Overheard in the mall and in theory

There are so many great things about overhearing things said between other people. Some of the things that I think make these small intrusions in to other people's lives and conversations great are: you have no idea what the context of the entire conversation is, you don't know what the relationship between the two people is, you don't know what brought about the comment, and best of all you have to try not to laugh out loud when you hear a good one.

I am writing about this because I heard a couple good ones last night when I was out and about in the breathtaking Fox Run Mall in scenic Newington, NH.

The first one was -presumably- between a mom and her daughter (remember the relationship rule):
- Mom: Well, we can cross that off our list. What's next?
- Daughter: I kind of hungry.
- Mom: Ok. Want to go the Lindt Candy [Chocolate] store, make a meal out of it?
--------- The best part of this one, for me, was that I didn't quite hear and understand the word "Lindt", but did hear the word "candy". I first thought that this was the best mom ever, but then I walked passed the Lindt Store and was able to put two-and-two together. Then I tried to find that lady again to see if she was in a fufilling marriage because a woman like that is truely one in a million.-----------

The second one of the evening was said between two young fellows, maybe mid-twenties, collage-ish kids, looking generally unkempt and well... American.
There was no follow-up or response. It was just a one-liner.
- Dude: Uhh... My pelvic girdle!
----------I don't even know where to go with that one! What was more surprising to me was that he knew what a 'pelvic girdle'!--------


I love when you overhear things, especially when the comments and snippets are not mundane crap like, "Oh my gosh! I was so drunk last night".

I don't think that "Overheards" could be considered eavesdropping or being nosy. The general trend is that something occurs -either externally or internally- to break your attention from whatever you are doing at precisely the right momment that the guy next to you is saying something hairbrained. In the same way that a room full of people always becomes serediptiously silent when you fart or swear, redirecting all the attention to you for very wrong reasons.

Now, one thing I must caution you about is fools like me and some of my knuckleheaded friends. As a malicious and juvenile habit in highschool, we would select a mark - usually the vice-principal - and try to say the foulest, filthiest things we could think of when he was within earshotof us. This, as I said, that you must watch out for because you will not experience the essence of overhearing people. This is you being played by some truely sick people, played like a fool with a winning lottery ticket by an expert con-man.

Use this knowledge to your advantage. However, I urge you to use this knowledge as a two way street. Not only should you keep your ears open for these comic gems that happen all around you, but also you should try to play someone once in a while.

For instance, as you are walking down the sidewalk with a friend, mark someone that is walking toward you. As they are a few paces in front of you, say some thing totally outlandish. I can not give you advice or suggestions as to what you should say, but make sure it's worth it, cockamamey and absurd.

If you suceed, know that you might have just baffled someone's curcuits, which is truely a superlative feeling.

i have fully returned to my native culture.

I will not mince words.

Today I drove to McDonalds for lunch because I ran out of lunch meat the other day. I usually brown-bag it.
However, I drove from work to McDonalds today.
From the parking lot to the drive through there are -maybe, at absolute maximum, swirving back and forth to increase the distance- 300 meters.
I drove there, ordered, paid and drove back to work for a round trip of -like I said, at absolute maximum- maybe 1/8th of a mile.

Yes, indeed, I am home.

if youre ok, say sometihng.

something.

i have been home for a little less than a week.
it is weird.
when they described the sensation of reverse-culture shock, i poo- poo-ed it.
"that won't happen. how could that possibly happen."


man, i was wrong. However, it is not bad whereas it is not good.
it is just strange. there is a vauge dreamlike feeling. I tried to describe it to Brian;
It is like a dream, certainly not a nightmare, but it is like returning to a dream that you have had for years and have come to turst. However, you will always kow that it is a dream.
I say this because being home is like a distortion of the reality I have experienced for the last 3 months. I knew home existed. I knew what I would return to, however I trusted my Italian life so thoroughly that I forgot that my other life existed.

Like I said, it is not a feeling that I can articulate completely. I have tried, and I enjoy trying to explain things. Almost like one of those crack-pots that describe wines ("it's chatty but not aggressive", is probably my favorite wine-related description ever, but still...) however, I can not come up with the words or sentiments to accurately describe my thoughts, feelings and emotions with in the first week that I have been home.

I will try to think things over and come up with something. But that might take a while. Maybe, it would be best to let sleeping dogs lie, let my memories live and not try to define something for the fear that giving it words and titles will diminish it.
I will keep everyone posted.

WHAT DO YOU MEAN "TOMORROW"!!!!!

So today is the last day.
the end of day is hear.

i did my last Wednesday Worlds today and i took plenty of photos, and the sprint.
Brian took me that Federico was pissed because Fede went tearing past Brian once I made a 10 or so meter gap. I have to say that it was all b-c of Roberto becasue after the round-a-bout at Citta delle Stelle, Roberto told me to just sit on his wheel.... and that was all she wrote.

Iguess that makes up for my blow up on the climb (the top of which is 4.5km from Collonella).

I took photos...
I told all my boys 'goodbye' and that Iwould be back to visit. I suppose that I have told enough people that I will come back, that Ihave to. No excuses, No whining, just coming back to Italy within the next couple of years; oh well, Iguess that is the price you have to payy for making good friends all over the world.

I backed up all my photo's and video's today. And did you know that it takes about 15 minutes to transfer 19.2 gigabytes of photos on to an external harddrive? Just keep that in mind, in case you are crunched for time next time you transfer 3 months worth of photos.

Last night, I went out with Kasia (a young lady from the hotel 100 Torri) [check it out if you're ever in Ascoli] {drop my name for no discount whatsoever} and we sat and talked for 3 hours. ALL IN ITALIAN!! Not to brag or anything, but as far as tests go, this was a trial by fire!

The conversation was good, it flowed nicely with out too many akward pauses. But the thing that knocks my socks off is this; for all the bitching and whining I did during the first month or so about not learning Italian fast enough, I have come SO far. I was really surprised.

But, as I was saying, the end of days is upon me. I was talking with Brian, as we rode back to his shop after our ride, about how strange it is to have this all coming to an end.
I said good-bye to Dianna, Sylvia and Simona this morning; then all my boys this afternoon. I still have to go see Luigi at Dreambike and sadly Pasqua is not at Falgiani until tomorrow, so I won't be able to see her.

I can't wrap this up in any other way.
I can only say, "What do mean my flight is tomorrow!?"

oh yeah, i got pictures of the whores!

Ciao Mad Libs

(Disclamer: the views expressed in this blog are warpped and twisted and do not accuerately reflect reality as it exists or as others percieve it. by reading this disclamer, you hereby reliquinish all rights to judge the writer -forthwith known as Captain Fantastic- for any and all judgements, observations and commentary contained or written, expressed or implied, with in this blog.)

I _______ (intensity modifier) hate the _______ (intensity modifier) word "Ciao".

"Ciao" can ____ (action verb) a ____ (noun) in ____ (unfriendly place). I hope "Ciao" spends

________ (duration of time) in ____(unfriendly place) while ______ (creatures) ____

(torture verb) its _____(bodily organ), _____ (tortoure verb) red hot _____ ____

(compound word, torture device) up its ___ (bodily orrifice) and ____ (torture verb) out its

________ (bodily organ). I hope "Ciao" gets an incurable _____ ______

(compund word, disease) and has to _______ (verb) from ______ (adjective) contanct for the

rest of its life for fear of ______ (adjective), ______ (adjective), ______ (adjective)

inflammations."Ciao" is a ______ (adjective), ______ (adjective), ______ (adjective) that is

______ (adjective) of its ubiquitous status.

"Ciao" is used all the time. so much so that they might as well not even have other words in the language. You say "ciao" as a greeting, upon departure, in the morning, at night, to people young and old. There is never a time of day when you can't -and for this matter- shouldn't say "Ciao".
One of the frustrating parts of ... of the words that must not be said, from here on, forever and ever, amen... is that you don't ever recieve one "Ciao", 7 are thrown at you, like you were some sort of mob snitch getting gunned down. For Example:

person one - Senti, Rico, ci vediamo domani. [Listen, Rico, we'll see eacother tomorrow.]
person two - Ho-kay, Gianni, a domani. Ciao.
person one - Oh, ciao, grazie. Ciao, ciao.
person two - Ciao, prego. Ciao.
person one - Ciao.

