A single day, a final chapter, a last ride. Of all the miles covered and all the roads ridden, which would draw you back to experience them one more time?

BRAKELESS DESCENTS & ASSISTED ASCENTS

Café du Cycliste Co-Founder // Remi Clermont

My Last Ride you said ? So you’re sure ? This is really the last one right? Ok then it’s going to be amazing, I can’t wait !

For sure Dad is on that ride and this time I won’t worry about him behaving like a nut on the road. You want to go before me dad, then just keep doing those moves. By the way, how many times have we discussed the possibility of descending your local ‘Col des Trois Epis’ without touching the brakes? Only one way to find out if feasible, try to catch up with me if you’re not not already a useless old man…

Phone call to Lance A., Jan U. and Richard V. : “Guys, send me each 10 litres of your best stuff '. Distilled in copper alembic, that makes two full bidons of ‘essential rocket oil’ to fuel my Last Ride. Flying to the moon, up Col de Turini at 25km/h average, 3 times in a row… Hey Kong Fùfù and les amis, “vous comptez les paves”?

Guys, it’s a long way home but you are so slow. Oh we are in hypoglycemia ? Let’s stop on that terrasse in the sun, drink the beers, eat the bread and cheese that our bonking body is begging us to ingest…for as as long as we still feel hungry. No more beer ? Bring some wine for the cheese. No more cheese? Bring the Choux a la Creme !!

Back on the road in weight weenies mode : helmets, pump, tubes, bidons are left at the café as tips - too heavy for our pace. Passed by a screaming Japanese motorcycle, “Christ on a bike !” let’s do something about that. Human sacrifice of a Kawasaki Ninja pilot on Madonna del Ghisallo, wishes are answered : closed, car free and silk smooth roads. Cool winds on the climbs, warm smell of colitas on the descents.

I’m with my pretty lycra boys that I call friends. How they dance on the pedals, sweet summer sweat. Some dance to remember, some dance to forget…Last thing I remember, I was running for the KOM, trying to find the passage back to the place I was before. Relax said Eddy, we are programmed to ride. You can ride your last one any time you like, but you can never leave!

MY MARBLE HEART

Armchair Eurosport Critic // Gentleman Rouleur // @saddleblaze

If you’re ever cycling through the Apuan Alps and towards the Med from Castelnuovo di Garfagnana on the scenic Strade Provinciale 13 then I dare you to hook a right as soon as you exit the kilometre-long Cipollaio tunnel. Defy the no-entry signs, the potholes and loose gravel, not to mention the borderline comedic gradient. Keep on going right to the top and you’ll be rewarded with the wondrous sight of the immense Cervaiole marble quarry scalping the mountain and presiding over the Tyrrhenian sea, its sheer, white, towering walls illuminated by the sun.

Since doing this crazy detour a few summers back, northern Tuscany’s little-known Apuan Alps – and in particular, its myriad marble mines – have become my happy place. I first discovered the nearby Garfagnana region on a mammoth touring ride across Europe while researching my book, Climbs and Punishment: Riding to Rome in the Footsteps of Hannibal.

Unfashionable, rustic and quite unlike other Tuscan tourist traps, the area keeps drawing me back – most recently, on a hiking (not biking) holiday during which my girlfriend became my fiancée.
So it’s no surprise I’d choose the Alpi Apuane as the backdrop for my Last Ride – a jumbo loop combining the Garfagnana and this stunning offshoot of the Apennines. The 235km route would include three major climbs: the brute that is San Pellegrino in Alpe, the more accommodating ascent to Abetone, and the mysterious, isolated Passo del Vestito. It would start in the magical lake-side hamlet of Vagli Sotto – a great base for mountain exploration whether on foot or on Felt. My companions for the first half of the ride would be Robin and Mark, who I met on that Hannibal ride a few years back.

We’d gather in Castelnuovo for a caffeine injection ahead of the schlep up San Pellegrino, the climb that cracked Pantani on the 2000 Giro d’Italia (so many riders struggled on its 18% ramps that the race has never returned since). We’d be riding in autumn, when the leaves have turned and porcini pickers head into the woods with baskets to forage for funghi.

At the ski resort of Abetone we’d grab an early lunch of fettucini with wild boar ragu before descending through the forest where, riding in reverse, Fausto Coppi made his name in the 1940 Giro. I’d bid farewell to my chums at Bagni di Lucca (where they’d probably angle for a spa and massage) for my Last Ride wouldn’t be complete without some solitary pedalling. The gentle rise from Castelnouvo – alongside the gorge on the SP13, past the eerie ghost town of Isola Santa and in the shadow of the sublime Monte Sumbra – would provide the me-time I crave while in the saddle.

