VecchioJo's blog

The last day, and as is traditional of cycling holidays, time to rip the legs off so as to sit on the aircraft home with happy achy legs and a chamois full of memories (hmmm, maybe I should rephrase that). I join the fast road tour guided by Felice, an ex-pro with a chinese whispers palmares that is impressive whichever version you listen to.

It's fair to say we started quite late, over half an hour to be honest, maybe even the full 60 minutes, thanks to some professional fafflage, but we could catch the group ride we should have been on, easy. Our steady pace would soon overhaul their migrating-herd big-group progress with their polite stopping and waiting-at-the-top. We'd have them within the hour.
Tops.

It's a sunny 30+ degrees, I'm on a De Rosa Idol, in the Romagna hills above Riccione courtesy of the Hotel Belvedere and on the first 5km climb out of the town my Partner In Climb has been found. Nice shaved walnut-brown long pistons.

La dolce vita, as they probably never actually say in Italy.

Out on the 'cross bike, clartering down the track of many ruts and rocks and I proper ptong off Something Big.

A corner, a kerb, a double-yellow line, a pair of cycle-clips, a paper-clip and a cigarette-butt.

Text from a friend.. ."So, ridden the Semnoz and the Forclas, Annecy. You ridden here? Where next then?"

It's been a blustery but steady ride. Tea and sandwiches have been paused for, two extra hills have been needlessly climbed "just because", Yorkshire Trifle has been invented, "Dances With Wolves" has been ruined for me, the average speed has been discussed and laughed at, we've gone up the Big Hill to minimal whimpering from my ride partner, and there's been minimal gagging from me since he isn't wearing his old and worn and quite, er, revealing shorts this week.

Strange things seen done on a ride.

#4 Road Kill

We have history.

Spend the last 15 miles of the ride thinking about crisps, it's been a hot one, face caked in horse-sweat, and salts need replenishing.

Crisps.