"Più vecchi diventiamo, più veloci eravamo."

Sardinian Chronicle - May 15-23, 2004

The weather this year was outstanding, and early rains left the Sardinian countryside covered with wildflowers. Photo by Eric.

This was the fourth PMVC spring training camp in Sardinia, and the third spent at the azienda agroturistica "Mulinu Betzu" (Old Mill), run by the indefatigable Daniela Cubadda. The weather was beautiful, neither hot nor cold, and Sardinia continues to impress as a giant state park, with smooth open roads, considerate traffic, friendly people, and excellent food. Apparently it had been raining a lot in the weeks preceding, so the entire country was swathed in wildflowers (especially poppies and lilacs) and greenery.

Saturday, May 15. Steve, Vishal, Oscar, and Eric (whom the preceding three had met in London at Gatwick) arrived at the new, EU-supported (and very unsardinian) Cagliari airport at something like 4:00 in the afternoon, to find Michele and Ruud waiting for them at the gates.

Steve, Ruud, Eric, Michele, and Oscar at Cagliari airport. Photo by Vishal.

By a stroke a genius characteristic of him, Michele had arranged the rental of a huge Ford van with three rows of seats and enough room in back for six bikes in cases and all of the luggage.

Michele and van. Photo by Ruud.

We hastened to San Vero Milis and our destination at the azienda around 6:00 o'clock. This is the third time "we" (Michele, Steve, Eric, Oscar) have stayed here, but this time in Daniela's fancy new accommodations.

Above: Oscar, Steve, and Vishal resting on the veranda of the azienda (Photo by Ruud). Below: the front of the azienda (photo by Vishal).

After greeting our hosts, Daniela and her husband Mauro, and dog Picchi,

Oscar and Picchi. Photo by Ruud.

we hurriedly assembled our bikes for the traditional evening ride to Putzu Idu. This is the place on the western seacoast where Michele spent happy years of adolescence ogling girls. For us, the ride serves as a mechanical shakedown and a chance to establish the riding hierarchy for the coming week. Ruud demonstrated convincingly that he is in top summer racing shape - while the rest of us had to judge ourselves accordingly. Predictably, Michele's broken collar bone proved to be one more in a long string of ruses, past and present, perpetrated by him. Then there was the rest of us. Eric showed signs of life by legitimately taking the San Vero Milis sprint sign on the way back. [27 flat miles, at an average of 20 mph, the fastest average we would achieve for the next seven, very hilly, days. Some days we averaged little better than 13 mph.]

Ruud took the Putzu Idu sprint sign, but I had the last laugh, for I took the Putzu Idu sign back to Pittsburgh. Daniela had kindly saved it from the last trip, when we found it in the road one night and brought it home. It wouldn't fit in a bike case, so we had it cut to size by a window- and door-frame maker down the street from where we were staying.

Saturday Dinner. Vishal could not resist taking a picture of the table before we sat down for Antipasto:

In general, dinner consisted of antipasto, pasta, main course with green salad (which the modest Vishal always dressed), fruit and cheese, dessert, and aperitif/digestif. Antipasto consisted of at least: white bread and olive oil, crispy flatbread (my favorite), green and black olives, pickled onions, and a couple of specialties tacked on. The first night the specialties were prosciutto, artichoke hearts, and Daniela's own pork salami. The pasta course was cheese ravioli, followed by the main course of veal cutlets in an herb sauce. Fruit (apples and oranges) and hard sheep cheese followed, topped off by almond cookies and mirto (a myrtle-flavored liqueur, specialty of Sardinia, unknown to the rest of the world, imported into the Pennsylvania State Store system thanks solely to the PMVC). Steve breaks out his commemorative Sardinia 2004 T-shirts, featuring the new PMVC motto, "Piu vecchi diventiamo, piu veloci eravamo". 27 miles.

Daniela serves dinner. Photo by Ruud.