FOR #°*%$ SAKE JUST SAY GOODBYE AND WALK AWAY!!!!!

I have not learned many varients of salutations. there is not the rich myriad of choices that we, the english speaking population, take for granted everyday. There are no Howdy's, Yo's, What's poppin?'s, What's good's or Hey there's.
There is only Boun Giorgno (only to be used before noon), Boun Pomerrigio (only to be used between noon and 4pm), Bouna Sera (5-ish pm to whenever you're done for the night, Salve (straight-up "Hello"), Arrivderci (formal goodbye), and the word that must not be spoken.

in this holiday season i think it is important that we give thanks. I'll go first; I am thankful that "Ciao" has not infected the North American continent. Amen.

OH MY GOD! every come see terrible i am at acting!

This is Alex's video from Adam and Jessica's class.


i can not "embed" this video in my blog for some reason, so you will have to click on the link.

This is my big break! send this to any hollywood producers that you know.
and if all else fails, i am open to bollywood directors...
i guess.

[if it doesnt work, go to you tube and 'search' for "Ascoli Ottobre". It should be the first video.]

Hardcore Routa Della Fortuna!

Many programs, especially game shows, from many countries have been adapted into Italian.
there is Who Want to be a Millionare, Weakest Link, Survivor, Deal or No Deal and, my personal favorite, Wheel of Fortune (La Ruota Della Fortuna).
On the Italain version of this, Victoria Silvsedt is the letter flipper, the Vanna White.

[And on a side note, her comprehension of italian seems to be on par with mine. The host corrects her pronunciation of the prompt phrases and usually has to repeat banter-type questions to her at least once. ]

One night this week, on the show there was a really nerdy fellow named Niccòla. he had a buzz-cut because he was balding, he had a big 'ol beak of a nose and big black glasses like Drew Carey.

The host first asked Niccòla if he was single, he said "yes" (who couldhave guessed that one).
Then the host asked Victoria if she was single, she said "yes". Then she motioned the growing of her nose like Pinnochio.

The host kept ribbing him about his appearnce but when the subject phrase Una ricetta per far durare l'amore (a recipe too make love stronger) came up, the host jumped all over Niccòla like a fat kid on the last cupcake.

The host asked Niccòla (i think, maybe 80% sure) how longer it had been since he had sex. To which Niccòla responded, "7 months" (could have guessed that one too).
The host then turned to Victoria and asked her the same question, to which she responded that it had also been 7 months. Then she... actually everyone started laughing, and she changed her answer to 7 hours.

Can you imagine Pat Sajack, that weeny little fart licker, saying something like that to Vanna!?
I think not! His comb over would blow off the top of his head and Vanna would fall over!
Alas, no, the Italians are not puritans.
They know how to throw down!
Even on gameshows.

why i hate cycling.

i have the 2009 Garmin-Slipstream team presentation video running in another window.
and let me tell you why i hate cycling...

these guys, not only are they young and handsome and all dolled up for their big show, but these bastards are the top 1% of the net cyclists in the world.

i hate them because they are naturally so much better than me.
i hate them for what they are, not who they are, but what they are.
they are just super-human-wattage-work-horses. those guys have such amazing bio-chem that it sickens me to think what they can do.

screw yous all.
and good luck.

a cold ass cold weekend of riding!

All these photos are from Palmiano.
<-- that's Gran Sasso, 50 km away!

man, it was cold here this weekend!
i know, i know... it wasnt as cold here in Ascoli as it was in NH, but still when you dont have important winter riding gear such as neoprene booties and insulated gloves, it seems colder than it actually is. it was 11°C on saturday (in the sun) and 9°C on Sunday (in the sun), WAY colder on the shaded descents.

saturday, i climbed. then i video-taped the descents from half-way-between-Force and Venarotta, the descent from Venarotta to Ascoli, then the funnest part of SS81, the road to Teramo.
it was so clear that day! when i arrived in Palmiano i went in to the Centro (remember the four house rule?) i had an absolutely jaw-dropping view of Parco Monti Sibilini to the west and Gran Sasso e Monti della Laga to the south. it was unbelievable!
i felt bad for once reason; when barb was here, it was humid and visibility was limited so she couldnt see the million mountains that surround this area. Oh yeah, i felt bad for another reason; i was climbing for about 30 minutes straight and had another ten to go after Palmiano.
anyways, since it was so beautiful, i took plenty of pictures.

the filming went well. it took me a while to figure out how and where to fix my camera to my bike or helmet. i finally used those blue utility straps (thank you Aimee) to strap my sweet camera (Cannon Powershot SD870IS, youre welcome Cannon for the plug, you can send that check to my normal billing adress) with a sock between it and my handlebars, in hopes that the sock would dampen the road vibration.
it went well. it was cool. i am glad i will have more than pictures to remember my riding here.

Sunday; i would have rather stayed in bed all day.
but i went out, in the cold, without the right gear. i got to the rotunda after Castel di Lama, where you can decide to stay on the Salaria or go up to Offida. i thought about it; "well, i cant ride to Offida when i get home but i can ride to the beach in NH, so i might as well as go up."
that climb is beautiful and will always be my favorite b.c it was my first ride here (first ride that took me farther out in to the country). it is just specatular b-c you climb up a ridge and just ride it all the way in to Offida.
but overall, i had no motivation to do any pedaling sunday, but ended up with 38 miles.

OH! I havent written about this yet b-c i keep forgetting!
But i accomplished my goal of 1000 miles in Italy on 15 Sunday November 2008! it was on the rollers that day, so it wasnt technically on Italian soil but it was in Italy. then after that, if you want to quibble about it, i got a for-sure-on-the-soil-of-Italy 1000 miles on 18 Wednesday November 2008! then, i thought, "why stop there?", so i went for 5000 miles for the year, on the geared bike.
i got that with my ride on Sunday. so, i suppose you could say that i have accomplished all that i set out to accomplish here in Italy. which is pretty sweet. if it was only warmer.....

i post too few pictures

The first two photos are of ascoli; one is taken from the foot bridge that connects Fortezza Malatesta to Porta Maggiore; the second is a house on a back street, non-descript, just like so many others around here.

The second group of three are from my Ceppo Ride (see other posts for description of this hellish climb); they are taken after the descent from Ceppo when you start to drop back drop to the level of Valle Castellana; they are looking over the hills of Abruzzo, which are more hilly and less craggy and jagged like Le Marche.

The next two are of goats. yes, goats. i rode through a pack of goats on the climb up to Ceppo.

The final three are of Guilianova. they were taken from the Guilianova Alta, where the Centro is, because down by the beach it looks like Hampton Beach and SanBennedettoDel Tronto.

here are fotos that i have taken recently but hevent posted.

camera use has become less frequent b-c... well there's no good reason.

the only thing i can think of, and this is rather sad but, alot of the beauty around here has faded into the background for me.

also, when you are on a climb, taking a beating from the rugged, hill country that is Le Marche, you dont usually want to stop and snap photos, in essence taking longer to make a 25 - 45 km climb.

but any ways, these are some of the most recent rides that i've done. which are not many.

ive been off the bike for about ten days and am sure that Mercoledì Mondiale will dish out an ass-kicking and a half today.

foreign language.

i only have about 30 minutes before Dianna kicks me out of school, so i will try to organize my thoughts correctly the first time.

learning a foreign language is really strange. alex and i joked about it once and the truth that lies within our fairly rude statements hold more truth than you might think.

we were kidding around one night about how we were growing weary of fighting the language barrier. there are momments of great personal success and there are momments that crush your spirit.
we said something to the effect of, "its almost like youre speaking a real language, only weirder." this probably doesnt make sense to you. we were saying that Italian is like a language that twins teach eachother; the two of them know what they are saying but no one else does.
alex and i - actually anyone that goes to a foreign country to learn a language - are that "someone else".
i spend all my time making nioses that have equivalent meanings to an entire race of other people. all the time when i go out, i have to make strange noises -horribly pronounced and often corrected- noises that other people understand and can reproduce with infinitely greater esae than me. all the time i make noise that people understand. i have no choice but to make sounds that means the same thing in english.

would you like to try this? i think this might be fun for you.
next time you go out, anywhere -to dinner, to a friend's house or if you encounter a friend on the street or ask for directions- just start making sounds. not words that will have any specific meaning to the person you are trying to communicate with, just sounds.
maybe words out of order or perhaps primordial grunts and gestures; anything besides words that the other person would or could possibly understand.
welcome to the world of the exchange student.

