InGamba – The Magazine 2019

Page 1










O PATRÃO

TRUE NORTH

ARD-SCRÍBHNEOIR

LEADER OF THE LADIES

O BALA

ROI REALITY WRANGLER

THE NO-NO KNOWITALL

KIT CONSULTANT

THE I-DOTTER

GREENSKEEPER

TOKEN ENGLISHMAN

EAST COAST CAPTAIN

VISUAL VISIONARIES

WALL-MEETING CREW

João Correia Colin O’Brien

Jim Merithew Beatriz Severes

Angela Carstarphen-Watford Guy Andrews

Ashley Gruber Jered Gruber Scott Foreman Stephen Lam

Ann Edlen

Heidi Swift Jon Biele

Giordana Andretta Paul Casey Jay Butler

Tai Beauchamp, Kelly Buteyn, George Brian Absher, Carly Brahim

POSITION CUT DUE TO BUDGET Zöe, Liam, and Thomas

ORIGINAL DONKEYS Jay Lidell Paul Daniels Pete Giese Paul Thomson

MAYOR

Paolo Cioni

KING OF GRAVEL Ted King

QOM

Katie Bolling

MECHANICS TO THE STARS Jorge Queirós Helder Gomes Luis Gomes Francisco Carvalho

GURU

Patrick Sweeney

THANK YOU

Alex Craddock, Ed Keller, Ed Scheetz, Jamie Streator, Jonathan Heiliger, Mike Dudgeon, Nathan Codding, Nelson and Allison Bebo, Birgir Mar Ragnarsson, Matt Fischer, Amy Sweeney, Paul Rosica, Phil West, Todd Thomson, Tom Hacket, Manuel Bottazzo, Nate Loyal, mErCh, Inga, Rosanna, Andrew Reed, Aaron Olson, Kim Anderson, Fausto Pinarello, Giorgio Andretta, Michil and Mathias Costa, Lorenza Sebasti, Marco Pallanti, Michael Zellman, Dain Zaffke, Peter Lago, Nicoló Idlos, Ryan Dolan, Dan Hickle, Lucas Euser, Chris Ritchie, Lisa Colombelli, Alessia Carminati, Alberto Curtolo, Nicola Baggio, Rosela Signori, Lee Hutchinson, Bill Gifford, Bill Strickland, Tiiu McGuire, Manuel and Helena Correia... and The Godfather.

ISSUE NUMBER 019 ANNUAL PUBLICATION SAN FRANCISCO INGAMBA.PRO —

The Magazine was made possible by the infinite talent and generosity of all the people listed above. Their enthusiasm and willingness to participate is what made this project what it is today. If you are interested in collaborating with inGamba, dis­tributing it, or being a part of our projects in the future, please contact us at hello@ingamba.pro.

CO-FINANCED BY



GETTING AWAY FROM IT ALL FROM THE DESK OF JOÃO CORREIA

My buddy Laurens ten Dam loves camping. Most professional athletes I know are all about five-star hotels and the finer things in life, but he couldn’t care less. He’s all about grilling in the great outdoors with his family, mountain biking with his buddies, getting away from it all. He’s been like that as long as I’ve known him, well before #VanLife became a thing on Instagram, when an army of millennials started taking to the road in search of enlightenment… and the perfect yoga/sunrise/ocean combination for their social media. He just did it because he loved it. I don’t think I always understood it, but you had to respect it. More recently, my opinion on the whole thing has changed, and for that I need to both thank Laurens, and apologize to him. A little over a year ago at a bookstore near my house, I saw a book called Van Life by Foster Huntington, and thought it would make a nice little Christmas gift for Laurens. So far, so good; I had a thoughtful little gift for an old friend. But then I started flicking through it, and I forgot all about it being a gift. The more I admired the old Volkswagen vans, the more I saw myself driving one. And then my son Liam came to visit and he got really into it, too. We started talking about cool father-son road trips on Highway One, and I started looking around online, out of curiosity. The adventure had begun, all thanks to someone over in Holland who knew nothing about it. So, Laurens: Thanks for the inspiration, and sorry for stealing your gift. The next time I buy you a book, I’ll get it in Dutch. A few months passed, and on our way from LA to San Francisco we decided to stop at an automotive restorer in Ventura that I’d heard of. I didn’t think I was ready to buy, I just wanted to meet this guy who quit his job to start a business built around his passion. For obvious reasons, his story resonated with me. But when Liam and I saw the old yellow bus in the back, we were sold. The restoration would take a while, but it felt like we were already on the adventure. And it felt good. Fast forward to a year after I bought the book, and Liam and I set off north from Venice on Highway One to our first stop at Refugio State Beach just north of Santa Barbara. The moment we pulled in, someone came over to invite us to a little VW-owners’party. A guy played bagpipes and another told a story of how he met his birth parents. I sat there thinking, “This is nuts,” but I was smiling and I noticed right away how much Liam was loving it. A few days later we moved on to Big Sur and spent a few nights among the Redwoods. I managed to make a fire, cook on a camping range and sleep in a sleeping bag. All new experiences. We played chess, and Liam won every game (not a new experience). We hiked, read books. He did his morning Taekwondo practice, I tried my best to take it all in.

10


Time like that is precious, and it never seems to last long enough. The trip has come and gone, but those few special days left me with a lifetime of happy memories to cherish, and plenty of food for thought for the new year. It’s far too easy to get tied down with the trappings of modern life. Work, bills, the hard-and-fast routines you can’t remember ever agreeing to, even the amount of time most of us spend aimlessly online these days. Sharing that little VW adventure with Liam has reminded me to see past the everyday stuff that can cloud our vision and make it hard to focus on the really important things in life. Does everyone need to spend a small fortune restoring a 50-year-old, gas-guzzling van to reach the same conclusion? No, of course not. I’d be the first to admit that I have a flare for over-complication. I’m sharing this story in the hope that it might inspire some of you to go out on a whim and do something different this year. Get out of your comfort zone, pare life back to the essentials – it’s surprising how happy you can be with no distractions. Enjoy, João Correia @joaoisme

11



14

OUR FAVORITE THINGS FOR 2019

22 PINARELLO F10 DISK 24 REMEMBERING MONT VENTOUX

FAUSTO PEZZI

26 TOP TIPS FROM A TOP CHEF

MATTHEW ACCARINO

30 WHO WANTS A COOKIE?

MATTHEW ACCARINO

32 PORTUGAL 34 PERFECT RIDING PARTNERS

JIM MERITHEW

40 #BESTWEEKEVER

HEIDI SWIFT

54 ITALY 56 SÃO LOURENÇO DO BARROCAL

JOSÉ UVA

66 WAITING FOR [ANOTHER] GREG

GUY ANDREWS

76 FOR THE LOVE OF CALVES

JIM MERITHEW

78 PROVENCE 80 CRUSHING THE CALIFORNIA COAST

STEPHEN LAM

98 GAMBRINUS

COLIN O’BRIEN

104 CATALONIA 106 MAKING THE CUT

COLIN O’BRIEN

112 HOW TO WIN THE JOY QOM

HEIDI SWIFT

114 THE INGAMBA FAMILY 120 CALIFORNIA 122 FRASI/FRASES/PHRASES 128 12 TIPS FOR A PERFECT WEEK


OUR FAVORITE THINGS FOR 2019 Looking for that new season upgrade? We’ve carefully hand-selected an assortment of the finest cycling accessories for your perusal.

Edge 520 Plus Garmin If you’re looking for all the GPS bells and whistles for a bike-packing trip, Garmin’s flagship 1030 model is the better option. But while the 520 Plus is smaller and less feature-heavy, we prefer it for everyday riding because it’s easy to use, lightweight, and it still offers all of the connectivity and turn-by-turn navigation options that we need. It’s considerably kinder on the wallet, too!

@garmin

SLR Kit Carbonio Selle Italia This is the latest version of a Selle Italia classic and we absolutely love it. We’re not alone, either, because it’s one the Italian brand’s top sellers. With a sleek profile and CarboKeramic rails, it weighs just 153g while still offering all-day comfort.

@selle_italia 14


RED AXS 12-speed

Vico Carbon

SRAM

Elite

SRAM has made the already amazing eTap groupset even better with the launch of RED eTap AXS. The new system offers a wider gear range, smoother shifts, is capable of running 1x or 2x and has near silent operation. We love it so much we are running it on both our Pinarello Dogma F10s and our Pinarello Grevil+ gravel bikes.

The latest cages from Elite are lighter than ever and also offer improved bottle grip. No wonder most of the world's top professional teams choose them.

@elite_cycling

@sramroad

15


A+V Versa H2O jersey Giordana This amazing piece from our friends at Giordana is lightweight, windproof, highly water resistant, and breathable, too. With taped seams and hydrophobic materials, it’s the perfect jersey for varying conditions and exactly the kind of kit that every cyclist should have in their locker.

@giordanacycling


Shot Matt road shoes Sidi Sidi are the cycling shoes when it comes to history and prestige. The storied Italian cobbler has shod some of the biggest names in bike racing and they remain the shoe of choice for the most discerning riders. The latest version of the Shot model features the sturdy construction, adjustable heel closure, and unrivaled comfort that you’d expect from Sidi, with a range of hot new matt colors.

@sidisport_official

CP-1X sunglasses Roka Roka began in a garage in Texas, with two former Stanford All-American swimmers trying to build the perfect wetsuit. Once that task was conquered, they set their sights (sorry for the pun... we couldn’t help ourselves) on eyewear, with the aim of making some ultra-lightweight shades that didn’t sacrifice optical clarity or style. We think they’ve succeeded.

@rokasports 17


Aether helmet Giro This is the slickest lid on the market right now, and also one of the most advanced. It’s packed full of features, including MIPS Spherical technology, dual-density EPS and a shatter-resistant AURA reinforcing arch. And if all that wasn’t enough to get you interested, you can custom design your own colorway, so you can look great while also being better protected.

@girocycling

Nut butter Clif Bar Normally, we’d stick to the tried and trusted mantra: If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. But Clif Bar has proved us wrong by ripping open our favorite ride snack and stuffing it with nut butter. So to the genius at Clif who came up with this idea, all we can say is “Thank you.”

@clifbar

18


Grevil+ Pinarello What do you get when you combine Pinarello’s unrivaled road racing know-how with big clearances and some fat, grippy rubber? A whole lot of fun, that’s what. The Grevil is a totally unique gravel machine that’s comfortable both on and off the road. It can fit up to a 2,1” 650B tire for the really rough stuff, but with a quick wheel change to something more slippery it’s light and agressive enough to hold its own on the tarmac.

@pinarello_official

EasyFold XT 2 Thule If you’re looking for something that will transport a wide variety of steeds on the back of your auto, then this easy-to-use towbarmounted bike rack from our pals over at Thule is just what you need. It’s fully foldable, has a high load capacity, and offers easy trunk access, even with bikes mounted.

@thule


Race rain bag Scicon Our custom Scicon rain bags are roughly the size of a large shoebox and designed to keep you prepared regardless of what the day brings. Some riders keep the bare minimum in their bag, but the sage veteran will effectively keep a spare (or two!) of everything one might need on a long day: shoe covers, leg warmers, knee warmers, an extra baselayer, arm warmers, gloves of all varieties, vests and jackets, neck gaiters, cycling caps, winter beanies, and even an extra pair of shoes. This small, unassuming piece of kit is designed to sit in the team car, allowing a level of comfort, even on the most uncomfortable of days.

@sciconbags

Buffalo bike World Bicycle Relief We love our Pinarello F10 team bikes, but if you are going to buy just one bike in 2018 we hope it is a WBR Buffalo Bike. For just $147 you can help close the distance to school, work and life in general for people in the developing world. We have seen firsthand how this program is having a positive impact in people’s lives, and knowing we are part of sharing the Power of the Bicycle with others makes our rides all the more sweet. We have proudly supported World Bicycle Relief since the beginning, and to date, the generous inGamba community has raised more than $1 million.

@worldbicyclerelief


Handlebar mug

Luggage tag

Handlebar Coffee

Alessandro Stella

Good coffee, good people and good vibes. That’s why we picked Handlebar as our roasting partner. They do it the way everything should be done: With love.

Alessandro Stella is Italian. He makes things with his hands. He’s a craftsman, nah, he's an artisan. We wear his shoes, and we hold our pants up with his belts. So when we decided we needed fancy leather luggage tags for our guests, we couldn't have gone anywhere else. They make us happy. We know they will make you happy, too.

@handlebarcoffee

Corsa Vittoria Regardless of where we’re riding, we know we can depend on the Vittoria Corsa. Riding over the Portuguese rollers of the Alentejo, climbing and descending the Dolomites or ripping down the white roads of Tuscany, these clinchers have taken everything we have ever thrown at them.