Sunday, May 16. Probably the most challenging ride of the trip, to be known henceforth as the "Buggeru" ride. We drive to Guspini and park in the plaza adjoining the church of the Lady of the Bottom Bracket, so named because of a photo from four years ago documenting Oscar's constantly loosening bottom-bracket problem, eventually solved with Italian Super Glue ("Atak"). From here it was straight up, over two passes to Arbus. Down and west to Buggeru and the seacoast, followed by some seriously steep uphill stretches to a lunch stop in a little town (during which Michele informs us that it is a mortal transgression in Sardinia to spit at sheep, which we took care not to for the rest of the trip), then over to Iglesias, at which point, on the fourth of six major passes of the day, yours truly was ready to cash it in. Fortunately Steve, Ruud, Eric, and Vishal stopped to visit an ancient Roman temple before the climb out of Flummine Maggiore, allowing Michele to nurse Oscar back to Arbus and Guspini ahead of the group. On a bench in the plaza waiting for the others, Michele and Oscar have a mathematical dispute about whether the same pass should count twice if you go over it from both directions. Of course it should; Michele stubbornly held otherwise.

Lunch on the Buggeru ride (I think). Photo by Vishal.

Culture vulture Steve takes in a Roman temple. Photo by Ruud.

This ride sets the tone for the week, which consisted mainly of hills and mountains. The descents in Sardinia are sheer pleasure to ride, with smooth surfaces and sweeping well-cambered turns. Ruud displayed impressive descending skills, which Steve attributed to his not having four children at home to orphan. 80 miles. [27+80=107].

Sunday Dinner. In addition to the regular antipasto, there was a delicious fish-and-tomato-sauce salad and an octopus sauce, with the little eight-tentacled creatures swimming around in the juice looking out at you. The pasta course consisted of fettucini with langustes (a kind of shrimp with long antennae), which, Michele objected, should be served with a durham-flour-based pasta, not with fettucini egg pasta, setting the basis for a tiff between Michele and Daniela for the rest of the week. The main course was wood-baked sea bass (orata), followed by cakes, fruit, and cheese. Oscar, as the true medlar admirer, was served medlars, which were not numerous this year because of the heavy spring rainfalls.

It should be noted that Oscar took home two medlar shoots last time. One immediately died of homesickness, but the other is doing fine and stands about three feet high, but still no fruit. Daniela's extended family was uncertain about whether medlars come in sexes, or whether a single one can produce fruit on its own. Only time will tell.

Monday, May 17. We started off the week with the by-now classic Bosa-Alghero-Bosa ride, probably the scenically most spectacular ride of the trip, if one could only take the chance to look at the scenery. The ride immediately climbs out of Bosa past an old castle up onto a vast scrub plateau that looks like the wild west, and rolls interminably over intermediate-level hills to a lunch stop at Villa Nova Monteleone. In Villa Nova, as usually on our rides, we barely make it to a food store before 1:00, when all stores close until around 5:00.

Breaking out the pear juice in Villa Nova Monteleone. Photo by Ruud.

This was Oscar's best ride of the week, since, after successfully begging them to slow down, he was able to stay with Ruud and Michele from Bosa over to Villa Nova. The descent to Alghero, a former Spanish/Moorish town on the coast, is spectacular. We stopped for coffee at the cafe where Doug Williamson lost his pump two years ago, but to our disappointment it was no longer on the table where Doug had left it. Everything else about this café was the same as before, including the toilets that didn't flush. The ride from Alghero to Bosa, along the seacoast and over the mountains, is a rugged classic, overlooking long stretches of sheer drop-offs to the rocks and sea below. Order of finish to the food store in Bosa: Ruud, Michele, Oscar, Steve-and-Vishal, Eric. Steve and Ruud bravely decided to ride back to San Vero from Bosa, so they get to add an extra 35 miles to any cumulative distances cited. 69 miles. [69+107=176 miles]

Michele and Oscar drink Gah-tor-A-deh in Bosa. Ruud and Steve have gone on to San Vero. Photo by Ruud.

