Short version: Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me, happy birth–wait, what do you mean I have to bike up the Stelvio? Didn’t I already do that 2 days ago?
Long version: Up till this point, riding came first, and photos, souvenirs, etc came second. If the group was stopped, and I happened to think of it after taking care of all my biking needs (feed me!!!), I took some photos. But there are a lot of photos that didn’t happen. And there were a lot of souvenirs that were not shopped for (sorry, friends and family–no fun stuff for you…)
Today was different. Going up the Stelvio from the Bormio direction was on the schedule–and I had seen something on our descent two days prior that gave me an idea for a photo I wanted to make happen. And that made me think, if I was stopping for that photo, I might as well stop for other photos.
And it was my birthday–couldn’t I goof off, take breaks, and be generally lazy and louche on the bike–or as much as one can be when biking up the Stelvio after a week of difficult riding?
So up I started. And then I stopped.
I hopscotched a British guy for a while, riding past, then stopping to take photos, rinse, repeat. We had fun chatting, in agreement that this was a pretty crazy, and pretty crazy awesome thing to do.
Earlier on, one of the faster guys of our group went by, and kindly invited me on the extra-credit plan he and a couple others had cooked up: to descend down the other side to Prato allo Stelvio, then swing into Switzerland, and ascend the Stelvio via the Passo Umbrail, the third approach to the top of the Stelvio.
I considered, and while it would have been a cool adventure (and I’ve never been to Switzerland), I ended up declining. It would have been a day of pushing myself not to hold the fast guys back too much, and wringing the utmost out of myself. Maybe on a different day… But I was having fun with my birthday lollygagging plan, so Switzerland and the third approach to the Stelvio remain untouched by me.
Meanwhile, I took more pictures:
By this point in the trip, I was finding myself thinking thoughts like “hey, just 300 meters of climbing left to the pass–that’s nothing–I’m basically there already!” Of course, pre-trip some of my “tough” training hills gained around 300 meters… (Zoo Hill, Montreaux, Squak Mountain…)
Maybe that is just funny to me, but I cracked myself up with that observation several times.
At the top, I positively lingered, lollygagged, loitered, and lazed. (Side notes–why do so many time-wasting words start with “l”?) I’d start to think that maybe I was about ready to head down, when another person would show up, and why yes, now that you mention it, I would like to join you over an espresso.
I also was either incredibly foolhardy, or incredibly brave and used the bathroom at the rifugio. I went in with the full knowledge, from earlier experience, that the sink’s water was the most painfully searingly cold water I have ever encountered.
Eventually, the ones who were doing extra credit rolled on, and the remaining of us started to head towards departure. As they took care of last-minute things, I explained my photo plan to one of the guys, he agreed, and we got a head start on the descent.
- Andy used to race for the La Vie Claire team
- The La Vie Claire team had a Mondrian-inspired jersey that was considered one of the classiest in the peleton
- Andy Hampsten had a designer approach him and offer to design a La Vie Claire/Mondrian-inspired Hampsten jersey
- I bought one of these jerseys
- On the way down the Stelvio into Bormio two days before, I noticed a Mondrianesque-painted set of doors in the hillside
Today I had worn my Hampsten jersey, and my kind fellow cyclist proved to be an enthusiastic photographer too.
We had fun taking pictures, and then Elaine caught up to us with a few others, and we started down the rest of the mountain.
I was following Elaine’s wheel–though she has only been cycling since she met Andy several years ago, it’s obvious that she’s had someone good to model her riding on. She’s a strong rider, and like Andy, inspires confidence when following her down a descent. I was having a great time rolling down after her, admiring her smooth ease on the bike and good lines around the corners, when she stopped. We had apparently dropped the others, and being a responsible Team Cinghiale member, she waited up for them while I played my way down the mountain.
Playing really is the word, because that’s what it felt like. The road surface was great, I knew from the descent two days ago that there were no surprising tricks to the descent like off-camber corners, and I grinned and swooped my way down.
So yes, I had to bike up a really big mountain on my birthday, and at the top you’d have a hard time convincing me that it was summer (the phrase “just think, we could be in Hawaii” was pulled out on more than one occasion during the trip…), and yes, this was a pretty insane way to spend my time and money. To an extent, I agree with the people who heard about our trip plans and said “you’re crazy!”
But it was also one of the best birthdays I have had.
It was another short day: 27 miles and 5,100 feet of elevation. But seriously, when you’re calling climbing the Stelvio an easy short day, well… Something.