The Simpsons strike again!

this confirms that The Simpsons are the once and future best show in the world!!!!

Discovery Plus aka ass-volcano

this is the best Italy has to offer!
this is Discovery Plus by Amerika Star (plus is pronounced "ploos")
this is the infomercial that runs all the time.
scroll down to the bottom of this linked page in order to watch the abridged version of the infomerical.

it's not that i only like this product for it's obvious ass-shaking abilities.
it's not that i only like this infomercial for the models with matching tribal arm band tattoos.
it's not that i only like this infomercial b-c the women that recieve the free, in-home, risk-free demonstration is from Ascoli (her name and town are displayed on-screen in the t.v. version).

i like this infomerical b-c it shows that consumer stupidity is a worldwide phenomenon!
god bless the consumer economy!

hung out to dry in the rain

this weekends had its ups and downs.
first the good stuff;
i rode rollers for the first time. but wait, that's not the best part.
i didnt fall off once!
HAH! take that physics, you pansy! i defied you!

second, Alex, cameron and I had a lovely saturday night dinner with Manlio, Marco, Fabio, Rico and Paolo. Manlio invited us (the unh group) to have dinner with his friends and we all accepted, through Alex; he was the point man in this one.

Manlio is a local fellow, that heard that there was American students in Ascoli and wanted to practice his english. at lunch with alex last thursday, he extended this invitation to us.

we had spaghetti, sausages and pork chops. the meat was cooked in the fireplace and was simple but delicious! when the sausage was cooking, it smelled just like a summertime barbeque!

then, for 'dessert', we had roasted chestnuts. we, the americans, had never eaten these, so it was quite a treat. however it was a total shock for our hosts, to hear that we had never eaten them before.

interesting fact: chesnuts, in antiquity, were called the flour of the poor because that was the main staple of the lower class diet in the ascoli area. neat, huh?

Our italian friends were eager to talk to us about what we liked; food, politics, movies, girls, more food, etc. they were also very curious about american history, our thoughts about american diversity, our university system and how we pay for it (for years on end...) [this was hard to explain and even harder for them to understand].

they were even curious about the finer point of our language, which was fun to explain and listen to them try to pronounce. "Che é la differenza fra putana e spiaggia?" (figure it out on your own.)

like always, i was the official translator and talked the most. alex was quiet, and answered things when he was directly addressed. Cameron did really well, for only having 2.5 months of italian lessons in his entire life. he used the words and congugations that he knew, which i thought was really great.

by the time the conversation, the wine and the chesnut were finished it was 1:30 am!

it was a great night.



now for the stuff that pissed me off. okay, the one thing:
i have lost alot of faith in american college students.
as i mentioned, alex was the point man for our dinner with Manlio.
everybody (accept for benb-c he was in finland) agreed go to the dinner party.
then at the last minute -by last minute i mean, as Marco arrived and introduced himself, as we were all standing in the rain- they all decided not to go.
they couldnt seem to see acouple of different things: we were in a group of seven, wildebeasts understand this theory, why can't college students figure it out, didnt you clowns sitt through all those boring SHARRP presentations?; italians by nature are a hospitable race, they like to entertain and extend courtesy; Dianna, more or less, 'interviewed' Manlio, when he came in to the office she talked with him in order to ascertain his intentions; this was a good experience to meet some locals.
the list could go on and on. but mostly, alex, cameron and i looked like sacchi di figura di merda b-c the other clowns bailed on us. i said this to Marco -i even used that exact phrase which got a laugh out of him (i guess it was a good start for me)- and he said it was nothing, that it wasnt a problem but still i felt like an ass. i was very dissapointed that people, particularly college students, a group of people thought to be the most liberal, carefree, adventurous demographic, could be this cowardly!

if anyone going abroad reads this (i know who you are), i have a piece of advice for you;
don't hang out with UNH kids. dont do it. make friends, spend time with italians. spend time with anyone but UNH kids. you can hang out with them when you get back to campus. youre not here to hang out with your roommates. meet people, meet italians or go home.
or they might hang you out to dry like i have described.

to quote ryan carney; "shit's weak".

fooled by a hotdog

italians must have invented hotdogs a week ago.

because they are everywhere! even in my Rustica (something like a quesadilla, but with a breadier crust)!

i am always fooled by hotdogs here b-c they look like regular meat when you slice them up and put them on something, for instance a pizza, with french fries. yes, i have been fooled by this too.

for some reason, i think that hotdogs have a weird foothold here, b-c pizzaria's put them on pizza's and in sandwiches and in rusticas. But WHY!? dear lord, WHY!?

usually rusticas and pizzas have tasty thing in them like prosciutto and mushrooms and different types of chees or potatoes. but no, not today.

imagine youre at a restaurant;

"um, excuse me waiter? what is the special of today?"

"well, sir, today you have two lovely choices; we have a delicious pasta tossed with new olive oil and lightly browned porcini mushrooms with a touch of sage. or hotdogs with a aerosol cheese."

"hmmm... tough choice."

i asked Diana why people loved them. and the answer is the same as why anyone, from any country, would love them; they taste good, they're fast but above all else, they're bad for you.

why do you drink coca-cola?

why do you like mcdonalds food?

because its awful and you know it.

man, i thought these italians had this food-thing under control....

28 days to go.

one month to go...
i have one month to go.
i think that i have reached my goal of one thousand miles in italy, but am not sure b-c i reset my 'trip up' counter on my computer.
so i am just going to shoot for 5000miles on my odometer before i leave europe. close enough right?
right.
i am stalling, again.
i have a paper due thursday, which will indeed be disasterous, b-c i dont give a fuzzy rat's ass about it.
i should have completed my response thinger for a class by now. but have been clowning around on the interweb.
llike always, million task and the focus of a fruit fly will force me to be up late into the nights of this coming week.

if i finish something and find some time, i will try to accurately describe my thoughts about my language skills and learning a foreign language in general.

i miss home and i will be excited to see every one when i get back. 28 days to go...

my attitude toward politics in practice

last night, after dinner, i was stalling on some homework.
i went upstairs to find alex watching Obama's acceptance speech on his laptop.
i asked if he would mind if i turned on the TV. he said, no.
he asked, you dont want to watch this, refering to the speech.
no, i think i'll try to find something else.

i flipped through the channels for a bit and settled on an OLD movie.
the point at which i joined the story was when two divers (in the old timey bell helemt style diving uniforms) were scavenging a sunken ship and they were being attacked by a giant squid.

i watched this instead.
thank you for your time.

mercolidi mondiale, 5 nov

i will keep this short.

i blew up really early on the climb.

Brian had a magnificent pull up Zona Industriale, keeping the pace at about 28mph for about 2 miles.

I was right on his wheel the whole time.

then,

i won the sprint.

thank you for your time.

vote and get this crap over with all ready.

the only thing i want to say about this election, or maybe more accurately, i would like to ask some of yous for a favor;

vote or don't vote, i dont care.
but please do the following, when exiting your polling place, like i said if you vote or not (if not, just hang out there, then leave)...

...when you are approached by an exit polling person, answer them in the following manner;

"i did not vote for John McCain because Sarah Palin is a complete and utter MORON!"

this is the only thing that i will ask of you in this election season.
from this i think (sweet god!) i hope you can divine my attitude toward each candidate.
thank you for your time.



on unrelated topics, i am still BEAT from this weekends riding. i still can't believe that i climbed that much (4000 ft in the 24 miles immediately outside of my door).
yesterday, i ate two fried calzones (prosciutto and mozzerella); then for dinner, 150 grams of pasta, sauce w/ 2 sausages, a pepper, a zucchini and half a jar of tomato sauce.

then today, i didnt have my usual creme-filled pastry for breakfast (b-c i can actually hear my atery walls thickening) but for lunch i had four pieces of pizza (from Pizzeria Miseria & Nobilità, Corso Mazzini, 28, if you're ever in the neighborhood) [new place that just opened and will be getting alot of my lunch business from now on], and I AM STILL HUNGRY!!!!!!!!!!!

last night i had a heart-to-heart with Food.

i sat down and talked it over with Food, and said "Food, look, we've been together for a long time and i still love you. let's renew our vows. what do you say?" to my utter surprise, b-c i thought Food had had enough of me, Food said "yes". therefore, i will be spending even more time with Food in order to prove my love to it.

i hope the second time around will be as good as the first.

it seems to be fall here too.

this weekend was beautiful, but sadly the weather here is quickly turning in to Autumn. This didnt stop me from riding my ass off this weekend. And just like always, this blog post will be an attempt at brevity, but it will probably fail.

