mountain…A few kms from the top I got a bottle of hot tea from one of my soigneurs we’d planted there. 2 kms from the top I got a musette bag filled with clothes that each one of us prepared and gave to Jim Ochiwizc (our team manager), and we were the only team to prepare warm clothes for this whole thing…On the way up I got rid of all of my warm clothes, my legs were bare, no shoe covers. I did have a pair of neoprene diving gloves that I kept on for the entire climb. Along the way my team car gave me a neck-gator and a wool hat.I wanted to dry my hair before I put it on – maybe 4-5 ks before the top, so I brushed through my hair, thinking I was going to wipe some water out, and a big snowball rolled off my head, and down my back.I thought – ‘Oh my gosh – I’m really not producing much heat, even though I’ve been going up a really hard grade.’ So then I had my raincoat, a super thin polypro undershirt on , so my arms were covered, but I was NOT warm at the top of the mountain. We could spend a few hours while I figure out how to describe how cold I was…

But I was thinking ‘it’s still a race, I’ve still got to get down the other side, as fast as I can. I kept pedaling on the downhill, but no one was there – no team car. Breukink – I followed him for a few hundred meters and figured out he had no clue how to ride in the snow and I’d rather make my own mistakes. Visibility was okay, but it was probably 20 or 30 yards. I kept one gear moving because all my other gears were frozen up with ice. It was –4 celsius (25F) at the top.There was slushy snow on the road, they’d been plowing the road beforehand, but stopped probably an hour before we came over. I think I was riding in a 53x 14 or 15, and I pedaled the whole way down. I’ve been back twice, in the summer, so I know now what the road actually looks like – it’s a fantastic road. But you can’t go very fast on it anyway, because it’s soo narrow, and soo many turns, there’s really no place you can open it up and go too fast…

I told myself “neevvvver look down at my legs”…so I looked down at my legs and the were bright red with a sheet of ice on my shins… I thought ‘man I’m in biiiigg trouble…’ I know there’s nothing on the mountain, if I stop, there’s no team car behind me because it’s too snowy – they can’t go, the Giro directeur was already down in the next village just hoping the race came by, there’s no lead motorcycle, nothing out there.There was one Carrera team mechanic with a spare pair of wheels on the dirt downhill, just walking down the middle of the road, sweaarrring and ranting because he’s been left alone, thinking they cancelled the race and no one told him about it… he freaked and shouted when I went past him.Meanwhile Vandevelde - I didn’t see it but he stopped. This road goes back to Napoleon, and there’s 2 refuges, he stopped at the second one, his team gave him a cotton hat and a plastic raincoat … and he just freaked out – he finished 48 minutes later. He was sooo cold, and so unprepared for the descent…

So I’m on my way down, I don’t care about the race I don’t care about anything, I’m pissing and moaning and grumbling, done asking God to come help me and I’ll make a deal with the devil if he shows up! (laughing) But there’s just me and my silly bike and there is a village after 15km of descending and I’m just telling myself to go go go. I knew if I put a foot down I was just going to freeze up. I can’t tell you how cold I was, but I was calculating “can I make it to that town?’ The only choice was to just keep going, try to create some heat – braking and pedaling at the same time.But I think I was going at a fairly good pace for the conditions because it was snow until about 3kms before the village of Santa Catarina and by that time I’m trying to do little tricks with myself – ‘oh joy! now it’s just sleet – it’s warmed up to just freezing!’ And I really don’t know if I’m going to make, it but I’m committed to going as hard as I can. Breukink caught me with about 8ks to go, and I tried to jump on his wheel… he must not have nee far behind me on the descent. I could not hold his wheel, but then I thought I could use him as a bit of a rabbit playing the silly game in my head… ’is it warmer to put on the brakes and go down this hill at 10 mph, or is it better to go 40-50 mph on this straight 8% slope?’ I’m going to get there quicker, but am I going to get hypothermia? But I figured if it’s so cold that I’m in danger of freezing, I’m just going to fall off my bike anyway… So I kept going down, kept him within 7 seconds at the end. I didn’t even want to stop at the finish line, but I didn’t even know where the hotel was anyway! (laughing) So I just sort of collapsed at the finish line, got warmed up, putting on the pink jersey, which was really really fantastic. At that point I ‘kind of’ cared about the race more than a hot bath… but not by a long shot… As a postscript, I asked Andy if he ever gets tired of talking about his racing days – he must have told the Gavia story a million times!Says Andy: “No, no. Talking about the Gavia… I get… pretty emotional each time. I’ve been back a couple of times to ride it with journalists and recount the day, and man, I’m waaasted by the end of the day…!”

