99 YEARS OF FAUSTO

99 years ago today, in a tiny village called Castellania above Novi Ligure, Fausto Coppi, the second Campionissimo, was born (the first being my hero, Girardengo, born just down the hill in Novi some 26 years earlier).

I was lucky enough to make a pilgrimage there in 2012. You begin to sense the history on the long road up the hill towards the town in the middle of (or on top of) nowhere. Around twisty bends, 100-year-old buildings are covered in mega posters of their champion.

I was able to talk my way into his childhood home, normally a museum and closed for most of the year and certainly on a January evening. A modest donation to the caretaker and the guided tour was on by a cousin of the great Coppi! Honestly, I think everyone in town claims to be a close relative. Why not?

The great Italian sports writer (and much more than that) Gianni Brera described Fausto Coppi:

“The bicycle is his the other half. He forgets about his looks, with his breastbone that could be stolen from a chicken, his short neck, his shoulders practically attached to his face, and his two feet that look like seal fins. The bike becomes a part of himself and his lopsided bones.”

Not what you would expect from someone who would become the most important sporting icon in Italy and the cultural symbol of a postwar nation trying to enter the modern age. He seemed fragile, but unbeatable on a bike. The kind of thing that every scrawny kid imagines when turning his pedals in anger...

Fausto and Serse's final resting place.

Fausto's childhood bedroom.

Serse's room.

Local shops still post his photo in the window.

Guide to monuments around Italy dedicated to Coppi.

To the left of il Gira, Coppi's wall at the Museo dei Campionissimi in Novi Ligure.

MY 2016 L'EROICA!

Well, that's that. The 140 course is just long enough to be painful and worth the effort and just short enough to allow me time to get back to the market and make some last-minute deals with new friends. More on that later...


I set a 3:00 alarm to ensure I woke up with enough time to eat, dress and make the hour-long drive to Gaiole. It didn't matter... I was up at 2:00 and even had time to shower, pack up and depart early. I'm glad I did. It rained all night where I was staying. It rained hard on the drive over, which may be some of the most treacherous roads in all of Italy. Not one meter is straight, loads of blind curves and when you add in the rain and fog... I couldn't see anything. I won't say where I stayed, only because it  is hidden, almost unknown (at least to my French navi-system!) and may be the most perfect place in all of Tuscany.

Anyhow... 5:00 start went as usual, and that is to say the atmosphere was ELECTRIC in the square in Gaiole.

As you can see, I'm awake, dry and full of energy and optimism! As is usual, that would soon change, as it started to rain fairly hard on the way to Siena. It didn't last long, but was enough to turn that long sleeve wool jersey into an anchor, and eventually would take the pig fat I rubbed on that saddle two years ago (yes, you read right) and make what looks like either an unfortunate gastro accident or an external black chamois on the backside of my pants! I guess the cycling pioneers didn't care as much about appearances and just went on with their business, as I did!

As for the ride, I did my usual spinning along the flats, pushing hard downhill enough to pass all those silly 80's bikes with gears, straining up the climbs as far as possible before dismounting and walking the rest of the way. All that means my average speed isn't at all anything to brag about but when you consider the number of single speed, 30 pound bikes that were to be found out of the 7000 entrants, you start to get the idea that I was a bit of a unicorn - at least as far as blond, fluent Americans on 100-year-old bikes goes. There are now l'Eroica's to be found all over the world and for me, this is still the greatest day you can have on a bike.

I rode a decent stretch with Cristian, who organizes a three-day vintage Milan-San Remo, which is now on my list of must-do's!

Ribollita at the Asciano ristoro, where we added a few unaccounted for km's. I also had a nice confrontation with a young gal in a car who really couldn't understand why all these cyclists had the nerve to slow down her day!

These gals are either saying how much of a hero I am on that old bike, or "Look at that black mark on his ass!" I'm guessing the latter. BTW, this is how you fix poorly-made replica pedals that have been smashed by standing on them so hard.

The sight of Cypress trees takes me back here...

Evidently, I fell asleep for ten minutes at Castelnuovo Berardenga again. This is where I absolutely die every time, only to rise up Lazarus-style and finish strong.

Oddly, the most exciting part about this l'Eroica for me was that in doing the 140, I had time to come back and negotiate the trade of the century. I just may be bringing this 1920's Maino home with me. I know, that means something to about 200 people in the world, so just go with me on this one!

So that's one more l'Eroica in the books. I can't thank enough my Italian family, Maria Theresa and Daniele (who shot all of these photos, BTW), for hosting me at their 13th century castle (yep, my wife has some amazing friends who have become yet another amazing Italian family for us!).

