PHOTO CAPTION CONTEST!!

Ok Kids, here it is.....
the FIRST ANNUAL Photo Caption Contest a la Notes From the PegBoard!

This photo comes to us from a customer from the bike tour company who visited my old stomping grounds of San Francisco during this year's celebration of the World Naked Bike Ride. This is an annual event held in major cities all over the world. Dont get too excited just yet, despite the allure it is usually frequented by old dudes and "healthier" folk. Not a bunch of hot college co-eds as you might hope. On the upside though, apparently this year the event was open to families. Ahhh Beautifully TOLERANT San Francisco, boy do I miss it sometimes.

OK! Anyone can play along so here's how it works...

a) - take a good close look at the picture below, study it well...there are hidden details.
b) - stop laughing, and change your shorts.
c) - think of a clever caption.
d) - type your caption as a comment at the bottom of the post.
e) - get your body paints out and mark your calendars for next year!

Prizes will be awarded for the following categories; most lewd, most repulsive, most funniest, most dumb, and the first one in, as well as a bronze trophy for last place. Good luck! Enjoy.

S.

Im working on a camera...

Not that anyone really keeps up with this thing anyhow...even I don't really want to add anything without pictures.

Last saturday was another big delivery day in the Van. Is anyone else out there starting to think I am spending an aweful lot of time in a car for a bike related job...well I am! and thats ok, cause despite the fact that I would have driven bikes distances equal to that of San Diego to Ventura and back on most of the deliveries, the roads are such that it never feels like the highway, and there certainly is not the kind of traffic you see on the highways of Cali. And I'm in Italy man, and even though some of the routes are getting so familiar I dont even look at the maps (I can find Arezzo and the E45 in a snowstorm man!) the familiarity has yet to be accompanied with the hum drum feeling of driving a same old road to make a same old delivery with the same old bikes. There is so much to see. And this weekend so much to do!

So, with the amount of driving I have done I think there was some concern from the managers that we are going to burn out on it all. Which is good, cause the driving is perhaps the biggest reason I can see that past mechanics have not returned to do the job again, and Im hoping they would like me to come back. There was a more collaborative approach to these particular deliveries, and suggestions on what previous mechanics have done. I decided to dig into some options out in Umbria where I was to be for the two deliveries. I found some mountain bike trails, in a guide book called MTB Umbria - pretty easy, and I found some camping along the shores of Lago Trasimeno via google maps. DONE!

I set out early Sat am to get to the offices of our competitor Backroads to deliver the first of the two tandems I was delivering. Backroads is an outfit that offers tours all over the world, and from what I saw of their offices in Saan Giovani Valdarno, they are doing alright this year. The tour-guides live in a posh apartment flat converted into offices and rooms, and they drive vans with trailers (a set up I'm really glad we don't use!) and have a sweet little garage space to "prep" the bikes. It was nice to see and talk to some americans but after the interaction I was left feeling much more like a capable and traveled local than a visitor. I had insider knowledge they wanted to know, they couldn't believe I drove that far to deliver a bike, and had alot of questions about how much tips I get. I assumed they are from the San Francisco Bay Area (as in Bay Area Backroads - nice tan!) and was sad to hear all the talk about cash money exchanging hands. The tour-guides were wrestling the tandem to get it on their "custom" roof rack that they "own the patent on" and talking about how the folks renting it better be good tippers. Nice. Like a little slice of the Bay Area right here in Italy, while the "bike prep" I witnessed included wiping the bike down, holding the handlebars, and making sure the wheels spin, I never saw an allen wrench, or heard a shift - but maybe they are in such good shape they don't need it. It was not so unlike Kubrick's opening scene in 2001 A Space Odyssey entitled, the Dawn of Man
which if you didn't see the similarities then you will now to this loving tribute in Zoolander sorry for the spanish subtitles.

Can anyone detect my sarcasm...seriously, visiting the backroads offices and bike staging area was a huge eye-opener to the kind of summer I could be having. These kids, and I say that due to their lack of experience not their age, were in it to see Italy while making tax free money, probably the summer between graduating undergrad and going to professional or graduate schools somewhere. Not my Peeps, I can assure you that! And it left me with another bad taste in my heart for American travelers. So much entitlement and so little humility, or even curious wandering for that matter, its like conquering Italy instead of trying to experience it as an Italian. They were happy to offer me a diet coke and refer me to the "New York Deli" across the street from their place. I didn't bother to tell them to story of how, because the address they gave me was absolute crap, that I had to struggle though asking directions from an old dude who smelled of beer and sweat, wearing a three day old tank-top that barely fit who was gardening in his yard, and was finally led to the correct street by another dude who happened to be headed that way in his car - a true Italian interaction as they debated among themselves where it was for like a half hour of passionate hand gestures before agreeing to just take me there, down streets made for little scooters, me in my giant van! I feel like the Backroads kids would consider all that a distraction, a waste of time and money, and would be furious about not having correct directions because they spend a lot of money on this and...blah....blah....blah....same old San Francisco rich kid entitlement! Thankfully the second delivery was also a pick up of people, a couple who needed a lift from the train station to the beautiful Borgo Tre Rose.

