Things to love about Italy...

Ok, sometimes I get annoyed by problems in my country, but then I have to admit that I love it, and the good far outweighs the bad, for me at least!

Of course, the greatest compliment that can be made needs to come from an unbiased source.... for example, an American who has cycled in Italy as a pro cyclist. Interestingly enough, I just came across this entry in the Italian Cycling Journal (one of the blogs that I follow) about just how nice Italy and cycling here are.

Yes, this post put a smile on my face. Especially the bit about the Giro! Nice to see that Italy and our cycling being appreciated!

Mille grazie!

De Rosa Professional SLX

De Rosa Professional SLX. My original 'specialissima'.

So ladies and gentlemen, today I would like to take you for a ride down memory lane. Yes, indeed, that is a 1993 De Rosa Professional, Columbus SLX tubing, built up with a mixture of Campagnolo Corsa Record (8 speed), Super Record and a wee bit of Shimano.

She (all my bicycles are females) has a rather interesting history. I was attending graduate school at the time, and British Airways bent the back triangle of my previous bike to the point that a wheel would not fit into it. This De Rosa was therefore purchased at a bike shop in Manhattan, NYC, where I was living at the time, with my components switched over from the previous frame (a very nice Rossin SL). Yes, an Italian specialissima bought by an Italian in the United States. A bit complicated, but you get it.

Columbus SLX. Wonder-ride...

So, for the ignorant (or the very young) amongst you, Columbus SLX tubing was the top of the top in terms of steel (really the only serious option, beyond some funny 'beer can' alu frames by some American company called Cannondale... or a French Vitus not to be taken seriously by roadies at the time) and far better, in my humble unbiased Italian opinion, than the similar high grade stuff being made by Reynolds. The peculiarity of SLX tubing was that it was quite light for its time, but without losing its rigidity. This was accomplished by making the tube walls thin, but strengthening the 'high stress' sections with helicoidal (spiral) reinforcements inside the tubes. The ride was (is...) very nice, with little power lost to frame flex.

The geometry was classic pro for the time, and this was rumoured to have been developed by Ugo De Rosa for some Belgian guy named Eddy who won a few races here and there on De Rosa frames (occasionally rebadged)... Which translates into a relatively relaxed frame on which you could pedal all day with no aches or pains. And that was stable at any speed, although probably not the quickest steering bike around (criteriums, what are criteriums? we raced road races!).

Yup. Flat-head fork, along with some dirt and Dura Ace brakes, 1994 vintage, if I recall correctly.

Although there were some sleeker, 'modern' designs coming out at the time, this frame came with the flat-head fork, which was more rigid and never gave anything but the greatest feedback downhill (I descended the Iseran on this bike and hit speeds in excess of 90 km per hour... I was also younger and more reckless then).

Corsa Record derailleurs, 8 speed set-up, with 53x42 Super Record cranks. Look pedals

Components? Well, as I hinted in the introduction to this post, the bike is a bit of a mish-mash - remember, I was a grad student, and had to ask my dad for the cash to buy the frame. I was not exactly in the position to pick up a ful C-Record groupset (although I desperatly wanted to!). So 8 speed C-Record seatpost, derailleurs, hubs, freewheel and chain. Plus the Super Record cranks and bottom bracket that I already had.

Super Record cranks. Still a thing of beauty today.

I then opted for Shimano Dura Ace brakes, which were far cheaper than Campagnolo, as I was hearing rumours about trouble with Delta brakes, and the last thing I wanted riding in Central Park was trouble with my brakes (BTW, are the NYC yellow cabs as homicidal today as they were then?). I had regular Campagnolo friction shifters, which were replaced at a later date with Synchro II (Campagnolo's second attempt at index shifting, works ok, not great).

The original seat was a San Marco Rolls. Replaced by a Flite Titanium and later by this Flite Gel when I became old and fat and worried about my prostate. Hubs were mounted on Mavic GP4 rims and Clements. Replaced four years ago with a set of Open Pros (the GP4s were beyond truing salvation by that point).

The chromed chainstays are suffering...

The bike needs a bit of tlc, and I should probably contact De Rosa about repainting it (the chromed chainstays are starting to rust).

