Susan Immelt and her husband Steve are keen bike riders and after a week-long adventure in Portugal, they’re now big inGamba fans, too. Which is great, because we love having them around. They’re exactly the kind of people you want to spend time with, on and off the bike. They’ve traveled extensively around the world, and whatever far-flung destination they end up in, it usually involves a bicycle, either with like-minded enthusiasts or by themselves on DIY-style adventures, complete with pannier bags. We caught up with her for some guest insight on the inGamba experience.
A little cross-pollination can be a marvelous thing. You only need a quick glance at somewhere like Silicon Valley to see that. Apple, Google, and eBay are just a few of big hitters that were founded by newcomers, who discovered in America the inspiration, and the market, for something new. In cycling, too, fresh ideas from abroad have had a huge effect on how the sport has developed in this country over the last few decades. Few have had a bigger impact than Giorgio Andretta, who came to the US, via Canada, in the 1970s and he’s been leading the way in terms of cycling apparel ever since.
When Giovanni Pinarello opened a small shop in the 1950s, he could never have dreamt that more than 60 years later, his name would be proudly emblazoned on the world’s best bikes. It’s a success story that his son Fausto is very proud of – and one that he’s intent on continuing.
Often in Chianti, usually when toiling up one of the many local grades, I found myself envying the grapes. They get to sit still, after all, baking in the Gaiolian sun. And eventually they end up as wine. The luckiest ones reside in the vineyards around Lecchi, where most of the local fruit is destined for the stainless-steel fermenters at Castello di Ama, the winery just up the hill. For Ama is not just another Chianti producer, but a very special place.
His fondness for maple syrup is matched only by his knack for long rides. Racing all over the globe the past decade, Ted King gleaned a few handy tips. Here’s one for every pro year he raced.
The words Strade Bianche takes me back to a two hundred metre stretch of greasy stone slabs. Screaming fans adorn the barriers to my left and to my right and the Danish rider Michael Valgren is at my side, handlebars swinging as we muster all the leverage available to conquer the final arduous metres.
I woke up early on the 12th of June. It was a cloudy, rainy day, and I went for a little walk around the hotel before breakfast. We had a hard day ahead of us – starting straight into a big mountain – and I was a bit nervous. I’ve never liked stages like this: A big climb early and more than 2000m altitude gain. Plus, I’d just come back from a crash where I suffered a broken collarbone, and my form wasn’t good yet. So I’m sitting at the hotel with my breakfast and coffee when I see an ashen, nervous face coming into the hall. It was obvious that Mister João Correia was just as anxious about the day’s ride as me.
