Day 3 Across Italy on a Bike

The route for Day 3 was Norcia to Visso.

Norcia is a small town in the region of Umbria, and Visso is a small town in the region of Marche.

The landscape is all sweeping valleys, fields and olive groves, steep gorges, and rushing rivers. These are lovely features of the region to observe from a bicycle.

And it is all dominated by mountains. This area is the heart of the Sibylline Mountains, I Sibillini, a section of the soaring Apennine range named after truth-telling Sibyls.

And I’d like to tell you truthfully that we had to go up a flippin’ honkin’ big mountain to get from Norcia to Visso.

The climb started right on the back doorstep of Norcia. We left our lovely little apartment, wheeled the bikes through one of the massive ancient gates of the Norcia town walls, and the road immediately began to go up.

Departing Norcia through an ancient gate:

Kindly note, over on the left, the mountain in the background of Norcia. On the right is our exit gate.

Carlo and Giulia, both fit and super athletic, cruised smoothly off into the heights, disappearing around a bend. (I would not see them again till I reached Visso, but this has more to do with their propensity for stopping at bars along the way for snacks than my complete lassitude as a cyclist.)

But back to the start of the ride. I climbed.

Today’s Forecast:

Cloudy with a considerable chance of Up.

The entire Day 3 route was about 20 miles long, with some 2682 feet of elevation, much of which was packed into the first 6 km, or 3.72 miles.

A steep start of Sibylline escalation.

Some successive soaring cycling ascent.

There really was nothing to do but climb.

Carlo, long-since disappeared up the mountain, had sent me a really helpful text message: “Enjoy the view!”

This was very good practical advice, and it pointed towards a most apt mindset. A marvelous view did unfold, changing at each new height, around each sharp bend, beyond each stand of trees. There was so much to take in.

There are entire fields of wildflowers blooming here now!

While I was riding, Carlo sent a beautiful panoramic video of one of the incredible vistas, which was highly motivating, as I knew that in only a few short hours of continuous upwards pedaling, I’d have the chance to experience this exact view in person:

So although I was working hard to pedal up a mountain on a bike carrying 2 loaded panniers of stuff, I did genuinely enjoy myself.

It is possible to embrace the paradox of blissing out in moments of incredible exertion, and I think this is why some of us are drawn to endurance sports.

We may have neither speed nor strength, but we endure well.

Back in my early 50s, I took up half-marathons so I could jog a few events in memory of Madeleine Hershey, a beloved friend mourned by several of my current blog readers. And it was in that period that I developed an actual method for completing endurance events.

I call it: The Keep Going Method.

You just Keep Going.

And eventually, you have completed your event. I have found this method over time to be 100% effective.

(I now have to share one of the most confounding moments of my short half-marathon career, which occurred in the women’s changing tent at the end of an event, where you get to sit down a bit and dry off and change clothes after completing the 13.1-mile course, before heading to the after-event lunch.

I was just doing the sitting part. The other women were discussing where they had each been at the event start line. I announced that I’d begun the race way at the back of the line, with all the men in bathrobes smoking cigars.

Total silence from all the women in the tent.

Not a giggle. I was in disbelief. That was a really funny line!

Finally, one of the women spoke: “There were men in bathrobes smoking cigars?”

“Joke!” I said. “I was joking!”

But it did make me seriously wonder if some distance runners might completely lack a sense of humor. Because bike riders are reliably always a ton of fun, even after a grueling event.)

Back on my climb, I stopped here and there to drink water, take pictures, swallow a disgusting sports energy snack gel, and stand in awe of the beauty of nature. Then I pedaled some more towards the top. At a few sections I walked a bit and shook out my legs before starting to ride again.

And I was pedaling my bike when that “6 KM” sign at the summit finally came into view.

I would just like to note here that it is entirely possible that I have never before in my entire life used the word “summit” in a sentence that has anything to do with me.

Then came a wonderful stretch of what I like to call The Blessed Downhill!

Eventually, after a bunch more miles, some rain, and another climb, I reached Visso, had some hot tea and a pastry at a bar, and rendez-voused with Carlo and Giulia when they had arrived and settled in at a restaurant.

Because truthfully, we mountain-climbing endurance bike riders have some flippin’ honkin’ big appetites. And, no, you absolutely cannot share my ravioli.