Of synchronized dances, quadruple espressos and focaccia rides

When you say ultracycling, you say food.

When you hear the word ‘ultracycling’, you think of something where some crazy people cycle all day long across countries towards an arbitrarily chosen destination.

Every time I look at the photos from the VIA Race, however, I discover something new. Yet a year has passed, and I have looked through them dozens of times for work reasons. For example, the last time I browsed through the Lightroom folder, I was struck by the issue of food, which is always very subjective when cycling. Most of the ultracyclists I know cycle to eat (starting with me), so I shouldn’t be surprised to find so many photos of supermarkets, restaurants, kebab shops, improvised tables and stalls that are as rotten as they are inviting.

Everyone experiences meals in their own way. What’s more, every stop, every meal has its own story, usually unique and universal.

There’s Will, whom I’ve been following since he crossed Monginevro: he stops at all the greengrocers in Oulx, asks a couple of questions and leaves. He’s probably looking for something specific, because he doesn’t give up until he finds it in the local supermarket. It’s rather unusual to waste so much time when you’re among the leaders in the race, but in reality, it’s the norm.At the refuge, near the San Francesco Velodrome, the first question is never “Who’s already arrived?”, nor “Where are the camp beds?”, but “What’s there to eat?”. And at the end of the race, after 4,000 km, the cyclists immediately organize daily pizza rides to bring supplies to base camp.

As soon as the group of finishers grows, there is a split: the pizza rides become races, while the more relaxed enjoy pizza strolls.

In the race, we find everything. Somewhere in one of the villages of the Bassa, we find Chris at dawn. When he asks for a ‘Quadruple coffee, please,’ no one really understands, he tells us. So, to save time, he gestures with his fingers, looking straight at the barista until he is really convinced. 

There’s Sam, who immediately becomes famous in the race chats for the amount of food he eats, but also for the veteran tricks he quickly learns. In Abruzzo, he first eats wild fruit in front of a closed level crossing, while Ryan interviews him and I instantly doze off at the wheel. Then, at the next bar (while I instantly doze off at the table), we discover that he throws bunches of ice lollies into the water bag in his backpack, so the water is flavoured (and sweetened) but above all keeps his back cool. When it’s 38°C, even half an hour of relief is important.

Food is also important for consolation, as it is for Eivind: we keep him company while he stuffs himself with ice cream in a bar in Asciano, after he has fallen and is considering whether or not to withdraw.

His routine, since entering Italy, has been four pizzas a day. Perhaps that is one of the reasons he entered the race. It is certainly one of the reasons why we will see him again at the starting line in Giovinazzo.

There is the Swiss couple, who dance in sync at every stop according to a precise script; their hands brush each other as they pass supplies and put them in their bags, without wasting gestures or time. In pairs, downtime multiplies, except in their case.

There is Pawel, who wanders around the supermarket and has lunch on the adjacent pavement. Not far away is Ben – no, not the man with the watermelon, the one behind him – who doesn’t even need to sit down to eat. But there are also those who are comfortable, like Tony. In Rieti, he can’t resist the call of porchetta and enjoys a break on a busy highway, more satisfied than his pursuers (Pawel) who are finally overtaking him.

Then there are the looks: in the village of Volturara, there is a bar where everyone stops to stock up before the very last climb. It is the only bar, so those who pass by at closing time are left empty-handed. On the other hand, those who find it open are entitled to the attention of the whole village. Joanna is not one for many words and gets her business done in a few minutes, so the locals fall back on us, inundating us with “In my day, bikes…” and “Once I cycled from Palermo to…”.

Finally, there is also the story of the series “How small the world is”, a must for every cycling adventure. It happens towards the end, when Rafael stops at a kebab shop in San Salvo for the last stop before the final sprint – 220 km to Giovinazzo. It is night, perhaps one or two o’clock, and only Momo is open, but the place is deserted. Rafael orders a pizza to eat there and one to take away, rolled up, which he slips into the pockets on his back. Momo is excited, as are all those who encounter these exhausted adventurers on a quiet weekday. But Momo has one more reason. While kneading and baking, he tells us that before moving here, he ran a restaurant on the Romagna coast with Pantani’s sister. Rafael, Ryan and I – who are there looking for photos and videos – are all three stunned by Momo’s thousand stories, and he invites us to come back next year. Who knows, on 26 July, while we are chasing the second edition, we might actually manage to make a small detour from the route.

What is VIA

With a focus on adventure, community and competition, the first chapter of VIA pays homage to the grassroots of ultra distance racing. VIA is a trilogy consisting of three chapters over the next three years, starting with a 4000km race across Europe in 2024.

Chapter II will start in Giovinazzo and finish in Amerongen, Netherlands.

You can follow VIA race on Instagram @via_race or on the website https://via-race.com/

Credits text and pics:
Text byEdoardo Frezet
Pics by Ryan Le Garrec, James Robertson ed Edoardo Frezet (Cicloreporter) – VIA Race