Saturday:
Ascoli to Teramo, on SS81.
Teramo to Guilanova, on SS80.
Guilanova to Maggi on some tiny-ass road.
Then dropped in to a valley, on to Via Fondovalle Salinello, which turns into Via Fosso Purgatorio (not a conicidence that is sounds like 'purgatory'), which turns into Via Colle di Ferro, Via Mediana, then it turns back in to Via Salinello.
Then maybe i went through Borrano or Ponzano or... actually i don't really know b-c i TOTALLY BONKED! i was actually dizzy at one point when i was on a climb of about 10-12%.
I caught a glimpse of a fig tree that had fruit on it (strange for this time of year) and stopped, dropped my bike and scavenged the tree like a hobo looking for a beer can with one last sip of Colt 45 in it. As i got on to Via Salinello, i saw a sign that said 'Civitella, 16km', and thought to myself, already aware of my lack calories, "I bet the last 10km will be up hill."
And wouldn't you know it, the next sign i saw for Civitella said 6.5km, and the road turned up with a vicious pitch! Being right, was never so painful and miserable!
From that point on i was fueled by the desire to not die along the side of the road. Then came the figs, then the descent from Civitella, back to SS81, which goes back to Ascoli.
In the direction i was going the road was all down hill, with spectacular pavement. You can carve your way down the switchbacks at about 25-30 mph. On this section of road you can actually go faster than the cars can. This was the reason for my sickest passing manuever to date, not only here in Italy but anywhere i have ridden.
In order of apperance, there was an old Fiat Panda or something (think old Chevy Colt or Ford Fiesta), a Mercedes SUV, some other sedan then ME. The Panda had his blinker on and was preparing to turn right in to a driveway, so everyone was slowing. I had a clear line of sight through the curve ahead of me, and clearly saw that 100 meters away there was a car coming toward the line of us. I already had it in about my highest gear, so i just jumped on it as hard as i could to pass the three cars in my lane before the oncoming car passed us. After all that, i kept pushing my way down through the corners, so that i didnt look like a chump when the Mercedes caught up to me; turns kept coming up faster and faster, i saw 28mph at the apex of one corner that wasnt quite a switchback.
then when i arrived back in Ascoli, i told myself, "stop at the first pizzeria you see!" but alas, none were open b-c it was about 3:30 or 4pm which is when stores are all still closed.
so when i got home, i didnt even bother to change or shower or anything. I just stood in my kitchen with my shoes and bibs and jersey on, and shoveled food down my gullet.
then i had dinner. then, two hours later, i ate two pieces of pizza. then, at ten pm, i ate 100 grams of pasta with panchetta and pesto.

Sunday:
Ascoli Piceno to Ceppo = 23.9 miles and 4068 total feet of climbing. 'nuff said.
i left Ascoli and headed up the valley to Valle Castellana. then went through V.C., through Morrice, past Pietralta, and on to Ceppo. Ceppo is the highest point on that particular ridgeline.
Barb, this is the drive that we took, when we saw all the herds on goats and sheep!
At Ceppo, i looked at my computer to see my stats; 23.9 miles from my doorstep at 12.67 mph avg pace!
Then came the descent. It started in the shade which immediately induced shivers and chattering teeth. I guess you ask for that when you rip down a descent at 30 mph, coasting, soaked in sweat from a 23 mile climb. you know, just another day at the office.
Anyways, by the time i returned to Valle Castellana the air temperature was much much warmer. so much so, that i didnt need my windvest.
Thank gosh it was mostly downhill from Ceppo b-c, i didnt bonk, but i was out of gas by the time i approached a small climb of about 1km that takes you up to Castel Trosino.

Another oddity of the last couple of days, alot of people must mistake me for someone that knows the area b-c i have been asked for directions 3 times in the last three days.
First on Friday morning; a kid needed to get to the train station. first, he ran passed me, then stopped, turned around in order to ask me where it was. I told him, b-c i generally knew where it was and where he needed to go to get there.
Then, sunday, when i was stuffing cookies in to my mouth just outside of Morrice, a car pulled up beside me. Two ladies asked if i was all set. I said yes, and showed them the cookies which got a laugh out of them. Then they asked me where Macchia Da Sole was. From a previous ride (Vince and Bros), i was able to tell them that the quickest way to get there was to go back to Valle Castellana. Then they asked me what towns were ahead, was Ceppo this way. "Uhh... Io non so. La solo cosa che io so é il mio percorso per oggi. Non sono sicuro." (Uhh, i dont know. the only thing i that i know is my route today. i'm not sure.)
Come to find out, after another 10 miles of climbing, that yes indeed, Ceppo was up ahead.

then last night, when i was walking around like a zombie in order to keep my legs moving, a fellow asked me where Piazza Del Popolo was. We happened to be in Porta Maggiore, which is rather far from the Piazza. I did my best to get him in the general direction, then figured he could ask someone else. like i said, i was occupying a general zombie-like state.

Wendesday worlds recap.

there's not much new to report here. Gigi (short for Luigi) at Dreambike fixed my rig and i was able to go out on the Wednesday Worlds ride. however, 1) i have ridden 3 times inthe last two weeks and 2) i have a mild sinus infection, so i have bad form and it felt like i was breathing thru a straw. also, Il Capo (Frederico) wasnt there so, and there was only four of us, Roberto Guido (maybe the new mayor of Ascoli) and Niccola and me. we did a different route, one with more climbing. i had one good attack then went (i think) completely anaerobic for about two minutes, and fucking blew up all over the place, and got dropped by each successive rider; Roberto went with me when i attacked, then i could nt hold the pace, then Niccola (previously griping about the new course selection) caught me, told me "Andiamo Phil [pronounced FEEL]", then he dropped me, at least Guido (shagged out by spinning class the night before) didnt catch me.
when i caught up to Roberto at the top, i said that we werent friends anymore, and he quickly reminded me, "Inizia tu le guerra!" you started the war!
the rest of the ride was cool, and by cool i mean down hill.

Links to facebook photo albums

face book album; ROMA.

face book album; Mercolidi Mondiale!

face book abum; Broken spoke at 5200 feet.

face book album; CentoItaliano.

i will always remember Roma...

Top, left: this theater was in the same block as our hotel.

top, center: the art is very lifelike here.

Top, right: outside Campadoglio.

middle, right: skeleton in cage, aka ignominous death.

bottom: diaramma that got some fourth grader in trouble, however, once again, very lifelike.

i will always remember Roma for alot of reasons.

i went to Cinecatta two weeks ago with a class trip. interestingly enough, i am not in that class and everyone else -except for one other student- decided not to go, therefore i successfully poached that trip.

i stayed in my first hostel in Roma. and the absolute vapidity of American youths was clearly arrayed to me and two Mexican globetrotting young ladies, Dianna and Brenda. the story goes like this;

- me: So Brenda and Dianna, from what you've seen in your travels, what do you think of American kids?

- Dianna: well, dont take this the wrong way, but we think that you all dont take things very seriously and dont have alot of responsiblity. we also have the image of the blonde party girl in our minds because of movies. and you probably think we all wear giant hats.

- me: no, we dont. well, not all of us. the uneducated few probably do...

- Brenda: but we have met alot of very nice people.

- me: yes, im sure your have. everybody is different though.

- both the girls: yes, certainly...

then about ten minutes later, two young american girls/students that were korean or something burst into the room; one heads to the bathroom and the other remains to ask us (me dianna and brenda). i will describe this younglady as she introduced herself: a grad student that is "screwed" b-c she decided to take off to Italy for a week vacation.

- Do you guys know if there's a dive bar around here?

- us: excuse us?

- you know, a place where you can just pound beers? you know, a dive bar?