@vittoriatires

454 NSW Carbon Clincher Zipp Zipp 454s are their highest performing wheelset ever. Ever. The sawtooth design is wicked aerodynamic and reduces the wind drag from any and all directions. They’re more stable in a crosswind, faster on the flats, descend like they’re on rails and we can’t stop dreaming about them. Can you say “poppin’?”

@zippspeed


Dogma F10 Disk inGamba edition Pinarello The Pinarello F10 was already the finest steed on the road, with an amazing blend of reassuring handling and aggressive potential. But how did we make our favorite team bike of all time even better for 2019? We added SRAM’s latest 12-speed groupset to match their hydraulic disc brakes and the wicked-fast Zipp 302 carbon wheels.

@pinarello_official



REMEMBERING MONT VENTOUX Fausto Pezzi, who was a sports director with the Mercatone Uno team, remembers that fateful day back in July 1994, when Eros Poli wrote his name into Tour de France history. Words and Photos by Fausto Pezzi 24


It was a lie, of course. I can still hear the radio: “Voici le passage à trois kilomètres du sommet. Eros Poli Eros Poli a six minutes d'avance sur trois coureurs: Richard Virenque, Marco Pantani, Miguel Indurain.” I was terrified that our adventure was nearing an end, but Eros wouldn’t give up. And then we saw the observatory at the top of the mountain. Once he passed the summit, Eros flew downhill and didn’t stop until Carpentras. The party started inside the car before we even crossed the finish line. It was a triumph. To think, that a giant like Eros could climb like that on Ventoux. The French fans were in a trance. It was like he’d won the whole Tour. If you look at the TV footage, you can see our car right behind him as he crossed the line, even though all the team drivers are supposed to pull off on a slip road before the finishing straight. Staying with him was completely forbidden, but we were just so happy, we had to see it right to the end. I still think about it a lot, and I’m thankful to Eros for that memory. He was always a good guy, all the time smiling, I never heard of him having a problem with anyone. He was a pleasure to work with. He was humble, even though he won an Olympic gold medal, and he was a great rider. He always worked hard for his teammates and was kind to everyone. And my father, who was the general manager of the Mercatone Uno team, always thought highly of him. Both as a rider, and as a man.

I can’t believe it’s been 25 years! It still feels like yesterday. I'm very happy to remember this day because it's one of the most beautiful memories I have of all my years in cycling. That stage wasn’t the best for our riders. In ’94, the team was built for sprinters, because we had Mario Cipollini and Adriano Baffi and no great climbers for the mountains. So with Ventoux, the stage to Carpentras looked impossible for us. When Eros went in a solo break, I was driving the team car alongside the mechanic, Stefano Scarselli. We didn’t think for a minute that Eros could have survived that terrible climb. We were sure that the group would catch him at the beginning of Ventoux, but Eros was having a great day, and he went like the wind. At the start of the climb, the peloton was a long way behind us, but the mountains were never the best place for Eros. He drank so many Coca-Colas that I thought he was going to explode. Once he got out of the forest and into the desert that is the top part of Ventoux, it was very warm but Eros was still making good time. We started to believe that something incredible might happen. The great climbers of the Tour were behind us, but fighting hard, and they started to claw back the minutes in a short space of time. But we knew that if Eros could just make it to the top of Ventoux alone, he could beat them to the finish. I remember him asking us: "How much time do I have on the group, and what’s happening behind me?” I just told him: “It’s all OK, Eros, all is quiet, go go go!”

25


As a kid, Matthew Accarrino had dreams of racing bikes for a living. But when fate intervened, he turned his attention to the kitchen and embarked on a culinary career that has seen him develop into one of America's most celebrated young chefs. His San Francisco restaurant, SPQR, won its first Michelin star in 2013, and is now recognized as one of the best in the country. Surprisingly, being around all that food has not slowed him down at all, and he continues to be a wicked-fast bike racer in his spare time.

TOP TIPS FROM A TOP CHEF 26


27


I wanted to be a pro cyclist when I was a kid. My interest in food came from there, from an athlete’s perspective, cooking food as part of that diet. Then I was playing frisbee one day in high school and when I jumped up to catch it I landed funny on my right leg and broke it. That was pretty unexpected. It was because of a bone tumor that had been there since birth, which I had no idea about. I was laid up for a long time, I had a bunch of metal put in, I still have a big scar from the knee up to my hip, and I couldn’t walk properly for a couple of years. It was hard, but I had to give up on the dream of racing bikes for a living. In retrospect, that’s probably a good thing, because I don’t think many of them are making real money doing it. I’m not from a completely non-athletic family, which still amazes me, because so many of the people I see doing sports come from a long line of athletes. But I had a good friend whose father was very into cycling, and he’d get us up at 3am to watch the Tour de France. It wasn’t even live back then, it was a recap, maybe 30 minutes long, it was pretty terrible compared to the coverage we have now. I started riding with them and I really liked it. I saved up some money for my first racing bike and just went from there. He introduced me to the history of cycling at the same time and I fell in love with it; it gave me a great perspective on what cycling really was, beyond just going out for the occasional pedal.

NEVER STOP TRYING TO IMPROVE After that accident, I was asking myself, ‘What do I do now?’ I’d always been interested in food, and I’d worked in restaurants as a kid, I even parked cars at one Italian place when I was around 14. I started cooking, and at every job that I had, from a little restaurant in Montclair, New Jersey, to doing unpaid experience work in downtown New York, everyone told me that I was pretty good at it and that I should go to school. I always took it one step

28

to the next, applying the same discipline that I’d had as a bike rider. Why do you go climb the same hill over and over, or race the same course? You’re always trying to do better than the day before. With cooking, there are a lot of similarities to bike racing. There’s a lot of repetition, you have to be disciplined, and you have to be individually excellent but also able to work with other people to achieve something amazing. I’m wired like that: If I’m going to do something, I have to try to be really good at it. It’s not about beating other people though, it’s about bettering myself, so if I’m trying to get faster on the bike or faster in the kitchen, I’m competing with myself.

KEEP GOING, NO MATTER WHAT HAPPENS I went to Dirty Kanza last year for the first time. My bike was lost in shipping, and all of my kit was with it, so I had nothing. Not even a water bottle, I just had a helmet and shoes. I went around and borrowed, begged and stole what I could to get on the start line of the 100-mile race, which I went on to win on a borrowed bike. I actually went off course for a while, too, because when I got to the halfway checkpoint, the stewards waved me on to the 200-mile course because I was so far ahead of everyone on my route, when I was supposed to turn back around and go the way I’d came. It took me three or four miles to figure out that it wasn’t right. And before the start, I had a guy change the cleats on my shoes, and I guess he didn’t tighten them enough, because when I put them on the cleat came off on the way from the car to the start. I thought the cleat had fallen off, so I went back to the car, got another pair of shoes, clicked in and rode off. It was only at the finish line that I looked at the pedal, and saw that the first cleat was still there, on the underside of the MTB pedal. I must have just clicked into the other side and not noticed. I’m nothing if not determined. I think you have to be if you want to race bikes or do well in cooking.


GET OUT OF YOUR COMFORT ZONE I worked in Italy when I was younger, for a famous, Michelin-starred chef called Antonello Colonna. It was a great experience. In the morning we’d go to a sheep farmer to get the ricotta, to the market for all the vegetables, and to the butcher for all the meat. It’s very different to the States, everything is delivered here, and if you go to a store, it’s a place that does more than one thing. The Italians are so specialized. I used to go foraging for mushrooms with the sommelier, because he knew the best spots, and then we’d go to the restaurant and start prepping for lunch. That’s very different from the States too, because it only goes on for about an hour, after which I’d try to go home for a nap before going back to work at 6.30pm or so to get ready for dinner, which would be from 8pm. No one expects to have lunch at 11am or dinner at 6pm. The cultural expectations are very different. We really only do one seating, even though you were there until the early hours of the morning. The business model here is the total opposite, dinner starts at 5.30pm and goes until 10.30pm, with more turnover. Working there, the way they gathered their ingredients gave me a passion for connecting with people who make good things. A lot of what I do today goes back to that, working with local farms and producers. It makes a big difference.

gain from working with great people, and infused it with my own personality, then I’d have a good shot. I wouldn’t say I was shocked when I eventually got my own star, but I did cry!

DO YOUR OWN THING The star is a huge acknowledgement of your achievement. Keeping it creates a lot of stress for some chefs, but I try not to think about it until the announcement is imminent. At that point, I probably focus on it too much, it keeps me up for a couple of days, but then I go back to normal. I’ve never said to myself, “This is what you need to do to get a Michelin star.” I just focus on doing the best that I can, and what I think is right. So even though I’ve kept it now for seven years, but I don’t think I’m doing anything differently. Obviously the menu changes and we try to get better, but I got the first star because of who I am, and if that was good enough to get it for me the first time, then I don’t see any reason to change. When I go to a restaurant, I’m always interested in what they’re really good at. There’s no point going somewhere with unrealistic expectations. At SPQR, we’re really good at making pasta so we do a fair amount of that, but we also try to use a lot of ingredients that are unique to where we are, so if you come here from somewhere else we can give you something different. I think that makes us interesting.

SET THE BAR HIGH, BUT ALWAYS BE YOURSELF When I started out, we didn’t have many Michelin-starred places in the US. Working for Antonello made me realize how profoundly having that Michelin star had affected his career. It was more than a job, he’d made a life out of being a chef and that star was a huge achievement, a mark of excellence, and something to aspire to. It wasn’t a singular focus though, I certainly wanted it, but I never thought I had to do specific things just to achieve it. I knew that if I did the best I could and applied all of the things I’d learned, the wisdom and experience that you

MATTHEW ACCARRINO PUBLISHED HIS FIRST BOOK, SPQR: MODERN ITALIAN FOOD AND WINE, IN 2012. IN ADDITION TO HIS MICHELIN ACCOLADES, HE WAS NAMED FOOD & WINE MAGAZINE’S “BEST NEW CHEF” IN 2014, AND HIS COOKING REGULARLY GARNERS PRAISE FROM THE TOP FOOD CRITICS IN THE COUNTRY. HE ALSO RIDES WITH INGAMBA, AND IS OUR CHEF ON THE COAST RIDE AND HEALDSBURG TRIPS.

29


WHO WANTS A COOKIE? Recipe by Matthew Accarrino

30


WHO DOESN’T LOVE A COOKIE FROM TIME TO TIME? ESPECIALLY AFTER A LONG RIDE, WITH A NICE CUP OF COFFEE. WE DON’T LIKE TO DO THINGS BY HALVES, HOWEVER, SO ANY OLD COOKIE JUST WOULDN’T DO. WE LIKE OUR COOKIES WITH SOME MICHELIN-STAR FLARE, SO WE ASKED SUPERSTAR CHEF MATTHEW ACCARRINO FOR HIS OWN SPECIAL RECIPE. THANK US LATER.

INGREDIENTS BUTTER: 4 OZ BROWN SUGAR: 3/4 CUP + 2 TBSP EGG: 1 VANILLA EXTRACT: 1/2 TSP FLOUR: 1 CUP BAKING SODA: 1/2 TSP SALT: 1/2 TSP CHOCOLATE, CHIPS OR PISTOLES: 8 OZ PATAGONIA PROVISIONS BANANA BREAKFAST GRAINS OR CRUSHED BANANA CHIPS (OPTIONAL): 1/3 CUP COARSE SEA SALT: TO TASTE

DIFICULTY — EASY

01. Cream the butter and sugar in a mixer fitted with the paddle until light and fluffy.

02. Add in the egg and vanilla, followed by the dry ingredients. 03. Finish the batter with the chocolate and banana grains or pieces if desired. If using chocolate pistoles (small round chocolate pieces), set aside a few ounces to place a pistole on the top of each cookie and coarsely chop the rest.

04. Scoop out balls of dough in your desired size and place them on a lined baking sheet.

05. Top with the chocolate if using, and a sprinkle of coarse sea salt.

06. Bake in a preheated oven at 325 degrees until lightly golden  – about 12-14 minutes.

31


PORTUGAL Welcome to European cycling’s best kept secret. From the cork trees and the arid plains of Alentejo to the verdant hills of the Douro Valley, where some of the world’s most interesting wines are being made, Portugal is a treasure trove of great riding, diverse culture, rich history and incredible flavors. The variety of riding on offer here is stunning. One day you’ll be rolling along on quiet roads through the country’s agricultural heartland, enjoying the charm and the cuisine of its myriad of little towns, while the next you might be working your way through the stunning Serra da Estrela national park, where the country’s highest peak, and all of the stunning views that it provides, awaits you. And farther north, toward Porto, you’re treated to perfect tarmac on empty, winding roads, surrounded by sweeping panoramas of the undulating vineyards that flank the Douro River as it snakes its way out to the Atlantic.