Notes: Andy's story appeared in http://www.pezcycling.com/

Stories for the Italian Cycling Journal about rides, granfondos, having a good time cycling in Italy, Italian cycling history, etc. are very welcome. Contact me at veronaman@gmail.com. There are more than 1,400 stories in this blog. The search feature to the right works best for finding subjects in the blog and there is also a translate button at the bottom so you can translate each page.

World Champion Cadel Evans Targets Giro Victory

For the first time in eight years, Australian Cadel Evans will contest the Giro d'Italia, and he's going there to get results. Racing this season with the Professional Continental team BMC Racing Team, Evans is still awaiting word that the team has gained an invitation to any Grand Tour, but is planning his season around both the Giro and the Tour de France.

Speaking at the team's camp in Agoura Hills, California, Evans said that racing back-to-back Grand Tours has served him well in the past - in 2007 he took second in the Tour de France to Alberto Contador then turned around and just missed the podium at the Vuelta a Espana by a slim 10 seconds.

Last year, he had his "worst Tour de France ever", but then placed third in the Vuelta and followed that up with a win in the International Cycling Union (UCI) World Road Championships. The Giro-Tour double, Evans said, is not "completely unconventional thinking in an approach to the Tour. It fits in well with the new team and fits in well with what I'd like to do this year".

Evans has carried his strong late-season form through the winter, and has already come out swinging in the Tour Down Under. His ferocious attack on the Willunga stage not only put the rainbow bands center stage, but also showed a new Cadel Evans: one who seems more relaxed, confident and ready to race more aggressively than ever before. He credits the change more to his new team than his success in Mendrisio, Switzerland last fall.

"Everything has fallen into place in the off-season, the season started off well, and I hope it's a sign of things to come. A new team, no motivation - it puts me in a good mindset for sure. I'm really looking forward to 2010," he said.

His preparation for the Giro d'Italia is still contingent on the team being invited to certain races, but he hopes to race Tirreno-Adriatico, Criterium International and the Ardennes Classics La Flèche Wallonne and Liège - Bastogne - Liège.

"I brought everything forward a bit compared to the past when I've been going for the Tour de France,” he said. “I've always tried to be good for April so in that respect it's not going to change that much."

This year's Giro d'Italia features several daunting mountain stages: stage 15 finishes atop the monstrously steep Zoncolan, stage 16 is a time trial up Plan de Corones, and stage 19 to Aprica over the Mortirolo is a mere warm-up for the epic penultimate stage finishing on Passa del Tonale which passes over the famed Passo di Gavia. (See related related articles, Hardest Climbs of the 2010 Giro d'Italia , Climbing the Zoncolan, Pietro on the Gavia)

Coming right before the final stage, a time trial in Verona, the Gavia stage is certain to be decisive. "I'm going to ride it in training first just to find out how hard it's going to be,” he said. “There are a few mammoth stages in the Giro, but that's OK. I don't mind those."

Source: www.cyclingnews.com

Photo: Evans going on to win the 2009 World Championship

Stories for the Italian Cycling Journal about rides, granfondo, having a good time cycling in Italy, Italian cycling history, etc. are very welcome. Contact me at veronaman@gmail.com. There are more than 1,200 stories in this blog. The search feature to the right works best for finding subjects in the blog and there is also a translate button at the bottom so you can translate each page.