Monday, post-ride, I spent in Grosseto at the Tommasini factory/store and ended up having lunch at Irio's house. I'm saving that for another day though, as it was yet another fantastic day for me in Italy.

MY CYCLING HERO WAS BORN 123 YEARS AGO TODAY - HIS 10 RULES FOR A PERFECT RACER

While tomorrow may be my favorite race of the year, I should be writing again about it being my first big pro race I ever saw live way back when. However, it also ties to today's topic, my cycling idol, Costante Girardengo, born March 18, 1893. Girardengo won in San Remo six times - seven if you count the time he was DQ'ed for going off course in 1915.

Gira loved San Remo like no other race. Much like myself!

Part of my shrine to Gira... thanks, Brett Horton!

I found this online somewhere and grabbed it a while ago. It's Girardengo's ten points to be a perfect racer...

Quick translation below:

1. Love your bike and care for it as best you can
2. Submit your body to the strictest control and avoid, with equal fervor, the excessive wear and tear from unnecessary tasks
3. Get to bed no later than 10:00 and wake early in the morning, even if you don't have to train
4. Don't ask from your muscles more than they can give
5. Stay well away from alcoholic drinks, don't abuse coffee, and never get drunk from wine. Well water is the drink of champions!
6. Remember to abhor drugs. Taking drugs will age you in no time. You must smoke as little as possible(!).
7. Don't forget, when racing, to act fairly. Winning from cheating has a toxic stink.
8. Don't believe you a fuori classe. Don't confuse the desire to win with the certainty of winning. The first is a macho virtue. The second is an ugly swagger. 
9. Don't just bring your legs to the race, but also your brain. Always have a clear and lucid mind. Only like this can you react to those little moments of difficulty that no racer can avoid, not even the greatest.
10. Pay your dues according to the rules. If you lose, don't blame the jury. If you win, don't boast to your rivals. Tomorrow could be your turn. Don't complain but consider your sport for what it is:  master of nobility and provider of wellness.

Still applies 90 years later! Well, apart from that smoking bit!

Gira... l'omino who was Italian national champion NINE times, San Remo SIX, fought the Spanish flu, raced until he was 43, "friend" of public enemy #1 Sante Pollastri (of which the famous ballad was written by Grechi), 106 wins on the road and 965 on the track, and DS to Guerra and Bartali.

New Christmas Arrival

Thanks to my friend Brett from The Horton Collection, this photo of my hero Costante Girardengo (the FIRST Campionissimo) now hangs on the wall in the reading room. You can see evidence of the 1930's version of Photoshop in the jersey logo and the background.

Vai, Girardengo!

Some Winter Reading

Aside from getting the bib tights and balaclava out, winter also means more time by the fire struggling to get through some Italian cycling history books. Here is what's on the reading list this year...

Ganna went missing this summer only to be found a few weeks ago. His is a great story, the first real champion of the pioneer days of Italian cycling. His battles with the devilish cheater Giovanni Gerbi are great fodder to file under 'unbelievable'. I just finished this one, but it deserves another look, as the months it went missing left my memory of it a bit disjointed.

One thing Ganna lead me to was this book by famous sports journalist Gianni Brera, l'Avocatt in Bicicletta just showed up thanks to Amazon Italy. I know, Amazon is under fire these days, maybe rightfully so. But outside of eBay and a trip to Italy, how else are you going to buy this!?! Pavesi raced for a different team in each of his seasons from '04 until '19, sometimes two teams. He went on to manage the Legnano team for the better part of forty years!

Speaking of eBay, this rare and beat up original print of the Alfredo Binda memoirs turned up this spring. It's aged, rough and was printed during the fascist regime in 1931! The style is a bit aged as well, making for some tough translating!

This book took a while to get through the first time. It's the best story out there, of the greatest champion the cycling world has ever known (yeah, I just said that). 

Sante Pollastro was the Italian Robin Hood who grew up in the cycling-mad area around Novi Ligure. Poor as a child, he resorted to theft and eventually the shooting of a number of police to avoid capture. This book traces his steps and follows the threads that connect him with Costante Girardengo, the first campionissimo. The most intriguing connection would be at Paris' Velodrome d'Hiver, when Pollastro, a Gira tifoso, gave a famous whistle in the Novi 'dialect' to get the attention of, and eventually have a meeting with Gira. Rumor has it that Gira betrayed Sante, which eventually led to his capture. Don't confuse this book with the horribly-inaccurate RAI production of a few years ago.