32


33


PERFECT RIDING PARTNERS Like a marraige or a business partnership, finding like-minded cyclists is key to a happy riding relationship. Words by Jim Merithew Illustration by Leonor Zamith



Picking a bike is easy. You’ve got a budget and a rough idea of what you want to do with it, and these days, it’s almost impossible to find a really bad one. Same goes for clothing. Spend as much as you can afford, choose a color that suits, and you’ll be happy. Even selecting a route is easy, what with Strava and the plethora of websites dedicated to cataloging and chronicling the choicest roads in every part of the world. You could drop into somewhere completely new, with no one to guide you, and after 20 minutes of Googling you’d be an expert on the local terrain. Sure, some bikes and bibs and roads are better than others, but it’s really easy to settle on a perfectly enjoyable combination of the three in no time. No, there’s only one really tough choice facing modern cyclists, and it is one that has vexed since people started turning pedals for fun back in the 19th century: Who do you want to ride with? There’s no single solution for this conundrum, no universal truth. It’s not about being fast or slow, “good” or “bad,”either. The matter at hand here is all about personality and personal preference. One rider’s dream is another’s nightmare. There’s a good chance that every one of us is both at the same time. So what kind are you? I’ve compiled a list, but it’s by no means exhaustive. Are there other species that I’ve forgotten? Answers on a postcard, please.

THE SIGHTSEER: I know this rider personality type, as my wife sits firmly in this camp. It matters not what continent we are on, the weather conditions, how many kilometers we have ridden or how many meters we have climbed, the sightseer is busily pointing out the flowers and the trees, the fauna and the felines. They see things along the road I would never notice in a million years. They spot the trickling creek, the hoof prints in the mud and the fresh apple pie sitting on the windowsill of the Tuscan Villa. The one thing to be learned from the sightseer, beside keeping your eyes open, is that there is nothing so disheartening as someone starting a conversation with you about the butterflies as you try to crank your way up a 15-percent grade.

SUBSET, THE HORTICULTURIST: Now take the sightseer and add in a bit of actual knowledge and you have yourself one crazy day in the saddle. This type not only spots the giant bird atop the olive tree, but they can tell you that is such-and-such a woodpecker only found in central Portugal and certain parts of Spain and they are this type of olive tree whose olives are used to produce the local olive oil. This goes on for miles and miles, as they share the names of local plant life, geographical phenomenons and wildlife.

36


THE DATA JUNKY: Maximal heart rate, Lactate Threshold, 30-second power and average speed are all items this personality type lives to pour over. They own the latest power meters, cycling computers and have subscriptions to all the software programs. They love their Training Peaks and their Strava. They parce their segments and give kudos out like Halloween candy.

THE SANDBAGGER: “I really haven’t been riding that much.” “I am just coming back from injury” “I’m not really an athlete.” The sandbagger is one of the trickier riders to deal with, as you never really know what you are getting yourself into. The sandbagger is famous for doing “off the record” interval training and secret weight loss. They will put the wood to you on Tuesday and start the whole “I used up all my credits, yesterday” story.

SUBSET, THE WAYPOINT WACKO: Now take your Data Junky and turn their nerd factor up to 11. (It goes to 11. That’s one more). They not only love to look at the data after a ride, but they can be found dissecting a route before it is ridden. They can tell you the average gradient of a climb, the places during the climb where the road kicks up and when you might be able to get a slight break as the road levels. Their amazing skills at this dissection is usually only appreciated by select few fellow nerds.

SUBSET, THE SECRET TRAINER: This the Sandbagger’s dirtier cousin. They are doing two-a-days on Zwift and hill repeats on the weekends and preparing their “sad story” for the next day’s ride.

THE CLIMBER: Most of the time you can spot these riding partners right off. You want to ask them if they need a donut or 12 and you wonder where they buy their kit in sizes so small. They are the climbers. Tiny, malnourished individuals who hide behind the pack all day until the road turns up and then away they go. Occasionally, you will come upon an unexpected climber. You know the one, they look like they shouldn’t be able to climb so well, but somehow they defy their body type and they ascend like angels. I hate these the most.

THE VIRTUAL REALITY RIDER: “I prefer to ride indoors,” said nobody ever. And then smart trainers and Zwift came along, and everything changed. Now there is a growing tribe of riders who actually enjoy cycling inside, deep in their pain caves, chasing strangers from the other side of the globe around imaginary courses. They are fascinating, but more study is required.

SUBSET, THE CALORIE COUNTER: They bring their scales to the kitchen at dinner, they know the caloric value of Pici Pomodoro and they are willing to share all the details as you question your own dietary choices. They are lovely.

SUBSET, THE AGORAPHOBIC: The vampires of the cycling world. Afraid to go outside, for fear of getting some fresh air and some companionship. When they do finally go out, their riding abilities are so atrophied they can barely hold a line, let alone stand up while pedaling.

37


THE DENIAL DEMON: These people are really not prepared for a trip to the Dolomites. Actually, they’re not really prepared for any bike ride over 25 miles. But this doesn’t stop them. They will be fine. They are gamers. They have ridden long, hard miles before and they will ride long hard miles again. But today will be a doozy. THE BICYCLE BOFFIN: “Did you see Park just released their new bottom bracket tool? It is going to be awesome since I just bought the new 44 tooth cog for my gravel bike. And I’m trying out several sets of the new Vittoria tires to see which ones give me the best grip while still keeping my bike under 14 pounds. And I was reading in the new issue of Peloton, there might be even bigger derailleur pulleys than I am running right now on my Arizona bike.” You get the idea.

But more than likely, they are going to rip your legs off with their innate athletic ability. Reminding us once again not to judge a book by its cover.

SUBSET, THE TRIATHLETE: They shave everything. Literally. They think riding a bicycle while soaking wet and in a speedo is a perfectly fine day on the bike. And for some reason, they will hammer a bicycle for hours and then suddenly, and without provocation, put it down and start running. We love to make fun of them and the myriad of material is endless, but we have found more than a few of them to be excellent riding partners.

SUBSET, THE TECH NERD: We love these nerds. We don’t understand what they are saying, but they can usually tell us the biggest cog we can possibly run with our SRAM eTap WiFli derailleur and whether or not we can squeeze the new 28mm tires into our Pinarello F10. They can talk gear ratios, wheelbase and tire pressure all day long. Long live the nerds.

THE ATTACKER: The road turns up, or the city limit sign is in the distance, or the wind suddenly turns to be at your back, or for no evident reason at all, these riders jump. They turn on the Wattage Cottage and up the road they go. You are forced to either respond or be left for dead. It can make for a very exciting ride and it will definitely make your coach wonder what the hell you were doing.

SUBSET, THE WHEEL SUCKER: You don’t see a lot of this riding partner. Because he is always right behind you.

THE COVERT CRUSHER: This might be the most disheartening of all riding partners. They look a little lumpy, their legs are hairier than chewbacca and their kit is a mismatched mess. They can’t seem to get their helmet on straight and they oil their chains with motor oil.

SILENT BOB: Ask all the questions you want, visit all the historical landmarks in all the land, and drink the most delightful of frappuccinos the city has to offer, this riding partner won’t utter a word. They thrive on silence. They lay in wait for the moment when everyone else is forced to stop talking because of the effort and they attack.

38


THE SINGER: Some riders just can’t stand the silence that comes with the many hours spent of the bike. They get particularly weirded out when partnered with a Silent Bob. They attempt to start many a conversation, but when this fails they start to sing. “Busted flat in Baton Rouge, waitin’on a train. And I’s feelin’near as faded as my jeans.”

THE UNICORN: The rider who knows when it is time to talk, when it time to sing and when it is time for silence. They know a little bit about a lot of things and they help you enjoy all aspects of your ride. They know the right places to apply the pain and when you need them to back off the gas just a bit. They share in the excitement of your data and poke you when you are slacking. They help you dial in your bike and your body, without judgement or shame. And they, like you, love the bicycle, bicycle riding and dreaming of bicycle rides. The perfect bicycle ride partner could be you.

39


#BESTWEEKEVER This is what happens when you combine old and new friends, lots of fast miles, tons of smiles‌ and a lot of wine. Words and Photos by Heidi Swift



Trish saw them first. We were ascending a gradual climb on a ridge that overlooked a sweeping valley below. Far in the distance, the Douro River carved a sinewy arc of blue into the landscape. The hillside to our right cascaded ever downward, etched with the parallel brown and green lines of the region’s famous terraced vineyards. There were farmers off in the distance somewhere between where the vineyards ended and where the Douro rolled through. They’d stopped what they were doing and they were waving. Big, two-armed waves – like survivors on an island who’d just spotted an airplane in the sky. From where we were they were no bigger than tiny dots with flailing arms. It was impossible to even tell if they were men or women, adults or children. We stopped our chatter and listened and through the warm air of Portugal’s spring we could hear them calling out. I sat up and raised my hands over my head, returning the greeting. “What are they saying?” I asked Manuel. “They are cheering us on.” He smiled and then we all smiled. We called back the only Portuguese words we’d picked up, “Olá! Bom dia!” We always said Bom Dia even when we should have said Boa tarde. It didn’t matter. Even if they could tell what we were saying, they wouldn’t have cared. We were all out in the middle of nowhere in the Portuguese countryside, enjoying the kind of spontaneous human connection that makes you believe the world is fundamentally good. On a steep climb just after coffee in São João Da Pesqueira we’d had a heckler who called out to me in reference to the large gap that had opened in front of me, “C’mon! Get going! What are you doing? Sleeping?” and after Manuel translated, I’d guffawed despite my gasping effort. On another day as we rolled through Samodáes we passed by a mob of 50 schoolchildren who erupted, fists in the air, screaming like it was the Tour de France. To the untrained eye, I suppose we might have looked like a pro team; matching kits, matching Pinarello F10s, follow car, soigneur re-stocking our bottle cages with fresh bidons at every coffee stop. And it didn’t hurt to have two-time Portuguese National Champion Manuel Cardoso at the front of the paceline. We’d come from all parts of the United States; Virginia, North Carolina, Arizona, Oregon and New York. Some of us had ridden together before, some of us hadn’t. We were united by simple goals - to ride hard and laugh harder; to leave fitter than we’d arrived; to experience the wonder of what is possibly the most underrated cycling paradise in the world. We were a group of women on a great adventure with inGamba, discovering parts of Portugal rarely experienced by tourists, eating all the pastries, drinking all of the wine and generally having the #bestweekever together. And along the way, we discovered something else: The magic of camaraderie and the mysterious alchemy that transforms happiness into watts.













ITALY The Italians like to call their homeland “Il bel paese,” the beautiful country. They might be a little biased, but it’s hard to disagree. From the peaks of the Alps and the Dolomites in the north to the southern sunbaked, sandy shores, Italy is a land of breathtaking panoramas, a wealth of culture, and rich history. It was Tuscany that first fired the inGamba imagination, with its alluring, verdant landscape rolling out in every direction as far as the eye can see, promising a lifetime’s worth of discovery, on and off the bike. There are countless backroads to explore and hundreds of charming little towns and villages to discover, with some kind of culinary delight waiting around almost every corner. Farther north, the drama of the mountains draws you in, promising a plethora of unforgettable views and an unrivaled cycling tradition that is inextricably linked to the sport’s biggest races and its legendary superstars. Italy’s great mountain ranges are about more than just climbing, however. They’re also home to warm and welcoming people who boast their own unique food and wine culture. By contrast, our adventures down south venture off the beaten track as far as most cyclists are concerned. Sardinia, a jewel of an island surrounded by the glistening Mediterranean, is like nowhere else on earth, offering everything from jetset glamour along the coastline to a rugged, ancient interior, where communities in the sparsely populated mountains still look much like they did hundreds of years ago. And who could forget Puglia? The heel of the peninsula’s boot has been a favorite amongst Italians for so long and now looks set to become one of Europe’s most fashionable destinations.

54


55


In his 20s, José António Uva studied at the prestigious ESCP Europe business school in Paris and worked in the hectic world of London finance. He never dreamed that it would all lead back to his family’s ancestral farm in Alentejo. But with patience and a lot of hard work, he has transformed a crumbling property in southern Portugal into one of Europe’s most unique, and enchanting, destinations.