After the Cipollaio tunnel I’d give the quarry detour a miss this time. Besides, the view up from the winding descent is staggering enough: to the untrained eye, the mountain appears snow-capped even in summer. Since Roman times mines have peppered these parts. Michelangelo often hand-picked marble from nearby Carrara while today almost one million tonnes of the stuff is removed annually. I find this collision of industry, culture and nature quite mesmerising.

Then again, I think the same of gelato – and in the town of Massa I‘d meet my fiancée and her Specialized for some ice cream before tackling the secluded Passo del Vestito together. Its stack of steep switchbacks near the summit overlook yet more quarries (there’s something Tolkien-esque here – like Mordor without the orcs) while the crowning tunnel – long, potholed and pitch-black – is a reminder why the Vestito is shunned by the Giro. At the deserted Henraux quarry we’d rejoin the SP13 before peeling off on the narrow up-and-over “short-cut” back to Vagli Sotto.

This final sting in the tail sees the road cling vertiginously to a cliff above the reservoir at Isola Santa and opposite the jagged Uomo Morto ridge on the horizon. Surrounded by a canopy of chestnut trees, the autumn colours here are a wonder. At Caraggine, overlooking Lake Vagli, we’d glimpse the sun setting beyond Monte Pisanino – the tallest of the Apuan peaks – then freewheel down for pizza and plonk at the local family-run restaurant.

As for the rest of my Last Ride – it’s none of your business, I‘m afraid.

THE RETURN TO LAGO DI COMO

Cycling Photographer // Milano Resident // @pedaleforchetta

A large amount of the kilometers I clock each year are pedalled around the Lago di Como. I really love the place. It is quite close to Milano where I live and even if it is nestled in the middle of the most industrialized region of Italy, in my opinion it is still a wild place.

This part of the region is full of surprises for all those cyclists looking for different rides each weekend: from riding close to the shores, especially between Como and Lecco, to climbing over the beautiful mountains - how not to mention the Ghisallo with the famous and sacred little church of the ‘Madonna del Ghisallo’, patroness of the cyclists and the lovely Cycling Museum next to the church? The landscape shows plenty of colours and shades, while offering strong challenges to the cyclist. … yes, exactly… I am thinking about the famous Muro di Sormano which stands out in the area.

The ride that I love most is the one that in our cycling community is simply called “Onno”. The Onno ride was the first place, when I was young, where I really started suffering to keep the pace of the pack or, in other words, where I understood what cycling was all about. At that time Onno was the fixed Sunday ride. I wasn't a strong cyclist (yet) and the mileage of the loop looked very frightening to me. As a matter of fact I still remember the helpless glances exchanged between me and my fellow riders as soon as I started to loose ground from them…

The meeting point of all cyclists directed to the north of Milano - to the “Brianza” - is in front of the Villa Reale in Monza, a historic building dating back to the period when the region was part of the Austrian Empire. My Last Ride would have to be here, with all those faces of the various seasoned riders who I have shared this road with. Those early rides shaped me as a cyclist and it's where I return.

The road from Monza to Onno is not flat. It goes slightly uphill with some muretti to climb during the way - nothing to do, however, with the terrific Muro di Sormano. On the top of one of these muretti, a beautiful panorama unveils in front of you: the Corni di Canzo mountains, the Grigna massif and the beautiful Resegone mountain with its nine peaks of similar height!

But the best is yet to come. In fact, at some point, you reach the Lago di Como and after passing through two tunnels you happen to ride along its shores. This road, the road from Lecco to Onno is what the phrase ‘panoramic road’ is all about with the water of the lake on your right along the narrow road and the woody mountains on your left until you reach the small village of Onno, where the climb starts, the same where Fiorenzo Magni, the winner of three in a row Tour of Flanders, used to train. It is not a very long climb, nor very steep and that is why we enjoy it so much… we can pretend to be great climbers … Hey! We are amateurs!

The road back to Milano is cycled at full speed and sometimes, when the cars traffic is low, the way back is one of the most exhilarating experience I can describe. During my early days I was dropped by the group, left to make a lonely return to Milan whilst dreaming of impossible revenges on the slopes of the hills and planning more training during the week days.

For my Last Ride I would be at the front, taking turns, driving the pace, flicking elbows for the others to come through. This run home is pure cycling. You feel at one with your bike, speed is high but the road is safe, the peloton works like a well-oiled machine. Everything is just perfect.

I am lucky: I have a lot of friends that I have known for decades and with whom I share the passion of a ride. So much of the fun and satisfaction that I feel when I ride is due to them. During the years we also faced those common problems and incidents you can encounter on the road as cyclists, but we are together and that is the reason for my loving cycling so much. For sure, they are with me on my Last Ride, eating up the road, sharing stories, providing company until the finish.