So, you ask, how was the ride. Yes, that good. Still is, matter of fact. I keep this bike at my parent's house, in hill country about 90 kms north of Rome. Quiet country roads with quite a bit of climbing. The bike is wonderful to ride. Really nice. Very comfortable. Descends on rails. A pleasure to look at. Takes a few minutes to get used to the levers on the frame, then you are fine.

My only complaints are the weight (clearly, it weighs a LOT more than my Cervelo) and the gearing - I don't remember, but I think my bailout gear is a 42x25? But that has more to do with my legs and fitness. Or lack thereof.

Still puts a heck of a smile on my face each time I ride the bike (which is not often enough!).

Ok so, tell me about your classic bike (only if it is still regularly ridden)!

Yummy...

Today I would like to discuss one of my favorite topics. Probably the thing I most like to talk about excluding bicycles... food. Being enthusiastic about food is useful in that it makes it possible for cyclists to interact with non-riders... after all, they don't understand how we could be excited about carbon fiber frames and riding for hours in lycra. And we don't understand how their lives have any meaning with cycling and salivating over new Campagnolo parts...

But I misled you with that intro. Because I will not beguile you with wonderful pictures and tales of Italian food. That will come... as the weather worsens and my desire to ride decreases, I have this sinking feeling I will post about Italian lunches, but that is still a few months away... hopefully!

Today I will discuss on-bike food. Clif bars, to be exact. You see, I have just discovered these little bundles of joy during my time in the US this summer. I had, as many roadies, a very traditional approach to these things. Riding food consisted of some combination of the following:

1. honey or nutella micro-sandwiches wrapped in tinfoil;
2. apple slices wrapped in tinfoil;
3. micro prosciutto sandwiches with a touch of olive wrapped in... yes, you guessed it;
4. pre-packaged apple sauce (a French brand, no, actually it is yummy); and/or
   
5. stops at bars for a pastry and coffee.

Yes, usually it was number five. I am a great forward planner, no really... but could you resist this after 50 km:

Ahhh, caffè e cornetto...

But then a terrifying problem rears its ugly head when you plan your riding in rural South Carolina. They do not have Italian espresso bars on every street corner. As a matter of fact, they do not have them anywhere. This is the closest thing I came across. I am not sure what the opening hours were, though:

I stayed away, a bit of a 'deliverance' feel to the place, wouldn't you agree?

So what is an increasingly hungry Italian cyclist going to do to stave off hunger... especially before his 45 million calorie lunch that is waiting for him when he returns from his ride?

Consumerism to the rescue! For 99 cents you too can purchase a Clif bar, which comes in about 300 different distinct flavors, from your local Trader Joe's (I like to show off and drop American store names, just to show how hip I am regarding the Americana shopping experience). These are in environmentally friendly wrappers that ensure that even in 40 centigrade heat in your sweaty jersey pocket for several hours there will be no effect on the contents.

Nothing left. Only the nuclear proof packaging.

When you open the package, the actual contents look like something that your dog might leave on the footpath during your (his? her?) daily walk. The consistency is a wee bit chewy. And you do need some water to get them to go down well.

Having said that, they are really, really yummy. As in, I wish I had brought a second one on the ride. The regular Chocolate Chip and Chocolate Chip Peanut Crunch (the only two flavors I tried) were both absolutely great. And I had no trouble eating them while riding...

Wow.

A happily refueled Powerful Pete riding along in his Fat Cyclist jersey!

Now if I could only find them in good old Italia. Carrying 1~2 on long rides is definitely an option.

Highly recommended. 4 out of 5 stars on the Happy Powerful Pete rating scale. Minus one star for the way they look when you pull 'em out of the package. So, if you get a chance, try 'em.

I am curious. Let me know if you like them, and what other fake cycling food you enjoy partaking while riding. And, for the American readers of this blog, I am curious about Clif Shot Bloks. So be nice and send me a few to sample. Mille grazie!

In the meantime, I will go back to my caffè e cornetto until I can locate a decently priced supplier here in the Old World.

What did he say?

I was just re-reading my Italian post, and realised that I had not provided an English synopsis for my rather significant (no really, hundreds... LOL) number of English language speakers. The post is about traffic and courtesy, or rather lack thereof, that I have noticed since coming back from my recent vacation in the US.

