Off-road in Leonardo da Vinci’s Backyard
Taking on the steep, technical singletrack not far from the region’s vineyards
Taking on the steep, technical singletrack not far from the region’s vineyards
While Italy loves its road racing – think Milan-san Remo, Giro d’italia and Il Lombardia – mountain biking also holds its own there. There’s the gruelling Iron Bike in Piedmont, World Cup’s at Val di Sole (also the location of last year’s world championships) and the Finale Ligure stop on Enduro World Series.
It’s the fat-tire riding that brings me to Italy’s Tuscany region, flowing with rolling hillsides, and rich with vineyards and olive groves. A couple singletracks off the beaten path and I’ll be tackling a steep mountainside’s technical features near Vinci, the town where, you guessed it, Leonardo da Vinci was born.
I first fly into Rome and take in this area’s historical sights for a couple days before hopping on a high-speed train to Florence, roughly 300 km north. My rented villa is located one hour south in San Gimignano: a walled, medieval town known for its tower houses and hilltop setting above Tuscany. The villa’s owner is in the midst of harvesting for wine. I hike through the rows of vines and sample the plump, sugar-filled grapes. Along with the white and red grapes they cultivate here, the olive groves also suspend heavy fruit from their branches. Soon the olives will be pressed into oil and served in local cafés and restaurants. Even with the idyllic features that surround my new abode, the bike calls. I am eager to hit the trails mapped out for a six-hour excursion.
Along with two riders from California, I plan to team up with a local guide who can show me a sweet network of trails. Gian Domenico Ortino of Tuscany
mtb Guide has promised a great trek past ancient villages, valleys, stone farmhouses and singletrack challenges through Montalbano Park. Since I am driving a rented Fiat and don’t mind braving the narrow roads of Italy’s countryside, we decide to rendez-vous in Empoli, about 30 km west of Florence. As I park near an underpass, I watch a group of cyclists breeze by, tackling the hilly terrain at a good pace. I follow Ortino’s vehicle, loaded with a mix of Cannondale and Specialized 29ers as we make our way north to a camping village called San Giusto. A collection of bikers are suiting up, some with full gear to tackle the steep descents. Others are more lightly equipped. Our group saddles up, clips in and starts the climb up a road that leads us to the head of the trails. After a couple of short, steep climbs, we hit a nice section of trail with extreme switchbacks. Some of us are off the bike and can’t quite make the sharp corners. I’m managing OK and, once used to the rented bike, find I’m manoeuvring the turns quite well. We are on a 7-km stretch of tight riding; our speed slowing to handle the turns. I learn that the locals build most of these
“I can’t find a horrible bottle of wine in this region.”
trails and this section entirely.
Up next, we hit a speedy descent, which is welcoming after the slow switchbacks and steep climbs it took us to get here. I have to rely heavily on my front brake as I hit some 80-degree descents, letting my back tire follow on its own without locking it up.
It is busy on the trails with runners as well as cyclists. I note a social friendliness between the groups. There’s only English in our little circle between me and my two American peers, but I hear riding jargon throughout the trails. I seem to understand the banter at certain features. I guess we cyclists have a language all our own.
We come to a clearing, pass a stone farmhouse and eventually look upon the town of Vinci. We’re atop a landscape that seems unchanged from da Vinci’s time.
We continue to cut our way through the steep mountainside. I keep my eyes looking forward most of the time to catch the technical features that come up fast. But, I take a moment to look around and realize just how sharp the angles are that we’re riding. Vineyards and olive groves are everywhere in the distance. The canopy of trees shelters us from the sun. The weather is perfect. This is the same region where Gino Bartali risked his life by smuggling documents in his bike in wartime Italy to save Jews.
The next day I return to San Gimignano for lunch. I find the Leonardo da Vinci
museum and stop at a café close by. I eat caprese salad with a house red; both tasting like nothing I’ve ever had back home. I can’t find a horrible bottle of wine in this region. A couple from Saskatchewan I befriend tell me that even the bottle they bought for roughly a dollar was good. On my drive back to the villa, I pass casas with vineyards for front gardens. From Rome to Tuscany, shops and kiosks sell just as many cycling jerseys and bike memorabilia as mini Colosseums and Leaning Towers of Pisa. To visit the Tuscany region is to fall in love with the hillsides and their culinary riches. But to cycle here is to get inside a quintessential and remarkable culture that holds a true respect for cycling and its place in history.