By José Uva, in conversation with Colin O’Brien 56


SÃO LOURENÇO DO BARROCAL 57


For a long time, Barrocal was something of a myth for me. The year I was born, 1975, the property was nationalized. Portugal had become a democracy in ’74, and after the first elections, a party with some very revolutionary ideas was elected into government. By decree, they nationalized banking, industry, and farming. At first, my father tried to resist, but when a warrant was issued for his arrest he had to flee the country, first to Spain and then for a time in Brazil. We kept our family home nearby, and I’d hear stories, about it being in the family for eight generations, about things my family had done there, but for the first 10 years of my life it was a place where we couldn’t go. When we got it back, it was completely derelict. There were cats and pigeons and nothing else. By then, we were completely settled in Lisbon, I was going to the American school in the city and after that I studied in Paris before working in London, in banking, as one did in the late 1990s. In 2002, I decided to spend some time in Portugal. I didn’t know if it was going to be long-term or not at that stage. I went to Barrocal to see it with different eyes, trying to separate the reality of it from the myth, to see what it was really like. I started working with a historian, an archeologist, a landscape architect, a geologist, anyone who had something to say about the place, who could help me understand the place a bit better. Looking into the history was incredible. During my research, I found that Oxford University had actually published a study called Portuguese rural society in the 1970s, written by José Cutileiro, a well-known Portuguese academic and diplomat, and it focused exclusively on the farm. Further back, I found out that the area also had a very rich neolithic history. We have a 7,000 year-old standing stone on the property, and 16 dolmens, which are megalithic tombs dating from somewhere between 4,000 and 3,000BC. Learning about everything that had happened to that landscape between then and now was fascinating. There’s a small house that’s now by the pool. I moved into it and started some small projects, and after two years, I had most of the masterplan for what I wanted Barrocal to be. I knew I had to make it happen. I was young, 28, and I wasn’t sure how I was going to make it happen, but I was certain that it would work. 58


My finance background helped me to understand the numbers involved and how to make the deals, and when the financial crisis hit in 2007 we still hadn’t started building, which in retrospect was a stroke of luck. It gave us time to rethink things and to plan it better, so that we were really ready for it when we eventually began. It was important to me that the place be authentic, for everything to be done in an honest vernacular, not to be some kind of pastiche or reinterpretation of a family memory. It’s for today’s world, the life we have now. I didn’t want to create a theme park dedicated to an old farming community. What was originally supposed to take four or five years ended up taking 14 before we opened, but it was worth it. We were very fortunate for it to become so successful so quickly, but I think that’s a reflection of the work we’ve put into it and the great people that we have working for us. There are around 100 local people involved in Barrocal now. Most of them had no idea about the hospitality industry beforehand, but we brought in the right people to create the right culture, so that it’s not just another resort, it has its own identity and sense of itself. Alentejo is a very beautiful place, it takes up a third of Portugal but only has five percent of the population. It’s a place that never really went through industrialization, so craftsmanship still lives there and most things are still done by hand. For many years, that held it back, it was the exact opposite of a competitive advantage, but now it’s what makes it special. It’s something to be treasured. Everything there has a sense of place and of heritage. We work with hundreds of craftsman, we don’t just buy things off the shelf, and in the restaurant if we don’t produce it ourselves, it comes from someone close by. We’re only halfway there, because I think it will be another 15 years before we have the completely self-sufficient estate that I want, but we’re doing the best we can and it’s very rewarding, it’s not just some hippy ideal. To do the things we want to do, you need time. You need 10 years to make proper wine. To create an olive grove, you need two generations, and it takes even longer if you want to grow cork oaks. That’s the sense of time that this place needs. We need to be patient, and think 59




about things in a different way. We’re making other things that are quicker, of course, such as our own vinegars, beef, and honey, but it’s all trial and error, and it took us four years to figure out exactly what type of tomato was best suited to soil in our vegetable garden and the high temperatures that are common here in summer. Back in the day, people understood this, but the world’s way of thinking has changed and we have to relearn this attitude. Take a bank, for example, they want to lend you money for three or four years for a business project, but that’s not the lifecycle in the countryside. We’ve just planted almond trees, and it will take a decade to get proper almonds. It’s the same with our people. It takes a long time to develop the kind of atmosphere we want with our staff. They have an innate sense of hospitality, but they didn’t study the industry in university and it takes a while to blend those local characteristics with the level of service that we want to provide. It was all working when my family left, but within 10 years it had come apart. There were people squatting there, and if you’ve ever been to an occupied space like that, you’ll know what I mean when I say that while the ideals might have been there, the organization was not. When we got it back, we’d go there on weekends from time to time, but we weren’t a farming family anymore. We did what it took to keep the place going, but it was minimal, selling stuff to the local co-op. We weren’t trying to make anything, we were just trying to keep it from total collapse. During that time I was also working with a fund, investing in and developing tourism properties. That taught me a lot about hospi­ tality, both in terms of how the industry works, and also what I did and didn’t want to do at Barrocal. I was idealistic and I had a lot of plans, but at that point I still didn’t know what it took to develop a property of 10,000 square meters, so I was eager to work with people who had that expertise. Even to get to a basic scheme design for the property took more than two years of constant work. The scale of the effort involved was incredible. I think the architect made around eight fully designed layouts for the place before we approved one. It took so long for it all to click. It had to happen one building at

62


63


64


a time. the restaurant was in six different places before we found the right spot, which used to be the farm’s dog house. Animals were all on the south side of the property, so that the prevailing north wind would take the smell away. Where we have the shop, that was for chickens, but there were also pigeons, sheep, cows, horses, and pigs. It was all really well thought out. What I came to learn with time was that even though it had been built in a kind of colloquial, popular architecture, the original builders really knew what they were doing. There was a great erudition to it all, a beautiful functionality, based on generations of knowledge. Obviously, we’ve focused more on the aesthetic aspects and brought a new refinement, but we had to keep the place’s original soul. The only basic rule we had was not to change the facades and the foundational structures. I think it’s better to be either a contemporary project or an honest refurbishment, there’s no point in creating some kind of hybrid. If you’re building from scratch, there’s no point in making buildings like ours, but if you have 250year old farmhouses, you should keep them as they were meant to be. Given the family connections, this might seem strange, but I didn’t do it for nostalgic reasons or the purpose of family heritage. I did it because I genuinely believe it’s a special place and I wanted to share it with others. We have a unique history and I want people to see that. It’s something that you can’t find anywhere else. I’m happy to see that people in Portugal are finally starting to value our culture and celebrate our place for what it is. In the past, many people just tried to copy and paste from abroad, but it doesn’t make sense. You can’t duplicate that cool restaurant or hotel that you saw in London. It won’t work. You have to do your own thing.

SÃO LOURENÇO DO BARROCAL IS A CENTURIES-OLD FARMING ESTATE IN ALENTEJO, PORTUGAL THAT HAS BEEN LOVINGLY BROUGHT BACK TO LIFE AS A LUXURY HOTEL. IT IS REGULARLY RANKED AMONG THE BEST SPA HOTELS IN THE WORLD BY LEADING PUBLICATIONS LIKE CONDÉ NAST TRAVELER AND MONOCLE. 65


WAITING FOR [ANOTHER] GREG Spending time with America’s greatest bike racer made Guy Andrews long for a time when the pro peloton had a bit more personality.

66

When people think of American bike racers, Lance Armstrong and Greg LeMond are the first two to come to mind. Many see them as similar characters: Driven, hardnosed, and unremitting. Some see them as damaged. The truth is probably in-between. I wrote a book with Greg, but I didn’t really write about him. I didn’t want to. I knew his story before cycling and after cycling and it didn’t really interest me. I saw most of it as private anyway. It was his career as a bike racer that really fascinated me, not just his palmarès, but also the fact that he changed everything in cycling, from bike technology to team management. He was the unlikely catalyst for change from a parochial backwater sport into today’s worldwide media circus. During our time together, I learned a lot more about him. I learned that he had tons of respect and admiration for his teammates and rivals, how much he loved the cobbled classics, and how some of the history of his career has often been ignored, his ability enabled countless riders to break into the closed shop of European cycling and change the whole structure for good. Then there was the backstory. When he and his wife Kathy came over to Europe with next to nothing, he fought to get in the team, put up with favoritism, xenophobia, and the language barrier. People say he had it easy, but when you hear them talk about those times, it sounds like the dark ages.



I first interviewed him in 2007, at the height of his fight with Armstrong. I was surprised by how much energy he still had for the sport. He wasn’t jaded by the noise, he was engaging, charming and delighted to talk about cycling in the 1980s. I then decided I’d like to do a book about his racing career, so I went to Pressesports HQ in Paris and had a look through the archive. There are thousands of racing images of him. On the bike, he was usually on the attack. Off it, he was usually laughing. To give the project life, I thought a pictorial tribute was the right route, because sometimes the cliché is true: A picture paints a thousand words. I also realized there was a lot more to Greg than the Tour de France. The title of the book, Yellow Jersey Racer, is a little tongue in cheek, because he wasn’t the one-trick pony that people paint him up to be. But it’s also fitting, not only because of his success at the Tour, but also because at his first race, he wore a yellow jersey (which obviously got him a lot of abuse). A few years later, I was sat in a hotel in Paris with Kathy, and she was apologizing profusely, because Greg was late. That wasn’t unusual. Those who know him will tell you that Greg has a habit of running late. Hours before he’d gone to see some random French bike dealer miles away, and he’d taken a Velib city bike to get there. Eventually, he rushed into the lobby of the hotel, sweaty and apologetic. He was late for me – and even later for the car that

68

was waiting to take him to Roland Garros for the tennis. No matter, he still sat to chat for an hour or so. The book was stalling, so we agreed to meet at his house in Minneapolis. That would be easier, we agreed. No distractions. Fast forward a few months and I was in an insipid Minneapolis hotel, jet-lagged and staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep. Greg wasn’t home. He’d been at a bike show, ended up staying over for a few days. Kathy assured me he’d be there soon, but I was conflicted and worried about whether or not I could make the book at all. It’s hard to be mad at Greg though. In the time he was away, Kathy showed me around their vast collection of racing memorabilia. Old bikes, skin suits, jerseys (literally boxes of them), aero helmets, pedals, postcards, and a lifetime of junk that would probably set eBay on fire. So I made myself useful, raiding the photo albums that Kathy kept finding in the the basement, and digging around in crates of old magazines and newspapers. Back home in England, that’s what’s known as a busman’s holiday. When Greg finally appeared, he was again apologetic. He was also very keen to get started. We spent the first few hours dragging all his bikes out of the cellar to photograph them outside. We had the time trial bike that he won the 1989 Tour de France on and he was telling me all about how he thought Cyrille Guimard was the real genius of professional cycling… and in all my years of writing


about cycling, this was one of the few moments when I was lost for words. If you’d told the teenage me that I’d be doing this 30 years after first seeing the Tour de France, I’d have laughed. A few days later, we were in his kitchen discussing motor doping – he had a bike made and he knew what it was capable of – and it was proof enough for him that ‘something’was going on in professional cycling. I was less than convinced. Kathy and Greg looked at me as if I wasn’t paying attention. Turned out, none of us were. A week or so later, Femke Van den Driessche, the Belgian cyclocross racer, got busted with a motor in her bike. I felt more than a little naive. In cycling, the more bizarre the story becomes, the harder it is to understand how we got here. But it’s really always been this way. Racing is cheating: You cheat the wind, draft whatever moto or team car you can, cheat your rivals into thinking you’re finished, cheat with the sticky bottle, you cut corners, lighten up your bike. The so-called marginal gains. Call it what you will, cycling is far from corinthian. I was never a huge fan of Greg when he was racing. I’d always supported the riders who had little or no chance of winning the race, so the GC contenders were never of any interest to me. But I realize now that he was the type of rider I’d always prefered: The underdog, the

misun­derstood maverick, the outsider. And everyone I spoke to when I was researching the book, even those who he’d had issues with or were his bitter rivals, said that Greg was a really decent human being. He always stood up for the little guys, liked to joke around, and was always the life and soul of the party. Perhaps the most enlightening experience of finding out about Greg LeMond happened when we launched the book in Chicago. Andy Hampsten, the 1988 Giro d’Italia winner, had told me that when they were racing on the same team, Greg could hold up an autograph line for hours. Few people I’ve met have his ability to talk, talk, and then talk some more. True to form, the whole evening had been about Greg talking to people. The book signing session took up around three hours, because he spoke to everyone – he even signed a bike courier’s arm, who then rushed off to an all-night tattoo parlor to have it inked-in. We went for a bite to eat afterwards. It was very late and when we came out of the restaurant, there was a homeless guy on the sidewalk asking for money. Whilst most of our party ignored him and shuffled past, embarrassingly with their hands in their pockets, Greg stopped and started talking to him. He totally engaged with the guy, chatting about normal stuff, the part of Chicago where he was sleeping rough, how cold it gets at night. What stuck with me was that it wasn’t small talk – it was genuine conversation.

