What a great bike tour!
With nothing but tailwinds and sunshine, the ride from Rome was less difficult and a whole lot more interesting than I ever expected.
Crossing the mountains that run like a spine down the middle of Italy was a cinch, though my love-hate relationship with tunnels is once again on the rocks.
The big tunnels – some as long as five kilometers – were deafening with the rumble of truck engines, and I had to pick my way around countless mice that call the darkness home.
Back in the daylight, and on the open road, I came to San Marino, a tiny republic not far from the Adriatic Sea.
All day I climbed a steep, twisting road to the border, and when I crossed over, sunburned and exhausted, I realized I still wasn’t there. I was somewhere near the bottom of there. San Marino proper…
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