The Italian Question

Porvenir – Refugio ?, Tierra del Fuego, Chile

Were the Italians in Breaking Away really that bad? 

You remember them, right? The Italian cycling team – Team Cinzano – was coming to America for some big race. 

Our hero, Dave Stoller, was so excited. He had an opportunity to race against the best:

“Like the eagles they fly. Like the nightingales they sing . . .”

When the big day arrived and the gun went off the Italians were, as expected, at the front – and soon they were racing through the Indiana countryside all by themselves. Being young, Dave started near the back of the pack. But he worked his way up, and eventually caught up – chattering to them in their own language when he did.

Team Cinzano was clearly irritated. They were supposed to win easily. Having some unknown young American racing with them was embarrassing. They tried every trick they could think of to rid themselves of this upstart. They sent Dave to the front to block the wind. He didn’t care. Then they shifted Dave’s bike into high gear in the middle of a hill. But Dave shook it off, and eventually caught up again. 

At that point it became obvious to the Italians that they needed to take a different approach. One of them grabbed his bike pump, and, at the opportune time, stuck it into Dave’s wheel. Dave went tumbling off the course – battered and bruised, and finished for the day.  

I mean, I’ve always thought of the Italians as the bad guys. But maybe it’s time to reexamine that line of thinking. After all, we’re in an age when, apparently, might makes right. And, really, think of it from their perspective. They make their living off of cycling. They support their families and raise their children by winning bike races. They are paid to go to America to promote some product – by winning cycling races. 

And then they get here and some snot-nosed American is embarassing them. He could wreck their careers. Their children might be starving tomorrow – all because some irritating Gringo who knows a little Italian decides to show off, at their expense. They tried to be nice. But he offered them no choice, really. 

I started thinking about all of this today. 

We had a late start because the grocery stores in Porvenir don’t even open until 10 a.m., and we needed food for the next few days before we could leave town. It’s no big deal because we’re only planning to go 36 miles to a refugio place for the evening. 

(We encountered refugios a few days ago. We stayed in one that had a few bunk beds. That was the night that Tim and Cassy ended up arriving just as we were finishing dinner. Anyway – I guess there are a number of these little buildings down here. I think on the theory that with the wind you can’t necessarily camp. Not sure if they’re made for bikers – but bikers seem to use them. There’s no registration system. There’s no fee. They are just places to stay – I guess on a first-come, first-served basis . . .)

So we head out . . . And once we get going things are pretty good. We’re feeling okay and there’s no headwind or anything . . . But it’s not exactly cheery out. Super grey. And eventually it starts to drizzle on and off. We’re changing back and forth out of our rain gear because we don’t want to get our stuff wet, but we also don’t want to sweat and have stuff get wet from the inside.

We come to the ocean – which is very picturesque, with little fishing shanties and stuff – and we stop to change. As we change, we’re admiring the many guanacos that are running around. 

And then, like Dave Stoller biking up to the Italians, this young woman comes biking up – all cheery to see us. 

“Hey!” And she gives us a big smile!

Now, we’ve biked probably about 10,000 miles or so from Minneapolis – and I don’t think I’ve complained about a single person. We’ve just met so many wonderful people.

But there is something about this person – Francine from France – that just kind of rubs me wrong. 

What can we do, though . . .?

We’re biking with her for quite a while. Or, rather, she’s biking with us. And after a while it becomes apparent that she’s headed to the same refugio that we are – at 36 miles from Porvenir. 

“Oh, great. I thought Diana and I could have a nice evening together. Now we’ll have Ms. Congeniality staying with us in a room that is literally 6’ x 10’.”

Now, I didn’t stick my pump into her wheel. I mean I really can’t do that; I need that pump! But eventually she just kind of disappears behind us. 

And I guess it’s on this point that I need a little clarification. I mean, she might have a mechanical problem. Like Kim or Pablo with their flat tires. So are we obligated by some unwritten bike touring code to go back and check on her? 

I hope not. 

Because we didn’t. 

We biked on happily. In fact, secretly I was happy to look over my shoulder and see that she wasn’t anywhere in sight . . . 

