Sardinia 2009 (May 17-23)

Quattro Mori – Insignia of Sardegna

The present description can surely not be fully understood without reading all of the previous PMVC in Sardinia descriptions. See http://polish.slavic.pitt.edu/pmvc. Ride descriptions here borrow generously from Ruud’s blog at http://ruudvandijk.blogspot.com/ and benefit enormously from Steve’s pictures. The 2009 T-Shirt design (Steve’s as well) is here:

NEWS FLASH: DISCONSOLATE BANANA GIRL ELOPES, MOVES TO TRAMATZA

Well, what can you expect. Seeing Ruud only every other year or so from behind the cold-cuts and fruit counter at the Nona Isa store in San Vero Milis couldn’t keep her satisfied forever. Wedding picture not available. The replacement Banana Boy is just not the same. The cute girl at the cashier’s (also named Stefania) is still there, but for how long, Ruuuud?

The banana girl and the banana boy in better days.

We all hate change, especially in Sardinia, as reflected in the microcosm of San Vero Milis. In general, the Nona Isa store seemed to have gone downhill since last time, which has to be connected with the loss of the banana girl. No torrone to be seen anywhere the whole trip, here or elswhere. Also different this year was the fact that we weren’t the only guests at the Mulinu Betzu (Old Mill) Agriturismo. The first night a French couple was wrapping up their stay, and for the remainder of the week we ate dinner with a couple of pleasant Bologna lawyers, Cristina and Roberto, who spent the days frying themselves at various nearby beaches. Cristina in particular looked like one of the Quattro Mori before the week was up. PMVC awarded them T-shirts for their effort. Mauro (our host Daniela’s genial husband) also ate with us on several occasions, a welcome departure from past practice.

I think this was our only group photo, with Ruud as usual hamming it up after three mirtos. Cristina and Roberto are in the background.

The 2009 group consisted of Ruud, Michele, Steve, and Oscar. Oscar kept looking the whole time for a missing fifth person. We made the bad mistake of flying into Alghero instead of Cagliari. It’s about 45 minutes longer to San Vero Milis, and the airline lost Oscar’s bicycle for two whole days. Air One in Alghero seemed to think that it was anyone else’s problem but theirs. As a result, Oscar missed out on the Bosa-Alghero-Bosa ride (the ride that put him in the hospital last time). Intervention from Emily stateside helped locate the bike in Rome, and it was shipped the next day.

The Alghero airport seemed like a good idea until we actually tried it.

We stayed a day or so shorter than before, and so totalled only around 400 miles or so for the week, and 31,000 feet of vertical climbing. No new rides this year (we begged Michele for no more of his dream loops), and we ran out of time to do the most classic ride of all, Ghilarza (Eric’s ride, for those who are interested in history). Temperatures the whole time were in the mid 90s, ranging to 104 on the road, as verified by Steve’s multi-functional bike computer. The sun bore right through Oscar’s sunscreen (which, Ruud points out, was several years past its sell-by date; Ruud is a fanatic about sell-by dates, we found out). Steve’s Bullfrog gel seemed to work better. Fortunately it wasn’t humid, or we would all have died, one after the other. As it was, by setting our sites low (i.e., living to tell the story) we all had a successful trip.

A picture Oscar and Steve got used to: Ruud and Michele disappearing into the distance.

As to fitness, Ruud looked to be in near-perfect racing trim, with Michele just behind him, followed by Steve and Oscar, who were base-mile challenged, and wearing short-sleeved jerseys for almost the first time all year. They spent the first days getting used to the heat. They spent a lot of time protecting the rear of the peleton, although out of a spirit of self-preservation, Michele would often back off and stay behind with Steve and Oscar on the day’s first climbs.

Michele demonstrating how to look Italian.

Michele was much less forthcoming this year with Sardinian lore than previously (such as that it’s bad luck to spit at sheep), but he did impart some secrets of Italian cycling chic. True Italian cyclists, according to Michele, let everything stick out as much as possible: the farther the seat post sticks out of your seat tube, the better, and the same goes for the handlebar stem and, especially, the valve stem, which has to stick out at least an inch and a half beyond the inside of the rim. Saving and using the threaded valve grommet and, much less, the plastic valve cap, is an absolute no-no. If you follow these rules, and wear a jersey one size too small, you will look like a real Italian cyclist – which, of course, Michele always does.

With Dusty out of the picture this year (he sensibly went to yoga camp instead) there were no flats or other mechanicals. Oscar carried two spare sewups in his saddle bag all week for nothing.

Saturday (Steve). On Saturday afternoon, Steve assembled his bike and went for a ride to Putzu Idu, adding around 30 miles to his total. He ran into a veterans bicycle race along the way.

A view into the Mediterranean Sea from Monte Ferru.