- Dianna: no, im sorry we dont.

then dianna and brenda began speaking spanish between themselves, laughing uncontrolably and shot me a look. We were on the same page; i was ashamed that this dumb broad represented ME!

after they left, Dianna and Brenda and i chatted. i had to say that, truely, they did NOT respresent me. that we happened to both be american but other than that we were not cut from the same cloth.

i will also remember Roma for its timeless beauty, utterly choking traffic, throngs of tourists and humidity.

i walked from the Criminology Museum -which i was convinced was going to suck, but proved to be sufficiently grisly for the tastes of a desensitized american boy raised by action movies- to Piazza San Pietro. I followed Il Fiume Tevere, took pictures of ducks and their butts sticking up as they picked at the river grass. I arrived in Piazza San Pietro and saw it's splendor.

i saw more tourists than i ever thought possible. the piazza is choked with chairs and barriers, and flanked onthe sides, where the columns run around it, were tourists - speaking all different languages, wallwoing in sweat soaked clothes, looking generally shagged out.

i realized that bad taste knows no borders; at the entrance gates/barriers for the Basillica there are signs that pictiorially demonstrate what each sex may and maynot wear when insided the Vatican; skirts (ladies) and short (men) below the knee, sleeves to mid upper arm for both sexes.

as i walked away from the line - too long for my tastes- i saw a couple wallking toward me, both were young, good looking, probably on vacation and heading for the line. however, she was wearing a white sundress that was transparent. therefore clearly displaying the fact that she was wearing a white bra and thong underpants. AND YOU THINK YOU'RE GOING INTO THE VATICAN LIKE THAT?!!! for the love of all that is good and holy in Oden's beard, i hoped that they were not americans....

i will remember Roma for it's old stuff: i walked past the Forum, The Colloseum, and alot of other ruined stuff that looked like piles of rocks to me, but i am certainly not a historian. everywhere, piles of rocks, ruins, the past...

i will remember Roma for the Picasso exhibit i stumbled upon at the museum near Campadoglio. i poached a tour in the gallery - it was in italian however i undestood 70% of what the lady said.

i will remember Roma b-c i did not, repeat DID NOT, pay 8 dollars for a Coke. anyone that tells you that Roma and other cities are all expensive and built to bleed you dry, those are consumate, inveterate tourists. my suggestion to these people is this: get a map and take your own tour. i paid 3euro for a large Gelato, 4euro for a piece of pizza and a bottle of water, and Alex and i paid 10euro each for dinner (chinese food, yes that's right).

there were no 5euro .5liter Cokes, 15euro Gelati, or 12euro cocktails. maybe it was b-c i ordered (and made small take in italian with those people that served me) or maybe it was b-c i didnt buy things the were within spitting distance from the biggest tourist attractions in the western world. maybe, maybe not, you decide.

however, the foremost image of Roma will always be the homeless man's genitals that were not haphazardly hanging out of his pants but were on display for everyone to see.

Benvenuti a Roma.

Phil's guide to to cycling in Italy.

rule number one:
break as many spokes as possible to ensure that you endanger not only yourself but all the members of the pack you are riding in. this will also ensure that you go slow, all the time, with wobbly wheels.


i tried to make this funny, but it probably didnt work.
anyways, i broke a rear spoke, on my ksyrium rear wheel (the only ksyrium i own) yesterday.

i thought those things were supposed to be bomb proof. My ASS! i bought that thing in MARCH and it blew a spoke already. thats bullshit!

so, if anything, this is a message to the boys at exeter cycles: i need to start thinking about a REAL set of bombproof training wheels.
maybe, DT Swiss hubs (340's or Industry 9's) DT Competition spokes and Open Pro rims.
suggestions are welcome because of the fact that i cant really make a decision on a product that can stand up to my EXTREME wattage output!

phil flavored thoughts

- people pick their noses while they drive, in italia, b-c they think nobody can see.

- people picke their wedgies here too.
- this is the land of panty lines, rampant panty lines.

-- it doesnt seem to be the land of athletic calves, speaking of the general population but indeed there are a few outliers.
- smoking seems to carry less social stigma here.

- i flicked a booger on to a Fellini poster last night. Take that you artsy hack!
- if i lived here i would have to live in the Centro.

- Alex must have a deviated septum or inhaled a very small kazoo at some point in his life.
- the wink is here and can be used freely , regardless of gender-to-gender-winkage. either that or i am queer bait here too.


these are the things i have observed and not previously written down. these are only a small fraction of the things i have observed and remembered.... remembered is the key word there.
and if yous really know me, you'll see how these reflect my generally warped train of thought.
thank you for your time,

1100km tour of Marche in a rental car

this one is going to be quick. (Google all these towns to see pics before i put them up)

[afterthought... barb took 3.21GB of photos! so far...]

Barb got here on the 11th. i picked her up in Roma after schlepping around Cinecitta (Italian hollywood) on class fieldtrip.

i stayed in a hostel that had beds like hammocks the night of the tenth.

we returned to ascoli, ate and slept. we wandered around the city monday.
rented a car tuesday and went to Aquasanta Terme ,Forca di Presta (sickest climb where i broke that spoke), Castelluccio, Montefalcone Appenino and Force.

day two of tiny car (smart cdi), we saw the beach, Ancona and Grotte De Frassasi. then the longest craziest ride home through Fiastra.

wednesday i did Mercolidi Mondile and attacked so hard that i thought i was going to throw up all over my bike. then barb and i went to Offida, which is not only the home of the 2010 Junior Cycling World Competitions but also a Longobard fortress that was taken over by the Romans, who built a church around it. that's right AROUND IT!

thursday we went to Civitella del Tronto, Parco Nazionale Gransasso e Monte della laga (retraced a ride i did) and then around this huge mountainy-ridge kind of thing.
on the descent from Macchia Del Sole, we came to an intersection and all the signs were pointing to the right. everything was to the right, in varying distances. i said "i guess there is a total abyss to the left." we chuckled about that and made some other comments, then proceeded toward Valle Castellana.
i saw a sign that said Aquasanta Terme, and followed it b-c that town is on the way to Arquata, which was where we wanted to go next... got that?
but the signs led us up up up , always up...
we drove through, and when i say through, i mean they were all around us, THREE (3) herds of various rumen type animals; one herd of goats, one sheep and one mixed sheep-goat.
we drove for another hour, up to the top of the ridge then down, all the time on switchbacks and straights shorter than a quarter mile.
and wouldnt you know it, we wound up coming back to that intersection that had all the signs pointing to the right! we truley had driven to nowhere and back!

ok... so friday.... we both were generally sick of the tiny car and of eachother.
Barb wanted to see the Conero Coast which is south of Ancona and a bitch to get to.
i was very sour and very grumpy at this point. we both were, like i said.
we found the coast, we walked, we took pictures, we left.
we drive some more, took wrong exits off the highways, wrong directions, and finally after 5 hours in the car we arrived at Urbino. the drive to Urbino can take as little as 2 hours. and this was after an average of 8 hours per day in tiny car for the previous 4 days. (!)

Urbino would have been beautiful had i not wanted to fall asleep whenever i sat down.
we saw the Palazzo Ducale, and churches and cripts, and college students....?
yes Urbino is a college town. and it is the wierdest thing to see funkily clad college kids wandering around in an ancient Renesaince art-arcitecture town that used to be and still is the home of giant art collection.... there were kids sitting on the steps of a massive catherdal doing the internet with wi-fi. does that sound odd to you?

then on the ride home Gloria called me! and i explained the situation.
- i called her when i was in Ancona earlier in the week but i didnt leave a message.
- i was driving home from Urbino.
- i was 20 minutes from Ancona as we were talking on the phone.
- she told me to get off the highway at ancona north and wait at the train station and she would find me.
(that was not the order i said it all, nor were my italian gears engaged so it was a struggle).
- then she called back and said that she had forgotten that she had plans with her husband. however i should come to Ancona on sunday for lunch.
later Barb and i got home, ate and slept. mostly b-c we were sicke of eachother. we also decided not to got to Roma the next day b-c we would probably end up killing eachother.

saturday i returned the car! thank GOD! then we wandered around the local, every-third-weekend-Antique market and every-weekend-cheap-stuff-market.
we bought Porchetta. actually we bought a kilogram of porchetta. we bought veggies and fresh cheese.

sunday, we went to Ancona and had a lovely afternoon with Gloria, Franco (husband), Giovanna (daughter) and 2 Francesco's (one boyfriend of Giovanna and one son).
Giovanna spoke english very well and helped barb translate and be translated.
Gloria gave barb a recipe for lentil soup; but since neither spoke the others language very well, it has pictures of veggies and sizes of flames that are to be used.

it was a hell of a week... over 1100 km in a Smart, over ten towns/cities, eating out at local restaraunts each night, having barb meet my italian family...
now back to listening to my classmates whine about stupid bullshit....