Hardest Climbs of the 2010 Giro d'Italia

Hardest climbs of the 2010 Giro d'Italia:


Stage 8: Chianciano-Terme-Terminillo 189 km 189: Terminillo max height 1672 meters, 16.1 long, 1172 meters of altitude gain, average grade 7.3%, max grade 12%


Stage 14: Ferrara-Asolo km 201: Monte Grappa, (max height 1675 meters, 18.9 Km long, 1501 meters of elevation gain, average grade 7.9%, max grade 14%


Stage 15: Mestre-Monte Zoncolan km 218: Monte Zoncolan max height 1730 meters, 10.1 Km long, 1200 meters of elevation gain, average grade 11.9%, max grade 22%. Read a ride story of the Zoncolan here.


Stage 16: San Vigilio di Marebbe-Plan de Corones, individual TT of 12.9 km; Plan de Corones max height 2273 meters, 12.85 km long, 1086 meters of elevation gain, average grade 8.5%, max grade 24%


Stage 17: Brunico-Peio Terme km 173: Passo delle Palade max height 1523 meters, 18.9 km long, 1242 meters of elevation gain, average grade 6.6%, max grade 16%


Stage 19: Brescia-Aprica km 195: Aprica max height 1173 meters, km 13.95 km long, 503 m of elevation gain, average grade 3.6%, max grade 15); Trivigno max height 1608 meters, 11 km long, 838 m of elevation gain, average grade 7.6%, max grade 14%; Passo del Mortirolo max height 1854 meters, 12.8 km long, 1317 m of elevation gain, average grade 10.3%, max grade 18%


Stage 20: Bormio-Ponte di Legno Tonale km 178: Forcola di Livigno max height 2315 meters, 18 km long, 1278 m of elevation gain, average grade 7,1%, max grade 13%); Passo di Gavia (Cima Coppi) (max height 2618 meters, 24,9 km long, 1399 meters of elevation gain, average grade 5,6%, max grade 14%); Passo del Tonale max height 1883 meters, 11 km long, 631 meters of elevation gain, avergae grade 5.7%, max grade 10%. Gavia ride story here.


Note: some of the above stages also include lesser climbs(!).


Photo: on the Zoncolan


Stories, including cycling trip stories, for the Italian Cycling Journal welcome; contact veronaman@gmail.com. See here for a chance to win a T-shirt for submitting a story; contest ends October 31st.

Pietro on the Gavia

Peter, aka "Pietro", files his fifth, now riding with the Andy Hampsten tour.

"Sunday, August 30, 2009: Day 3 Gavia ride from Bormio to Gavia Summit, 21 Km climb to summit @ 2621 meters; the famous Gavia where Andy Hampsten took the lead in 1988 Giro d’Italia in snow, rain and sleet.

Wake up at 7 AM. Breakfast is @ 7:30 AM. I check out weather. Clear skies but cool. Ride leaves @ 9 AM. Legs feel much better this morning.

I decide to take backpack and put winter vest, long sleeve jacket and long finger gloves in it. I put on knee warmers, arm warmers and Andy’s Maglia Rosa jersey. I don’t want to be cold again. I also decide to wear heart rate monitor strap. This was a good move.

It takes me a while to warmup and naturally the warmup is uphill. I get a sense of my heart rate and I need to keep it below 125. I adjust the pedal cadence to keep heart rate within this limit throughout the climb (except on the steeper sections where I reached 130).

The Gavia climb from Bormio is beautiful. A combination of scenery. The mountains are, as usual, impressive. You look out over the valleys and see houses sprinkled on the mountain side. Wow!!

I’m feeling pretty good. I ride first part of ride with Steve (he lives in Tulsa and will turn 60 in a month or two). I’m a little ahead at the beginning then he is ahead. We stay together up to about 2000 m when he stops to eat. I continue.

Can I attain the Italian climb (feet don’t touch the ground) as Angelo keeps reminding me?

As it turns out, I think the Gavia climb is easier than Stelvio. There are steeper sections but then it flattens out. These small grades and flats give me a chance to recover. I maintain heart rate below 125.

As I climb higher I finally reach a sign that says 10% grade. Ugh!!! This is where my heart rate spikes to 130. I stand. I sit. As it turns out, these steeper sections are not that long. But occurring near the end of the climb, it hurts.

