Pounds of Prosciutto

Going into my second annual Gara Mountain Bike San Clemente I had two main objectives: To win the Grand Prize, and to beat Filippo, or DA (Dumb Ass), as I will be referring to him from now on. Lucky for me, neither of these was too hard to meet.

Before I tell you about the race I must introduce you to the bike I rode. We call her Lupi, actually her original owner�s name, from way back in the day before she became a rental bike. I borrowed her last year for a couple of races and when I arrived this year mi stava aspettando (she was awaiting my return). Marco, my friend and owner of the bike shop was proud to tell me that he used her all winter to ride in the snow, and when we pulled her off the rack for me to ride those miles showed. As I was cleaning the drive train I attempted to pedal backwards and the cranks would hardly move. I�m no mechanic but I would say that the bottom bracket was seized up. I asked Guido (my good friend and other mechanic at the shop) to take a look. He told me that they had had the same problem this winter but they couldn�t get the BB out. To solve the issue he laid the bike on the ground and poured some citra-solve type liquid into that area and told me she just needed to rest for a while then she�d be OK. Sure enough, 10 minutes later there was just a little bit of crunch left- I guess the rest did her well. The next issue to deal with was her size. Marco had changed the fork and consequently she grew about 2 inches since last year. So much for my rule about not riding bikes I can�t stand over. When Lupi is parked next to my road bike, her top tube is even with my road bike�s handlebars! Besides that, the new fork was awful- all mushy and no way to lock it out (so used to riding my �cross bike- I really dislike suspension, I feel like it sucks all of the energy out of me). Anyway, we all know that beggars can�t be choosers so without complaining too much more I took the bike. Luckily everything else ran pretty smoothly and after a couple of test rides I was ready to race.

The race was not just a race, it was a part of San Clemente�s yearly festival, La Sagra della Ribollita. As its name implies, the main focus of the festival is ribollita, translated literally: reboiled. Ribollita is a special type of soup made with bread, beans, and black cabbage. It is called ribollita because it is boiled once, then boiled again until it has a thick consistency. Apparently this tiny town takes great pride in their ribollita and we were there to celebrate it with a bike race.

The course was a short lap (about 7 kilometers) that we did 4 times. Well, some people did it four times, I was very fortunate to get lapped by the leader just at the end of my 2nd lap (yes, he was going THAT much faster than I, yikes) so I only did 3. That was just fine with me. Remember, I am in Italy and it is mid-July. The race started at 3:30 p.m. Needless to say, it was HOT.

We started out with a long asphalt climb where I quickly rode away from the only other woman racing. Then we got into loose fire road, granny gear climb for me, but DA and others around me had to walk it. Next was a loose fire road descent followed by a twisty ride through cobbled streets and back to the fire road climb. On the first climb I passed DA and didn�t see him again until I was going into my final lap. At that point he was the side of the road near the finish area. �Non c�e la fai?� I asked him- what, you can�t make it? He yelled something not too nice in reply and I continued on. Afterwards he said that mountain biking is just too hard. Well, it does require thinking and planning, things that DA does not seem to know how to do.

In a bad mood, DA left right after the race (notice I did not ride there with him, I preferred to do the hour+ drive alone- my chances of arriving alive were much greater that way) and Guido and I did a quick cool down then prepared for the festa. One of my favorite parts of the day was checking out the post race scene. At this race there were no public showers, so instead people brought their own solar showers and washed up by their cars. The highlight for me, though, was that almost everyone there (even Guido) brought his accappatoio (hooded terry cloth bathrobe). All of these �tough� mountain biker guys hanging around in the parking lot in their bathrobes- pretty funny.

We headed down to the awards ceremony just in time for me to hear �prima classificata nella categoria donna, Ilari Daniels.� I walked up to the announcer, hoping, hoping that I was going to be given the Grand Prize. Sure enough, much to my delight he handed me a shoulder. A 10 pound cured pig�s shoulder. Prosciutto. My favorite.

After the awards we hung out and watched the town prepare for the Ribollita feast. Where we were just racing our bikes turned into a large dining area. Some of the bike racers stayed but mostly the party consisted of families there to celebrate their town�s big day. We ordered our food and we were quickly served. Ribollita for me as a primo then Cinghiale (wild boar) for secondo. Wintertime food in the middle of summer but after a bike race anything goes. Plus, you have to have ribollita at the Sagra della Ribollita!

Happy and full with my Grand Prize in tow I headed home. Now I just have to figure out what I�m going to do with 10 pounds of prosciutto.

Coming up: Nighttime mountain bike race next Friday then Saturday and Sunday I�m heading up to Northern Italy to watch the European Track Championships.

-Hillary

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