To Caltagirone

March 30, 2023

We’re both guardedly optimistic about our health this morning. I feel practically normal surprisingly enough, and Rachael is less certain but ready to ride. We head upstairs for breakfast right at seven to get an early start on the day and both enjoy a normal breakfast. Two hours later we’re packed and ready to go, our immediate destination the Licata bus depot.

Our final destination today is Caltagirone, a town we had planned to reach in two days after an overnight stop in Gela. Ever since we decided to drop our booking in Gela and stay a second night in beautiful, charming Licata we’ve been gaming out our options for how to get to Caltagirone in one day. We’ve held off settling on a plan until this morning, waiting to see the state of each other’s health.

There’s bus service between Licata and Caltagirone, but it’s less convenient and harder to find information about than the excellent service on the southwestern coast west of Agrigento. On the southeastern end of the island service is provided by Etna Transporti, and as near as we can tell we can get a bus from here to Gela, and a second bus from there to Caltagirone. We can’t find any information about bicycles though, and it’s not easy to even tell when they run because strangely enough their website doesn’t post any schedules that I could find.

We did find one reference though that asserts that the bus from Licata to Gela runs more or less hourly, leaving on the quarter hour and taking 45 minutes. So we agree on the plan to show up at the station in time for the 10:15 departure. If it actually runs, and if it takes bikes, we’ll ride it to Gela and then bike the rest of the way. Otherwise, I’ve mapped out the least-effort route riding the whole way since neither of us feels at full strength yet.

We show up at ten. The bus is in the lot already, the apparent driver standing outside. I ask if it’s the bus to Gela and he makes a minimal affirmative nod, barely moving his head or changing his neutral facial expression. I gesture at the bikes and ask if they’re allowed, and he makes another minimal shake of the head, this time in the negative. Crap.

Rachael reminds me that our bikes are folders, so I pantomime that the bikes are folders. Still silent, he shrugs and then walks over to open a luggage bay. It’s a small space, but maybe the bike will fit. I fold it, and it’s close but a no go. I pull it out and go back to Rachael, who reminds me that the handlebar stem pulls out; so I do that, gesture to our possibly mute driver, and we have another go. This time it fits!

So I go back to get Rachael’s bike and return to the bus. He points to the same bay. It’s the only one anvailable apparently, and there’s no way in hell two bikes are going to fit in. I take my bike back out and reassemble it, and he goes back to where he stood when we first arrived. At no point in the encounter did he speak a word or change his facial expression. Do you think that’s strange? I think that’s strange.

Etna Transporti, the bus service in southeast Sicily.

In case it comes in handy, note that you’re unlikely to get your bike on the bus on this line.

So we ride. There’s still the theoretical possibility that we could bike to Gela and try to catch a bus from there, but it’s still Etna Transporti so that’s unlikely to work well; or we could bike there and catch a taxi the rest of the way if either of us is feeling too punk for the whole ride; but if we’re up to it, biking the whole way looks like our best option. By the route I’ve mapped out it’s 43 miles with about 3,000’ of climbing, most of it in the last fifteen miles.

After a few miles getting out of town we start by riding the coast highway, SS115, east for eight miles. We’re taking this route because it’s far easier and shorter than the alternative, but it’s not recommended if you have the time and legs to go inland. It’s a two lane, mostly shoulderless road with substantial traffic and its share of big rigs. Jackie and Al just rode this stretch themselves yesterday and didn’t care for it much, but the fact that they came out the other end unscathed is a comfort to us when we assess our own chances.

And really, it’s not as bad as all that. Maybe we’re just lucky today and the traffic is fairly light and respectful. And we’re lucky in our timing, not finding ourselves exposed on curves with trucks clogging both lanes. And we have the wind with us so we make good time except when we’re stopped at pullouts to let a queue speed by.

Looking back at Licata, a much more attractive place from a distance.

We’re lucky with our timing on SS115. This looks pretty fearsome, but luckily we’re standing on one of the infrequent pullouts.

So we survived, as did Al and Jackie; so maybe you’ll be lucky too! Still though, I’d plan on taking a longer way around if I were you. In any case, it’s a great relief when we come to our turnoff and say good riddance to SS115. As our reward, we enjoy very quiet road and excellent cycling for nearly the rest of the way to Caltagirone, except for a few miles on another state highway, SS117bis, that crosses the interior.

The next twelve miles after leaving Ss115 are especially nice as we bike east on a minor, essentially flat road that gently rolls along the base of a low ridge at the top of the broad Plain of Gela.

The plastic farms are still with us. Are those really houses out there? What a surreal place to live, surrounded by an ocean of plastic.

Very nice. The surface is better than many of these back roads so we do see a few cars now and then, but it’s a fair tradeoff for a smoother ride.

Crossing the Plain of Gela. There’s just enough roll to the road to make it interesting.

I’m not sure, but I may have taken a photo of this scene the last time we came this way,

Eighty years later you still see pillbox fortifications here. The Battle of Gela in 1943 was the opening engagement of the American portion of the Allied Invasion of Sicily during World War II.