Finally, I get to a sign saying 4.5 km to summit. From here, it is a very gradual climb and even some flats. Legs are fatigued so I’m glad steeper grades are over. Then I reach the 2.5 km sign. Finally, I come around a turn and look into the distance at the summit and it’s UPHILL!!! I just grind away in my 30-29 combination.

Nirvana has been reached, the top. I did the climb with the feet never touching the ground. I climbed the Gavia in 2-3/4 hours and I wasn’t the last one up.

We have a picnic at the summit. Recovery. I can’t each much other than some cheese, soda, juice.

I get my picture taken with Andy by the Gavia Summit sign. I go into the shop on top and buy a really nice Gavia jacket.

And finally, we all gather around to hear Andy tell the story of his and his team’s (Bob Roll, Ron Kiefel, Jeff Pierce, Davis Phiney, R. Acula, etc) epic ascent on the Gavia in the snow, sleet and rain. Actually, he won the race on the down hill because his team had bought all the warm weather gear the day before. As Andy tells it, there was fear in the eyes of all the riders. He could see it. He attacked. He and his team were prepared, went for it and made history. He finished seven seconds behind stage winner Erik Breukind in Bormio.

After the story, it is time to get back on the bike and head downhill. A few of the people went down the other side for 4-5 km to see the old abandoned road which Andy climbed up that day.

On the downhill, I ended up behind a car that did not pull over. My hands were getting tired of breaking when I finally had an opportunity to pass this idiot. The couple from Nashville (Rich and Stephanie) followed. Il Falco (me) was good on the descent. I had to watch out for the rough road. When I got to a hairpin, I would look up to see that I increase my lead on the couple. Finally, we hit some nice smooth roads with no more hairpins. I was flying. On a flatter section, the couple caught me and I sucked their wheel. Then another steeper downhill, I passed and was flying. We cruised into Bormio together. Great downhill.

Tomorrow we take bus to Bolzano, then ride bikes rest of the way to Alleghe (100 km, two passes).

Pietro"

Photos: Pietro, Andy speaking to the group about the day he won the Giro d'Italia, Andy Hampsten

Stories, including cycling trip stories, for the Italian Cycling Journal welcome; contact veronaman@gmail

Andy Hampsten on the Gavia Poster

These posters are now available, and there are a limited number of signed ones (specify in your order). Posters are 22" X 16" on heavy archival paper suitable for framing. Price is $30 + $5 shipping, please allow 4-6 weeks for delivery. Personal checks preferred:
Hampsten Cycles
4200 NE 105th St
Seattle, WA 98125

Read Andy's account of that day here. Interested in riding with Andy? Read:

"Andy Hampsten and the Gavia (and a few other Passes)", Part I, Part II, and Part III.

Stories, including cycling trip stories, for the Italian Cycling Journal welcome; contact veronaman@gmail.com

Part III: Andy Hampsten and the Gavia (and a few other Passes)

Part III, and last, of Buzz Yancich's story of riding with Andy Hampsten.

Andy Hampsten and the Gavia (and a few other Passes), Part III

Alleghe, continued

As important as the riding is there is also the food, wine, story telling and camaraderie. We all enjoyed Andy’s wine tasting on the deck of our hotel overlooking the picturesque lake in Alleghe as much as that day’s riding.

Wine tasting and a few more stories

Not only did Andy make his own history racing in Europe but also had a front seat to it. We enjoyed his insights into Lemond and Hinault during the 1986 Tour and many other revelations about the world of professional cycling.

Culinary diversions:

Pizza:

Ex-espresso

Local Pear Grappa

Hampsten’s crew is hand picked from diverse backgrounds and they really add a great dimension to the trip. Journalist Bruce Hildenbrand who is a walking encyclopedia of cycling history, a former mountain bike racer now turned Lute maker, the lovely Elaine, amongst others and our “patron saint” Gerardo – an Italian bike shop owner who doesn’t speak any English and yet can seemingly communicate with you on a telepathic basis in the most humorous way imaginable. A sort of modern day Harpo Marx – brilliant.