Mercolidi Mondiale!

top, left photo: brian is in blue.

middle photo, frederico is in red.

right photo, Guido in pink, Daniello in yellow.

at left, the pack. Pepe is on pink and blue short (that used to be tights, he made custom cut-offs)

today was all business.
funny semi-related story: i asked our lovely secratary, Dianna, if there was an italian equivalent phrase for "All business". she said, no, and offered another phrase. then as i was leaving for my apartment inorder to change for the ride, dianna said, "I hope you have alot of business on your ride."

anyway, roll out was easy.
Frederico threw a couple of his little attacks on the Zona Industriale.

pace picked as we passed the whores. pace lined and sadly, Roberto and were wearing the same kit, i stupidly pulled back my "teammate". oops.

the climb: i was advised to big-ring it b-c it is only a 2.5 km climb.
Dannielo and another guy went out before the climb and hoped they could stay away; they thought wrong.
i got to the front and hung around there for about half a K.
then Roberto said something, maybe related to attacking, maybe not, but i went.
Big-ring HO! i remembered an old saying, you can never trust your heartrate on race day. that's true b-c i felt good but was running at about 195-198 bpm for the whole climb.

i caught the first guy, then caught Dannielo. i hung back from him for a little while, and tried to be quiet. i looked behind me to see if i had enough time to recover but my gap was holding. so i recovered and then went again and (maybe this was alittle rude) but blew past Dannielo. maybe not blew past him, but he was spent, just holding onto what ever gap the pavck would let him have. i caught a glimpse of him and he was not having fun. so, like i said, i went.

as i rounded the last hairpin and could just about see the finish line, i heard chase 1 talking below me but was confident that they wouldnt catch me.
they didnt. KOM BABY! second week there!

the run home:
i stopped at the intersection to put my camera back in it plastic bag, and then had to chase back on. Brian went off the front and the pace really ramped up. i was the last indian in line, we were doing about 30 mph.
Brian got pulled back and we hit the first roundabout; i stayed at the back.
we hit the next thing, the on-ramp connecter road, and i stayed at the back.
we hit the second roundabout and i advanced b-c if not there, then i wouldnt be able to attack up the whole paceline and have anything left to get a gap.
Brian asked where the sprint was, and i tried to tell him. but i figured on something different: "i'm going. when i get pulled back, you go. ok?"
i knew i would never be able to hold on for about 3km with the Giacomo train coming up on me.
i went. hard. 195 bpm the whole 2.5 km before the sprint.
sure as the sun is hot, at the off ramp i saw Giacomo over my shoulder leading the boys in.
i pulled wide to let Brian through who was second behind Giacomo.
Brian went a little too early and could quite hold his lead. Frederico was hot for the win, bridged to Brian and let Brian lead him to the line. Frederico took the sprint. like last week.
but when i saw Frederico go by, i got on his wheel and stayed there for a little while, but nobody was really contesting so i just relaxed and coasted home for a 4th or 5th.
this week was waaayyy better, i will still need to get a win before i leave.

Wear this for free ass kicking!

yeah yeah yeah...
so i have a paper due on thursday and i spent most of my time this afternoon looking at bike crap online; interbike photos, velonews, the mavic site, carbon rim manufacterers... you know all the regular sites that i go to when i am staring at a deadline.

how ever, to appease this beast i think that i might go buy the Falciani/Falgiani (dont know the correct spelling) after the office closes. if not now, then when, right?

but that leads me to my point; i hate rock racing, solely for the fact that they have sick, skulled out, rad-ass looking kits and Ball (the owner of the team) is so pumped up about selling "softgoods"!

jerseys for $180 and bibs for $230! you have got to be kidding ME!
who does this guy think he is?

as far as i am concerned, no self-respecting cyclist would buy one of those kits. and if one showed up to a ride that i was on, i would intentionally kick his ass all day, even if it meant burying myself deeper than i ever had before in my life.
and i would do it in my UNH jersey that flaps in the wind even though its 'race fit' and has un-sewn-up holes from when i crashed !
that jack ass would remember me.

YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!

Stefan Schumacher is a huge douchebag!

Barb pondered about it when we were watching the time trials!
i thought it was fairly oddd that some punk German would be able to get the upper hand on Fabian.
what an asshole!

politics.

i am sick of politics.
and i am unsure of how else to say this, so i will write a very simple sentence that accurately reflects my feelings toward the subject.
i wont use any words that will create any ambiguities or misconceptions.
ready...
Pronto...?
i do not care about politics.

got that?
many people that i have been dealing with of late, are either lefts or rights, far to one extreme or the other. and insist on discussing politics.

i do not care about politics.

"oh how can he run on the 'change' ticket if he picked someone that has been in washington for 30 years?"
"we met this couple of older, vigorous people in Urbino and they were so far left and so interested in the world and were so eager to talk about the state of the world, it was lovely."
"when he wins, all this will change."
"if he wins, he can solve poverty."

none of these quotes are 100% accurate, merely paraphrased from my memory, nor are they attributed.

the only thing that excites me about this election is, that in one month, it will be over.
i am not excited about change, b-c we all know that one president can not revamp an entire political system.
i am not excited about one candidates long standing service to the country b-c no matter how moderate he is, he will still side with his party.
i am not excited about a great third party uprising, b-c... c'mon... dont bullshit me like that.

i do not care about politics.

but i am counting down the days to the election.

a broken spoke at 5300 feet will get you a four hour lunch with an Italian family.

Have I got a story for you!
Long story short, I did 5300 feet of climbing and spend four hours eating lunch with the Baldani Sisters and their families, a family I had never met before in my life.