69





He gave him some money and as we walked away, he said to me that most “lost” people don’t need drugs, or alcohol or religion, they just need someone to talk to them. 1989 was undoubtedly the best Tour de France in recent history. If you don’t know it, take the time to watch the race on YouTube, it’s well worth it. Listening to Kathy and Greg recall that final day is incredible, it was clearly their once in a lifetime moment that they treasure the most. Even still, Greg’s respect and warmth for Laurent Fignon is obvious, they fought a wonderful race and remained friends despite the painful ending. Fignon had a similar attitude to Greg when it came to bike racing too. In his excellent book, We Were Young and Carefree: The Autobiography of Laurent Fignon, he talked candidly about cycling, in a way that few have done before or since. His open war on the French press culminated in a heart-on-his-sleeve bottle throwing incident at a group of photo-motos at the Tour, even when his form was poor he still had the strength to direct his frustrations at those who revelled in his downfall. There’s another scene on YouTube that I watched again and again whilst I was researching the book. It’s from the 1985 Tour de France. Greg has just been told on the road that he can’t go for the win in the Tour that day. His late escape with Stephen Roche had its wings clipped by the La Vie Claire bosses, because they wanted Bernard Hinault, Greg’s team leader, to win.

The part I love was filmed shortly after the stage, behind the finish line, away from the spectators but still in front of the cameras and huddle of journalists. He’s openly arguing with his Directeur Sportif Paul Koechli and he’s getting nowhere. Frustration, rage, and betrayal are etched across his face. He’s uncomfortable and looks as if he’s about to punch someone, anyone, but most probably, Koechli. Greg’s mad; he’s mad in a way that makes him look a little like a teenager who’s just been grounded, with injustice eating him up inside. And if he knew then what we know now, he’d probably be even madder. I love it because he gave a shit enough to speak his mind, no matter who was there to hear it. We’ve recently finished a translation of Marco Pastonesi’s book on Marco Pantani. In the text several of his friends and teammates describe their experiences with him and his legacy. The tragedy of Pantani’s tale is that we learn what happens when everything leaves him and when it all goes wrong. Yet for all his faults, and whatever you think of him, Pantani’s joy was how he raced and the respect that his peers had for him, how he dealt with people and how he respected his rivals, in the same way Greg did. The thing that stands out in all three cycling biographies – LeMond, Fignon, Pantani – is their character, their ability, and their vulnerability. The way they wore their hearts on their sleeves, on and off the bike, and the way their rivalries

73


spilled over into the rest of their lives. It’s the complicated warts-and-all world of cycle racing, laid bare. Maybe this vulnerability and honesty makes riders like that seem a little more human, like one of us, but my point is that in these days of the press-trained robot rider, nobody would dare to express any emotion in front of journalists, never mind throw a bottle at them. Riders don’t speak out anymore, or stand up for one another or, it seems, race with their own instincts. Disagreements within teams are now sorted out behind the heavy curtains of the team buses and we rarely see the fights, the rivalries and bitter struggles for leadership. It makes you realize that cycle racing is less emotional than it used to be – and as a result there’s less spirit in it. Perhaps that’s why the races seem to have lost their edge, and with it, so much of the drama, too.

GUY ANDREWS IS A WRITER AND EDITOR. HE WAS THE FOUNDER OF ROULEUR MAGAZINE, AND CO-FOUNDER OF THE AWARD-WINNING BLUETRAIN PUBLISHING. HIS MOST RECENT BOOKS INCLUDE MAGNUM CYCLING AND GREG LEMOND: YELLOW JERSEY RACER. 74




FOR THE LOVE OF CALVES They’re like snowflakes, no two are alike. There are great big fat ones and long, lean skinny ones. There are veiny ones and there are baby smooth ones. There are those that separate into a great big “W” and those which remain a big solid, elongated “O.” And I’m obsessed with all of them. The calves. For clarity, this is not a sexual thing. I’m just as excited when I see great calves on the boys, as when I see them on the girls. It’s a little weird. I know. But I don’t care. All my life, people have been pointing out their favorite body parts. Scotty has the cutest little cheeks. Greggy has the most adorable little dimples. Suzy has the perfect pigtails. As I got older, the body parts got a little more, shall we say, adult. When I was in college, I had a really good friend who said she’d never date a guy if he had “weak” shoulders. And another, who dumped a guy because he had “unkind” eyes. My love of calves is a little more nuanced. There’s no hard and fast rule to it. It’s a little more like my friend

Words by Jim Merithew Illustration by Inês Machado

Lorenza’s obsession with olive oil. Lorenza owns the Castello di Ama winery in Tuscany, and she says it’s OK if you don’t love her wines. She figures that wine is a subjective thing. Maybe you prefer a California Cabernet over her Chianti Classico, or a Grüner Veltliner over her new Purple Rose Rosato. That’s fine with her. She understands. But if you don’t love her olive oil, the one she produces with her own olives and a healthy dose of love and passion… well that just makes you a heathen. To me, the other muscle groups are like wines. Subjective. Maybe you’re into pectorals, or perhaps you’re a connoisseur of the biceps and triceps. You’re a glutes guy? That’s cool. It’s a personal thing. But the calves? The calves are objectively wonderful. That’s been scientifically proven somewhere, I’m sure. Just like Lorenza’s olive oil, they’re universal. So what exactly constitutes amazing calves? They come in so many different shapes and sizes I don’t wish to attempt to define what is and what is not the perfect set of calves, but I think the US Supreme Court Justice Potter Stewart said it quite well, “I know it when I see it.”

77


PROVENCE Home to some of the Tour de France’s most iconic beauty, and one of its most feared beasts, riding in Provence is all about sleepy little towns, seemingly endless fields of lavender, the rugged, gruelling allure of Mont Ventoux, and everything in between. Ever since the Greeks first established the city of Marseilles more than 2,600 years ago, this part of France has been attracting foreign explorers from far and wide. The Romans dubbed it Provincia Nostra, ‘Our Province,’ in 118BC, a name that stuck, and that is still remarkably apt for the modern cyclist who will arrive to find a terrain at once both familiar and completely new, full of classic roads inextricably linked to the world’s biggest bike race, and boasting plenty of lesser-known wonders too. This is a land of idyllic countryside, vibrantly colored in purple and green, dotted with enchanting hilltop villages and bustling local markets. Expect to indulge in some of the area’s lusted-after wines and its rich, mouth-watering cuisine, and of course, to discover a rich tapestry of cycling heritage that makes it an unmissable experience for any serious rider.

78


79


CRUSHING THE CALIFORNIA COAST


San Francisco to LA. A total distance of 792 kilometers with 8,685 meters of climbing, over five days, in January. Sounds like fun, right? The Coast Ride is a familiar fixture on the cycling calendar if you’re from California, but we like to do things a little differently. For starters, we have a full European crew of mechanics, soigneurs and guides with some tricked-out support cars and a team bus. Of course, we also bring a fleet of wicked-fast Pinarellos. Then we add a sprinkling of ex-pro riders for support, and finish it off by inviting a Michelin-starred chef along for the ride. We can’t promise good weather, but plenty of smiles and breathtaking views are guaranteed. Don’t take our word for it though. Here are some first-hand opinions from riders, right after the finish-line.

Photos by Stephen Lam



This was a dream ride. It was super hard, and I can’t believe I made it. I rode almost 800 kilometers in five days, with a lot of help from the guides. The support was just amazing. One of the highlights was motor pacing when we were chasing the front group with Manuel! That was a new experience. The inGamba staff is just a dream team. The more I suffer, the more I like it, that’s just my kind of perfect vacation. But my friends at home think I’m crazy! I’ll definitely be back, and I’ll bring some people with me. — Elaine Soucy


The whole ride went really well. There were ups and downs, but my fitness bluff was never called completely. I cracked a little on the second-last day, but I recovered and made it to the end in one piece. My soft bits are a little tender though, so my advice is: “Use that chamois cream, kids!” It’s important stuff on a ride like this. This was my first time on the Coast Ride and my expectations were blown away. I knew the area a bit, but there’s nothing like riding roads like these with a big group of fast riders. I got to do almost 800 kilometers with some old friends, and that’s special. My highlight was day two, riding in the pouring rain with Eamon and Ted King. — Jay Liddell




I’m from Yorkshire in England, and this was my first time in California. It was also my first time on an inGamba trip. It was awesome. The riding was hard, the scenery was spectacular, and the people were fantastic. The pace of the group was phenomenal, and it was a lot of fun sucking those wheels. I couldn’t pick a single favorite moment from the trip, but I could tell you my least favorite – there was a climb on the second-last day that hit about 17.5 percent gradient, after 100 miles of riding. That was hard work. California has been great, it lived up to all of my expectations. For years, I’ve had this image of what it would be like to ride along the coast here, with all those great ocean views, and it was just like I’d pictured it. It was incredible. And everyone from inGamba took really good care of me. The whole thing was great, what I’d call “Type two fun,” the kind you enjoy more after the event! — Johnny Marston



I’ve ridden in California before, in San Diego and LA, but this was my first time with inGamba. The Coast Ride was great, it’s a good time of the year to do it, great winter training, getting some base miles in. I’m from Canada, so I haven’t been riding outside for a few months and this was a nice break from the turbo trainer and Zwift. Getting out of the rain was probably my favorite part! In general, I think it’s good to get these kind of long rides in, eight hours on the bike, it’s good for the soul. I can’t think of any negatives, the whole thing was good, the food and wine were excellent, and the bike has been great. I loved the food. We had a picnic one night and the food was so good, that was a highlight. I’d recommend it to all of my friends. I’ve actually already sent out a few emails suggesting a trip in Portugal or the Dolomites. — Ray Leung


The riding was amazing. There was one wet day when it got a little slippy, but other than that it was great. I hate being cold, terrified of it, but I put on about seven layers and it was OK. Being able to ride in a fast group with a lot of fit and experienced people was the highlight of the trip for me. A lot of the time, group rides don’t have this caliber of rider, and it was great to be out riding with people who can make you feel safe but challenged at the same time. That balance is not easy to come by and I think it’s one of the real attractions of riding with inGamba. I live in California and I know these roads, but it never gets old, it’s an endless up and down, twisting and turning course. It’s never boring. — Matthew Accarrino




The whole trip went so well. It was the hardest ride I’ve ever done, but it was also the most fun. The conditions were tough at times, and it was a challenge to keep up with some of these guys, but it was a lot of fun. This was different to most inGamba trips because you’re getting challenged all the time, but I like to push myself. At the end of every day I thought, “Maybe I’ll get in the van tomorrow,” but when it came time to ride the next morning I’d get on the bike and feel better and better throughout the day, and by the end I was always glad that I’d done it. The food was amazing. Having a chef with us the whole trip was great. You don’t go hungry, that’s for sure. On the third day, coming through Big Sur in the rain, I just kept thinking, “just get to lunch.” Riding those roads in the rain, descending, that was tough but everyone did it and no one crashed, and I think that’s a testament to how good everyone is and to the skills of the inGamba guides. I always like to ride on Manuel’s wheel; he’s so strong and steady, you don’t ever have to worry about him, once you’re behind him it’s all good. — Sky Hanson






GAMBRINUS This slice of Lisbon’s past is the perfect tonic to our overly trendy present. Words by Colin O’Brien Photos by Jim Merithew



Whenever I’m in Lisbon, Gambrinus is the first place I go. I was first introduced to it by inGamba’s founder, João Correia, who has been a patron since he was in short pants, when his grandfather was a regular. João’s a good man to have around when it’s time for dinner, and though we’ve eaten together in plenty of memorable places around the world, few have made the same impression. I’ve been there with João and his friends, and I’ve been there without him, taking full credit for finding the place while looking over my shoulder to make sure he wasn’t there and about to call out my bullshit. I’ve been there to celebrate birthdays, for quick drinks, and for long nights out that involved mountains of food and too much wine. Which is impressive, because in a dozen visits, I’ve never made it as far as the dining room. I leave that to the loud Russians and to the old money in fur. No, the bar is where you want to be, sat on a plush leather stool at the long counter, with its impeccably white place mats and old silver cutlery, where you’re as likely to be rubbing shoulders with some local workmen enjoying a beer and talking about soccer as some welldressed businessmen, exploring the considerable wine list and testing the limits of their expense account. There’s an ice counter by the door, overflowing with oysters, lobster, crab and whatever else the city’s fisherman have brought up out of the Atlantic that day. But to start, there’s always something more humble: Toast, slathered thick with salty butter, melted and translucent, a coating of golden goodness that covers every inch of the bread. After that come plates of wonderful shrimp, generously seasoned to complement the sweet flesh. Served by weight, quick hands whisk them from the scales on the bar to the kitchen and back again in an instant, piled plainly on a white plate without so much as a sprig of parsley for garnish. It’s the kind of dish that you could only ever get from someone who was almost carelessly confident, and it’s perfect, just the way it is. The ensuing steak sandwich, that follows the appetizers as surely as night follows day, is similarly simple: A rotund little bread roll, stuffed with fleshy slivers of beef, with the crisp crunch to the crust contrasted by the