We’ve been riding east on SP83, the Strada dei Due Castelli (Rod of two castles). Here’s one, the Castelluccio di Gela.

The turnoff to Gela comes and goes but we’re feeling fine and don’t take it, choosing to ignore the fact that all the real work of the day still lies ahead. We come to the end of the Road of Two Castles without seeing the second castle, and turn north. We’re briefly on busy SS117bis, but at the first opportunity we leave it for a side road that looks troubling at first but soon improves.

It only saves us a mile though, and soon we’re back on the highway for another three miles before reaching the turnoff to Niscemi. We don’t like this highway much - it might be even worse than the coastal highway - but all is forgiven when we spot a nesting stork just on the other side.

The last time we came this way biking to Caltagirone we climbed up the switchback to ridge-top Niscemi. I point it out to Rachael when this road and the town come into sight - partly to remind her, and partly to take some credit because we’re not going that way this time. In the interest of making the ride as easy as possible I’ve mapped us up the west side of the ridge. It’s still a climb, but a more gradual one and several miles shorter.

The climb to Niscemi: a road once taken, but not today.

Rachael professes her eternal gratitude for me thinking of her, and we turn off to the north road. A few hundred yards later though we come to a car parked in the middle of the road, its driver getting something out of the trunk. He gestures us to turn around and points toward Niscemi, then asks where we’re headed. Caltagirone we tell him, but he still shakes his head and points to Niscemi, and then pantomimes something, pointing to the road we planned on taking and then the grass around him. We’re not certain what he’s saying, but it looks like we’d be fools to proceed so we accept his suggestion, turn back toward Niscemi, and start climbing.

I still want that eternal gratitude, Rocky. It’s the thought that counts!

It’s a long climb, but not terrible. Most of it’s in the 5-7% range, but at the end it stiffens considerably and is over 10 for the last switchback. We’re both ready for the top when it arrives. At least the views are worthwhile.

Looking down at the approach to the climb, over 700’ below.

Once we’re at the top, we consider another consequence of coming this way: we don’t have the rest of the route mapped. We don’t know which route is best, what sort of climbing is involved, or even what the distance is. We stare at the Garmin and the map on the phone and make our best guess; and I’d say we do really well because most of the rest of the way is an excellent cycling road - except for the fact that it’s mostly uphill, and five miles longer than we’d planned on. We’ve both had our fill for the day by the time we start making our way through Caltagirone to our room in the heart of the historical center.

We did a good job on choosing the route, but we let you down on bringing back evidence. For some reason I only came back with one photo from the final 17 miles:

If I was only going to take one though, I think I chose well.

Video sound track: Bernie’s Tune, by George Shearing

Our host Stephano is waiting for us when we arrive, and has probably been wondering where we are because we’ve arrived a bit late. He shows us our room - very nice - and then walks with us a few blocks to his uncle’s office, where we stash our bikes for our stay here.

We’re in Caltagirone for three nights, so there’s plenty of time to show you the town. In the meantime we’ll just drop a few photos we took while walking around killing time until our restaurant opened.

Stephano looks like he’s checking out my partner. I’ll have to keep my eye open for the next few days.

Probably Caltagirone’s best known feature: the 142 step Staircase of Santa Mari del Monte, built in the 1600’s to connect the historical center and the newer upper town.

We’re looking back down from not quite the midpoint of the staircase. The first time we visited here we stayed in. B&B right about here, halfway up the staircase. It sounds great, but wasn’t. We reached it by. Side street that abuts the staircase, but then had to carry the bikes down about 15 steps to its door.

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Ride stats today: 48 miles, 3,500’; for the tour: 275 miles, 20,300’

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2023 Bird List

131. White stork

Today's ride: 48 miles (77 km)
Total: 275 miles (443 km)

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Comment on this entry	Comment	9

Keith Adams"... So we survived, as did Al and Jackie; so maybe you’ll be lucky too!"

I'll admit that thus far neither you nor Jacquie have done an adequate job of convincing me that Sicily is worth the trouble. Rather the opposite, in fact, so I'll stick to dreams of Lot and the Dordogne.
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1 year ago

Jacquie GaudetTo Keith AdamsWe are happy we’ve come to Sicily because we’ve wanted to for a long time, but I doubt we will return. Too many other places to go!
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1 year ago

Scott AndersonTo Keith AdamsJust wait. I’ve no doubt that Racpat will make the case when they get here next month.
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1 year ago

Rachael AndersonTo Keith AdamsI’d definitely recommend the Lot and Dordogne!
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1 year ago

Rachel and Patrick HugensWe're glad you guys are feeling better. The restdays will be good.
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1 year ago

Janice BranhamThat's an awfully big ride coming off of whatever struck you down in Licata. Very glad to see you were both able to soldier on and are getting a break for a few days.
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1 year ago

Scott AndersonTo Janice BranhamYou’re right - it’s probably the longest ride since the drive home from Tucson, and under the circumstances pushing the limits.
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1 year ago

Susan CarpenterI’ll echo what Janice said - not exactly a recovery route! You two are tough!
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1 year ago

Rachael AndersonTo Susan CarpenterYou’re absolutely right!
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1 year ago