Topping it off are the riders themselves. We had a great collection of folks including my now dear friends Bob and Susan Long, Ken Whiteside, Susie and Corey from Alaska and my riding pal Andy Bowdle. If you want inspiration, try riding and sharing great meals and many bottles of wine with folks who are curious by nature, have a constant smile on their face and know that with PERSISTENCE any obstacle in life can be conquered. That’s the way to live. Isn’t that why we all love cycling?

Dinner time - Salut!

Of course, any trip to ride in Italy is bound to be a unique experience whether it is booked through a cycle touring company or a solo effort. The riding is sublime but what sticks with you in the months after your return home is the hospitality, the respect towards cyclists, the food and wine culture and that daily espresso made by the local guy who makes you feel like an old friend.

Getting the opportunity to ride with Poli and Hampsten took the experience to another level. It is interesting that they are so different in their physical make up and personalities and yet they are very similar in their love of cycling and now showing others the joy of riding in Italy. It also struck me that both of these men put themselves in the right place at moments in their racing careers and then had the courage to seize the day under the most difficult conditions. Hampsten on the Gavia and Poli on Mt. Ventoux. It is a lesson for all of us. When your moment comes dare yourself to go beyond your comfort zone.

In this media driven sports celebrity age, it is also refreshing that such historical figures in the sport are frankly such decent guys who genuinely seem interested in making sure that your experience is the best one possible.

It is fair to say that I never expected the Italian cycling experience to be so indelible. We all became so enamored of our time in Italy that our group is headed back this September for another go at it.

To paraphrase Eros Poli: “I know everyone in America thinks that the best riding is in France because of the Tour, believe me I love France but, please, let’s be honest, the riding in Italy is better…the roads, the food, the wines…I mean, please, it’s just better.”

Agreed. Better yet, go find out for yourself!

Back in Verona at trip’s end with some of the crew for one last Aperol Spritz in the Piazza del Erbe before flying home.

Buzz and friends rode Hampsten S&S Coupler bikes designed by Steve Hampsten at: http://www.hampsten.com/

Trips to Italy with Andy Hampsten are found at: http://www.cinghiale.com/

Most importantly, directions for making an Aperol Spritz can be found at: http://www.aperol.com/aperol/english/sprizz.htm

Part I of Buzz Yancich's story: http://italiancyclingjournal.blogspot.com/2009/08/part-i-andy-hampsten-and-gavia-and-few.html

Part II of Buzz Yancich's story: http://italiancyclingjournal.blogspot.com/2009/08/part-ii-andy-hampsten-and-gavia-and-few.html

Stories, including cycling trip stories, for the Italian Cycling Journal welcome; contact veronaman@gmail.

Part II: Andy Hampsten and the Gavia (and a few other Passes)

We continue with Part II of Buzz Yancich's story of riding with Andy Hampsten.

Andy Hampsten and the Gavia (and a few other Passes), Part II

Alleghe

The remainder of our trip was based out of picturesque setting of Alleghe and featured the jagged peaks and spires of the Dolomites – a terrain that can’t be found anywhere else in the world.

The view from our hotel in Alleghe.

Our rides featured the Marmolada, Passo Duran, Passo di Campolongo, Passo di Costalunga, Rolle, Gardegna, Campolungo, and Sella. We had good weather with only a couple of damp days.

Dolomites - spectacular.

There is not a lot of handholding by Hampsten. He sets the stage for you, so to speak, and then steps back to allow you to discover the experience for yourself. It is obviously a formula that works as the majority of the riders on the trip were returning clients.

Stopping for photos is required!

Hampsten moves around the group quite a bit, a daunting task considering on climbs of these lengths it is only natural that the group strings out as everyone rides at their own pace. As mentioned earlier, Hampsten is still in remarkably lean and muscular. I remember following him up the Marmolada and seeing the outline of his spine and his back muscles clearly through his wool jersey.

It didn’t take long to realize that like all great athletes he has a deep inner focus and willingness to commit himself 100% to the task at hand. It was a real treat to be able to ride with him.

Typical view along the way – all day long.

Every turn holds a surprise.

To be continued............

