Day 14: Monday, 23 May 1983

Start: Hotel, San Giovanni Rotondo, Italy

End: Campground, Campomarino, Italy

I got up slowly and reviewed the plans I'd rehearsed in my mind overnight. I need to get my act together, especially now that I'm riding on my own. 

First off, I need to keep in mind that when octogenarian geezers -- or any other helpful locals -- tell me how much I should visit a particularly delightful locale, I need to remember they probably haven't done the trip on a bicycle, so their advice warrants further research. More than that, I need to set some personal rules. Do about 100 kilometers in the main direction each day; rest more often; eat better and make sure to keep a larger stash of snacks on board; sleep longer; make Sunday a day of rest or light travel; get a hotel room to recuperate once a week. Hey, Mike would be proud of me!

I left the hotel around 9:30 or 10:00 and it immediately began to rain.

Would not have been so bad, wrapped up in my Gore-Tex, but the route was down a steep, twisting road, much like the road I came up yesterday. I was definitely riding too fast for conditions, even passing a slow car that was holding me back. Not so bright. Going down and around the next curve way too fast, Bob slipped and we fell over at high speed, skidding and scraping across the wet pavement in the middle of the road. I untangled myself, jumped up, and pulled Bob out of the road before any cars could come around the curve.

As I stood on the shoulder in the downpour trying to assess damage to bike and self, the car I had just passed pulled over. Two elderly gentlemen climbed out and came over to make sure I was okay. Miraculously, no serious injuries or major bike damage. The two old guys patted my shoulders and one wagged a finger at me sagely and intoned "Piano, piano." Gently, I think he was telling me, ride gently. 

Good advice, and lesson learned.

They patted my shoulders again, patted Bob, and drove off in the rain. 

In addition to moderate road rash on arms and legs, my left ankle was completely flayed and raw and my butt painfully bruised. Fortunately, it was the cheek opposite the broken, sagging side of the saddle. As for Bob, the handlebar bag rack was bent out of shape and a brake lever scraped up and bent, but everything remained functional. The rain continued to pour down, but I remounted and continued to ride down the mountain. Piano, piano.

The rain refused to let up, but so did I. I stopped for lunch at a greasy joint where I was surrounded by a bunch of chattering urchins. I wasn't sure whether they were admiring my gear or trying to figure out how to make off with it. While I ate the rain came down even harder and the wind whipped up. Now it was blowing fiercely into my face, blinding me by completely soaking my glasses, so I took them off, which is never a good idea for someone as near-sighted as me. 

The next stretch was downhill, but for about ten kilometers the road was obliterated by deep mud and running water. I think this was a flash flood. Nobody else was around, and no cars were to be seen in any direction. Not sure they could have gotten through. As for me, it was impossible to ride through the muck, so I climbed off and pushed forward, practically crying, but no one could have seen my tears in the rain. Bob suffered huge amounts of mud caking wheels, gears, chain, and panniers. At least it made a soothing poltice over my raw ankle. I eventually reached a small town with a fountain in the central square. The sun came out and I scooped water out of the fountain with two hands and rinsed down Bob as best I could.

After that, the mud and flood were behind me, the sun shone, everything started drying out, and the landscape was incredibly beautiful with perfect quiet roads lined and shaded by arching trees. Easy hills and gorgeous views of the Italian countryside. Fields of grain alternating with quiet groves and vineyards. Like pictures from a book.

Amazing how much better cycling can be when the rain stops and the headwind dies down.

Reached the Campomarino campground on the coast around 5:30 or 6:00. Decent place. Almost completely empty. Had a good meal nearby. Greek food was great bicycling fuel, but Italian food proving even better.

Another taxing day. I'll sleep well.

Conditions 

Distance: 95 km 

Weather: Pouring rain and headwinds until late afternoon 

Road: Okay, except for the flood and mud 

Traffic: Light 

Terrain: Downhill, then rolling, then flat 

Mechanical: Saddle and toe clip still broken, rack and brake lever bent up 

Physical: Road rash and flayed ankle