Wet, Though Not Quite "Epic "

Linda and I rode the Solvang spring double century on March 26, 2011. We went against our better judgment, believing that the forecasts for rain were exaggerated. Watching the local news from our hotel room on Friday night confirmed it. The local weather guy, don't know if he was out of SLO or Santa Maria, said that the storm would stay to the north and "just brush" the area. We probably wouldn't see any rain at all or, if we did, it would be very light and quick to pass by.

Pffft. . . .

We chose to ride Solvang because we had waived Death Valley in February due to inclement weather (turned out that time that it didn't rain all that much but they did have terrific headwinds). I rode Solvang last year, liked it well enough, but the ride lacks the vibe of the club-run centuries and double centuries. And, boy, the gal from Planet Ultra, the ride promoter, that was checking riders out in the morning, and then back in the evening, she was a cranky ol' thing. Sure, it was a long day. Sure, it was probably for very little reward. But geez, she couldn't have been more dour and ill-tempered if she tried. I don't know who she is, I don't know her name, I don't know her story. All I do know is that her collective experience that day must have worn on her from the start.

Linda took off from the lovely Buellton Days Inn at about 5 am. I guess this Days Inn is famous, or something:

http://www.daysinn.com/DaysInn/control/Booking/property_info?propertyId=11567

I was a little too cold and waited until 6:30. Looking at the sky, there was some overcast but rain was nowhere near imminent. So far, so good.

I'm a little odd in that I expect to ride doubles alone. I don't want to draft anybody, and I don't invite anyone to draft off of me. I figure it's my 200 miles to ride and I'm going to ride all of them. It's hard sometimes to see a big group go powering by and letting it go. Particularly when it contains a few people that you passed earlier. So it was with some folks that I happened to leave the hotel with about the same time. They were going just fast enough where getting in front of them would have been faster than I wanted to go (they'd have seen it as a challenge), but they were going just slow enough where I didn't like following. I finally got to get around them when we hit a short hill just going into Solvang. They slowed way down and I slipped by them. A few minutes later they, and about 20 others, came motoring by behind a tandem.

I was feeling pretty good. I was worrying about my knee because it had been giving me problems since I whacked it against the corner bedpost of our bed back on February 16th. The Doc classified it as a "periosteal bruise", a bond bruise, of my knee cap. It's the stupidest thing. It doesn't hurt when I walk, it's almost like it disappears when I'm not on the bike. The last few weeks it would hibernate for the first 2-3 hours of a ride and then rear its head with a vengeance. I was listening closely for any sense of discomfort in that knee. Actually, did pretty well. Three hours came and went and all was good. I didn't experience any pain sufficient enough to even slow me down, although I could tell that it was irritated. After the ride, though, hoo-boy. There was a great deal of pain. I drove from Buellton to Jerry's house in Cayucos and it hurt my knee just to pivot my foot on my heel to switch from the gas pedal to the brake pedal and back. I was very nervous, thinking that I'd really screwed it up. It acted up the same way while driving home Sunday and actually felt like a real knee injury for a while there. . . it hurt even when I wasn't on the bike. By Monday, though, it was almost as if nothing had happened. It's the stupidest thing.

The sky never really looked all that bad all morning. I passed the first rest stop and it was looking pretty good. We almost made it all the way to the 2nd stop at around mile 86 when the first drops arrived. It was obvious looking north towards Morro Bay that it was going to be wet for a while. I though that maybe it'd rain while we headed north and then quit sometime after the turn back towards Buellton. Nothing doing. It rained the entire time (with few breaks) theraefter.

It was relentless. And it was strange how much a toll it took by the end of the day. When it first started it filled my shoes immediately with water. I could deal with that. Wet's wet, I figured, and once wet, you can't get any wetter, right?

It's a good thing the temps were relatively mild as I didn't have full finger gloves or anything on my legs (just shorts). The long fingered gloves probably would have been just as bad, or even worse, unless they were waterproof gloves. Even so, later in the ride I was having trouble squeezing my water bottles or using my hands at all. I could barely operate the shifters. I don't know how much the poor shifting performance I was experiencing was due to my hands, and how much was due to the impact of the water and grit build up. Even today, April 6th, I still note some weakness in my grip of my right hand.