Sunday₁ (Oscar). Monte Ferru-Paulilatino-Fordongianus. Without his bike and no sign of it, Oscar borrowed Mauro’s montain bike and went for his own ride up nearby Monte Ferru (Iron Mountain), to be turned back at the summit by a police road block on account of a car race coming up the other side. He rode back through Bonarcado – Paulilatino – Fordongianus – Sola Rusa – Tramatza for a [65 mile] very hot ride. By a miracle, a bar was open in Sola Rusa. An ice-cold Ichnusa tastes unbelievably good in heat like that. [65 miles, probably 4200 feet of climbing].

Birra Ichnusa, or simply Ichnusa, as everyone knows, is the name of the most popular Sardinian beer. It is brewed in Assemini, a town near the Sardinian capital Cagliari. It is named after the Latinized ancient name for Sardinia, Hyknusa. Disappointingly, Birra Ichnusa is owned by Heineken International.

Steve takes this same picture of the Bosa bridge every single year.

Sunday₂ (everyone else). Bosa-Villenova Monteleone-Alghero (Ruud’s ride descriptions here and, mostly, following). There are already too many German-speaking motorcyclists who enjoy the smooth, curvy and rolling roads of Sardinia. And on Sundays the locals come out on their crotch rockets to join the fun. Their noise, smell, and threatening mass can really ruin a good ride, but so far it's been manageable. On Sunday, between Alghero and Bosa, on one of the most beautiful stretches of road you can find on the island, it was the worst for the motorcyclists, but we still enjoyed the up-and-down along the Mediterranean. The way out, by way of Villenova Monteleone, had been as quiet and beautiful as always. The rains had stopped just hours before our arrival, and as a result the vegetation (wildflowers, all kinds of green stuff, tall prickly things) was particularly lush and fragrant all week.

Ruud and Michele eating too much pasta in Alghero.

Upon returning to Bosa, there was some talk of riding all the way back to base camp for a real century, but just one magic word, "gelato," left the opening-day distance at [68 miles, 6000 feet of climbing].

[Thanks to Michele's ability to connect with young local women and follow their advice, Michele found the best gelato place in Bosa and probably in all of Sardina (Michele and I went back there on the way to the airport on Saturday)- Ruud].

Dinner: wild asparagus, sausage plate, pasta. suckling pig. Here and with evey meal: olives, salad, crackly flatbread, house wine, limoncello, mirto, fruit (this year mostly oranges, one night medlars).

For the next ride, everyone graciously waited until Oscar’s bike was delivered by van from Alghero, ensuring that the day’s ride, through the high central mountain villages, would be bakingly and painfully hot.

Monday. Serule-Olzai-Teti-Tetiani-Tonara-Desulo-Fonni-Gavoi (the first of two Mountain Villages Rides). Two consecutive rides in the interior brought fewer motorcycles and several opportunities for nice, steady climbing. The climb to Teti (from Olzai) is a comfortable 5 kilometers, which I [Ruud] did mostly in the 19 [this comfortable 5km of climbing knocked me out for the rest of the day, thanks to Michele, who kept me at my limit the whole way up -O.S.].

Looking back at the lake after Ruud’s “comfortable” climb to Teti.

Climbs like that can make you feel you're quite a rider, but it would still be horrible to do it in a race. The longest climb of the week, through Desulo, runs for just about 14 kilometers, is steeper, and tends to take it out of you more, even if you ride just to get there. I used the 21 mostly, but needed to stand up quite a bit to keep it going. There's one more climb, through the town of Gavoi, but usually you'll have stopped for gelato in Fonni, so that's very doable. [70 miles, 6800 feet of climbing].

My cinghiale looked a lot like this one.

On the road up to the Arcu s' Tascusi pass outside Desulo, Oscar finally had his first encounter with the legendary Sardinian cinghiale (wild boar, generic picture above). It didn’t have tusks, was smaller than advertised, and ran hard to get out of the way and off the road.

Dinner: Antipasto of fried shrimp that look you in the eye, pasta with sausage, orata (sea bass). Steve hands out this year’s T-Shirt.

So many places, so little time.

Tuesday. Laconi-Gadoni-Seulo-Isili. More mountain villages, and the best descents of the week. It takes some driving to get to Laconi, at least if you're staying in the Oristano area, but it's worth it. There's a very smooth, easy climb of 4 kilometers or so half-way between Laconi and Gadoni, and a harder one (but still very nice and, as always, beautiful) on the other side of Gadoni to Seulo. In Gadoni, Michele chats at length with the proprietess of the food store, whose daughter is opening a sushi restaurant, so Michele says, which should be ready in time for our trip next year. We are looking forward to trying fish-flavored ice cream. Beyond Gadoni, riding in a delirium, Oscar passes Michele without seeing him, and without Michele’s seeing Oscar go by either, so of course Michele tells Ruud to go back and look for Oscar. Ruud figures things out, trns around, and catches up with Oscar who is abut to expire from lack of water.

Steve in Gadoni.

More climbing after what's probably the nicest downhill we know (toward Lago del Flummendosa) [the temperature rose from 89 at the top to 94 at the bottom – O.S.] and then the up-and-down grind, usually into the wind, back to Laconi, by way of Isili. [75 miles, 6087 feet of climbing].

