Home

10%

L'Eroica Lungo

Every bike is a gravel bike

By EAT MORE LARD

October 3^rd, 2023

Malpensa airport, heading out of Italy and off to see my family in the UK. It is a place for closing circles, except this one might be more of a endless Möbius strip than a closed loop. It was here where the Italian love affair started back in 2013 and where the seed that is L'Eroica was planted.

In fact, in 2014 I had a ticket to the famous event but family priorities, in this case moving my father in law (RIP Captain Khurgee) out of his flat, trumped the day.

Nine years later, it's almost 5am and and I find myself on the start line of the 2023 edition with a few thousand other cyclists in the small town of Gaiole in Chianti. 209 km awaits me with well over half of it on the fabled gravel roads of the region.

The Heroic?

The original L'Eroica event was born 26 editions ago, with the aim to celebrate cycling's past on the white roads of Tuscany. It's inspired a worldwide collection of events as well as the professional bike race Strade Bianche. All riders must have a pre-1987 bike equipped with down tube shifters (or single speed for the truely unhinged), low profile 36 spoke rims, poor brakes, ludicrous gearing, questionable skinny tyres and toe clips or flat pedals. No mod cons allowed.

Period kit is encouraged but modern helmets are a nod to technological improvements.

9 years ago I was a lot fitter, knocking out big rides with relative easy. Today would be my longest ride in 4 years, and on a bike I had only rented the day before, having arrived from Australia the day before that. What I lacked in fitness, I had at least gained in experience. Since that time, most of my riding has been off-road, on gravel and mountain bike, with road cycling pretty much consigned to the commute.

Tre, due, uno.... and we are off.

It's been a while since I've ridden in a group. It's never been my thing but everyone was well behaved as we descended in the cool of the morning. Around were all sorts of people on all sorts of machines. There were those who had gone head to toe vintage. There was even the curious fashion of the vintage wool kit and the knee length compression socks, surely a combination that can only work in Italy! Of course, there were some beautiful bikes but also some barn finds too, all clicking along to the general sound of Italian chatter, my language skills having long since reached their limit.

Soon we were climbing and I was thankful to shake out the chill (how I would wish for that later). The first gravel section was the oh so sweet climb to Brolio. The edges of the narrow road were lined with candles, making for an ethereal atmosphere in the dark, as we grovelled up a loose and steep surface. Soon the road dropped and a somewhat hairy descent under headlights greeted us before we were back on the sealed road.

From there the course rose and fell in short pinches, a little gravel, a little sealed, all the way to Siena. Normally the (rough!) flagstone alleyways of the Campo are closed to bikes but not today. The first food stop of the day greeted us at first light in the famous square. It might be the finish for the Strade Bianche race but we were only 35km in!

We need to talk about the food

On the lungo course, there are six food stops. If you've ever done a sportive, you might think of bananas and lollies and sports drink. If you've done the Audax Alpine Classic, you might expect a sandwich or rice pudding. At L'Eroica, you can expect homemade spelt tarts, local prosciutto, roasted wild boar. If you are feeling particularly frazzled, you might consider a glass of Chianti. Feeling desperate and need a real pick me up? Someone will hand you a shot of grappa and a slap on the back. The local Tuscan soup, ribollita, a white bean soup, served with sourdough, was my personal favourite and a real stomach settler.

Six food stops felt like a lot before the event. By the end of the ride, I craved every mouthful and still needed a can of the black doctor chased with an espresso to bring me home.

For fun, it felt like every one of those checkpoints was at the top of a hill!

Dust, dust, glorious dust

There's nothing quite like it for... coughing up a lung or two.

So how did the white roads compare to what I am used to? Lets start by accepting that not everything from the past is better. A gravel bike with better brakes and wider tubeless tyres would have been more fun (those in the under biking club will certainly disagree). However, this is something quite special about actually getting in done on a wholly inappropriate bike!

The surface varied from fast and fun to loose, sketchy and littered with the secret soft patches of doom, ready to catch your front wheel and launch you into hot air sans machine. Think of nasty late summer conditions in Australia, rocky and corrugated. There were some highlights such as the magnificent rolling sections between Montalcino and Buonconvento. To get there, you first had to get up and over Montalcino. It's a 14km gravel climb. The first 3km (it could have been less but at the speed I was going it seemed like a lot more) averaged a knee popping 12%, with pinches at 20%, testing the limits of rider and traction.

Later you have to pick your way through the special trap filled section that is Monte Santa Marie where it seems every climb is a hot and airless 15% and every descent is a loose boulder filled minefield waiting to explode your 23mm tyre. Apparently they race through this section on Strade Bianche. If that doesn't leave you with a new found respect for pro cyclists, then you are a far better rider that me! If you make it through alive and haven't felt the need to launch your bike into the nearest field, it's the home run (a 40km home run) from there.

Bringing it home

The Italian cyclist are a charismatic lot, at least in the form of the L'Eroica rider. I was only middle of the pack age wise which makes a nice change once you are well into your fifties, even if most of the older cyclists were faster and fitter. Extra heroics points were awarded to the cyclists I saw pulled over for a ciggie. The numbers noticeably swelled when we intersected with those on the (still damn hard) 135 km course for around 40km. It seems the the well deserved reputation of the lungo course attract a far smaller number of the strongest or most optimistic (👋) riders.

With a tough 165km in the legs, it's hardly an easy 40km to finish. I was really struggling with the heat at 145km and the Monte Santa Marie section took far longer than it should have. I was seriously wondering if I could finish this thing! The shortcut finish for the 135 km distance came and went. Now I was committed and so were those around me.

Fortunately, most of the remaining climbing (and there was plenty) was more long and constant than sharp and testy with generally friendly gravel (or was I just more confident with my machine now?). Even so, I was feeling it. The legs hadn't gone but the rough roads on skinny tyres had token their toll on the body but it was the heat that I was really feeling. With only 12km to go, I rolled through Radda in Chianti, passed a cafe, paused for half a second and then chucked a u-ey and stopped for the aforementioned slingshot home. How good did that Coca Cola taste right at that moment.

Caffeine and sugar fuelled, and after another climb, I was soon on the last gravel section and the fast descent to Gaiole. Down the hill, through the back streets and onto the finishing straight, I dropped into the hardest gear, shifted out of the saddle and wound up into a full bore sprint to the line, much to the delight of the three deep crowd, oblivious to my mediocre top speed of 42km/h.

It was done! Someone handed me a medal and a bottle of wine. An older Italian gentleman hugged me and got his friend to take a photo of the two of use. I may have cried a little, dusty streaks adding to the sweat and salt crust.

My nine year plan had been realised! Will I be back or has this one now been consigned to history? A few days later, the hands are still sore but it's a definite maybe right now!

Puncture count: 0 (I claim my handling skills and caution saved the day!)

Autogrill coffee count: 2 (I was only on the highway twice)

Footnotes

Thanks to Lisa and the girls for encouraging me to grab the opportunity that I thought was gone a long time ago. Thanks to all the volunteers at the stops and out on the course.

Button Label

FootNotes

Thanks to Lisa and the girls for encouraging me to grab the opportunity that I thought was gone a long time ago. Thanks to all the volunteers at the stops and out on the course.

14 of the best

L'Eroica Lungo

Every bike is a gravel bike

FootNotes

Favourite photos from the 2025 cycling year, dominated by Tutti Dolomiti

Nowhere to hide on the Passo Fedaia

Five years in the making

13 of the best from a year of limited adventure

Part 3 - Downhill to the Med

Part 2 - Les Grandes Alpes