Except for my hands, though, I really didn't feel all that bad. The legs were good, for the most part. My arms, back, neck, etc., were all good.

It's amazing what the rain and grit did to the bike though. There was so much sand and crud being thrown up on the bike and clothes and everywhere. On top of that, the ag fields close by the roads had mud tracks from trucks/tractors/etc. entering and exiting the fields. The roads, particularly around Guadalupe, were a filthy mess. Throw on top of that the poor road surface, the rain, just everything made it a mess to deal with.

You'd apply the brakes and wince as you heard the rims being sanded away by the grit build up on the brake pads and on the braking surface of the wheels. I figure there was a good 6-7 hours of hard rain and sopping wet conditions. Water got into every place imaginable on the bike. My front brake pads were worn to nubs, my rear pads weren't much better.

And, oh, man the flat tires!! I didn't have any, but a lot of other people did. I never saw so many people pulled over to the side of the road repairing flats. I was amazed, and nervous waiting for my turn. For whatever reason I was spared.

I had some muscle issues in my left thigh that disappeared quickly after finishing. My right knee left me pretty well alone. It never felt badly, and never raised cause for concern or gave me thoughts of needing to stop. After the ride, though, it hurt like hell. It was worrisome because it was hurting AFTER I'd quit riding. Every other time before now, it would hurt while riding, then stop when I stopped riding. This time it stayed. I drove to Cayucos after the ride and drove the trip home to El Dorado. Pivoting my right foot on my heel to operate the gas/brake in the car caused a great deal of pain. I thought I'd blown it for good and I'd be out of riding for months. After we got home Sunday night, I iced it. Iced it as much as I could Monday. By Monday night, it was slightly tender to the touch, but that was it. It almost, very nearly felt normal. Bizarre.

So. . . very wet. Screwed up the bike big time. Cold hands, but everything else was working pretty well. Dirty roads. Rough roads. Wet. Mud. Grit. Wet. Rusty, dry chain. It was messy, but not quite epic. My ride last year in France doing the Marmotte route. . . THAT was epic.

Linda had her own story. She had to bag it at the last rest stop with about 25 miles to go because of a broken cable restricting her to just 1 or 2 gears. She wasn't sure what was ahead and people were telling her the climbing was hellacious, so she bagged it. Which was too bad because 1) the climbs weren't bad, and 2) she was SO close. God bless her.

Ailment

So my doctor tells me he thinks my knee issue, lovingly brought on by a tangle (or near tangle) with my cat, is a "periosteal bruise". I guess there's a thin membrane, or tissue, or something covering some (all?) of our bones--kneecap in my case--that can be bruised and take months to heal. I don't know. Sounds good to me. I've not put it to the test since by ride to Elk Grove on March 12th. Everything I've done since then has been pretty low intensity, and short duration. I've ridden only 143 miles since the 12th. Not a great way to start off the cycling season.

On deck--Solvang Double March 26th (looks like it'll be wet), Devil Mtn Double in April, Central Coast Double in May, Terrible Two and Climb to Kaiser in June, and probably one more double after that. Unless Linda and I decide to go on the Sac Wheelmen Oregon Tour in late July. It interferes with the Mt Tam Double so we're trying to figure out which we want to do.

My Cat's Got It In For Me

My Tormentor, giving the Evil Eye

On February 22, 2011, while simply traversing the doorway to my bedroom, Tycho got under foot and, in order to avoid stepping right on him, I ran my right knee directly into the corner bedpost. It hurt like any other blow to the knee. . . figured it'd hurt a couple of days, develop a bruise, and then it'd be all over. That was a Tuesday. On Thursday, while on the trainer, the knee hurt and I quickly figured, hmm, okay, that's from that blow to the knee.