My more-complete review is here. I only mention this book again, as the Kindle version just found its way into my iPad and I'll be pushing through it again.

Sogni a Pedali, di Giuseppe Pancera

I've found my next bit of research and have attempted to get it ordered through an Italian university store. Giuseppe Pancera raced from 1925 to 1934 on such teams as Olympia-Pirelli, La Rafale and Dei-Pirelli. I've seen a photo of him in a Bianchi jersey as well, but that's not listed on his palmares on the same site. Other than his two Grand Tour second places (one in the Giro, one in the Tour), Pancera twice won the Coppa Bernocchi and won the 1927 Roma-Napoli-Roma, a race that has grown more interesting to me lately, knowing that the longest run was 475 kilometres! Sounds like I may need to head back and attempt my own R-N-R some day.

So, hopefully I'll be able to sit by the fire this winter and struggle through another book in a new language (yes, I sometimes consider written Italian my 'third' language!). I may add a few drops of Fernet to my espresso in homage to Pancera (rumor has it Girardengo drank it as well). Unfortunately, I'm not a fan of bitters OR liquorice, so a few drops may be all I can stomach!

A Postcard from 1919

The Golden Age of Italian cycling started in 1919. Costante Girardengo won the seventh Giro d'Italia. Second was Gaetano Belloni, who won the Giro the next year, while "Gira" returned to win it in 1923. Ottavio Bottecchia was seen triumphant in two consecutive Tours de France (1924 and 1925).

(Belloni - Girardengo - Bottecchia)

La Mitica!

Partly organized by a friend of mine in what is the holy land of Italian cycling, La Mitica will soon be on the mind of every vintage rider the same as l'Eroica is today. The event will take place July 1 and departs from Castellania, Fausto Coppi's birthplace. From there, it will enter Novi Ligure before circling Tortona and returning via the hills and roads that were used by Fausto and Serse Coppi and the first campionissimo, Costante Girardengo!

Binda, Girardengo, the Torpedo Affair and the Five Hundred Lire

It's well known that Binda and Girardengo weren't the best of friends. Many racers were actually at odds with Binda actually, even if Gira dominated the scene earlier but stayed in the graces of those he beat. But what began the malumore of the two? Ventura explains in il Campione e il Bandito.

"The 1927 World Championships signaled the start of the hostility between me and Binda," Costante recounted. "Before the start, the four of us on the Italian team agreed that if one of us should win, we'd split the ten thousand lire prize into equal parts." Of course, Binda won, but talks of splitting the spoils didn't take place. In fact, attention was focused on another affair... both Binda (Legnano) and Gira (Wolsit, a sub brand of Legnano) had mounted Torpedo rear hubs with coaster brakes by Sachs to their bikes to the tune of a one hundred twenty thousand lire sponsorship! The pact was that any publicity would never appear in Italy, to not endanger their bike sponsorships. When one Italian magazine ran a full feature on the use of the Torpedo, it was Girardengo who would have to change 'houses'. After all, Binda was the World Champion and rising star. But in departing, Gira wouldn't forget the broken promise of Nurburgring.

The next year at the start of a rainy Milan-San Remo, Gira took the line even after telling his Maino bosses that in case of rain, he wouldn't race. With a delicate wrist from earlier accidents, Gira toed the line with a long pair of gloves that reached up his arms. "It was one of the hardest and most competitive San Remo's I had ever done."

Incredible racing indeed. Gira passed through his hometown of Novi in the lead, profiting from a Binda puncture. Binda rejoins. The rain turned the snow into mush and the roads into mud. Then an attack from Giacobbe and Papeschi, then Binda. Gira loses contact but rejoins by the Turchino. Incredibly strong on the climbs, Binda attacks but is brought back. A change of wheels after Capo Berta (Negrini states they rode from Milan in a 44 x 18 and at Capo Berta flipped the wheel to a 44 x 16) sees the pair stretched out along with Negrini until the entrance to San Remo. "Let's divide the winnings," promises Binda to Gira. The campionissimo agrees, lets Binda attack from too far out, and takes him at the line by two lengths.

Some days later, Gira gets his winnings. Binda comes for his part, two thousand lire. "'No way' I tell him," recounts Gira. "It's you who owes me five hundred. Twenty five hundred from the World Championships, less two thousand from San Remo."
They didn't speak again for two years.

The True Story of 'The Champion and the Bandit'

So in the interest of expanding the knowledge base and preserving cycling history through translation... time for another book report!

