FANCYYOURSELFASACYCLIST?THISWILLTESTYOU
Fedaia, he confesses: “The pros hate this pass.”
While I’m constantly wiping sweat from my face, the 53-year-old looks enviably calm and relaxed. After a snack break courtesy of our support vehicles, we push on, confident in the knowledge that everything that goes up, must come down.
As soon as the road starts to descend, my Zipp carbon wheels spin into life, creating a wonderful whirring noise only punctuated by the sound of my jacket flapping in the breeze. As the speed builds up, quickly topping 60km/h, there is little time to look down at the steep, luscious green valley to my side, or to glance at the quaint, traditional mountain village with its beautiful church. Instead, I’m scanning the road surface for potholes and oncoming coaches, as I slow down to sweep around the 180-degree bend.
Following Poli is a lesson in the art of taking the perfect line, minimising the speed loss as we negotiate steep corners. But every day brings with it new challenges and awe-inducing sights. Our staging post is the wonderfully eccentric and luxurious La Perla hotel in the ski resort of Corvara. Fittingly, the wall of its Pinarello Lounge is decorated with classic racing bikes and a pennyfarthing belonging to Michil, the eldest of the three Costa brothers who own the hotel.
In the spa, our soigneurs – who are also expert masseurs – provide a daily cycling massage to knead away the lactic acid from our aching legs.
In the evening, we celebrate our own victories over the same mountain passes that have tested the skills and grinta (determination) of the greatest cyclists known to the sport.
In the morning, there is another chance to become my own personal king of the mountains – and I just can’t wait.