I rode 65 miles Saturday without any discomfort. The next day, though, Linda and I rode to Davis from Folsom (with The Habit at the turnaround) and by about 1/4 of the way back on the return trip, my knee started to hurt a little bit. Then a little more, and more. It hurt while sitting, hurt worse while standing. It was tough to pinpoint the exact cause since it seemed to be sensitive to the touch only at the point the knee made impact with the bedpost, but the pain enveloped the whole front of the knee. If I'd stop for a few minutes and start riding again, the pain would disappear for a few miles and then start up again. It was quite debilitating, more so from the standpoint over concern whether I'd do more damage by continuing to ride.

Made it home. . . knee didn't hurt. No pain while walking, though still painful if the point of impact was touched. I didn't turn a pedal for five days. By Friday it felt pretty good. No pain to the touch. Figured I was good to ride Saturday. Rode with the Revolutions folks. El Dorado Hills out Salmon Falls to 49, over to Prospector, Georgetown, Cool, back to Pilot Hill where we parted ways. I headed to do the out-and-back on Rattlesnake Bar Rd while the rest of the crew headed back to EDH.

About 2 miles into the 9 towards Folsom Lake, there goes my knee again--just as savagely as the week before. This time, too, there were tendon issues behind my left knee--hopefully unrelated. I couldn't decide whether to continue, turn back or what. It wasn't like I could just stop and climb into the car, I had about 25 miles to go before I could get back to the car.

I made it out to the lake, rested it for a while and the 9 miles back to Pilot Hill were a little better, but the pain was still hampering my ability to climb, or apply any power up a hill. For whatever reason, after that, things went pretty well the rest of the way back on Salmon Falls.

Post-ride, the knee was hurting like it was before my 5 days off. Today, March 8th, it still hurts like it did two weeks ago. No pain to walk, just riding. And it seems the easier the pedal stroke the more it hurts. It's driving me mad. Stay off the bike completely for another week? Two?

I'm supposed to ride the Solvang Double in two weeks--when am I supposed to get some miles in? It's such a stupid injury, doubly so not knowing what it is I did. I'm falling behind in training. The first Folsom Canal time trials were today--wanted to do that series this year. I've got Devil Mountain next month, Central Coast in May, Terrible Two and Climb to Kaiser in June. I've got to be getting in some miles!!

I'm supposed to see a doctor Monday or Tuesday. It'll be three weeks since the injury by that time. Too bad I'm not on anybody's payroll, a doctor would have seen me by now!

Bass Lake Powerhouse Double Century 2010

Okay, so it's not all Europe. With this entry I make a decidedly domestic turn by describing my double century of October 9, 2010.

Linda and I drove to Clovis Friday night, October 8, to be there in plenty of time to rest up and ride the Bass Lake Powerhouse Double Century hosted by the Fresno Cycling Club on Saturday morning. This was my second time to the event, Linda’s first. It was particularly important for Linda because, if completed, it would be her third double century of the year and, thus, she would be a “California Triple Crown” winner:

http://www.caltriplecrown.org/

I’ll let Linda describe her full story elsewhere. We woke up at 3 a.m., hoping to be at the start around 4. Linda was a little nervous about the midnight cutoff time for completion so wanted to start as early as she could. Despite our best efforts, we headed out a little later than we hoped. We stopped by Denny’s for our traditional pre-ride meal: the trusty Grand Slam (original). Not sure of the calorie count, carbs, protein, etc., but it’s served us well these past two years (I don’t eat Denny’s any other time).

We arrived at the ride start at a little after 4 a.m. and we should have started at around 4:15. We went through equipment checks prior to having left our house Friday morning and again in Clovis on Friday night. We tested Linda’s light Friday night. Check. I had inflated tires Friday morning before we left. Check. Once at the ride start, we got the bikes out. Linda plugged her light in, flipped the switch. Nothing. Unplug it, plug it back in. Nothing. Nite Rider. Bah! Stupid thing. I know the battery was fully charged—it was charged Thursday night. I saw it plugged in and charging. I have no idea what happened.

Next, I take my bike out of the back of the car and set it on the ground. Instead of the solid, reassuring, almost bouncy feedback when the rear tire makes contact with the ground I got the tell-tale thud of a flat tire. What the. . . ? I just pumped that thing up!! I hadn’t ridden it since the Sunday before. The tire was only about 5 pounds low on pressure when I pumped it up. It didn’t make any sense. It was completely flat. How do I get a flat tire without riding the thing??

