Saul's Adventure at the Giro delle Dolomiti July/August 2004

Made It!

The 28th annual Giro delle Dolomiti takes place on the last week of July in the picturesque town of Bolzano or Bozen as it is known by it’s mainly German speaking South Tyrolian inhabitants. Alto Adige as the region is known today, was Italy’s prize for cooperating with the allies in the first world war. In a wave of Italian Nationalism the Fascists renamed many of the German place names with Italian ones shortly after taking power in the 20’s. Today this mountainous region harmoniously blends German and Italian culture in a unique flavour. The Giro also blends cycling culture with a mix of German and Italian cyclist with a smattering of Norwegians, other Europeans and one Canadian; me. Some 700 cyclists participate in this test of endurance, speed and determination. For seven days riders enjoy fast paced cycling on a semi-closed road course up and down the famed Dolomite Peaks and valleys. Many of which are included in the Giro d’Italia. Each ride includes a time trial up the most challenging climb of the day. Time is monitored electronically and totals are kept for the week.

Stage One, Sunday Morning

6:30am breakfast
7:45 drop off my bag with rain gear, light shell and a dry undershirt. It will be transported to the top of the time trial climb.
It rained most of yesterday and it’s cool and cloudy this morning.
Me and about 700 cyclists of various ages gathered at the fair grounds for the start.
8:00am and we are off and rolling at a controlled pace. For 21 km we are escorted along the valley floor. I am dressed comfortably for the cool morning air. At the village of Lana we begin the flying time trial, 18km, up 1200m to the Passo Palade. The climb is steady and unrelenting. Only the wide left-hand switchbacks give me a break from the pitch. What the left-hand gives the right-hand takes away. The right turning switchbacks are sharp and steep. I am working too hard. My heart rate is racing and I’m being passed. I shift into my easiest gear and ease up on my effort. It works and my heart rate drops to a high but sustainable level. At about the halfway point I start to feel good. I maintain the same pace but I am staring to pass lots of riders, like the tortoise, “slow and steady”. The valley below appears far away. A cooling breeze blows every now and then. Just enough to let me know how soaked with sweat I am. There are more frequent breaks from the steep climb with flat sections and the occasional dip, just enough to shift into a bigger gear. Around a corner I finally see where we are going. The pass appears to be a good 5km away. Discovering finity spurns me on. I am passing even more cyclists. The signs ahead indicate 3k, 2k and finally 1k. As I near the pass the pitch increases but I push on. Over the rise I spot the finish line. I still have energy. To my surprise I pickup the pace and so do the two other riders near me. We actually sprint to the line where my chip chirps. In the middle, not first and not last, I’m 60th out of 120 in my age group.
When I finally stop to refill my water bottles at the village spring I realize I am drenched from sweat. Three icy, shivering km’s downhill to the feed zone and my bag of dry clothes. The sun is shining and restores warmth to my chilled bones.
After some drinks and cookies I am ready to go. I ascend 2km back up and continue the warming trend. The next 13 km are fast and downhill on a gentle descent to the town of Fondo. In the town we are greeted by cheering townsfolk. The rest is short lived with another climb for 8km up to the Passo Mendola and a last feed zone. After a short break we head down the long descent back into the valley. This is a steep treacherous descent with lots of switchbacks. Due to the number of riders, I find myself almost coming to a stop to clear the crowds on the first few switchbacks. The pace opens up just as the view of the valley does. It is hard to believe that I am going all the way down there. It’s like looking out an airplane window. There are deep gorges and shear rock faces all around. I start to find the rhythm on the corners and am able to keep a steady pace even though I can’t let up on the brakes for fear of hitting the cyclist in front of me. At the bottom the heat of the noonday sun forces me to stuff my shell into my back pocket for the 13 slightly downhill km’s to Bolzano. The pace quickens from 30-40k and the group stretches out in a long line pointing to Bolzano. Back at the Fair grounds I eat, refresh and chat about the day with a couple of Norwegians. Not too many English speakers here.

Ever get that sinking feeling that you got the departure time wrong?

At 7:45 The Fierra was abandoned not a sole in site. I stopped a lone cyclist, “Toota Patrita”. I asked which way? And gave up on chasing down the groups 15minute head start on the grounds that I had no idea which way they went. I literally ride into the Giro office. I am immediately recognized as the ‘Canadaise’. One of the women in the office offers to drive me to the group in her car. We rush off into Bolzano’s morning rush hour. After a few tense minutes we spot the train of riders slowly heading up the first hill. I transfer to an official race vehicle and head uphill. Traffic is already backing up behind the train of cyclists. Now that I know where I am going I get out and start to chase down…I mean chase up the group. First I have to get past all the cars and busses that trail the road closure. I dodge around busses between cars until I start to catch the trailing cyclists who have fallen behind the group. The first is a rather large man dressed in yellow, shorts and jersey. I sure feel fast passing cars and cyclist in my bid to rejoin the group. I have never passed so much traffic before. When I spot the trailing support vehicles, ambulances and police, I know I am on track and can finally ease up on my pace so I could survive the rest of this torturous day’s ride. As I climb the switchbacks I realized that this is the same road to Oberbozen that I road on Friday. The familiarity gives me a sense of security as I pass the familiar Loaker Biscuit factory. In front of me lay the image of the Loaker package… the Scherln Masif. This means that I am near the top. Nine-hundred meters out of 2700 that will be the days total. We bypass Oberbozen and followed the plateau to Collalbo, stopping for well needed refreshments in the town’s ice rink. What a rink. In addition to a full blown hockey rink, they have a beautiful outdoor long track speed skating oval. In the 26C heat there is no sign of ice. We set out on a long spectacular descent. It seems like we are loosing more elevation than we had climbed as we head down the valley. At times the road narrows to a single lane as we skirt vineyards and barns. At the valley floor we continue to quickly descend towards the start of the time trial. Ten km’s and 1000m it is steeper and tougher than the day before. Fortunately it is shorter. We gain an amazing amount of elevation in the first few k’s. It is steep. At the top I sprint to the line. I doen’t have the speed I had yesterday. At the top, I stop and cover my sweat soaked jersey with my shell to stay warm on my descent to the feed station and my dry undershirt.
After a short break it is up and down along the high plateau with spectacular views of classic dolimite peaks and the distant valley far below. Then the bonus climb, 7 excruciating km’s up 800m, it is steeper than anything I have climbed yet. It is painful. At the top, is a ski resort and a hot lunch. I arrive with the first group and a short line-up for food. As we are leaving a cheer as the last climber arrives. It is the man in yellow. The descent is down an even steeper road. At one very treacherous point we all stop. I notice that people are letting air out of their tires. I check my rims, they are too hot to touch. I let some air out to avoid a blow out. We inch past a cyclist who is now lying under a tree. She is covered in road rash. Help is near by, so we even more carefully continue the long chute to the valley. The valley continues down though a steep rock gorge at high speed. And eventually back to town. 64th place in my age group out of 120.