TRAVEL: Cycling for joy during Italy’s grand tour
Seeing the Giro d’italia up close was more than a goal. It was a way back to happiness
Even if I hadn’t ridden my bike 191 miles on roads that climbed 23,850 vertical feet in the past four days, my quads would have found the flight of steps up to the podium of the Giro d’italia — the Tour of Italy — steep. Still in my cleated cycling shoes, which are ideal for riding but not the best for walking, I ascend the galvanized steel treads carefully, using both handrails.
Along with the Tour de France and the Vuelta a España (Tour of Spain), the Giro d’italia is one of professional cycling’s three Grand Tours. Unlike equivalents in other sports, watching the Giro in person is free, and amateur enthusiasts can test themselves against the same terrain as the pros.
At the Giro, you can even ride the same route the same day as the pros. But starting well before or after them.
Bike riding in the Italian Alps and the Dolomites has been on my bucket list since I honeymooned in the area a decade ago. At the time, I was just starting to get seriously into cycling, but wasn’t yet so serious that I knew these mountains had some of the most challenging and beautiful riding in the world.
Attending several stages of the Giro has also been on my bucket list — since I saw, while watching the 15th stage on television in 2011, three generations of a family standing in the rain on the roof of their RV, which was parked in a field of wildflowers. The Tour de France is the more famous race, but because of this family (and their cowbells), I thought the Giro would be more approachable.
Last May, I went to the Giro in an attempt to get back my biking mojo — really, my mojo in general. Last winter and spring, after I had technically beaten a serious illness, I felt decidedly non-victorious. Whole parts of me — particularly my confidence, self-motivation and joyfulness — were, on good days, hard to find.
Biking had made me feel exuberant and confident. I’d keep taking my antidepressants and seeing my therapist but, I figured, why not see if biking could help bring me back too?
I signed on with a guided trip from Trek Travel, an arm of bike manufacturer Trek that friends had traveled with numerous times and raved about.
The company offers an annual itinerary built around several of the race’s mountain stages. The seven-day trip includes guides, lodging, luggage transfers, most meals, support along every day’s route and a highish-end road bike.
There were extras on Trek’s Giro trip this year: At the end of Stage 17, we were allowed to ride across the finish line and stand on the podium.
While the 213 professional riders in the 100th Giro d’italia would ride 2,242.6 miles in 21 stages in 24 days, the Trek Travel itinerary offers six rides totaling 306 miles (that include parts of stages 16, 17 and 18). You can ride as much of each route as you want. If you aren’t riding your bike, you can ride in the support van or explore town.
We set out on our first ride within an hour of settling into our hotel in Bormio and meeting guides. Quickly scanning the day’s route sheet with a map, directions and stats including distance, average grade and vertical ascent and descent, I read that it had about 900 feet of climbing over 11 miles. Easy.
But I read the sheet wrong: It is 900 meters of climbing to Passo Torri di Fraele, not 900 feet. When I round what I think is the last switchback only to have the true summit reveal itself 1,500 feet above me, the little confidence I woke up with that morning dies. But distracted by chatting with two fellow cyclists, I pedal on.
Descending, the exhilaration makes me joyous in a way I haven’t been in years.
The next day is Passo di Mortirolo, which Lance Armstrong once said was the hardest climb he’d ever done. Since I’m not on performance-enhancing drugs, my speed dips several times to just more than 4 mph, about the same speed as I can hike uphill. At the top, I lie down in a field of grass and, for 10 minutes, sleep the sleep of the supremely self-satisfied. This climb was the most difficult physical thing I had done since I had been declared well.
Day 3 brings the 9,045foot-tall Passo dello Stelvio, the highest paved road in the Eastern Alps, which is closed to cars that day because of the race. We ride up about five hours before the Giro pros do with thousands of other cyclists. Several cyclists haul full kegs of beer. Parents and grandparents pull kids in makeshift trailers.
They join the fans that had driven up in their RVS and camped alongside the road the night before. Spaces not occupied by RVS are crowded with air dancers and other inflatables advertising local companies. I ride around several sets of fans using mini rollers to paint words of encouragement and the names of their favorite riders on the road. The collective euphoria is off the charts.
Finally, the next day, I pull myself up the steep steps onto the stage and get the goose bumps I had hoped for when I booked this trip. Our VIP access doesn’t end with the stage, though. I step up onto the top level of the podium and officially reclaim my mojo.