Not exactly the start to the day that inspires confidence. I repaired the flat. Linda left a few minutes before me with her helmet light only. She bought this AMAZINGLY bright flashlight (Fenix PD30—the thing’s awesome) that she intended to use later, after dark, just to be sure, in case her Nite Rider used all its juice. Without the Nite Rider, the flashlight was her intended light for the evening. The only problem was she wasn’t sure how long the batteries would last. She chose not to use it in the morning to conserve the batteries. She started about 4:36, I left after her at 4:57. Once I caught up I rode with her using my headlight as a guide, the Mity Cross 350 (now that’s a fine light) until the sun rose, which worked out to be right about the same time we reached the first rest stop at around mile 35.5.

The morning temps were tolerable without arm/knee warmers, though still cold enough to affect my ability to squeeze liquid out of my water bottles. I hate that feeling—trying to will the hands to work, but they won’t cooperate. Oh it’s completely safe, I can still hold the handlebars, shift gears, use the brakes. I just can’t squeeze a water bottle.

The first 73 miles of this double are almost perfectly flat. Kinda dull most of the second half of that. Lot’s of pace lines these first miles. There was a tandem which, of course, was followed by dozens of suckers-on. For myself, I choose to ride alone, sans pace lines. If it’s true that a rider expends up to 20%-30% less energy riding in a pace line then it appears to me (assuming the lower 20% figure) that pace line participants effectively ride only 160 miles (20% of 200 = 40 from 200 = 160). Personally, I figure if I signed up for 200 miles, I want to ride 200 miles. I need to feel I’ve accomplished it on my own. (I-Linda usually can’t hang on to a pace line so that isn’t an option for me!!!).

I suppose I could do these doggone things faster if I rode pace lines; but, for now, I’ll ride my own rides. Plus, the pace lines can be downright hazardous to your health, what with unfamiliar riders, inexperienced riders, etc.

As Linda and I were getting ready to leave the first rest stop, the mass starters that left at 5:15 were arriving in a big ol’ pack. I left the first rest stop far enough ahead to where one small group caught me about 12 miles later, then the big tandem-led group caught me about 6 miles from the 2^nd rest stop.

One fellow picked up my tail as I passed him and he rode with me a while. We had a chance to close in on the first pace line that had passed us and he suggested we take off after them. I told him, “no thanks, I ride on my own.” He must have thought I was some kind of idiot. Must have sounded like one, I admit. He took off after them but gave up after a few minutes and fell back in behind me where he stayed for the next 10 miles, or so, until the tandem train went by. He latched on to them and away he went, with probably fifty other people.

We all met up again at the next rest stop (along with the first pace line, too). It’s a hassle letting these pace lines go by because, for a few moments, you’re going the same speed. I do everything I can to dropout of the draft, off to one side, or the other, wishing they’d get past so I could get back to my own thing.

I did see one crash, but it didn’t involve the pace lines. On Piedra Rd, just after my first rest stop, there was a group of 3-4 other folks coming the other direction (very early starters on their way to the 2^nd rest stop). All of a sudden, one of the guys is down in the road rolling around. I don’t what he did, I think he must have clipped the back wheel of the woman in front of him. He was up quickly and there were 4-5 other riders there to assist. I stopped to be polite, but there was nothing one more guy standing around gawking at him was going to do, so I continued on. I saw him later on at the post-ride meal—he did finish looking none the worse for wear. . . a rip in his shorts, bandaged, blood soaking through. Poor guy.

After the first rest stop the climbing began. The vast majority of this ride’s estimated 9400 feet of climbing comes in the 87 miles between rest stops #2 and #5 (or between miles 73 and 160). None of the early climbing is particularly strenuous (depending, of course, on how fast you’re trying to climb it). The climbs around Pine Flat Lake are pretty tame. The roads near Pine Flat Lake are most interesting because of the tarantulas seen crossing the road. I counted four—I missed them all (on purpose). I didn’t need tarantula guts all over my frame or wheels or, heaven forbid, on ME.

