FROM THE COURTYARD TO THE STREET
It is cold, but sunny.
And from the yard to the street is a short step.
But just outside the comfort zone a lot of things increase:
The cars, the squeeze, the speed, the wind.
It is done, though.
Accomplice to the good weather, Padded, clumsy but fearless I ride my Mastretta and roam the streets of the hills, with climbs and descents attached.
I am no longer used to anything, the saddle first of all.
And then to toil: I haven’t sweated in a while, and my breath is completely gone.
Every time I hear an engine approaching from behind, I am apprehensive: a tricycle with two wheels in front has an abnormal width compared to the expectations of an unsuspecting motorist.
But now it’s really going. Crisp air in the face, a little breathlessness to push uphill, and some healthy lactic acid in the legs tomorrow.
One of the first trips is to Monferrato by my friend Monica, muse of bike routes.
I am surprised by the soft vistas and hard impacts with the potholes, and slowly a thrill of exhilaration rises.