Vishal is lost in contemplation at the stop in Alghero. Photo by Eric.

Vishal took this picture somewhere on the Bosa ride.

Monday Dinner. For antipasto, in addition to the usual, wild asparagus, peas with ham. Pasta is spaghetti and tomato sauce. Main course is lamb cooked in herbs with french fries. Dessert: fruit, cake, and fennel liqueur.

Tuesday, May 18. One of three rides in the Barbagia (the wild mountainous central part of the island, populated by wild boar and bandits, although we saw none of either). These rides consist of 6-10 km climbs up to, and down from, various officially designated "mountain villages," whose names sound as though they could be from Mars: Sarule, Teti, Tonara, Desulo, Fonni, Gavoi, Sarule. The beautiful weather continues. The traditional sheep dog before Teti chases Eric only desultorily. Steve feels yesterday's extra 35 miles. Over the pass out of Desulo, Michele promises Ruud his home and, later, his wife, not to drop him. Riders finish over the pass in this order: Ruud, Michele, Eric, Oscar, Vishal, Steve. The by-now traditional stop in Fonni (the highest of the mountain villages) for a coke and ice-cream. The pretty girl at the counter of the last two trips, admirer of Michele, was missing; so much for Sardinian faithfulness. 70 miles (seems like more). [70+176=246 miles].

Eric always feels good over the S'Arcitu pass. Photo by him.

Tuesday Dinner. In addition to the usual: prosciutto, sliced braised eggplant, eggplant chutney. Pasta: white lasagna with cheese. Main course: roast pork with pork sausage. Ice cream with dessert.

Wednesday, May 19. Designated a rest day, the group changed money in the San Vero Bank, causing a major local commotion and drain on town funds.

Bank about to be depleted in San Vero Milis. Photo by Ruud.

This was also market day in San Vero. Steve bought a cowboy hat. In the afternoon, Michele naps while the rest do the classic Monteferru ride, through Senneghe over to Cuglieri, past the knife factory in Santulusurghiu. In Cuglieri, Eric and Ruud decide to backtrack the ride and climb the mountain again, from the front side this time, while Steve, Vishal, and Oscar take the swooping downhill wind-aided ride down the coast, joined at one point by a very enthusiastic rider on a hybrid. A rest at Torre del Pozzo to drink cokes and stare at the sea. All five of us arrive back home at about the same time. 50 miles [50+246=296 miles].

Wednesday Dinner. In addition to the regular: huge gobs of little sea conches (boconi), whose insides are extracted in two stages with a toothpick: pasta: spaghetti with botarga (dried fish roe), Michele's recipe. Main course: orato (sea bass). For dessert Daniela served seradas, a very heavy cheese, honey, and pastry dessert that knocks anyone out for further combat. Mirto and fruit also, of course.

Thursday, May 20. More mountain villages: Laconi, Aritzo, Gadoni, Seulo, Sadali, Serri, Isili, Nuralao, back to Laconi; a really great ride, and a new one for us. The last 15 miles were unexpectedly rolling, fast, and aided by a tailwind, during which Ruud rolled everyone off, one by one. Eric was absent, having gone to Putzu Idu and Torre Grande to watch the Giro in a bar, and topless girls on the beach. Upon their return, Michele and Oscar take the Putzu Idu sign to a local window-frame maker for cutting down to bike-case size. 72 miles. [72+296=368 miles].

This picture is one of the few documenting that Ruud was actually on this trip. Photo by Vishal.

Thursday Dinner. With the antipasto, more sea conches, and baby octopus in red sauce. Pasta: barley with baby clams. Main course: tender fried octopus; they are so cute. Ice cream with fruit and dessert. The group decides to go to "downtown" San Vero and visit the bar where nobody knows your name, which they have been afraid to enter for the first two visits to San Vero. Steve and Oscar order vodka, Ruud fatefully (fatally?) orders mirto, Vishal and Michele stay outside.