I saw Garth Powell, the fellow that I followed blindly the wrong way in the 2009 edition cutting off 23 miles. I made a comment to him asking him if he’d stayed on course this year. I don’t think he heard me or, if he did, he ignored me. The guy never admitted to having shortened the course. I heard him after the ride Saturday night saying how his time was way off last year’s and how he was just so tired at a certain section. “Sometimes it just works out that way.” Well, yeah, dipstick, you rode only 177 miles last year!!

Honestly, I don’t care much for the scenery around Pine Flat Lake. Once we steered away from the lake towards Tollhouse and Auberry, the scenery improved, for me, significantly.

After the lunch stop in Auberry the heart of the climbing came in. Following a fabulous descent to Kerckhoff Lake the most significant climb up Powerhouse Rd to North Fork was on hand. It has steep stretches, probably 10%-12%, but these weren’t too long. The weather cooperated fully. I imagine this area can be an oven midsummer—minimal shade, canyon, etc. We were lucky to have temps in the upper 70’s-low 80’s I’d guess. I don’t know the total length of the climb. . . 5 miles? 6? I was happy to see it end at North Fork.

Next was a relatively simple looking climb on Road 274 to Pines Resort on Bass Lake. This 7-8 mile stretch was my traditional “what-the-heck-am-I-doing-here”, “why-am-I-doing-this” moment that comes up at some point in almost every double I’ve done. I don’t know why here. . . after the initial mile, or so, it wasn’t steep, and it was occasionally downhill here and there. I was just a little limp, counting the pedal strokes. At one point I thought I was doing okay because I could see I’d closed the gap on the guy that had left before me from Auberry. As soon as I’d caught sight of him, though, he almost as quickly faded into the distance as I faded a bit. I made it, though. I felt much better thereafter, having been able to eat and drink a bit.

The climb back out of Kerckhoff Lake on Powerhouse Rd. back to Auberry was the last significant climb and came after the huge downhill that we’d come up earlier. Linda was worried about going back up to Auberry from this direction, much as I felt last year after having gone down and then fearing what it was going to be like to go back up on the way back. It’s not nearly as hard as the impression it gives. It’s steady, only one or two steep portions. Piece of cake.

On the way down Powerhouse, en route to this final climb, Linda’s and my paths crossed. I figured I’d see her coming up so I was on the lookout for her. I called out when I saw her, downshifted to turn back up hill, and she stopped to talk for a moment. She was feeling good, looking good. A little nauseous. After a few moments, we continued on our ways. Linda had spoken with Scott Halverson of the Quackcyclists in the morning at one of the early rest stops. She mentioned her Nite Rider situation and Scott saved her with an extra light he just happened to have with him that he loaned to her. So she was set for nighttime. She had her helmet light, her Fenix flashlight, and Scott’s loaner. The flashlight, by the way, had a clip on it, similar to what you’d see on a pen, that allowed her to clip the flashlight, pointing the right direction, to bag she carries on the front of her bike.

A little ways down from where I saw Linda I came across another rider sitting in the shade, on the ground, next to his bike. I thought there was a mechanical issue, so I slowed to ask if everything was alright. He said he was feeling what he feared were the early signs of heat stroke. He said he’d been sitting there for 15 minutes trying to gather his wits. He said he’d been waiting for a SAG vehicle but none had come by. I asked if he was having any cardiac issues we needed to worry about, he said no. I told him that I’d flag down the next SAG I saw, and let the folks know at the next rest stop in Auberry that rider #310 was having trouble and to watch out for him. I did have a SAG pass me, which I flagged down. He was coming from the direction where #310 was sitting and the driver said he hadn’t seen anyone. He drove back once more to look, nothing. He drove ahead to let the Auberry staff know what was up.

Once back at Auberry for a short refueling, the last 40 miles raced by. Except for just two little hills that I can recall, maybe three if you count the little hill on Auberry Rd after leaving the last rest stop, it was all downhill or flat. After 160 miles, though, these little hills are sappers. Thankfully quite short. Anyway, I was feeling pretty good and was having thoughts to simply skip the last rest stop. I did stop briefly to give my number and have a small snack. I wanted to finish and it was just a short 15 miles to the end. I made pretty good time, considering.

