Now, where was I?

Life as a soignie often seems a little like this, where am I? Having spent 6 weeks in Europe now, I am still looking forward to my first day off. That’s not to say that every day has been flat stick, although some certainly have been, but there has always been something on my agenda. I am yet to experience that joy of a lazy Sunday. Anyway, moving right along, I thought I’d go back to where I left off.

After getting home from the trip through Flanders with the 3 Nation’s Cup races, I got home, did some laundry, had a sleep and headed off for a 5 hour drive to Follonica for the Giro del Toscana (Tour of Tuscany). I didn’t know much about Tuscany apart from the Medici family were from these parts. I still can’t tell you much more than that now. However, it is home to Chianti (as in the wine) and the Strada Bianca (white roads, ala the gravel sections that get put in the Giro these days) and it is beautiful.

I spent a fair amount of my time driving through the countryside to feed zones, starts, finishes and hotels, all the usual and I can tell you the cyclotourist in me was salivating. If you’re thinking about it, do it. San Baronto was where the AIS used to have a training base back in the day, I was lucky enough to feed from the top of the hill and it was cool. Great coffee, good people, awesome views, what more could a soignie ask for?

Not every day goes smoothly, not matter how well planned. The planning was all good, I even left before the start of the race to make sure I had plenty of time to get to the feed, however, the truck accident (not mine) kind of messed with my schedule. I had a window of where the DS wanted me to feed from and I knew it was going to be a little tight to get set up on time. I had planned on following the race route, but after sitting in the traffic jam caused by the truck accident, which was cleared by the time the race started, the riders were not far from my back wheels, so I hit the motorway to get ahead. Onto the smaller roads and through some magic countryside, I hit the area where I was to feed from. There was a decent little climb that was maybe a little early to feed from, so I thought I would head to the next climb and feed from there. Of course, I keep driving and driving with nothing ahead showing much potential for a feed spot. So I turn around to headback to my plan B and the DS calls me, they were about 6-7km away. Shit, there was no way I was making it back to the hill I had scoped before, so I stopped on this gradual little incline where the boys could see the van and me ok. Not long after, the bunch came flying through, and the first rider to spot me dropped the musette, so there I am with 2 bottles rolling around my feet, I bend down to get them out of my way and the bunches way when I look up to see another one of the boys veer out of the bunch towards me, realize that he wasn’t going to get a feed, yell “F@$K” and hook back into the peloton.

Then the boss rolls through with the car and I could see the DS and the mechanic both thinking “That’s not such a great place to feed”.

I'm in a meeting.

The next day though, I nailed the feed. Great little spot, and when it goes smoothly it all seems so simple. The last stage of the tour had the sections of Strada Bianca and for a grouchy old single speed mtber, I thought this was uber cool. I had a great chat to a local journo about some of the history of the area, how the locals moved away to chase work in the cities, and with the recognition of some of the great attributes of the local area moved back to set up small businesses and encourage tourism and local trade.

I probably should also mention that we ended up with only 2 finishers for the tour. For the boys, it was a tough race, especially the first day when all 5 went down in a bunch crash 3.1km from the finish and no bunch time, so we were 2 min 40 down after the first stage. For those that don’t follow cycling, if there is a crash within 3km of the finish, all riders are awarded the same time as the bunch, which is quite important in a tour race.