100

moist, spongy bread inside, soaked in the pinkish-brown juices of the meat. For desert, old port, nestled carefully in a decanting cradle of burnished wood and polished brass, both of which bear the patina of a long life that matches nicely with the dusty bottle. The steady, slow hand of the waiter uses a winch to tilt the bottle, leaving decades of sediment undisturbed as he patiently fills our glasses. Coffee comes piping hot from an old glass vacuum pot that’s almost certainly older than I am. It looks like a science experiment, and takes care and time, the anthesis of the quick shot of espresso I prefer every place else. This is as much about theatre as it is about caffeine, another little tradition of theirs that they’re sticking to like glue, and one that ends the meal perfectly. It’s always important to make a distinction between fashion and style. One is fueled by fad and fancy, the other by taste and experience. It’s OK to flirt with the former from time to time. We all like to try new things. On the whole, however, it’s always better to be stylish than fashionable. That applies not just to the clothes we wear, but also to the bars and restaurants we frequent. Taste should prevail over trend every time. There is no wifi at Gambrinus. No one staring at their phone or working on a laptop. There’s no TV or piped-in pop music. None of that is meant to imply that its dead or dying inside like some hole-in-the-wall bar that couldn’t keep pace with the rest of the city. Gambrinus could have followed fashion, it just chose not to. It’s the wonderfully rare kind of establishment that, by preserving the best of the past, shows us an attractive alternative to our present. Somewhere you go to talk and enjoy good food, without a selfie stick in sight. It isn’t the only hidden gem waiting to be discovered amongst the hustle of Lisbon’s streets, either, but it is my favorite. It’s a place out of time, untouched since the dark wood panelling and the stained glass were installed back in the early 1960s. Some of the staff have been around almost as long. And I hope they’ll still be there for some time to come, because I don’t want any of it to change.





104


CATALONIA Blessed with year-round good weather, brilliant roads, and a population that has a deep and loving relationship with the bicycle, this corner of Spain is perfect for riding. Italy and France might claim longer histories when it comes to racing, but these days Catalonia is the center of the world for a large part of the professional peloton, who flock here from all corners of the globe. Off the bike, there’s a profusion of things to do, and in particular, downtown Girona is a foodie’s paradise. On top of a rich culinary tradition that is constantly being reconsidered and reinvented by a host of talented chefs, it caters to the coffee connoisseur, with some of Europe’s most stylish and sophisticated cafes, and for wine lovers, with a plethora of regional varietals to choose from. But the tastiest part of it all has to be the riding – it’s guaranteed to have you coming back for seconds.

105



MAKING  THE CUT Gary Halvorson is a Juilliard-trained musician with a list of directorial credits as long as your arm. His incredible career has taken him from the rarefied atmosphere of opera and the symphony to sitcoms and back again, and as you'd expect, he knows how to tell a good story. Words by Colin O'Brien Illustration by Susa Monteiro Over the years, I’ve met a lot of interesting people on the road with inGamba. Entrepreneurs, professional athletes, a best-selling author. Successful people. The kind of people with stories to tell. Two minutes into a conversation with Gary Halvorson, though, and he had them all beat. “Hey, did you know that I have my own Muppet? It’s true. He was on the show with Prince. It’s a funny story, I’ll tell you about it later.” It’s the perfect cliffhanger, sprung with aplomb by a veteran storyteller, just as it was time for our group to drive to dinner. That knack for pacing should not have surprised me. Gary has worked with everyone from Paul Simon to Elmo, and if you watched a sitcom around the turn of the century, chances are he directed it. He has also directed the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, for which he won two Emmy awards. But despite working on shows like Roseanne, Friends, Everybody Loves Raymond and Two and a Half Men, these days you’re more likely to find him doing opera. Gary has been integral to the runaway success of the New York Met’s Live in HD, a series of live opera performances transmitted in high-definition video via satellite to venues around the world. It’s the job he was

born to do, in his opinion, combining his impeccable sense of dramatic timing, camera craftsmanship, and his love of music. An unconventional job for an uncon­ ventional character. Sitting down to dinner in Mercearia Gadanha, a lively little restaurant in Estremoz, Portugal, I was looking forward to hearing all about it. “I remember being in college, seeing Arthur Rubinstein play on the television. And I couldn’t help but think, ‘Why are they just showing his hands? They need to show his face.’I had all these ideas and to me they were showing the wrong things. “So I called up the producer in New York, and we started talking. They asked me to come down to talk and they gave me an internship for the summer. That was unheard of in TV back then, but they liked me because I was a musician and nobody else on the staff was a musician. “I learned a lot about how TV worked that summer, and about how the symphonies worked. And then Humphrey Burton called me from the BBC and asked me to fly over to the UK and start score-reading for him. That’s when you sit with the score and mark the cameras down so when the oboe or something plays, they know what number to call.

107


I learned a lot from him and then I was hired by Great Performances back in New York. That was that, I was a director.” Halvorson is full of frenetic energy, and talks a mile a minute, dancing between subjects and storylines with ease, in a manner not unlike the scene changes that were a hallmark of his television work. And as the starters arrive, there’s a sharp segue from classical pianists to stand-up comedians. “I was directing symphonies, but I’d started doing other things too. Marlo Thomas and I won an Emmy in 1989 for a show called Free to Be, and I told Marlo that I wanted to go to LA and meet her brother, Tony Thomas of Witt/ Thomas, a big production company. “When I met Tony, and he said, ‘OK, because Marlo really beat me up about this, I’m going to give you one episode of Muscle.’It was a sitcom about a gym in New York, pretty unknown show at the time, but I did well and the next year they hired me. From there, Roseanne Barr heard about me, so I started working on her show. Then I met Brett Butler, the stand-up comic, and she hired me, and I was doing Drew Carey, and all these weird shows. “Roseanne was really the only big one. But from that I got a call, asking me to go interview for the job with Friends. My first year, I did one episode, but I ended up directing 55 in total. I was doing Everybody loves Raymond at the same time, too, so I’d go do a few shows over there and then go back and do two or three more episodes of Friends. I never had a vacation. Most of the other directors would have three weeks on and one week off, but I was always working. It was insane. I worked like that for 11 or 12 years. “Friends was the number one show when I started there, and I got really nervous before the first rehearsal. The set was a kitchen, and I was there with Courtney Cox,

108

whose character was supposed to be a chef. Courtney didn’t know how to cook, and she was bad with props, but I didn’t know any of that, so I’d worked out this whole scene around what she could do in the kitchen, but when I started to talk her through it, she couldn’t do it. It was too hard. “The whole thing was falling apart on me, and when I looked off to the side, the entire cast was there watching as it got worse and worse. So I just stopped it and said, ‘You guys, I’m sorry, I’m really nervous here, this is the top show in the world, you guys are really funny and I’ve never done this quality of show before and I just hope I can do it. I’m scared shitless.’ “And they all came up to me, gave me a group hug, and said, ‘We love you already for that, just keep doing what you’re doing.’After that, we got to know each other really well and it was always fun. “I always tried to be well-prepared, and you had to be because it was a complicated show. With Friends, they were pretty much all one-page scenes, they weren’t even really scenes, it was six lines. Watch the show, you’ll see the formula was three story lines, going as fast as you can. You’d do a handful of lines, get a really big laugh, and move on to the next scene, the B story, and so on. It was really complicated, having to do three stories every show in 23 minutes. Try to figure that out! It was hard to do, but it was a really great gig.” There had been a similarly nervous start to his time on Roseanne. “I remember the very first episode I did. Shelley Winters and Estelle Parsons were both on that show, both Oscarwinning women, both notoriously difficult. Around 20 years earlier, I was studying at the Actors Studio to get better at directing, and one day, Shelley was moderating the group, so it was her job to offer criticism to whoever got up.


“For anyone not familiar with it, the Studio was a place to try things out, it was OK to fail. So Estelle gets up and does this whole exercise, playing all the parts of a Shakespeare play, all at once. I thought it was incredible, but Shelley lit into Estelle, telling her it was bullshit, and the two of them got into this huge argument. “Cut to two decades later, and I’m directing them both in Roseanne and I still had my journal from back then, so I brought it in and read them my notes. I didn’t think they’d remember it at all, that it would just be a fun little story, but Shelley turned around to Estelle and said, ‘You know what? That really wasn’t a good exercise,’and the whole thing kicked off again. Rosey was looking at me like ‘What the hell, Gary?’I thought she was going to fire me. I’d just met these two Oscar-winning actors and I’d started a fight, but then the two of them just started laughing about it and it was all good. They liked me right away, and on a Roseanne set, if those two liked you, you were all set.” Winters, Parsons, and the Friends cast weren’t the only ones to appreciate Halvorson’s honesty and diligence, either. It seems to be a recurring theme. In an interview with the Television Academy Foundation, the late Doris Roberts, who played the mother to the titular character in Everybody Loves Raymond, said of Gary: “I love him. Fabulous. Fabulous... He saves us, he saves us energy and time and it’s wonderful... I love Gary, he does operas and the Macy’s Day Parade, with all of those cameras. He knows his cameras, and there’s no waste of time. It’s all cleverly done and he knows what he needs to get, it’s wonderful. I think he’s the best.” Peter Boyle, who played Roberts’husband on the show, said more succinctly: “Gary knew the cameras best and the actors best.” And the producer Jeremy Stevens said: “He’s a home run, an ace. A terrific director and a great guy to work with.” The fact that Gary has obviously built lasting and meaningful relationships with the people he worked with over

the years lends a sincerity and warmth to any Hollywood story he offers to tell. He’s not talking behind anyone’s back or trying to be mean. He’s sharing a laugh while remembering a friend. “I can tell you this because I know she’d laugh about it,” offers Gary, leaning over the crowded table with a grin. “Back in the day, when you did an episode of Roseanne, Rosey was producing and writing the show, she was very hands on, but she didn’t want to work very hard at the acting. “So when I directed Rosey, I actually had to direct her stand-in. She had a stand-in for all the rehearsals because she didn’t like all the walking and talking, back and forth. “She liked to sit next to me and watch the scene. In those situations, she’d always talk about herself in the third person, referring to the stand-in. I’d be doing the scene, telling the actors how to move across the room or whatever, and I’d get a tug on my sleeve. ‘Gary, Roseanne doesn’t like to do that. Roseanne doesn’t want to just be walking around. Roseanne likes to sit. But maybe Roseanne could walk over to that couch if you put a piece of cheesecake on the table.’ “I started laughing, but she was dead serious. She said, ‘We’ll get two of those good cheesecakes she likes, flown in from New York, and then Roseanne can do the scene.’And that’s exactly what happened, no arguments, no problems. We flew the cheesecake right in from Juniors in Brooklyn. “You can always tell when it’s a hit show from the food on set. On a regular show, there’ll be Licorice Twizzlers and donuts and coffee. On something like Friends, there were salad bars and tables of fresh food a half a block long, and everyone ordered out from restaurants. If it’s a hit sitcom, you can have whatever you want, whenever you want.” The main courses come, and it’s time to get to the Muppets. I need to know. There’s a warm, gravelly cackle

109


the second I bring it up, either because he’s especially fond of the memory, or because he thinks it’s funny that a guy in his 30s should show such childish interest in a casual anecdote about puppets. Regardless, the throaty laugh is fitting, because it’s exactly what made the story possible in the first place. “Jim Henson had passed away, and his son Brian was running the show. I was there about three years, doing the Muppets Tonight show. I became really close with all of the puppeteers, and it was all so much fun, I was laughing all the time. Apparently, I have a peculiar laugh, which they loved, so one of the guys decided that they’d make a Muppet of me. His name was Gary Cahuenga, and he was a ventriloquist’s dummy. He was in an episode with Prince, and then he threw himself off a building. So he only lasted half a season, three episodes I think.” There’s a break in the conversation. Research. YouTube. Gary’s dummy has been left in a trunk in the basement of KMUP Studios for decades, only to be found by Clifford and Rizzo. When they let him out, he’s off like a shot. The resemblance is unmistakable, all laughter and wild, positive energy. He’s expecting to go on the Ed Sullivan show, right after Jerry Murad’s Harmonicats, to do a routine about Sputnik. He’s 40 years too late, but even now, another two decades since the show was broadcast, he’s still funny. As honors go, it’s not as conventional as say an Emmy, but it is definitely more exclusive, and clearly done with a lot of affection. “Sitcoms are great,” Gary says, getting back on topic just in time for the desserts, “but you don’t get many shows like Friends or Raymond. We all knew it. You don’t get three or four number one shows in your career, it just doesn’t happen. They’re so tough to do. They rewrite so much, you never leave the show during the week, and then at the weekend you’re prepping the next one, so you never get a break. It’s hard, physically and mentally. You need to

110

manage your money and not go insane, but if you can do that, you’ll never have to worry about anything after. “My plan was always to come back to music. When I started in TV, I was doing classical music. I wanted to do all the things I did, the sitcoms and the award shows and the Macy’s parade, because I wanted to make money. But I always thought I’d go back to PBS when I was ready. I didn’t go there, but the whole Met Opera thing is a new format and I love it. “Given all the crazy things I’ve done in my career, it might seem strange that I think that the opera is what I’m meant to be doing, but it combines all of the elements that I love and that I’m good at. “There’s dance, music, storytelling. It’s all of the things that I’ve done in my life and combines it into one form. It’s definitely the thing I was born to do. That’s my calling. “A good opera is all about the music and the story, and the story doesn’t even need to be that good, all you need is a couple of good arias. Carmen is one of the best of all time because it’s got five great songs. I try to do it like a movie, but it’s not like anything else I’ve done because I’m not in control of what’s happening on stage. “My job is enriching the story with the composition, the close ups, that kind of thing. On a show, I could control everything, but with an opera, I have to shoot what the stage director is doing and make it look good. The trick is getting used to the scale, because what’s six inches in your living room is 20 feet high in the movie theatre. It sounds easy, but I think it’s actually the hardest thing I’ve done.”