I passed the point where I flatted last year—so far the only flat I’ve had during a double in 11 finishes (I don’t count the one from the morning because it happened before I’d even started. Looking at the tube afterwards, it appears the base of the stem weakened and a hole was formed. Maybe I bent it too hard to one side, I don’t know).

I was in at 5:58 p.m., 13 hrs 1 minute total time, 12 hrs 1 minute riding time, 16.7 mph avg. I still need to figure out how to cut down on rest stop times. An hour seems like a long time.

Linda called me at 8:41 p.m. from the Auberry rest stop, on her way back, 40 miles to go. At first I feared whether she’d make the midnight cutoff time, forgetting how fast the final 40 miles are. She rolled in at somewhere just after 10:30 p.m. Great ride. Made her “Triple Crown”. Finished up the last 40 miles in under 2 hours, including 1 stop. She had riders lined up behind her because of the brightness of her flashlight.

Who crossed the finish line with Linda? #310, Steve Robenalt from Cameron Park, CA, just down the road from us. He told me at the finish that after he spoke with me earlier in the afternoon he thought he was feeling better and figured he’d at least start walking. He saw the same SAG guy I saw drive up, stop, ask how he was doing, and told him he was fine. Steve said that after a few more minutes he was feeling better still, got back on the bike and kept going.

Rating the Accommodations - Garda, Italy

July 4-6, 2010, 3 nights.

Hotel Giotto di Lorenzi Ezio
Via Carducci, 17
37016 Garda

http://www.holidaycheck.co.uk/hotel-Travel+pictures_Hotel+Giotto-ch_ub-hid_35146.html

We don't even have any of our own photos of Hotel Giotto. Not because there was anything wrong with it. It was actually pretty good. I guess by this point we were tired, and a little disappointed with the whole Lake Garda vibe.

Supposedly, Lake Garda's considered Italy's most beautiful lake. It may be one of the largest, but Lake Como's certainly its equal in terms of beauty. And we didn't even see Lugano or Maggiore.

Our enthusiasm was dampened (melted) by the persistent heat and humidity after we'd dropped down from the Dolomites. In hindsight, we should have remained in one, or several, of the northern visits a day, each, longer--Bormio, Arabba, Cortina. Maybe even Lake Como.

So, the next trip should be in September after the July and August invasions. May is too early as you run the risk of some of the high famed passes being closed to snow. Stelvio and Gavia were barely opened in time for our visit. Gavia had to be cleared of snow for the Giro and we heard that the Stelvio had been opened just a week before our arrival. In France, too, this holds true. The Galibier was closed due to lingering winter snow drifts. By September all the prior winter's snow is long gone. That's not to say you don't run the risk of new snow, but it's a bit early for much of that to be happening. Although I will say that a Facebook entry today, September 27, 2010, from our hosts in Bourg d'Oisans, the Coldray's, said that it snowed there in the last few days.

Anyway, I'm off topic.

We found Hotel Giotto by visiting the local tourism office. They were extremely helpful. A nice English-speaking woman helped us narrow down what were looking for. We paid a 10 euro fee, which was applied to our hotel fees, and she found us several possibilities. It worked out very well.

The hotel itself was nice, it had AC (that was an absolute requirement), it was clean and had a nice view of the lake and of Garda itself. The breakfast was one of the more disappointing. There was plenty to eat, the choices weren't as good as we'd become accustomed to.

The staff was nice enough, though almost impossible to communicate with. We managed to get through without any controversies or problems until it came time to check-out and pay. They accepted cash only, so we had to make a walk down to the ATM to draw some funds. Not a big deal.

They had a computer with internet access, but it wasn't readily available. There was an internet cafe nearby that we used a few times, it was expensive considering the speeds--atrociously slow. Seemed to work only half the time. It was exasperating.