The train was a little late, it was hot and I was really hungry, I hit the little cafe in the train station, and wandered a little bit before Melissa and Ed Baltes showed up with roller luggage, amazing tans, and smiles! These were happy tourists, nice people, from the south, who originally lived in LA and never waned to go back. I liked them. Teachers, bikers, Ed has a single speed back in HotLanta where they live. Good southern transplants, who talked like they were tapping into their life saving to do this trip and so far it was totally worth it! They had been on a cruise from Veneza, and were now going to ride around on the lovely big blue tandem through the wine country of southern Tuscana and northern Umbria, and although a little beat from a long day of traveling by boat and car and train and now car again, they were super nice and excited. We got to their hotel, I let them check in while I checked the bike, we did a quick fitting and then left them with all the self guided tour info that Bea had put together for them back at the Farm. I think they were a little overwhelmed. When I split they asked if I knew where they could get cheap local food cause the dinner at the hotel was 35 euro a person and they wanted to tip me. What a neat coincidence. After listening to the Backroads kids talk so much of money I of course told the Baltes they were crazy for a) not treating themselves to the dinner at Tre Rose cause its legendary in the valley and they should spoil themselves after a long day of travel, and b) that they are school teachers, who do bike outreach, and are on a limited budget. I told them that my reward is to get to meet people like them and build my own story this summer all over the Italian country side, and as much as that did to ensure them it was ok not to tip me, it also did wonders for me, to reassure myself that, that is exactly what I'm doing here!

I left them and headed down to the lake, to buy some supplies at the store and get settled into my campsite right on the shores of Lago Trasimeno.



BELISIMA!!! Camping was cheap (8 euro a night with the monster van), and the people there were friendly. The little country store had draft beer and excellent coffee in the am for cheap, and locally baked bread. Quite a different experience than buying an old dusty can o beans at the country store in Borego Springs, or somewhere near lake Shasta.



The local trail system is well marked with signs (still got lost but in the beautiful farmland nearby) and offered a lovely ripping 6KM section of singletrack on the way back to the campground. All in all I think I rode about 4 hours about a third of the way around the lake. Its huge! It was hot and time for a swim, a nap, and another sandwich of salami and cheese on that fresh bread, then a pedal up the hill to the middle of the castle where I had a gelato and was joined by the town crazy dude. We had a lovely conversation about how great the ice cream was and about all the pretty ladies walking through the courtyard, especially the one that was way too old for the dude she was with and I explained that's what we called a Cougar, and I think he liked the Cougar, or used to date her in highschool...of course neither of us understood one another but I'm sure he appreciated the conversation as he patted me on the head when he left and yelled (town crazy remember, maybe a little too much lead in his diet as a young kid) CIAO!! I got the much needed rest I was looking for, a cool night under cloudless stars, a chance to read and write and again to be absolutely head over heels in love with this experience. Time away from the Farm well spent.



S.

things you wont see in Italy

OK, just one...this sign hails from ALL.art in Los Angeles California, apparently NOT the city of angels anymore, but a city full of hellish little kids and lawless adults who willingly participate in a bunch of extracurricular activities that have shown themselves to be inextricably linked to gangs, prostitution and drug use. Please educate your children on the dangers of the following activities.

Thank you, and stay off the grass, and out of the sensitive habitats....the list goes on don't it?



S

call me Fernào from now on...

Fernào Magellan

As you might expect I have been DYING for a little r-n-r on the beach, and since its finally summertime HOT outside I figured there would be more people than in may when I rode out there the first time. I again rode to the town of Ravenna, which is much bigger and seems more metropolitan than Forli or Faenza (the two towns I am between) and met up with Igor. We took the easy bike path out to the coast from there. Along the way there is a giant billboard that you ride under, Igor pointed out that the digital tickers along the bottom count how many bikes ride under it in a single day, at 11 it was already in the thousands! Italy loves bikes!! We get to the seaside and buy some provisions at the local store, full of dudes in boardshorts, and kids with sunscreen on, just like you would imagine in any coastal town on a sunday, and we head for one of the Bani.

The Bani (bagno when there is just one) is the term for the privately owned beach resorts that butt against each other all the way down the coast. At first this sounds like a shitty and commercialized way to go to the beach, and for this so-cal native, driving (riding) down the coast and seeing all the signs for the themed Bani makes it at first feel like some exclusive right of those who can afford it. But they are FREE! They gouge you on overpriced food and drink, but get this...they dont hassle you if you bring your own! I started to realize that Italian and American beach cities are going to differ quite a bit! We cut through a small strip of pine forest, over a big dune, and voila!! TONS of cars and bikes and scooters, and people, kids, twenty-somethings, couples singles, big groups of friends, families, all enjoying the sun, relaxing on blankets and big pillows, straw mats, recliners with sun shades, and cooling off in the warm waters of the Adriatic throughout the day. It was perfect, and made for some GREAT people watching. It was a familiar trip to the beach, but not like any beach scene I've ever been to.