01. Start the morning with high fives or hugs. Ideally both. But in case you’re not a hugger, know that you can still take the jersey with high fives alone. Five points for each.

02.

Caffeine is not required, but may prove extremely helpful to you throughout the day. I recommend a minimum of four espressos with breakfast.

03.

05.

04.

06.

Eat well and often according to your preference and the culinary delights of the country through which you are pedaling. In Portugal, some pastĂŠis de nata are an effective place to start.

Set your cycling computer to display your Smiles Per Mile output. You will want to optimize your pre-trip laughter training to ensure that you set a new Functional Grin Threshold PR at some point during the week. 112

As you prepare for your inGamba vacation, ensure that you work in some resistance training for your cheeks. Muscular endurance in this critical zone will provide you with the stamina to maintain maximum Joy Face throughout.

Stopping periodically during a mountain climb to pick flowers for your hair earns bonus points. Picking and delivering flowers to your fellow riders counts for double.


07.

09.

08.

10.

Optimized V02 Max is essential for on-bike singing, which has been shown to be an indisputable X-factor for previous Joy QOM champions.

Your Pinarello is a key contributor to the amplification of your inherent delight. Take time to revel in its beauty and prowess. Appreciate its perfect fit. Praise spoken out loud to your whip will enhance your smileage.

Recovery is crucial; leverage afternoon naps and massage to recharge and prepare for all the Joy still to come.

At the dinner table, toast early and often. Be relentless in your commitment to keep wine glasses topped off. Studies have shown that world-class dining experiences have a strong positive correlation to happiness performance.

HOW TO WIN THE JOY QOM Words by Heidi Swift

113


THE INGAMBA

114


FAMILY Family can mean more than just parents, children, uncles, aunts and cousins. Family can be defined as any group of people who share common attitudes, interests, or goals. A lot of companies abuse the word “family” as part of their marketing speak or advertising spiel, in order to try and create a sense of friendliness and affinity between their clients and the corporation, but when inGamba says family, we mean it. We’re a close-knit unit that believes in relationships, and that belief defines who we are and how we make decisions. We ride together, live together, break bread together. We laugh like a family – occasionally, we fight like one too. And we wouldn’t have it any other way. Because family isn’t something you choose. It chooses you.

Words and Photos by Jim Merithew

115


THE BOSS. João Correia is Portuguese. He spent his formative years in New York. And he lives in California. He is not defined by any of this, but this diversity informs all he does. He loves his refurbished ’69 VW camper. He lives to make a deal. And his favorite lunch is a giant pot filled with chicken cooked in its own blood. The one defining factor in João’s life is the importance of family. He’s fiercely loyal and you can take his word straight to the bank. It’s his bond. Which explains why you will see very little turnover within the staff at inGamba. We’re family, and like a family we look to the head of our table for inspiration, encouragement and direction.

MR. METICULOUS. Shenanigans. I love me some shenanigans. There has been a lot of talk on this particular day about how the fast group, who is doing the full ride today, will run down the funner (slower) group well before the coffee stop, even though they are getting shuttled forward past the first big climb of the day. As we wave goodbye to the fast group we try to tell them their batteries have been removed from their eTap derailleurs, but they’re too busy talking shit to listen. Everyone is enjoying these shenanigans, minus one very stern-faced mechanic. You see Zé, he loves some shenanigans, as long as they don’t involve his highly tuned, spit-shined, Pinarello F10 Disk team whips.

THE KEEPER OF THE KEYS. Filipa is our very own human spreadsheet. She readily admits she wasn’t the most engaged high school student, but by the time she got to “you-nee” (University), she finally buckled down and got to work. She double majored in Sports Management and Science. How she found her way to inGamba is a tale for another time, but suffice it to say we are glad she did. In her time off, these days, you can find her riding her bike, sneaking to the beach for a little surfing, or at the neighborhood pub sipping on a ginger beer and talking about her next adventure.

THE CLOWN. The bride and groom are the perfect picture postcard. He, in his black tux and tails. Her, in her stunning white bridal dress. Lake Garda is the perfect backdrop for this momentous of occasions. The father of the bride steps in to get his picture taken with his breathtaking daughter. The father of the bride is dressed in full inGamba team kit? Wait? That is not the father of the bride, that is the one and only Raul Matias, class clown. Raul is everywhere. He is up in the morning making sure the bicycles and riders are all ready for the miles ahead. He’s watching the back of the train, sprinting to the front, checking in with the team car and entertaining the troops 116


during the coffee stops. He’s rubbing the lactic acid out of the sore muscles, washing water bottles and making handmade treats for the next days ride. Raul is ever present and we don’t know what we would do without him.

THE CHAMPION. The entrance to the Zoncolan climb is blocked by Carabinieri, the Italian police. They inform us the road is closed ahead and they won’t be letting anymore cyclists onto the historic climb ahead of the arrival of the Giro d’Italia peloton. We had arrived too late. InGamba was about to fail in it’s promise to take our guests to the stage finish. But we had a secret weapon. We had Eros Poli. We parked the team cars at the base of the climb and told Poli to take the group as far up the climb as was possible. And just like that faithful day in 1994 when the climbers, nah, the entire cycling world, underestimated Poli’s abilities we, too, were sure we would see the group again in about 30 minutes. But everytime the riders reached a roadblock one of the Carabinieri recognized Monsieur Ventoux and they waved the group through. The crowds started to press in, cheering them on as they continued to push for the summit. Until just when the helicopters started to hover, they were making souvenir photographs at the finish line. Once again Eros Poli stood atop the climb, victorious.

THE QUIET CRUSHER. Ride with Manuel Cardoso long enough, and you’ll eventually notice his “look.” The look that struck fear in the hearts of the pro peloton for many years. It’s part grin, part mischievous child, and all business. He has it whenever he’s about to start something. He’ll pick one lucky contestant out of the pack to take with him and they’ll wait, like predators, for the perfect moment. For Manuel, just like when he raced pro, this is when the road turns slightly up, a spot in the road where it gets tough for everyone. And he accelerates with his breakaway “partner” in tow. It is something to see. He ramps it up to a speed with which no one can latch onto the back and with such precision you have to question whether or not you actually want to try and close the gap he has created. And you can’t see it, but you just know, he is grinning from ear-to-ear.

THE STORYTELLER. He’s our historian. He’s our fashionista. He’s our inspiration to keep working on our core. He’s our Giorgio, and we love him. He will be found at the coffee stop changing out of his sweaty kit, into a fresh dry kit, while regaling everyone with stories of his time working on the open sea as a luxury ship crew member, doing a few pull ups and suddenly veering off into ’80s music trivia. Life with Giorgio is never dull. 117


THE ZEALOUS ONE. When he was just a tot, André Cardoso fell in love with cycling. The racers used to come to his hometown once a year and he would set his alarm clock to wake him in the wee-hours of the morning, so he could run to town and take in all of the day’s racing. It wasn’t too much longer before he started bugging his father for a bicycle. His father finally caved, and not long after, André would finish on the podium in his local race before setting out on a long pro career. Luckily for us, his love of bicycling has never faltered.

THE BEARD. Paulo Crispim is scowling. Well, it’s not so much scowling as glaring. OK, maybe not glaring, but staring intensely. It’s not that he is unhappy, it’s just that he is paying attention. But don’t let this serious face fool you. Underneath this rough exterior is a gentle soul. And he knows his way around a bicycle, both as a mechanic and as an athlete. If you have any questions, ignore the game face and just ask. He’s truly happy to help.

THE BOYSCOUT. When Sampaio raced, he was the general. The boss. The enforcer. And the hammer. All this seems so foreign to what we know of him now. He is funny, kind and, dare we say, sweet. He used to rule the peloton with an iron fist and now he has the hands of magic, which massage us back to the living. And he knows his way around the stove, the oven and the grill. So he may no longer resemble the bike riding muscle of days gone by, but we love who he has become.

THE HAMMER. Katie rides. She rides hard and she rides fast. And this is how she attacks all aspects of her life. Having spent an extended period of time with our favorite charity, World Bicycle Relief, before joining inGamba, she knows a thing or two about building community and having fun with an extended family. She also knows how to climb. If you don’t believe us, just ask the boss.

THE GLUE. Inga knows how you like your eggs. Inga knows where you left your glasses. Inga makes the perfect macchiato. Inga is up well before you and still working long after you have knocked out. Inga is all knowing and all seeing. This is not an exaggeration. We rely on Inga for things we don’t even know we rely on her for.

THE CHEF. Rosanna was born and raised right in our beloved Lecchi, where you will find her, always smiling and handmaking pasta in the Borgolecchi 118


kitchen. Apparently, if you are going to have handmade pasta every night, someone has to make it every day. Those tagliatelle, gnocchi, lasagne and pici don’t just make themselves. Buon Appetito.

THE HIP-CAT. Every family needs one, you know, an inked-up, steely-eyed hipster wandering about looking all shady. But regardless of João Simão’s stunningly good looks and assemblage of tattoos, he can’t escape the fact he’s a big ol’softie. So don’t let the looks fool you, he might carry a big steel wrench, but he also has a heart of gold.

COOL HAND LUKE. Bruno Pinto is the gauge by which a lot of our crazy ideas are filtered. If Bruno thinks we can pull it off, we can pull it off. And if he thinks it’s bad idea, it usually is. He’s never judgemental about any of these things, he is is just always quietly contemplating and ready to calmly weigh in on whether or not we should try to jump the boss’ Fiat over the ravine or not. THE STEADY HAND. Nuno is the ellusive family member who never shows up for family functions and he never, ever appears in pictures, but he’s the backbone of this family. He’s doing all the little things you appreciate, even if you don’t realize it. Nuno is the best.

YOU. Yes, you. Our extended family. There are so many names on this list, we don’t know where to start. We show up to rides in Arizona, New York, Los Angeles and Portland and you’re there, wearing the family kit. We need a place to stay while on the road with Eros and you open your doors. We do this thing we do because of you. And whether it’s the roads of Tuscany, a brutal climb in the Dolomites, the rolling hills of Portugal or in the sheets of rain on the Coast Ride, we love the fact we get to ride with family.

119


120


CALIFORNIA Because there’s no place like home. We love riding in the Old World, but we’re very proud of our Bay Area roots and we genuinely believe that the Golden State offers some of the best cycling to be found anywhere on the planet. Whether it’s the sense of randonée adventure on the unique Coast Ride, that rollercoaster of laughs and early season energy that runs from San Francisco to Morro Bay, the quaint charm of Paso Robles and the many incredible roads that surround it, or the awe-inspiring beauty of the Redwoods, there’s a reason we like to boast about our own neck of the woods when we’re talking to friends in the European professional peloton. In recent years, a lot of them have taken to training here in the off-season, but we get to enjoy it year-round, and we don’t think we’re being overly confident when we say that we know it better than anyone. So whether you want to start your season off right with some solid, sunny miles, or you’re just looking for a destination closer to home that won’t leave you longing for the long-haul option, trust us: California is second-to-none.

