Lets go to Montalcino

Early in the morning we all head to the garage and gear up. After a few hours of posing with our bikes and getting some good promo shots, we mount up and head out. What a start. Its a bit nerve-wracking. I’m on the Ducati Scrambler 450, a right-hand shift and reverse-shift bike. There is a lot that can go wrong. At least we had a little warm-up last night.

Riding through San Marino we get to ride around where most can only walk. Residents only can go in here and not usually a group of people on motorcycles. We are quite the spectacle. Folks are loving seeing these 70s bikes ride around the castle and towers. Heading out of town we stop here and there to take in the sights. What incredible sights. The country is hilly and windy and green; as these fields feed the entire country. There are clouds that threaten to overflow but so far we have been lucky.

Lunch is at a tiny spot in the middle of nowhere. Its barely big enough to accommodate us. We are all freezing since spring has not quite sprung just yet. Fortunately, a heater warms the back area up and we take turns eating our panini in there. After an hour or so we head back out and on the road. Cold weather is following us despite wanting to chase the sun. As we head west its getting slightly warmer, but its not enough.

At last, we make it into the windy cobblestoned streets of Montalcino! What a delight. Its late and we are all tired, hungry, and frozen. Parking is down a very steep hill at the bottom of which there is a small stone building. We head down one by one and this is where muscle memory is the worst thing that can happen. The front brakes mean nothing at this grade of road and my bike is not slowing down. Nearing the building at the bottom I anxiously hit the shifter down, hoping to put it into 1st gear. This handily puts it into 2nd gear or maybe 3rd. Remembering the backwardness of this bike I panic and start to look for the rear brake with my left foot. Its hitting nothing. I can’t find it. I keep probing not taking my eyes off the building I’m about to hit. Finally, I feel something move! My foot is stuck to it. I turn to the right quickly and miss the flower pots in front of the building only slowing down with the front brakes as what I’ve hit with my left foot is the side stand. I lowered the side stand. I couldn’t find the brake at all and dangerously lowered the side stand. Luckily I had to turn right and not left. PHEW. File that away for next time I get on the bike. Remember where everything is. LEARN where everything is.

We order a few bottles of local wines in the basement of the hotel. We got in too late and there is no dinner service anymore. The view we have while having our wine is incredible. Out the giant windows are the rolling hills of Tuscany. Once everyone is settled and a glass of delicious wine each we head out to dinner. All 14 of us are packed into a restaurant and its tight.

Fabio, one of the owners of the tour company we are riding with orders bottles of delicious local wine. We are all happily eating gorgeous Italian food and having a merry celebration of life. At about 1130pm I turn in while the party is still going.

San Marino and we’re off!

I was off the flight to Milan, off the train to Rimini, and on my way to ride in Tuscany with the Ride 70s crew. Pietro’s wife picked me up at the train station in Rimini and brought me to the garage in San Marino first thing. What a delight! She is wonderful and engaging, apologizing for her bad English the whole time. She spoke excellent English. We arrive at the garage with a flourish and look around. It is well-curated to feel cozy and cool. Bikes from the 70s line the walls. Guzzi, Laverda, Ducati, of course… And also a Morini, Yamaha, and several Hondas. They are in beautiful shape. I am looking forward to our ride already.

San Marino is an autonomous region nestled in the central east region of Italy. The hope was to wander around the area and take some time to take in some sites. Turns out you can’t walk around San Marino. The sidewalks are sparse and the drivers are intense on twisty hilly streets.

Taking the bus up the hill to the castled old town was simple. The bus came every hour and no one spoke English. The locals were as helpful as possible though. Getting out at the top I wandered around for a few hours when a text came that everyone was at a restaurant eating lunch together! I jumped into the car and zipped down to meet them.

Walking in a bundle of nerves quickly dissipated when the friendly atmosphere enveloped me. Everyone was from somewhere else and they were all amazing. Athens, Abu Dhabi, London, Aberdeen, New York City, Napoli, Devon, Germany, Zurich, Oslo. What a cool crew. Could I hang? We had lunch and went to the garage. We looked around and got to know each other. It was so much fun. Everyone was interesting and interested.

We hung out and sorted the bikes we were going to ride for the week and then took a little ride to see the sun set from a hilltop. On that ride two people were on a bike together and coming down the hill the bike went down. I was the only one near them so I checked to make sure they were ok and then took off to let everyone know what happened. We waited for them to come down the hill and rode back.

That Guzzi had touchy front brakes, wiping out at the slightest touch. On the landing, one of the riders somehow got the elbow of the driver into her ribs breaking one or two. She was now out of the riding portion stuck in the van. At least she could still come with us. What a shame! When we were back all the bikes came in and we had a beautiful welcome dinner full of fancy food and local beer.

I met my roommate for the week and she was a delight. Looking forward to getting to knew her and everyone else much better.