Trips to Italy with Andy Hampsten are found at: http://www.cinghiale.com/

Part I of Buzz Yancich's story: http://italiancyclingjournal.blogspot.com/2009/08/part-i-andy-hampsten-and-gavia-and-few.html

Stories, including cycling trip stories, for the Italian Cycling Journal welcome; contact veronaman@gmail.

Part I: Andy Hampsten and the Gavia (and a few other Passes)

Guest writer Buzz Yancich is back with another wonderful story, this one about riding with Andy Hampsten. Part I:


Andy Hampsten and the Gavia (and a few other Passes)


Smiling Andy


After our whirlwind adventures with Eros Poli in Verona we were all excited about the main phase of our trip – the reason we had come to Italy in the first place - to ride Andy Hampsten’s Dolomite Summit Fest: seven days of the best of the Dolomites including the Stelvio, Gavia, Passo Duran, Selle Ring, Marmolada and a whole host of other climbs and passes.



The highlight of the trip would be to celebrate, by riding to the top of the Passo Gavia, the 20th Anniversary of Andy’s history making ride of the Gavia – a day which put him in the Maglia Rosa and led him to winning the 1988 Giro becoming the first, and so far, only American to win the Giro.


Hampsten is a fairly well known figure in Italy – once you get the pronunciation of his name right. During a taxi ride in Verona our driver asked us where we were headed. I explained that we had come to Italy to ride the Dolomites with Andy Hampsten. The driver gave me a blank stare and shrugged his shoulders. I said “You know, Andy Hampsten.” The driver indicated he didn’t know that name. At this point I was getting a little frustrated. I mean, give the USA homeboy a little love – the only American to win the Giro . I persisted, “Andy Hampsten…Giro d’Italia…Gavia...” The light then went on for the driver. “Ah, Gavia, you mean AHNDEE AMPASTEENAY! Grand Campionissimo”.


Hampsten’s Dolomiti Epic would be held in two parts: The first three days would be based out of Bormio, a northern Alpine town noted for its thermal spa waters favored by the ancient Romans giving us direct access to the Stelvio and Gavia and the last four days would be based out of Alleghe, a small ski town nestled on a beautiful lake ringed in all directions by the jagged spires and peaks of the Dolomites and ideal for accessing the nearby Selle Ring, Pordoi, Marlmolada and others.


It might surprise some to tell you that Andy Hampsten, the only American to ever win the Giro D’Italia, as well as a lengthy list of other International races, is a remarkably low key and approachable guy. He responds personally to e-mails and telephone calls and helped us with some great recommendations before the start of our trip – including hooking us up with Eros Poli.


We met Andy in Verona and the first impression is that he still looks like he is in race shape and it is obvious that he has a great deal of self discipline about keeping himself lean and fit.


After a brief “meeting” in Verona we loaded up for the four hour bus ride to the base of the Stelvio where we were scheduled to get on our bikes and tackle one of the great cycling climbs – some say the greatest, in the world.



When we emerged from the bus at the base of the Stelvio to start our Dolomiti Epic we were all surprised to see that Hampsten was wearing a brown polo shirt and khaki mountain bike shorts that stood in direct contrast to everyone else’s team kit. Whether Hampsten’s subdued choice in clothing was on purpose or not it set a relaxed tone that would be carried for the remainder of our trip. What he had in mind for us was not so much about racing up the sides of these mountains but taking time to enjoy the challenge of the terrain, the Italian roads, the scenery, the food culture, the local people and the overall Dolce Vita of riding a bicycle in Italy.



Andy’s advice: Keep pedaling and enjoy the view.


Our first two days would involve tackling the Stelvio. First up the famed 48 hairpins from Prato and the next day from Bormio on the day the road was closed to all motor traffic. Simply put, the Stelvio is a must do for anyone that loves to ride uphill. “Epic” was a word that got thrown around a lot by our group… everyday… about every climb. And truly, the Stelvio may be the most “epic” of them all.


