To Ortona

April 24, 2025

We've been apprehensively following the weather forecasts for several days, watching the changing forecasts for showers, rain and thunderstorms and wondering what our chances of being able to bike to Ortona will be. Yes, yes, we know that rain doesn't close out the option of biking, but we're definitely not keen on it. And actually it's a problem with us and our carrying capacity because on our travel days we expand it by my wearing my rucksack and carrying a few things in it (like the camera and my outer layer). That doesn't really work though when it's raining, so we're more or less stuck with voiding it at all costs.

This wouldn't be a problem of course if I'd brought my new handlebar bag with us that I bought specifically for this tour but then forgot in the storage unit in Portland at the last minute.

Plan B was to take the train, so we had a route to the train station loaded to the Garmins in case it was needed. Yesterday during the day it looked likely that we'd see rain throughout; but then last night it looked like the afternoon would be OK so we anticipated getting a late start, biking in the afternoon, and making a late dinner the main meal of the day.

This morning though the forecast flipped on its head - and if we get an early start we should be able to arrive dry if we roll in by one. So we do, and we're out the door at one.

Today's ride looks like it will be pleasant, except for an unpaved stretch of about a mile that I warn Rachael of in advance so it won't be held against me when we get there. It occurs just after we drop steeply off the hill and arrive at sea level (at the end of the steep vertical drop you'll see on the elevation profile), and when I scope it out on the satellite view it doesn't look bad at all.

And I'm right about that. When we finally get there it comes as a huge relief to finally be on a reasonable surface again. It's the mile before it that's the problem, one that RideWithGPS somehow has classified as paved even though it barely qualifies even as a poor, steep, narrow, rocky footpath. It isn't just bad, it's awful. At least we were going the right direction, not liking the lone biker struggling uphill that we passed on the way. There was barely space for him to squeeze past as we plastered ourselves against one side of the narrow gap.

The beginning of the miserable mile. This stretch isn't bad. It's grassy and not too steep yet, but that will soon change.

It's more like this, dropping at about 15%, and rocky enough that you need to proceed slowly with your hands gripping the brakes the entire way.

Finally though we bottom out and enjoy a reasonably comfortable next mile until we return to pavement again.

Once we make it onto pavement though, the rest of the ride is spectacular as we follow a beautiful green ribbon bike/walking path that carries us along the shore for the next fifteen miles, all the way to the waterfront in Ortona. It's really a spectacular route and very popular, best known for the close-up views of the trabucchi (essentially fishing factories) that jut out from every rocky point and promontory along the way. I stopped to take photos of several of them at first until realizing there were so many that we'd never beat the rain and arrive in time for lunch if I didn't just admire them in passing. I lost count, but I think there are at least a dozen of them on this stretch.

So that's wonderful, as are the views of the sea and the town of Ortona gradually becoming visible in the distance. What really enhances it though is the series of a half dozen tunnels and gallerias that cut through one headland after another, letting us continue to glide along on the level for mile after mile. Cycling bliss.

Sound track: Ginza Samba, by Vince Guaraldi and Bola Sete

And one more, which I especially like for the unfurled net that lets you envision how they operated.

Almost there. Something else to note here is the blue sky ahead, showing that we're going to make it in dry. It looked much more questionable an hour ago.

Sound track: Anche i Galli, by Patro Vitale

At the waterfront below town we leave the bike bath and double back, angling up across the face of the cliff for the next mile before topping out and heading for the restaurant we hope to have lunch at. It's not far, and before long we're within about a block of it; but we won't actually be together with our bikes at the restaurant for another fifteen minutes. First we lean the bikes against a wall at a five way intersection on which none of the five streets has a sign naming it. And then she instructs me to stay with them while she walks off in the direction she believes is correct.

Might as well look up and around while I wait.

Five minutes or so later she calls to let me know she's found the restaurant and tells me to come on down. I point out that it will be awkward as I've got both bikes, and could she please come back and get hers? No, she can't, because she doesn't know where I am. I tell her to just follow her track back on the Garmins but she can't do that either because in her haste she forgot to take her Garmin with her. So I walk out in the intersection and look in the direction she started off in, then tell her to look around for an arm waving in her direction.

We lock our bikes to a post in front of the restaurant, take all of our baggage inside, and sit down at the table that's been offered to us. And it's a lucky placement and I'm lucky in the side I've chosen to sit at, because when I look up I'm startled to see a 0.0 in the wine case across the room. I pull out the Canon to zoom in on it, and I'm right - it's a bottle of NA wine, something that wouldn't have occurred to me to ask about if I hadn't seen it by chance.

So that's definitely a reason to celebrate.

Were there just long enough to lose our weather, and when we're back at the bikes the saddles are already wet. We quickly pack up and head for our AirBnB just a quarter mile away down Via Roma, hoping that our host has gotten our message that we'll be arriving soon. First though we have to stop when we come to a decent overhang because the light shower has suddenly turned to something like real rain. While we stand against the wall there we share the space first with a cat and then with a man who steps outside for a smoke break, and as he's about to reenter his building asks if we'd like a coffee - a nice gesture, which we decline because the rain is just abating and it's time to move on.

This is followed by a very confusing five or ten minutes when we try to find the address of our unit but can't, and we're starting to panic a bit and Rachael is trying to find a number to call when a woman shows up, identifies herself, and escorts us the hundred yards to our room.

And we're in an amazing place, which we'll show you something of tomorrow or the next day because we'll be here for three nights. No sense packing everything into the same post.

Heart

Comment

Link

Today's ride: 28 miles (45 km)
Total: 355 miles (571 km)

Rate this entry's writing	Heart	15
Comment on this entry	Comment	0