Even when we stop to check out the dolphins or sharks or whatever that are swimming around in the ocean about 100’ offshore I’m itchy to get going because I don’t want her to catch up again . . .

When we finally reach the refugio at 36 miles there is no sign of her. But we pretty much know she is coming – because that’s what she said she was going to do . . .

We decide to push on to the next refugio – in twelve miles – because the 36 mile placed is trashed. Broken windows and doors, garbage everywhere, and just generally in rough shape . . . But we’re also pushing on because we don’t want to spend the night with Francine . . . We figure if we push forward we’ll be good . . .

The next twelve miles go quickly – at least partially because we run into some surprise pavement. The next refugio – where we ended up staying – is also trashed – but we’re able to set up our tent under a roof and with a wall or two around us in case the wind comes up – which it is supposed to . . .

We make dinner and speculate on whether Ms. Congeniality had a mechanical – unlikely because she has pretty much a bullet-proof bike with internal hub gearing and even a belt drive – and whether she decided to stay at the trashed refugio at 36 miles – and whether she might still show up at our place . . .

Diana is convinced that she won’t be coming because it’s late – now past 5 – and who would arrive this late? But Diana tends to analyze situations as if other people were like Diana. Diana generally hates biking past 4 – so it seems obvious to her that everyone else would too . . .

By 5:30 I’m in agreement. It just doesn’t seem like we’ll be seeing Francine tonight – just getting too late . . .

I’m busy cooking dinner. Our same basic soup with sausage thing – but with some different vegetables this time. I’m just about to add the little soup packet when I look up – and there’s Francine. 

“Oh, hey, I was thinking I’ll camp here. Is that okay?”

I swallow my tongue for a moment. 

“Uh, yeah, of course . . .” I manage to stammer out, unconvincingly . . .

And in my surprise and confusion I have a little convulsion and end up pouring half the soup packet onto the ground . . . 

So now Francine’s staying here – back behind a few trees, in her tent – while we enjoy the trashed building and its security against rain and wind. 

At one point we discuss the wind that’s coming tomorrow. She tells me that her weather app didn’t tell her it was going to be windy – so she’s not worried about it. I don’t argue with her . . . But I’m pretty sure I saw the big wind symbol starting late tonight – and we are supposed to be in one of the windiest places in the world so it doesn’t seem that far-fetched that it might be a little breezy . . . 

So now I need a decision from the jury? Are we in trouble with the Big Man? Did we have an obligation to go back and check to see if Francine had a mechanical? Was it bad to wish that she would just stay at the 36 mile Refugio? Should we have insisted that she stay in the trashed-out building with us lest the wind blow her and her tent away? 

Or are we as bad as the Italians? 

In other news . . .

We didn’t see a penguin – but, like I said, we did see dolphins or sharks or something circling around in the ocean. Pretty cool.

We saw tons of guanacos and they even bleated at us a little. Who knew guanacos could bleat?

I saw two fox-like things slinking around. I don’t have any service so I can’t check to see if they even have foxes down here – but I’m chalking them up as pumas for now. So cool!

And then this evening I saw one of those gato – cat things that they have down here. 

A pretty impressive day for wildlife. Like Mutual of Patagonia’s Wild Kingdom! But instead of Marlon Perkins we have Dr. Diana Liu! A way better host anyway . . .

We’re not sure what tomorrow will look like. 

Option 1 is a short ride to the next little tiny town, we stay in the hostel there, and then we go to the nearby king penguin colony and check the little guys out. The problem there is that we need a reservation to go and we haven’t been able to secure one yet – at least not for a time that actually works for us. 

Option 2 is a little longer ride that will take us into Argentina and the little town of Saint Sebastian. 

Either way will be good – but I’m kind of hoping for the penguins. How cool is it to bike so far from Minnesota that there are penguins? I know, I know – for some of you winter haters you feel like penguins could just live in Lake Superior . . . But, whatever . . . It may be cold – but it can occasionally get to 80. Don’t think that ever happens down here . . . So stop complaining . . .

Postscript. We ended up sharing dinner with Francine. The wind did, indeed, come up overnight. But I checked this morning before we left and she was good. Young people all seem to sleep in long after we do…