Now, as a European, I realise that it is my duty to complain about America. That's what we do! But one plus week of riding back in Rome, notwithstanding the fact that the city is almost deserted for August break, has me disgusted. The roads are in horrible shape, the way people drive is downright dangerous (especially for pedestrians and cyclists!) and there is litter everywhere. Maybe it's the big city mentality, but people simply are not courteous to others.

The exact opposite to my experience in South Carolina. The road infrastructure was fantastic, there was little or no litter by the roads (and Americans have volunteer adopt-a-highway programmes - something that is completely foreign to the Italian mentality), most drivers were quite courteous and extra cautious when passing me. It was a real pleasure to ride in the US.

I don't know if I was simply very fortunate, if Aiken is actually a cycling hotbed and everyone rides (if they do, I did not run into the cycling hordes), or if I have some kind of 'foreigner: be polite to him' mark that was secretly placed on my cycling jersey that all Americans take heed of.

So, as an Italian I am a bit sad and annoyed by this state of affairs, which is, unfortunately representative of the 'state of nature' which we Italians seem to have accepted here (at least in Rome).

Oh well. Time to get excited about another ride. No matter how others act.

Traffico? Civilta'?

Traffico senza speranza... altro che vigili, chiamate la Folgore!

Avendo notato che molti visitatori del blog sono italiani, presumo che ci sia anche qualcuno che non se la cavi tanto bene con l'inglese. Allora oggi vorrei scrivere un post in italiano - comunque una buona cosa, visto che sono un italiano e che vivo a Roma!

Forse avrete notato i miei post 'americani' e le fotografie - strade deserte, asfalto liscio come un biliardo... poca sporcizia ai lati delle strade. Quest'estate ho avuto la fortuna di passare le mie due settimane di ferie nella Carolina del Sud, in una cittadina a due passi dalla frontiera con la Georgia. Il sud, insomma. Non proprio una zona rinomata per la sua grande tradizione ciclistica (ok, lasciamo stare Lance ed il Texas). Tengo una bici da corsa (la Specialized rossa che potete ammirare in un post precedente) li che uso per allenarmi. Due settimane di uscite, niente di particolare - dai 40 a 70 km al dì. Sempre solo (anche se conosco una squadra locale, dopo un anno lavorativo difficile ho preferito uscite solitarie molto 'zen') sulle strade intorno alla città di Aiken. Percorsi per lo più rurali, visto che bastano 5-6 km per uscire dalla città.

Qualche considerazione...

Infrastrutture fantastiche. Strade perfette. Quello che loro considerano strade messe male per noi sono il meglio del meglio. A quanto pare sanno anche fare manutenzione. Ciclabili dappertutto. E dove non esistono, cartelloni che esortano gli automobilisti a 'share the road' , ergo fate attenzione ai ciclisti - hanno tutto il diritto di utilizzare la strada con voi!

Pulizia... pochissima plastica e solamente qualche lattina (gli imbecilli ci sono dappertutto) a bordo strada - il tutto che viene comunque pulito regolarmente da volontari di ditte e/o scuole locali. Si avete letto bene, volontari. Proprio come in Italia.

E poi, il comportamento degli automobilisti lascia esterrefatti noi ciclisti italiani. In una decina di uscite nessuno mi ha mai 'stretto' o sorpassato in modo pericoloso. Alla guida nessuno è aggressivo, e a quanto pare sono consci della responsabilità che ha il conducente di un'auto. Mi sono trovato con gruppi di 5-6 auto che attendevano, pazientemente, il momento di potermi superare (quasi sempre evitando del tutto la corsia dove pedalavo). Proprio come qui da noi...

E come ho fatto notare. In una zona dove non ci sono moltissimi ciclisti. Dove non sono per niente abituati ad incontrarci per strada.

Allora, perché si comportano cosi'? Forse perché sono in gran parte persone educate. Esiste ancora un livello di coscienza civica che noi non abbiamo (forse... mai avuto).

Poi uno torna a Roma e per andare in bici in ufficio, od allenarsi dopo l'orario di lavoro viene visto come: (i) un problema; oppure (ii) uno stravagante... (per usare un'eufemismo) dopo tutto, potrebbe stare bloccato nel traffico per ore in auto come 'una persona normale'. Per poi arrivare a destinazione e cercare parcheggio per un'altra mezz'ora.

Credo proprio che il concetto stesso del public good - del bene pubblico, non esista. Peccato.

Mancanza di civiltà. E come italiano, questo mi fa un po male.