My good friend and riding partner Andy Bowdle and I were trudging up the Stelvio (picture two rowers chained together in a Roman slave ship movie) awed by the scenery, the road and the sheer power of the climb when Hampsten rode past us shouting out a “hey guys – looking good there” while at the same time actually pushing a cyclist uphill in our group whose pedal had broken.


Obligatory Stelvio Photo



47 tornante later...



Now the fun begins – the descent to Bormio

Stelvio Bike Day- 5,000 cyclists and not a single car on the road

Our visit to Bormio was timed to coincide with the closing of the Stelvio to motor traffic for one day each year. All the local bike clubs turn out in force as well as cyclists from around Europe to enjoy a car free day. The climb up from Bormio is just as spectacular as the famed 48 hairpin turn ascent. It features 38 or so hairpins a couple of galleria – open window tunnels and endless views.

Stelvio Tunnel Galleria

The view back down towards Bormio

Each Tornante or hairpin turn gets its own special sign. We also appreciate how well each turn is marked with black and white chevrons indicating the approach of the turn.

Local cycling clubs had organized rest stops stocked with fruit pastries and other edible treats along with a variety of beverages including a restorative tea, honey and lemon drink we dubbed “Stelvio Tea.”

The top of the Stelvio on Bike Day

After two spectacular days of riding the Stelvio we soon settled into our routine: Healthy breakfast, the day’s ride, a mid day lunch on top of a mountain, the post ride shower, late afternoon exploring or nap, dinner, wine, wander around Bormio at night, a nightcap or two and then a deep sleep in the alpine night air.

Gavia Day

Gavia day arrived and the group was buzzing with anticipation. This was it. Quite a few members of the group showed up that morning wearing commemorative pink wool jersey’s to celebrate the day. Hampsten himself was kitted up with a pink jersey and was all smiles as he described the route for before leading us out.

The climb up from Bormio began with a long uphill pull through a valley along a cascading river and through some Alpine villages. Eventually, the climb itself began.

There are two ways to climb the Gavia, from the Bormio and from Ponte di Legno. In point of fact, the 1988 Giro ascended the Gavia from Ponte di Legno and descended to Bormio. Once at the top there was an option for us to descend to Ponte di Legno and turn around and climb back up retracing Hampsten’s race day. Of course, that meant climbing the Gavia twice in one day – a tall order after hitting the 9,000 foot Stelvio for two straight days.

The climb up the Gavia was beautiful. It is a road that in places a bit rougher than the Stelvio but also has far less vehicle traffic. In fact, we pretty much had the road to ourselves on the ascent.

Make no mistake, although the climb up from the Bormio side is considered “easier” there was nothing “easy” about it. It is a tough, long haul with some sustained steep sections but once again the scenery more than makes up for the effort of the climb.

Eventually we arrived at the top where Refugio Bonetta is conveniently stationed full of memorabilia from the times the Giro has passed including various photo montages featuring of Hampsten himself. (Another GREAT feature of riding in Italy is the seeming presence of a Refugio – a café / restaurant / rest stop located that the top of every mountain pass we crossed)

Collection of memorabilia at Refugio Bonetta

Andy and his crew had a great lunch set up for us made up of local breads, meats, cheeses, chocolates and the like. They did this everyday for us. We picnicked right at the top of the pass in a little rest stop area. As if on cue a fog rolled in a bit to set the mood and as we gathered Andy set about telling us what led to the day in a snow blizzard during the middle of the Giro that changed his life. Anyone interested in all the details should go to http://www.hampsten.com/Bikes/ClassicRoad/5June.pdf#search=%22The%20day%20the%20strong%20men%20cried%22 for an excellent article written by cyclo journalist Bruce Hildenbrand. Lunch time/story time.

As we were soaking up the atmosphere standing at the top we were approached by an Italian cyclist wearing a local team kit. He was probably in his 50s. Several of us were riding bikes designed by Andy’s brother Steve bearing the Hampsten moniker. The Italian rider was drawn to the bikes that were leaning up against a fence and was inspecting them when we approached to say hello.