I documented one of the two rides we did in Garda, Peri to Fossi. The only other ride we did was out to Sirmione, which was on the tip of a narrow peninsula that jutted into the lake from its southern shore.

We left Pagnano for Lake Garda on a Sunday figuring that the crowds would have been dying down on a Sunday afternoon. Wrong! The road into the area was bumper-to-bumper with cars all trying to get down to the lake. I assume it was just to be able to get into the water, because the lake did not offer any respite from the heat and humidity we'd encountered since coming south from Cortina d'Ampezzo.

Traffic, people, heat, humidity. Lake Garda failed to impress. It was pretty, summer's not the time to go. And the traffic! Oh, the traffic!! Man. The ride we took to Sirmione was a nightmare. A constant flow of traffic, fast-moving, narrow roads, no shoulder, back-ups in the towns created near chaos. The roads were so narrow that when there were back-ups there wasn't enough room to get by on the right. Most Italian riders would ride on the left--exposing themselves to oncoming traffic and left turners from both directions. We didn't see any accidents, though.

The portion of the lake we rode was not a cyclist's paradise. It's a big lake. Maybe some of the other portions of the lake are better. My guess is that anything on the shoreline was the same and you would need to head up into the hills away from the coast line to find decent riding (like Peri to Fosse--although that required a drive of almost an hour to get to the ride start--though you could certainly start from further away if we'd had more gumption and knowledge of the area). To be fair, the same held true at Lake Como. It was cooler at Lake Como, though, and they have the Tour of Lombardy!

A Few Words About Venice

The Rialto

We visited Venice on Friday, July 2, 2010.

A few words?


Teaming with people even on a slow day.

Hot (sure, could have been avoided by visiting sometime between October and April).

Humid (ditto).

Dirty (not much you can do about this one).

Graffiti (not much they are doing about this one).

Green, putrid water (what can you do about this one?).

The gondolas reminded my of the "Small World", or any other ride, at Disneyland (without the horrible music). Gondolas lined up nose-to-tail--at who knows how much a pop, $100?--as if they were on those little rails that you see at amusement park rides. I almost expected to see some young kid in a park uniform queuing up the folks in turn as they stood in line to board the boats.



Take a look at the famed Rialto Bridge. . . . One of the iconic structures of Venice. It's a run-down mess. Many of the buildings around Venice are in sad shape.

The water smells. The city smells. People are everywhere. The shops are tourist traps selling over-priced junk.

Oh, but they had a Burger King!

I absolutely, completely failed to see the romance in Venice. It's a decaying, sinking, sad mess. We saw dozens--and there are certainly hundreds--of smaller towns throughout Italy with as lengthy a history and far more charm than Venice.

I know I said in an earlier post that I'd provide a sentence about Venice, and I later mentioned I'd have three sentences on Venice. I couldn't express my disappointment with our foray to Venice in so few words. The train ride from Castelfranco Veneto to Venice and back was fun. It was only about an hour, or hour and a half. Pretty inexpensive, too. There's not a better way to get there and back than the way we did it--taking a car down there, I hear, is troublesome and not worth the hassle (and prone to break-ins).

I can say I've seen it, and I can say I have no need or desire to go back.

Rating the Accommodations - Casa Pagnano, Pagnano Italy

After two days, Monte Grappa was finally visible!

Casa Paganano from the front--take the stairway in that little recessed area to the 2nd floor and there's the room!

Casa Pagnano, Pagnano, Italy
Via Vallorgana 22
Pagnano d'Asolo, Italy

July 3, 2010, one night.

http://www.casapagnano.com/

After spending Thursday and Friday evenings at the nice B&B al Lauro in Lauro we had to clear out on Saturday morning and find new digs for Saturday night. The B&B had booked full beginning Saturday night, which they warned us about when we first spoke.

Linda and I decided to ride Monte Grappa on Saturday morning, after which we'd search for a new location for Saturday evening. It always sounds so easy when you're discussing it--it turned out to be another search full of dead-ends, scary looking places or, worse, no air conditioning.