Dinner: Maggot cheese (a Sardinian specialty and illegal under EU rules), pastry puffs, wild asparagus, fregola & sausage, lamb in a lemon and anchovy sauce (out of this world).

Winner of the 2009 Putzu Idu sprint (right), with runner-up on the left. You’d think they could have cleaned up their sign in two years.

Wednesday. Putzu Idu. At last a rest day, 40 miles on the flat marshes in the baking run, ending up in Putzu Idu. A last-second push by Ruud helps Oscar win the Putzu Idu sign (see above). Steve outsprints Michele for the San Vero Milis sign on the way back. Much time spent dozing, followed by watching the day’s stage of the Giro d’Italia being won by Mark Cavendish. Oscar, already with a bad-enough sunburn, opts out of the beach, which supposedly Michele single-handedly turned into a nudist beach. Unfortunately, Steve was caught without his camera. [40 mile, negligible climbing]

This 2007 picture has already gone into the folklore of Sardinia. It’s one of the first hits when you Google Putzu Idu. It launched Oscar’s career as one of Putzu Idu’s most famous film stars. See his appearance in the video “Putzu Idu is Burning” at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QdjOSgnu6uM .

Dinner: Anchovies and tomatoes on crackers, pasta with prawns, calamari, beer and corn crackers made by Cristina.

The seacoast on the Buggeru ride is spectacular from every vantage point.

Thursday. Guspini-Arbus-Buggeru-Nebida-Iglesias-Fluminimaggiore. The name Buggeru by itself inspires fear. A classic ride, the longest and with the most climbing, running from Guspini, through Arbus, toward Buggeru (and the most beautiful stretch of coast we know). During lunch in Buggeru, Ruud discovers to his horror that the carton of apple juice he had just drunk had passed the sell-by date. Amazingly, despite his dire predictionas, he does not die. The steepest climbing all week is between Buggeru and Nebida, and you can also break 50 miles an hour on certain downhills - if you really want to. Then, after turning inland again, you get to the ugliest stretch we know (four miles we just can't avoid) toward Iglesias. After that, it's beautiful again, with a long, winding climb and an equally long, winding downhill toward Fluminimaggiore. Steve and Oscar made a major mistake in bringing only one bottle of water each, as the temperature had reached the upper nineties in the meantime, and they arrive cotton-mouthed. There's more good climbing after Fluminimaggiore, then some miles of up-and-down, and then Arbus appears again, draped against the hill and pass that lead back to Guspini and multiple scoops of gelato [for Ruud, to be exact, seven]. [81 miles, 7900 feet of climbing].

The bicycles stopped for some gelato in Fluminimaggiore. Almost any bar one stops at in Sardinia, however remote the place, has a fantastic array of ice cream made on the premises.

Dinner: fava beans, cabbage & olives, squid stuffed with squid (delicious), pasta with botarga, spigola (a fish (sea bass?); see Steve’s picture).

This is what a spigola looks like. They taset exactly like orata. These here look fairly unhappy.

Friday. Monte Ferru. A perfect warm-up or cool-down ride runs gradually uphill from San Vero Milis, through Seneghe and Santu Lussurgiu up Monte Ferru, then down into Cuglieri, and if you're lucky there (we weren't that lucky this time), you have a tailwind on the ten downhill miles to Santa Caternia di Pittinuri. It was mid-90s again, and the last day, so after lunch in Cuglieri, we stopped for desert (four scoops) in Santa Caterina. Once again, Steve takes the San Vero Milis sprint sign, this time from Oscar. [50 miles, 4200 feet of climbing. It sure feels like more. Warm-down ride my foot –O.S.]

Picture toward the Mediterranean from the bar in Santa Caternia.

Dinner: Mulinu Betzu went all out for us on this last night. Mauro shares with us some of his stock of prize-winning Sardinian red wines. Strawberries, aged peccorino, fregola and artickokes, tomato salad, zucchini strips, cucumbers, stuffed artichokes, huge succulent beef steaks.

Week’s total (for Steve, slightly less for Oscar and Ruud, more for Michele, who arrived a day early and did the Mnte Ferru ride twice): around 410 miles, and 31,000 vertical feet of climing.

Saturday-Sunday. Homeward. The trip home for Oscar and Steve was uneventful, except for the bikes not arriving on the plane in Pittsburgh. They arrived and were delivered the next evening. Neither Oscar or Steve showed up for the Pittsburgh Sunday, although Oscar and Stephanie did an alternate flat ride and made the coffee shop, to be treated to a description of Stuart Ferguson’s breaking apart the ride by attempting to take the group to Bagdad through Aluminum City, his last gesture before returning to Tasmania.

Linguini with prawns anyone? Steve has a real future as a culinary art photographer, as can be better seen on the DVD he produced of the trip.

As a postscript, due to some kind of credit card fraud in Italy, Oscar’s debit card was cancelled without warning, and he ended up with no money and having to borrow from Steve, Michele and Ruud just to get home. Then Steve’s card was cancelled, and he too had to rely on Ruud’s generosity. Don’t know what to do next year: bring only cash?

Suggestion for next year’s T-Shirt design.