Now for the details:
Brian and I left Ascoli at about ten thirty after a quick bottom bracket lube and tighten.
We rolled out of his shop and headed for Mt. Vettore, by way of the Vecchia Salaria, Aqua Santa Ferme and Arquata del Tronto. The real climbing started when we hit the outskirts of Arquata. It was steep enough and there were plenty of switchback to keep life interesting, but always looming over our heads was Mt. Vettore, which has snow on it as of the last couple of days.
We worked our way up, the air got colder and thinner, trees became less deciduous and more evergreen in quantity. I was feeling really good from the two dinners I had eaten the previous night (pasta and sausage at 6:30 and a tuna sandwich at 10:30), so I was doing hill-attacks; going from about 9-10 mph with Brian (he hadn’t ridden in two weeks and was fighting a cold that his daughters gave him) to attacking at 14-16mph, maxing out my heart rate at about 196bpm. I did a couple of these, then waited for Brian and we continued to climb the mountain. {It’s strange saying mountain but this was an honest to goodness MOUNTAIN!}
As we neared the intersection that can take you to either Comunanza (where Brian was going after the max ascent) or Castelluccio (a town in geographic bowl), Brian was suffering like a dog in august and my head was started to pound a little.
The road had less switchbacks at this point and more straight sections as we approached the timberline. Some sections were exposed to the windward side, which was hell b/c the wind was a-blowing hard up there! Then you’d round a corner and tuck back into the leeward sections of road. At one point I rounded a switchback that went from a miserable fight then to care-free spin as the wind changed in my favor.
I took some pictures; the one of Brian rounding the switch and the one of me, looking like I’m dying.
Then, it got hard.
As if 7mph from the preceding 40 minutes, with my heart rate not dropping below 186 bpm, wasn’t bad enough…
Now we, I should say “I” b/c I had dropped Brian long ago, were completely above timberline, exposed to the wind and climbing straight sections of road. I dropped my speed to 5 mph and raised my heart rate to 190 bpm. I was ready to shift into my spokes, and couldn’t seem to find any sort of cadence or rhythm, sitting or standing. It didn’t seem like my pace was getting me anywhere and the road just didn’t want to end; couple that with the fact that I didn’t know how much longer this misery would last, I was seriously considering bailing out of this god-forsaken epic pain festival.
During my suffering, cars and motorcycles kept passing me. There was one sport bike that I heard two minutes before he passed me at warp 3. It had to have been a 600cc bike b/c I have never heard a 1000cc bike rev that high. I heard him screaming from down below me. Then he got closer. As he ripped past me, I would have sworn out loud, if there was any spare oxygen with in 60 feet of me. Sadly, there was none b/c of my spectacular rate of consumption and general fatigue.
At this point the road splits a rock outcropping; bare naked mountain to the left with a Madonna shrine carved into the mountain, and outcropping to the right, with touches of snow tucked in to the shadows. Before I passed through this, I stopped to take a couple more photos.
I snapped away; the road splitting the mountain, cough, the view of the Adriatic Sea, cough cough, the unreachable-by-bike, snow-covered summit of Mt Vettore, cough cough cough, then finally threw up what was left of my breakfast. Then, lest I forget my suffering, I took a picture of my vomit.
As I clipped back in, Brian caught up to me.
“Look. You can see the ocean from the moon,” I said to him, in reference to our insane altitude. “And I threw up. I took a picture.”
“SWEET! This is now truly and epic climb!” Brian, no matter ho miserable, no matter how black things are around him b/c of the suffering he is subjecting himself to on the bike, is intensely upbeat; as long as the suffering is born from the bike.
One hundred meters farther and we arrived at the parking area that signifies the Forcigliela pass. We took a cursory look around, ducked behind a car in order ourselves from the screaming, maybe 30-40 mph winds and broke out our wind layers and arm warmers in order to prepare for the descent. I snapped a few pictures of the misery in Brian’s eyes, a hiker coming down from the summit of Vettore. In the, maybe, three minutes it took to complete all of those tasks, my shivers turned in to what looked more like seizures.
We rolled out, into the wind and toward the descent. I shifted all the way up to my biggest gear, 53 in the front and 12 in the back, not that I was planning on powering down this killer mountain, but just b/c anything lower would have made me spin wildly, possibly throwing my the balance of my bike.
Brian jetted past me, as he always does.
I looked down and my speed was approaching 32 mph when my bike started to shimmy a little at first. Then progressed in to fairly wild, left to right, harmonic shaking.
I started breaking, with as much pressure as I felt was safe. I called out for Brian to slow down, but he couldn’t hear me with the wind in his ears. The only thing I could think was the video clip Valentino Rossi getting pitched off his motoGP machine as result of violent tank-slapper. Somehow I was able get my speed down and unclip in order to inspect my rig. I checked my spokes by gently squeezing them together and they all seemed to be in order.
I rolled back out, with the mindset of slow and easy, not to upset anything again and cheat death. I got one pedal stroke in to round two of the descent of doom, and PING, there goes a front spoke!
Now, with a front wheel dramatically out of alignment and 5300 feet up a mountain, the only thing I can think to do is flag down a car and ask if they can give me ride to the base of mountain so I can limp this bad boy back to Ascoli.
Enter Gloria and Franco Baldani.
I asked the first car, which had Gloria’s sister in it, in the caravan of two, if they could help me out. I quickly noticed that the car was full. They told me that the car behind them was the second car in their caravan, and that, yes, they could help me, but I should ask Gloria b/c they only had two people and a dog in their car. After asking, in halting Italian, if they could get me to the bottom of the mountain, they said, “Yes, but we have lunch plans but you can come with us.”
“Sei sicuro?” I asked. “Are you sure?”
“Si, si,” Gloria told me.
Shortly before Brian rolled back up and we quickly discussed the situation.
“It’s ride-able. I’ve seen worse,” he said intrepidly.
I preety much said, well you can ride it then, but I am going to get a ride to the bottom with these people.
It was now that I heard Gloria mention pranzo, or lunch.
“Uhh… mio vestiti e una problema?”
No, no my cycling clothes, or as some people like to refer to it, my lingere, would not be a problem.
Then, came the four hour, six course lunch, during which we discussed: where I was from, how much I ride, the excellent quality of Adriatic fish, how fast I ride, how long I am here in italy, why I am here in italy, how many kids Gloria has, how long she has been painting, what she does for work, how often she travels to Rome, why her dog is named Bullma after the wife of Vegeta from Dragonball Z, the local specialty liquors of Ascoli and Ancona and why Varnelli (Ancona’s specialty) can’t be copied even though it’s tried, the type of terrain that is in New Hampshire and how it is different in italy, where Gloria's sister told her hairdresser to stick the 140euro hair cut bill, how cross-country skiers use synthetic seal skin to help them ascend mountains in the winter; ALL IN ITALIAN!
At about 5 o’clock, we got up to leave and they refused to left me pay my share of the bill. We got a group picture and some candids as we walked to the car. Franco told me about the ancient legend/poem of why the mountains in Parco Sibilini are different from the mountains in Parco Monta della Laga; Sibilini had a salt water lake and della Laga had a sweet water lake in it which was responsible for the difference in rock formations, according to a 1400’s poet.
We returned to Ascoli and they dropped me right off in front of my door. We exchanged emails so that I can email them our group photo and, of course, plan when I am to go to Ancona so that Gloria can cook me a good fish dinner and so that Franco can take me for a swim in the Adriatic.

You know how it goes; just another day on the bike in Italy!

In case you missed Ballan's sick attack in Varese...

this is the website of the guy that won the Wednesday afternoon ride.

and this is Ballan's monstrous attack 3km from the finish of the Worlds.

this will not be the first post of many that pimp out other people's websites, news or products. it's just that i didnt see the video of the race and any body that likes cycling should watch this, if only for the fact to see Bettini not win Worlds for once, and the Spanish national team blow it.

Porchetta!!

this is the fellow that sells porchetta sandwiches and ... well ... his product.

and in the last picture, he is adjusting his hat. which took him about 40 seconds. b-c it had to be juuuuuuuust right.

GRUPPO! + recap

roberto told me to be at his shop at 12:35, wednesday.
he told me we were going on a group ride, a friendly ride b/w friends.
if italian cyclists are anything like american cyclists, we're going to try to rip eachothers legs off!
and finally he told that he wsnt going to tell his buddies that i was coming,
that i would be a surprise.
i told him to tell me when to attack and when to go slowly.
i told him that i would be ready.
and i am.

[four hours later...]

the group ride was great. and let me tell you, those guys are STRONG!
once again, they call me "Armstrong". but also they all have spanish nicknames. and i think mine is "Gringo". there were so many names, both proper and nick, flying about that i really dont remember them. there was Roberto, Guido, Pepe, Danielle, Giacomo... that's all that i remember, and i probably couldnt place the right name to the right face. i think there were about 10 of us by the end, b-c we picked people up along the way.

anyways.... as far as the ride is concerned;
every Wednesday these guys do the same route; flat, through Zona Industriale, on to the Bonafica (past the whores, yes thats right, i said whores), then up a 3km climb which is constant and gradual in gradient.

it took me a little while to get acclimated to the pack. one guy, he had Loco in his nickname, started toying with people early and would sprint off and then sit up; just for kicks.
they paceline it and rotate through, same as any group ride.
so we cruised out to the climb at about 23 - 24 mph, nothing to drastic.
we hit the climb and Giudo told me its characteristics. i went to the front and sat there for a little while, in retrospect not long enough.
i had one good attack, then pulled off, b-c chunks of blown up phill were covering the road. Pepe and Roberto stayed on my wheel for my attack and took the lead. i kept dropping back little by little and was about 100meters off Roberto's wheel by the top of the climb.
oh, and as i was pulling off after my attack, a streak shot by me. a young buck named Giacomo blasted past us as though we were standing still. Roberto told me later that he is a pro-am racer, which must be true b.c that kid disapeared!
so, we hit the top, turned around and came back down and followed the exact same roads back to the finishing line; which by the way is a squiggly, spray painted line on the road that i think one fof the boys did himself.
1km from the finish, Danielle attacked. i followed. he let up. then, as i was passing him, Giacomo led a train passed at about 32mph. i caught on, just barely, but spent too much to catch on that i couldnt hold their wheels. Giacomo pulled up the off-ramp that leads to the finishing straight and Loco (?) and someone else drag-raced to the finishing line. Loco won, Giacomo coasted through at third, and i hammered as hard as i could to get fourth, which was uncontentested b-c i got enough of a gap on the field when i tried to catch the Giacomo train.

i was a great ride. Roberto told me to come back every week and by April i will be alot stronger.
every group has its characters; when Guido rolled past me, a couple of times, he said, in fairly good english, "BIG PHIL!" (Phil being pronounced more like 'Feel').
and apparently, Giudo is also the guy that is very strong but never works up front, just sucks wheels all day in a break while you kill yourself.

anyway they were a great group of guys. and i am getting better at understanding moderately paced Italian speech. sometimes i say si or no, then realize what was said. but the guy in the rabobank-looking colors, asked me "venuto a italia per imparare la lengua" or something like that (what he said wsa probably grammatically correct whereas that was not) but i said Sì. then maybe 5 or 10 seconds later, my brain figured it out and i re-affirmed my answer by repeating his phrase with the "I" form instead of the "you" verb conjugation.

overall score 8 out of 10.
10 out of 10 will come when i win their race.