Making matters worse was the fact that Linda and I couldn't shower after our ride--we toweled off as best we could, changed into some normal clothes, and drove around with tourist guides and the GPS. We were more comfortable than if we had remained in our riding clothes, but given how hot we'd gotten, how much we'd sweated, and how dirty we felt, it was a miserable few hours.

We looked at a few places close to Lauro that looked very nice from the outside. One was full. This was one that the owners of B&B Al Lauro had suggested. The owner there didn't speak English, but it sounded like he said he didn't have a room. That's what I assumed--we called from the parking lot.

The other place looked like it had just had a major renovation and looked very nice from the outside. We called to make sure that they had a room available and the English-speaking desk clerk said they did. We stopped by to take a look at the room, which was a little more pricey than we'd been paying or really wanted to pay, but we were getting desperate. This place, despite all it's nice features and attractive looks lacked one crucial requirement: air conditioning. We thanked the young woman and left.

I don't know, exactly, how many places we looked at, drove by, called, and disqualified but it was at least a half-day affair. We saw a lot of this little region. We could have given directions to almost anywhere in the vicinity after three days of riding our bikes and driving around this place.

Anyway, finally, we called a place in the guidebook, almost on a whim, and were rewarded with an English-speaking voice of the son of the innkeeper. We almost didn't call the place because we'd seen the address in the guidebook, found it via GPA, and it looked like a dump. It turns out that there are two addresses with the same number on the same street--one north of town, one south of town. I'm sure there was more to the logistics of this address issue, but that's how it seemed to us. Turns out the place we were interested in finding out about was up the road a bit.

I have to admit that when we first drove through the gate and saw the house we thought there'd be chickens in the kitchen and straw on the floor. It looked old and, well, used. It certainly was rustic, no matter how you viewed the exterior. The home had been around a while. The owner didn't speak any English, but her son was there to translate for us. The price was very reasonable and it had an air conditioner!!



Casa Pagnano had two rooms to let, we took the smaller of the two to save a few Euros and since we were going to be there for just one night. The room was plenty comfortable and nicely appointed. The owner had gone to some trouble to decorate with a rustic feel, I suppose what we'd call here country casual, or whatever it is. It looked rustic and had a very nice atmosphere about it--but everything was nice, i.e. it wasn't just a bunch of old junk lying around. And the AC!! It was just outside our room and there was a window along the top of the wall where it met the ceiling that could be opened to let the cool air in. It was wonderful.

Comfortable rooms, clean well-appointed bathroom en suite. An excellent deal for I thought it was 50 Euros, although I see the website says 60 for a double and 40 for a single. In any event, it was a good deal for an air conditioned, comfortable room.

Our AC unit, white, above the door. . . .

There was no covered parking, but no big deal. The house was a a hundred yards, or so, from the street behind an electric gate. Plenty safe.

The breakfast on Sunday morning was terrific. Linda said the coffee provided was the best she had during our trip. Plenty to choose from and the owner (wish I could remember her name!!) was anxious to make sure we had enough.

They had a nice German shepherd and a cool cat. Chickens were close by, but the rooster wasn't too close.

They had cable TV where we were able to catch some of the World Cup and, more impressively, the Italian TV carried, live, the Maratona dles Dolomites bicycle gran fondo. They take their cycling seriously in Italy. It was sooo cool to see.

Prcing: very good
Staff: we liked them a lot, just couldn't communicate much.
Food: Excellent--best coffee on the trip
Location: if you're there to visit Monte Grappa, Treviso, take the train to Venice from Castelfranco Veneto, etc., it's a very good place to be. Asolo's a nice town to visit and I'm quite sure there were quite a few places of interest that we just didn't figure out were there. The Gran Fondo Pinarello's run in July (that's gotta be miserable with the heat; I wonder why they don't run it in, like April or September). They do some time trials and other organized rides involving Monte Grappa, Monte Boldo's not far away. . . there's lot's of good riding if you carefully choose the time of year you're going.

No internet service.

Recommend? Sure! Don't judge it from the exterior's appearance, it's really quite nice inside. The owner's very nice. The log book of visitors consisted primarily of eastern Europeans and Italians. We were the only Americans (North, Central, or South!) to have visited.