I just finished Marco Ventura's il Campione e il Bandito, a well-researched account of the relationship between Costante Girardengo (Italy's first campionissimo) and Sante Pollastri (Italy's most wanted man in the late 20's, also written by him as Pollastro). My first long read in Italian, the book was a bit of a challenge at times, but proved well worth the effort.

Ventura's work was the inspiration for RAI's fiction of a similar name, a two-part foray into how far one can stretch the truth for dramatic effect. I won't go too far into criticizing it, but the main issues for me were the non-period correct bikes, class-breaking language, non-location correct settings and three main diversions from the truth: that Pollastro and Girardengo were close childhood friends; that Biagio Cavanna was some sort of upper class talent scout; and the final showdown and end of Pollastro. Aldo and Paolo, both from the Novi Ligure area, give further in-depth reviews of this on their blogs for the Italian-speakers who are interested. In addition, you can watch the entire thing on youtube in pieces, starting with the first part, below.

So back to the book and 'true' story and a quick translation that sets the stage of the early lives of the protagonists.

Their adventure begins in an Italy of misery. They were both sons of extremely poor farmers. One doesn't know for certain if they were friends, certainly they would have known of each other, because they were linked by a common passion for the bicycle: a vehicle of freedom for both of them. If in fact Girardengo would become a myth of cycling's greats, Pollastri would become the most famous bandit of the twenties. - Corriere della Sera's Costantini Emilia.

Sante was not only a fan of cycling, but tried his hand at a racing career as well. Gira's teammate Negrini is quoted as saying he even raced against Sante. But he evidently didn't have 'the stuff'. The bicycle would change from a ticket out of misery into a getaway car. A great deal of time is spent on theories and events leading up to why Sante turned to a life of crime, interspersed with the racing developments and growth of Gira, who was ten years into the most successful cycling career to date by the time Sante graduated from home robberies to his first cold-blooded murder. On July 14th of 1922, while robbing a transfer of money of the Bank of Tortona, the cashier Casalegno was murdered by a member of Sante's gang. The law was led to Sante by a switch-up in getaway vehicles. Sante's Maino was left behind by a member of the band as they hurried to get away after their unexpected killing. This began Sante's life as a bandit and a long run from the law that wouldn't finish until 1927.

This also leads me to two details for the vintage collecting set. Aside from the great detail of Gira's racing and private life which have been referenced by other authors as being some of the best-researched accounts of 1920's racing, Ventura brings us information about the Novi area's famous bicycle brands.

The first of these revolves around another "good bandit" or Robin Hood type. One hundred years earlier in the same area around Alessandria, Giuseppe Mayno della Spinetta (Monte Spineto being a mountain where he hid from the law), in protest of French inscription, began a similar career of banditry. While Mayno was an anti French guerrilla, Pollastri fell more into the thinking of anti fascist anarchists. Somewhere hidden in these pages is the explanation of how Cicli Maino is actually a descendant of this Robin Hood, the spelling changed to further distance it from its seedy roots!

The other is of course the start and growth of Cicli Girardengo, started in the forties with sons Ettore and Luciano. In 1964 assembly was transferred to the prison in Alessandria and was supplier to Maino (without the 'y'). After the death of Costante, the firm changed hands and eventually closed in the eighties, 'the second death of Girardengo' wrote Le Monde.

The book goes into great detail about a meeting on September 25, 1925, between Pollastri and Girardengo, who was racing at the Vélodrome d'Hiver against the Pélissier brothers, Bottecchia and Binda. By all accounts, Sante whistled a cifulò, which only Novi locals would recognize, to his old friend and Gira's masseur, Cavanna. The three met. Sante finally met his cycling idol and gave Gira his account of the circumstances around one of his cop-killings. Sante's condition to this was that Gira only tell the authorities should he be killed. The resulting rumors were enough to call Gira into court at the first of Sante's trials!

The second half of the book recounts Sante's time in prison and his heroics when he led the resistance to an inmate revolt and armed other inmates while protecting their jailers! His good behavior would set him free in 1959 after 32 years in prison. He spent his freedom selling various items around Novi (via bicycle) and staying within the law.

Woven throughout the book is the lyrics to a popular song about the legend of the bandit and the champion by Francesco De Gregori (written by his brother Luigi Grechi). Video below.

I found my interest change from the racing insight and biography of Girardengo to the incredible story of the bandit Pollastri. By the end of the book, I had almost forgotten the link to cycling's pioneering years; however, Ventura's level of detail and research is something that goes way beyond the typical content of most Italian cycling books... birth of the Giro - Girardengo - Binda - Guerra - Bartali/Coppi - end of the golden age.