Friday, May 21. After yesterday's ride, everyone is bleary-eyed at breakfast. Ruud has a toothache and a mirto hangover (from mixing two different kinds of mirto together, a definite no-no). The experience prompts Ruud to cancel his mirto order with Daniela. Eric has already left at 6:00 a.m. for the airport and climes and climbs in Pittsburgh. He simply had to lead the Sunday ride from the bike shop, and refused to let Sardinia stand in his way. Ruud stays in bed while the rest attack the classic mountain village ride of all times, Ghilarza. The banana girl at the grocery store in San Vero is distraught at not seeing Ruud for the early-morning banana pickup. The weather is chilly, and it lightly sprinkles in the middle of the ride, but the sun comes out at the end. The names of the villages visited are sheer poetry: Ghilarza, Ardauli, Neonelli, Sorgonno (lunch), Tonara, Belvi, Atzara, Neonelli, Ardauli, Ghilarza. 78 miles [78+368=446 miles].

Friday Dinner. In addition to the usual, pigs ears (we're not sure what these really are, possibly some kind of mushroom), cauliflower in a red sauce, a wonderful plate of pork liver in gravy; prosciutto, and pork sausage. Pasta shells and bits of wild boar. Main course: Roast suckling pig. We all eat too much. For dessert: medlars, mirto, ice cream.

Saturday, May 22. A flat ride to Tharros (ancient Phoenician city on the seacoast, the lizard capital of Sardinia), back through Cabras (a dusty town near San Vero, the botarga capital of Sardinia). On return Michele gives Oscar his beautiful bad-luck collar-bone Santini bike jacket, which he will always treasure. Ruud drives Michele to the airport. Steve, Vishal, and Oscar lunch at the Papillon bar in San Vero and watch the Spanish (or was it the Danish?) crown prince get married to an Australian (or was it Austrian?) commoner. Finally we have the chance to try the Dutch specialty of french fries and mayonnaise, along with genrous quantities of Ichnusa beer.

Ichnusa is our beer. Check out

http://www.birraichnusa.it/download/ichnusa.mpg

On Saturday afternoon, Vishal pretends to nurse a sore knee at the azienda while Steve and Oscar go for a book-end ride to Putzu Idu, putting Oscar over the 500-mile mark for the week. Steve has 545, for the most miles ridden during the eight days. 27 miles [481+27=508]. I neglected to write down the final dinner, but I think it was veal.

Clouds behind a nuraghe suggest the omnipresent Sardinian brew. Photo by Eric.

Sunday, May 23. Back in Pittsburgh, Eric leads the Sunday ride (no picture available). Ruud drives us to the airport for an early flight to Rome, where we say good-bye to Ruud, who takes a flight to Chicago. Ruud's trip ends up lasting 28 hours. Steve, Vishal, and Oscar fly to Philadelphia, clear customs, and each lose one bag or another on the USAir flight from Philadelphia to Pittsburgh, where each goes his separate way. The bags and bikes show up two days later. In the aftermath, Michele writes to say that he has lost his sentimentally valuable pair of PMVC bib shorts. Providentially, Vishal had spotted them hanging out to dry where Michele had carelessly left them, and Oscar packed them and brought them back together with the Putzu Idu sign. Both are now on permanent display in the PMVC museum.

This Sardinian farewell photo was taken by Eric on his way to the airport. In the distance are the mountains of the "Buggeru" ride.

Text by O.S.

Postscript. There were no mechanicals or even flat tires on the entire trip, not counting Vishal's breaking his valve while pumping up his tire one morning, and a broken spoke courtesy of Oscar. The only fall was on the Buggeru ride, when Vishal went down while trying to tear off a small chunk of torrone while holding onto his handlebars. Remember not to do this.