There are the usual tattooed tough guys, but they are much older, and their swim suits are much MUCH smaller. That's right folks, welcome to speedo-ville, where masculinity is not challenged by the fact that everybody can see your balls! And how cute that you want to have a wrestling match with you equally naked buddy in front of your topless girlfriends, that's true european bro-ship man! Seriously for all you perves and boob-men out there, I saw alot of tits yesterday! So many in fact that in just a few short hours (and aided by the fact that I'm more of a "personality-man" than a boob-man) I was almost completely desensitized to it all. The speedos was a different story. Imagine a really tall dude, standing over a group of seated girls talking (probably about how rad he is) all the while randomly cupping his barely covered unit! It was amazing! So different and yet I think by the end of the summer I gotta get me one. Needless to say I really wish I had gotten that tea-bag tattoo before I left the US and A.

Igor and I hit at least three bani, the KUTA, with its cool asian theme, big grassy area, plenty of shade, big throw pillows to lounge around on, and great beach access was where we spent most of the day. We met up with some other friends at another one but I cant remember what it was called, further south down the beach, more adults with kids kinda joint, and a much smaller beach access point. Got another swim in and headed to bagno PeterPan. PeterPan was awesome, and more what I have come to expect from the younger beach goers. Booze. Loads of fruity mixed drinks, and long lines to order them, sunburned bums on pasty white girls, and groups of dudes staring at girls with their bums hanging out of tiny bikinis. Bagno PeterPan is a little slice of Orange County I can do without. I just cant take tough guys seriously to begin with, their bad tribal tattoos that go ALMOST all the way around their overdeveloped biceps, and their perfect haircuts and 2-day stubble, but put that muscle flexing, dumb sounding, kinda-mean-to-his-hott-girlfriend-in-public douchebag in a speedo and I just cant handle it! I will say this about bagno PeterPan - the best damn mixed fruity cocktails I have ever seen. Seriously the bartenders look a little rough and its tough to get eye contact to order, but deep down they are as patient, and friendly, and overworked as the bartenders at the Zeitgeist on a sunday mixing bloodies. I have never seen so much fresh fruit behind a bar before (seriously who guts guava by hand!) and they took their time to shoot the shit while making like 8 mojitos at a time, hand crushed ice and all! Best part though of most of the bani, they have FREE SHOWS!!! We could hear one spot The Hana Bi get going in the evening and I was supposed to meet the record store kids there but the day was getting long! Hana Bi has amazing free shows all summer, and their particular nite to rock is tuesday, with all the other bani taking a weeknite to shine throughout the summer months. Not that I'll ride again, maybe drive to Ravenna with the bikes and ride in. Driving to the beach on a sunday and staying all day results in traffic jams out of town in any country it would seem!

This might be a good point to make a few observations about the Italian people I am really starting to enjoy. As noted, speedos are OK. Little kids and their dads running down the beach chasing a toy boat in matching marble-bags is kinda cute. Girls sunning their boobs although quite the frequent and nonchalant act, was matched with just as many girls self consciously trying to roll over in the sun and NOT expose their boobies. Tough guys with mickey mouse tee-shirts - totally still threatening. There have been several occasions where I saw a shirt that would be more befitting a skinny fixie riding SF hipster kid than the over-sized, stretched out neck version of the ironic tee I am seeing here. Except its not ironic! In Italy its perfectly acceptable to be menacing looking and threatening in speech and wearing a donald duck or snoopy shirt. The american cultural influences seems to have stopped after the war, maybe a little coca-cola, and a Harley here and there but Italians are a self sufficient nation and I dig it!

Igor met up with his lady friend who works at one of the restaurants on the coast and we headed home for the night, back to Ravenna for Gelatto, actually my first since I got here which no one can believe! And Igor pointed me towards the road I needed to get back to the Farm. I think I left Ravenna at about 9:15 (or 21:15 to my Italian readership)!! It was going to be a long and dark ride home, but with the glow of a sunkissed torso (read; sunburned), and an elevated bike path along the river for most of the ride lit up by more lightning bugs, I unbuttoned my cowboy shirt and preceded to eat gnats at an alarming rate of speed the whole way back! Italian drivers as crazy as they have been up till now, all seemed a bit concerned for the idiot on the bike on the farm roads at night and most slowed down so much when they passed I thought they wanted to chat, some even slowed down for a while, giving me the use of their brights until another less patient driver came screaming up behind them. It was a little nerve wracking but the whole ride allowed me to count in Italian, keeping track of the number of cars that passed, 42 in all. I rolled up to the Farm at almost 11 and hurried through a cold shower for my aching legs and stood in the shower with a bucket of pasta in hand grinning ear to ear for the ridiculous feat I had just pulled off. Igor's friends at the beach seemed amazed we rode there from his house but looked at me like I was crazy when he told them I rode all the way from Faenza. 108km round trip (thats 67.72 miles - roughly Mission Beach to Oceanside harbour AND BACK! for you so-cal readers, or SF- Napa, or FoCo - D.Town for my Co friends), 13 hours away from the Farm, 2 big beers, a sandwich, and apple, gelatto and about 500 grams of gnats, all on chichi the shit bike! I actually just looked outside at my bike and the blinky light is still on. Safety first! Gotta stretch.

S.