Bicycling in Italy... commentary from Joan Carris BEAUFORT, NC (pre) - Because I am growing ever more crazy as the years go by, I agreed to go bicycling in Italy. The trip was managed by Vermont Bike Tours, a truly wonderful company, so I had no worries. Although no one would ever call me an athlete, I had always enjoyed bicycling.
As a kid I rode round and round our block on steamy summer evenings, regularly passing our house and hollering, "Look, Ma! No hands!" After which Mom or Dad would scream, "Joan! Stop that! Do you have a death wish? Come in the house right this minute!"
I would ride off into the distance, thinking, "Parents! Always expecting the worst."
Well I am SO glad they weren't with me in Italy, where it must have seemed that I did have a death wish. The first time I got my elegant rental bike for a short practice ride our group had ridden only half a mile before a narrow, open-work iron bridge presented itself. Teeth gritted, I began wobbling across the bridge. My husband says he looked back and yelled, "Get off and walk!" but I didn't hear him. The bike and I ricocheted from one side of the bridge to the other before crashing.
The bruises were nearly instantaneous and became more dramatic in a hurry. One of our tour guides shepherded me back to the hotel, where the woman at the desk took one look at me and cried, "Oh, Madam, you must come over here! Sitta, please! I get ice!" She flew away to the kitchen while I sat down inside, where it was cool. The gift of ice a special offering in Europe told me that I looked pretty bad. Mainly I was peeved, yet in an odd way I was also happy. It was way too hot for riding, I had not broken any bones the ultimate bone density test, I thought and I hadn't fallen on my head. I went to our room with my ice bags encased in white damask napkins, and read a book.
Three more times in the next two days I fell two minor tumbles and another "real doozy" as my mother would have said but I kept riding in the safer areas no towns or traffic. There's something about a truck only inches away from my left bike handle that unnerves me. I didn't even THINK about riding with no hands, and much of the time I rode in the tour's van, with one of our two charming, efficient Italian guides. When the trip was over considering the yummy meals, delightful people, and unique side trips we were well satisfied.
Some vacations are all about lying n the sun other times they are for testing yourself, for discovering who you are. On this trip I discovered that I truly haven't an athletic bone in my body, but I do understand perseverance.

2 August 2011 Joan Carris
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