121


FRASI FRASES PHRASES


— ITALIAN CYCLING PHRASES

ROADS AND COURSE CIMA › summit COLLINA › hill, slope CURVA › curve DISCESA › downhill GARA › race GARA A TAPPE › a stage race MONTAGNA › mountain MURO › ‘wall’: the short, hard climb into Radda PIANO › flat terrain, plains STRADA › road SALI-SCENDI OR MANGIA E BEVI › the road goes up and down all day VALICO › mountain pass

RIDING PHRASES ALLA RUOTA › on the wheel, usually about to go full gas AL GANCIO › On the hook, like meat in an abattoir. Not far from being ... COTTO › cooked, to be completely spent during or at the end of the race FARE L’ELASTICO › ‘making the elastic’: when riders at the back are strung out and the end looks like the tail of a dog wagging GRUPPO SPACCATO › when the main group has been blown apart after a series of attacks or a hard pace by one of the super domestiques or capos IL VENTAGLIO › riders doing an echelon in the cross-winds PEDALARE A MANI BASE › riding in the drops PERDERE LE RUOTE › lose the wheel, get dropped

SUCCHIA RUOTA › ‘to suck the wheel’: to stay close behind another rider and not pull through PERDERE IL VENTAGLIO › when you can’t make the echelon and get blown out the back of it

GENERAL CADUTA › crash CICLISTA › the rider CORIDOR › cyclist in the Veneto dialect FUGGITIVI › the breakaway GREGARIO › the domestique GRUPETTO › the laughing group, the last group in the race often arriving as we say “at night” GRUPPO COMPATTO › peloton is all together IL CAPOCLASSIFICA › GC leader SQUADRA › team TESTA DELLA CORSA › race leader TIFOSI › Italian cycling fans. Known for their dedication and spirit

VERBS AGGRAPPARE › to hang on, often for dear life as the pace is high BUCARE O FORARE › to flat CAMBIO DI PASSO › change of rhythm, often done by the gregario in the service of his capo di squadra SALIRE › to climb SCIVOLARE › to slide SUPERARE › to pass

123

RIDING STYLES ATTACANTE › a rider who is always attacking. Paolo Bettini DISCESISTA › a good descender. Paolo Salvodeli FONDISTA › a rider who has a lot of stamina and is good on long days or long stage races. Francesco Moser PASSISTA › the super domestique, who looks relaxed, like he’s going to the coffee shop for a simple cappuccino, when he’s actually hammering out watts. Eros Poli SCALATORE › the kind of climber who can make even the most daunting mountains look flat. Marco Pantani VELOCISTA › the sprinter. Mario Cipollini


— PORTUGUESE CYCLING PHRASES

ROADS AND COURSE COLINA › hill, slope CORRIDA › race CORRIDA POR ETAPAS › stage race CUME › summit CURVAR › turn or curve DESCIDA › downhill ESTRADA › road MONTANHA › mountain MURO › ‘wall’: a short, hard climb PASSAGEM DE MONTANHA › mountain pass PLANO › flat terrain, plains TERRENO ROLANTE › the road goes up and down all day

RIDING PHRASES DESCOLAR › lose the wheel, get dropped NO ELÁSTICO › ‘making the elastic’: when riders at the back are strung out and the end looks like the tail of a dog wagging PEDALAR NOS DROPS › riding in the drops PELOTÃO PARTIDO › when the main group has been blown apart after a series of attacks or a hard pace by one of the gregário REBENTADO › cooked, to be completely spent during or at the end of the race SEGUIR NA RODA › on the wheel, usually about to go full gas SUGAR A RODA › ‘to suck the wheel’: to stay close behind another rider and not pull through

GENERAL CICLISTA › the rider CORREDOR › cycling racer EQUIPA › team FUGA › the breakaway GREGÁRIO › the domestique GRUPETO › the laughing group, the last group in the race often arriving as we say “at night”; João often lived there GRUPO COMPACTO › peloton is all together HOMEM DA MARRETA › Literally, a man that comes with a hammer, to hit a rider when he least expects it. Meaning to suddenly be overcome by tiredness LÍDER DA CORRIDA › race leader LÍDER DA GERAL › GC leader QUEDA › crash

VERBS AGRUPAR › to hang on, often for dear life as the pace is high ARRANCAR › to climb DESLIZAR › to slide FURAR › to flat MUDANÇA DE RITMO › change of rhythm, often done by the gregário in the service of his líder da equipa ULTRAPASSAR › to pass

RIDING STYLES ATACANTE › a rider who is always attacking. Raul Matias DISCESISTA › a good descender. Manuel Cardoso

124

CORREDOR DE FUNDO › a rider who has a lot of stamina and is good on long days or long stage races. Joaquim Agostinho ATACANTE › the punchy rider who likes to change rhythm often, especially on climbs. Rui Costa SPRINTER › the sprinter. Candido Barbosa TREPADOR › the climber. André Cardoso


— FRENCH CYCLING PHRASES

ROADS AND COURSE COL › mountain pass COURBE › curve COURSE › race COURSE PAR ÉTAPES › a stage race DESCENTE › downhill MONTAGNE › mountain MUR › ‘wall’: the short, hard climb into Radda PETITE COLLE › hill, slope PLAT › flat terrain, plains ROUTE › road SOMMET › summit VALLONNÉ › the road goes up and down all day

RIDING PHRASES A LA ROUE › on the wheel, usually about to go full gas BORDURE › riders doing an echelon in the cross-winds CROCHER › On the hook, like meat in an abattoir. Not far from being CUITS CUITS › cooked, to be completely spent during or at the end of the race FAIRE L’ÉLASTIQUE › ‘making the elastic’: when riders at the back are strung out and the end looks like the tail of a dog wagging GROUPE CASSÉ › when the main group has been blown apart after a series of attacks or a hard pace by one of the super domestiques or capos PÉDALER MAIN BAS › riding in the drops PERDRE LA BORDURE › when you can’t make the echelon and get blown out the back of it

PERDRE LES ROUES › lose the wheel, get dropped SUCE ROUE › ‘to suck the wheel’: to stay close behind another rider and not pull through

GENERAL AUTOBUS › the laughing group, the last group in the race often arriving as we say “at night” CHUTE › crash CHEF AUTOBUS › the teambus driver ÉCHAPPÉE › the breakaway ÉQUIPE › team GROUPE COMPACT › peloton is all together LEADER DU CLASSEMENT GÉNÉRAL › GC leader LES TIFOS › the most hardcore cycling fans. Known for their dedication and spirit TÊTE DE LA COURSE › the race leader

VERBS ACCROCHER › to hang on, often for dear life as the pace is high CHANGEMENT DE PAS › change of rhythm, often done by the gregario in the service of his capo di squadra CREVER › to flat GLISSER › to slide GRIMPER › to climb PERCER › to flat SURMONTER › to pass

125

RIDING STYLES ATTAQUANT › the kind of rider who attacks at every opportunity. Thomas Voekler EN DANSEUSE › Riding out of the saddle, standing and swinging the bike back and forth. Richard Virenque DESCENDEUR › a good descender. Laurent Jalabert DOMESTIQUE › the domestique. Pierre-Henri Lecuisinier GRIMPEUR › the climber. Raymond Poulidor ROULEUR › the big diesel engine that can just keep going, happiest on long days. Sylvain Chavanel SPRINTEUR › the sprinter. Nacer Bouhanni


— SPANISH CYCLING PHRASES

ROADS AND COURSE CARRERA › race CARRERA POR ETAPAS › stage race CUMBRE › summit REPECHO › ramp CUESTA › hill CURVA › corner DESCENSO › descent MONTAÑA › mountain MURO › wall PASO DE MONTAÑA › mountain pass PLANO › flat RUTA › route

GENERAL AVERÍA › mechanical failure CICLISTA › cyclist CHOQUE/ CAÍDA › crash CORREDOR › racer EL TÍO DEL MAZO › the man with the hammer, meaning “to get the hunger knock” EQUIPO › team ESCAPADA › the breakaway FRENOS › brakes PINCHADO › flat tire ROTO › broken

RIDING PHRASES CHUPANDO A RUEDA › sucking the wheel DESCOLGARSE › loose the wheel EL GANCHO › on the hook, the same as al gancio in italian, meaning at your physical limit or in trouble, like a fish on a hook or hanging meat at an abattoir ENGANCHADO › hooked ESTIRANDO EL ELASTICO › stretching the elastic, meaning to test the group by increasing the pace

126



12 TIPS FOR A PERFECT WEEK Preparing for a regular vacation can be a little stressful, but when you add in the fact that you are leaving on a bicycle vacation, the stress can multiply. Have I trained enough? Do I need to bring extra socks? How many Euros should I bring? We at inGamba are here to put you at ease. Take a quick look at our helpful tips and remember we are here to help.

128

ONE Everyone tells you to keep a photo copy of your passport with you and we couldn’t agree more. We recommend you put a copy in your suitcase, a copy in your rain bag, give a copy to your PA and save another on the cloud. We can speak from experience, life becomes a lot easier if you can access your passport information.

TWO Jet lag hits everyone a little differently. The list of solutions is endless. You can download apps that purport to help you adjust your sleep patterns to the new time zone. There are plenty of over-the-counter medications to help you sleep on the plane. Of course, staying hydrated is always advised. Our head of logistics wakes up at 2am the night before he flies, does a bunch of busy work, sleeps on the plane and wakes up in Germany. Ta da. Magic. But we find the best way to combat jet lag is get to your destina­ tion, pull on your kit, get comfortable with your new F10 and get out the door on a beautiful bicycle ride.


THREE

FIVE

SEVEN

TEN

Arrive early. Depart late. Add a splash of some Lisbon, Porto, Florence, Venice, Rome or Nice to any of your inGamba trips and you will not regret the decision. If you need help with making this idea a reality, just reach out. We will be glad to help.

Bring comfortable shoes. We cannot stress how much better life is when you have happy feet. And if you’ve got some extra cash weighing you down – give our man Alessandro Stella a call and get yourself some truly special kicks.

If you need anything while traveling with us, just ask. Truly. If you have a need, we will do everything in our power to meet it.

Need to call home? Get an international data plan, ask us to help you buy a sim card at a local cafe or bar or you can just wait until the next time you hit a wifi connection.

FOUR

SIX

Searching for an authentic souvenir can be a daunting task when traveling, as a lot of shops are filled with the same stuff you can buy in any major tourist destination in the world. Many a person has settled on taking home sausage and truffle oil from the airport as a gift. This never really works out so great. We recommend you make sure to have the sizing and color palette preference for your significant other in hand, so you are prepared. And if you are about to purchase something, remember it should hurt just a little bit. If you need help finding the perfect gift, make sure you ask for our help. After all, we here at inGamba, are in-the-know.

Chamois cream is a thing of the past. Giordana has designed the Cirro OmniForm Chamois in our FR-C bibs to keep your privates comfortable all day long without the need to add extra lotion. They actually suggest the use of chamois cream makes their kit perform poorly, blocking up the chamois. The uppermost layer of the FR-C bibs utilizes a special nylon microfiber, which includes some Aloe Vera. The Aloe is permanently infused into the threads of the microfiber, protecting and even healing your personal bits while also helping out in the “under-carriage” cooling process. So no underthings between you and your chamois and leave the ointments at home.

EIGHT Power and the internet. Most of the places we will visit have internet access, but be warned. The two things you will notice is, unlike what we are used to in the States, they like to use really long, long passwords and high speed is not really a thing. The key is to be entertained and remember the golden age of dial-up. As far as power is concerned you will see two, three, and even four prong outlets depending on where you go. Prepare yourself with options and, as with everything else, if you are in need of help… just ask.

NINE The travel cheque is dead. Bring your money card, credit card and a little Euro. The need for a chip is not nearly as pervasive as the travel websites and magazines would have you believe, but as mom used to say, better safe than sorry.

129

ELEVEN Turn off cellular data on your phone, especially if you did not buy that international plan. Nothing worse than a surprisingly huge bill waiting for you when you get home.

TWELVE Just like the pros, we recommend you travel with your shoes, pedals and saddle in your carry-on bag. We can take care of everything else in a pinch, but you want to to take extra care of your feet and your backside.









inGamba was born from a simple tweet from our founder, João Correia, just after he retired as a pro rider. “Thinking of doing a ride, eat, drink EOY bash here in chianti October 12 – 18th. Share my favorite things about this place. Who’s interested?” Four brave souls answered: Gary Smith, Kevin Irvine, Jason Probert and Robin Kelly. There were no security deposits and no liability waivers, just a lot of enthusiasm and, as Kevin put it, “a huge amount of trust.” A lot has changed since then. From a team of three – one soigneur, one mechanic, and one boss – in a small Italian village, we’ve grown into a large squad with bases across Europe and the US, but the goal has remained the same. We strive to live each “perfect week” to the maximum, while sharing our passions for the bicycle, great food, and fantastic wine with like-minded souls.



Turn static files into dynamic content formats.

Create a flipbook
Issuu converts static files into: digital portfolios, online yearbooks, online catalogs, digital photo albums and more. Sign up and create your flipbook.