He asked us if the Hampsten bikes were related to Andy Hampsten and when we confirmed that they were he then launched into a story about his day on the Gavia 20 years earlier when he witnessed the race in person. I should tell you that this gentleman did not speak any English and we spoke even less Italian. He spoke very passionately in a blur of Italian, nonstop for five minutes about Hampsten and the Gavia. It didn’t matter that we didn’t understand the words because it we certainly understood his emotions. He was wrapping up his tale when he rubbed his bare arms, pointed at the road just yards away from us and said: “Hampsten freddo, freddo” which we knew meant “cold, cold,” Yes, the tifosi were really impressed by Hampsten’s ride that day – a day in which cycling and the Giro itself was honored by a skinny American racer from North Dakota.

Realizing that this man did not know the actual Andy Hampsten was standing about 15 feet away from us, my friend and I looked at him and said “Andy Hampsten?” The man, standing up straight as if he had been challenged stated very proudly said “Si, Andy Hampsten.”

We turned him around and pointed out the Campionissimo himself. The look on the Italian’s face was priceless as his jaw dropped and without missing a beat he left us and walked right over to Hampsten where Andy engaged him in conversation. (Hampsten speaks fluent Italian).

We thought to ourselves that guy sure was going to have a story to tell his cycling buddies when he got home and so would we!

Hampsten and friends – all smiles

After lunch a group of us descended to Ponte di Legno to retrace the climb Andy took to his place in cycling history. I wasn’t sure about how wise it would be to do this. After all we had ridden the Stelvio twice and descending the backside of the Gavia would mean turning around at the bottom and climbing another 6,000 feet in order to return to Bormio.

Stepping back in time and history. The old road raced by Hampsten in 1988 now bypassed by a tunnel. Imagine riding up that in a blizzard.

I’m glad I took up the challenge because the climb back up, retracing the actual route Hampsten rode that day, is a true cycling highlight. The climb is literally breathtaking in its beauty and challenge. The road, as wide as a sidewalk and in sections averaging a 16% grade, hugs the side of the mountain as it ascends.

The bottom of the climb where the road narrows to its’ sidewalk width is a brutal piece of work – like riding up a very steep driveway except it is kilometers long.

As I rode up the Gavia I couldn’t get over how Hampsten managed the climb. Keep in mind that in his day in 1988 the road was dirt from bottom to top and it was snowing and freezing.

I was surprised to learn that Hampsten had only returned to the Gavia a few times since his win in 1988. He told us that he had to dig really deep that day and went to places in his mind and body that he never hoped to experience again. I guess he left a bit of himself on the mountain that day. We sport fans are often unaware that the moments of triumph and glory for an athlete are actually the culmination of years of painful sacrifices and as Hampsten explained having to push yourself to places that a normal man would not willingly venture to.

Looking back on it I can’t remember the climb ever letting up. In fact, towards the top as one encounters a tunnel built since Hampsten’s 1988 foray and from there to the top - a couple of kilometers distance -the road begins to pitch up steeply again through a series of hairpins carved into the side of the mountain ravaged every year by the extreme winter conditions.

Really, for Americans, I think the Gavia is the most significant of climbs in Europe. That day proved an American based cycling team could win a major tour. Think too, of the hundreds if not thousands of Americans that have come to Italy to ride inspired by Hampsten’s all or nothing effort and his 1988 Giro win. Thanks Andy!

After coming off the mountain the descent back into Bormio featured a screaming 45 to 50 mph descent along the smoothest road I think I have ever encountered. It was like the road crew came out and repaved it that morning. All in all a spectacular day that featured more wine and food and laughter as the night wore on.

The remainder of our trip was based out of picturesque setting of Alleghe and featured the jagged peaks and spires of the Dolomites – a terrain that can’t be found anywhere else in the world.

To be continued............

Buzz Yancich's previous story was about riding with Eros Poli, and Verona (http://italiancyclingjournal.blogspot.com/2009/06/eros-poli-verona-experience.html ). An account by Andy Hampsten on his famous day on the Gavia can be read at http://italiancyclingjournal.blogspot.com/2008/03/20th-anniversary-andy-hampsten-giro.html. Stories, including cycling trip stories, for the Italian Cycling Journal welcome; contact veronaman@gmail.com