Italian century recap.

left my house at noon-ish.
it was chilly, so i dressed accordingly; knee warmers, long sleeved (UNH, represent!)and, wind vest and wool socks.
i rode to Piazza Arringo to fill up my water bottles and saw a lady ride past me. i filled up me bottles and then caught up to her in order to ask her where she was going. she was just going for a short ride b-c she had to get home for... what ever it is Italians do on sunday; oh yeah, that means nothing, they do nothing all day sunday.
as a side note, she had teddy bear ears affixed to her helmet. it was very cute.
anyways... so i rode to Roccafluvione, which is a esay 20 minute ride. but at one of the intersections, i saw a sign that was hand-written and it read, "Moto pIT bikes".
i didnt think much of it until i arrived in Roccafluvione centro. a parking lot was blocked off and had a hay-bail race track and there were mini-motorbikes racing around.
the second heat was the coolest (as you can see in my photos) b-c there were kids, the youngest being probably 6yo, with helmets bigger than their bikes, racing around this track.

so then i proceeded on to Comunanza on SP237, which was alot like the old, undivided 101. thank god it was on a sunday and there was no traffic b-c an Audi blew past me doing what seemed like 90 mph. but the raod quality was excellent and the shoulders were very wide; oh any who would have guessed it, it was all up hill, tutti in salita.
then there were the tunnels. yes tunnels. about 4 km's of them split up in to 2 separate tunnels; one of about 1 km and the other of about 3 km. these bad-boys were like the tunnels that go under Boston, the kind with giant fans to blow exhaust out of them and call-boxes ever 500 meters. thank god i brought my blimkee light with me. every time i went in to a tunnel i turned it on, even though they are well lit.
let me tell you something about tunnels; even if a car is traveling at a normal rate of speed, approaching you from behind, it will sound like a jet plane. everytime a car was approaching me, i turned around to see if it was a giant freight truck carrying a space shuttle. in fact, each time it was only passenger car.
then came Comunanza, which was nothing particularly special. it seemed rather new (or at least the section i rode through) and rather uninspired. i took a couple of pictures. and was the object of attention b-c two ladies, probably mother and daughter, were eyeballing me as i was taking snapshots of a terraced waterfall thing. the daughter had the thickest glasses allowable on a human being.
i took Contrada San Lorenzo out of Comunanza, headed for Montefalcone Apennino and took the long, round-about way (unintentional) up to the hilltop town. this was the highest point of the ride at 758 meters or 1984 feet!
i cruised around the town alittle bit and took a few pictures of an ancient tower that was in ruins as well as the church at the center of the town. this comes into play later, so remember that.
then the descent. what i am about to say is rather graphic but in no way is it an exaggeration; i think one of my testicles ascended while i was descending out of Montefalcone.
honestly.
no bullshit.
i was that high and that cold. the only thing i can compare it to, although i have never done it, is the polar bear club swims in the winter. i was sweaty and wet from the 30 minutes of climbing with my heart pumping at about 185 bpm, then flew through switchback at 25mph (i ahve gained enough confidence to look at my computer while in a turn now) and hitting 38 mph on the straigh aways, WITHOUT pedaling!
the strange thing here is that with so much elevation change in so little linear distance that the temperature changes in ways that i have never had to deal with before.
then i took Contrada Santa Croce into San Vittoria in Matenano. i dont know that i took pictures of that town specifically, but it was beautiful, like all the other hilltop fortress towns.
from there, i went to Montelparo.
which was interesting b-c as i was leaving San Vittoria, i could see a giant rock face with a town on top. i thought, 'wow. that's really stunning. i wonder what town that is.' then, strangely enough, almost like i planned it, the road took me there.
the first intersection you come to in Montelparo is a seven way, ridiculous mess. since i was in no particular rush, i went up (always up) into the Centro. i found a little piazza in front of a giant church. from there i could see the two towers of Montefalcone and the hilltoptown of San Vittoria. it was so neat to be able to see where i had been! i took a picutre and drew on it in MSPaint.
after that, i went to Sant'Elpidio Morico, which had another gigantic church. go figure....
not to down play these tremendous churches, but they all kind of look the same after you see twenty in one day.
at this point i took a wrong turn. i headed downhill which is a huge mistake around here; b-c as we all know what goes up must come down and at this point i wasnt really interested in slogging back uphill to get back on track. the original ride plan ws to get on top a ridge line and ride that to the ocean. i wanted to go toward Montottone and Monte Vidon Combatte.
but as i said, plans had changed.
i dropped into a valley and rode along roads that had vegatation that looked almost tropical, lush and vibrantly green.
i headed down through Monsampietro Moirco on Via Ete, eventually hitting Grottazzolina.
Grottazzolina is ugly. i rode an industrial road (maybe SP239) in a timetrial position and didnt miss anything. i only looked up to check the road quality. at this point my legs were getting a little rubbery and starting to fatigue. i would big-ring it for awhile, push 23-ish mph. then dump it into the little ring and spin so that my legs wouldnt fall off of my body.
Fermo was next. and guess where Fermo is in relation to Grottazzolina? right! UP!
i road past a sign that advertised "SexyShop". and past a dead kitten on the side of the road.
if that doesnt give you an accurate description of Fermo you might need to see it with your own eyes.
then down, down, down to Porto San Giorgio and the Adriatic!
in typical phil-style, i took a divided highway, when i could have ducked onto a side/commercial street. oops. once again, thank goodness it was sunday and the streets were empty.
before i hit the ocean and SS16, (route 1A equivalent), i went in to a Bar (bar = cafe) and got a pastry and a cappucino. i told the barrista that i was very hungry but only had three euros. she laughed alittle. She probably figured that i was diseased and crazy by the way i was hobbling and the way i smelled, and only charged me 2 euros. i dont know if that was actually what it cost or if she realized how much of a pitycase i was.
so then, after nearly a month here, i saw the Adriatic Ocean!
it is very green. the Adriatic is as green as the Tirreno is blue.
along SS16, at one point i could see 6 off-shore oil platforms.
i went through a couple of towns and alot of closed-for-the-season resorts, as well as a couple of 4 star camping resorts. maybe i just misread the signs or maybe camping resorts are rated out of 40 stars. who knows?
then it was on to Grottamare, San Benedetto del Tronto and Porto d'Ascoli. which all look the same; beachside resort-y type towns that are more or less closed for the season. and b-c it was sunday, if i forgot to mention that already.
i found Via Salaria in Porto d'Ascoli and beagn the long, miserable slog home.
the Salaria is SS4, which means that is was the fourth road the Roman empire built and was used to haul salt from the Adriatic to Roma.
it is all up hill, 153 meters up hill to be exact. at this point i was pushing about 16 mph and completely tapped out.
10 km from Ascoli my quads started to cramp up, which has never happened to me before. when i tried to stretch them, by unclipping from my pedals and putting the laces of my shoe on my seat, my hamstring started to cramp and charlie-horse. so i stretched those however i could and pushed on.
5 km from Ascoli, it started to drizzle. then i got home and had .7 miles to go until 100.
i rode up the street and back and got my 100.