Bombing Mission and the Milan Connection

This is the story of The Milan Connection, that landed in town in a wonderfully warm and summery week in mid-September: Motosega "Chainsaw", Andrès and Guerrero joined us for a fixed gear exploration of our up-and-down town, an unusual landscape for who is used to the flatlands of the Lombardia region. With their jaw-dropping bicycles (Vicini and Bottecchia track frames, and I'll not go into details  about the single components...) impressive tattoos, a go pro hero camera and lots of bike stuff to sell among which carbon rims, complete wheels, steel track frames and some funky shoes...

Wednesday evening is the chronicle I'll tell you about.

The work day over, I catch up with Lele and Billy and ride to Piazza Unità where Chainsaw, Andrès and Guerrero are waiting for us. Quick presentations and we soon feel comfy. We ride to their place and have a look at the bike pieces they've brought to sell. we A few minutes later we all meet at what has turned out to become a sort of Trieste Fixed Gear HQ: The Boston Blvd., where we catch up with The Prof, Tony and Brugal. The group is ready to go. 8 bikes, 8 riders and 3 of these have no clue what awaits them. The Trieste team very well knows it's going to be more hills than slopes. The Milan Connection has no idea of the amount of km we are about to pedal...most of which climbing.

BUM!!! Here we go!! The Prof obviously heads the group. He's got a route in mind and he's headed for it: Via Battisti, Via Carducci, Piazza Oberdan, right-turn in Salita della Trenovia, then up left in Via Udine...At the end of Via Udine, Chainsaw stares at the Salita di Gretta, the first "wall" on our way. Inevitably, his mouth produces a resounding "what the fffuck..." partly due to the gear ratio mounted on his bike (which he calls "biga"). Up we go, "milanès".

When you climb Salita di Gretta you say goodbye to your breath for a while...

The first wall is tamed and we're rolling towards the "Faro della Vittoria" lighthouse. At the crossroad there we turn left and ladies and gentlemen, here's a damn fucking great slope with an almost 180° turn at the end: please pay homage to Via del Perarolo. Thanks god we're doing it downhill, not uphill. Let the tires smoke and feel free to scream from joy...

Via del Perarolo ends in Viale Miramare. Right turn and we're on the Barcola seaside. For a while, we can now ride on flat ground, by the sea...My gear development is really crap compared to the rest of the group, so on flatland I'm hopelessly behind the pack. But when we get back to climbing, when the Strada Costiera begins, the music changes and I'm back in business, catching up with this crazy team in the pitch-black night...A beautiful night, with a peaceful sea below mirroring some lazy moon rays.

Tiny red lights flashing on the side of the street, we're a tiny queue of tiny red lights flashing in the night, puzzling the cars driving in the opposite direction who probably would have never thought to cross such a colorfoul, tattoed and hard-core group of bikers riding weird bikes with no gears and NO BRAKES. CHAINSAW, KEEP GOING, RASTAFARAI, SELASSIÈ THE FIRST, EVER LIVING, EVER FEARFUL!

Let's stop for some water at the fountain right before the natural gallery...Let's check the chain of Lele's bike, way too tight for the back wheel to spin properly. Luckily, Tony rides with a messenger bag loaded with tools and we can improve a bit the situation. A pee, a drink, a couple curses from Chainsaw and we're back on our steel horses, screaming inside the gallery and headed towards Sistiana. Where we'll turn right, to begin our climb up towards Prosecco, some 10 km away...

The pack isn't packed anymore. Those a bit more used to going uphill almost rush straight ahead, while the others don't give up, yet slow down sensibly. The road is mostly dark and apparently flat. Apparently...The temperature chills down some 5 degrees and we feel a little cold, as we get nearer to our second pit-stop, The Bunker Pub.

Funny place, The Bunker. The bartender claims to be some kind of beer expert. He certainly lives in in his own time-warped space: ordering a beer here means waiting for a half an hour, only to receive a glass that is 70% foam, and 30% beer...We cannot but laugh about this weirdo, as I try Chainsaw's Vicini frame and fall in love with its wonderful proportions and the feel it gives me when riding it.  

30 minutes (20 spent waiting...) and we're back on our saddles, headed towards Santa Croce, half-way from Prosecco where another water fountain is waiting for our thirsty throats. Chainsaw, Andrès, Guerrero, YOU MADE IT! You never gave up these crazy Trieste guys, the climbing is over and in front of you lies one of the most exciting hill bombing experiences this town can give you. 7,4km of pure excitation. It will be impossible to control euphoria, some parts will be pitch-black, some bends will drive you crazy. And the gulf of Trieste will stare at you on the right, wondering what that small flashing light is, running down that hill so fast...check your engines, get set, GO!!

This is my territory, this is what I love. I love spinning those legs way past the limit, feel the crank spin more than expected. That rush of blood to the  brains, the warming up muscles in my arms trying to keep my bike stable, the lamp post rushing by one after the other, the street stretching and getting thinner, the concrete smooth as a pool table. I cannot but yell my happiness, yell the sensation my fixed gear is offering me, yell in the night, howl, laugh. I feel my eyes wide open, and I feel a big smile on my face. I think about the Prof behind me and I'm sure he's smiling too. Our whole bodies are smiling, realising how fuckingly amazing this whole alternative bike scene is, what it gives you and how it matches our expectations from an extreme sport activity. It makes you feel special, it makes you feel both a renegade and a conquerer. It changes your whole perspective of places you call home. It resets your heart beat.

Down we go quick as hell. I'd love to be in the middle of the Gulf of Trieste for just a few seconds, some 100 metres high, staring at the street we're riding. 8 bikes going down, what a filming it would be. I imagine the scene in my head, I can zoom endlessly there, go from the full picture where we're just tiny dots to full zooms of Chainsaw, of Lele who rushes faster than the speed of light and faster than me, of Billy, of Brugal, of Tony, Andrès, Guerrero...

All that climbing, all those night km, all that chilly temperature, that fatigue...everything is repaid by this ultrasonic downhill ride. Everything.

We stop when we arrive in the area of Gretta, right before that Salita we climbed at the beginning of our night tour. It's now turned into another, super quick and exciting downhill slope with a right bend at the end. We're all excited, we're all together, we're all kids again and I wonder how easy it is sometimes to forget you're an adult and enjoy light-heartedness...Salita di Gretta, we're back the opposite direction. Behind us, an unforgettable night ride. Ready, get set, go. At the speed of light yet like a slow motion. Our smiles are still there, intact, as we're back in Via Udine, heading towards our HQ where a cold beer (this time served as it should be) and a warm cheeseburger waits for us.

This was just the beginning of a three-day night ride experience with our brothers from Milan. A wonderful start of a wonderful holiday-like bike experience exploring Trieste and showing our fellow riders what it has to offer.

..We can't wait to have them back in town again. We've got new friends. That's what these bikes do.