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plunging headlong in the moonlight | photo gallery
Plunging Headlong in the Moonlight
It's a duel between nature and my sensorial ability; in fact, I don't always find the right path and skid to get back in the right direction.
It's a continual braking and speeding up again; the downhill stretches I get right are faced blindly, two fingers on the brake lever and full speed ahead, hoping the goats we saw at dusk have all gone to sleep.
There's also more satisfaction in facing slopes in the dark: you can't see how long they are but only feel them in your legs and, if those legs are good ones, even the world's most moderate biker feels the thrill of pushing to the limit.
No sight of the others, which means something has gone wrong; in fact, Michele has had a flat tyre due to his impetus going downhill.
It doesn't matter; those few kilometres racing along were enough to savour the fascination of speed in the dark. It's a chance to take a souvenir photo of Michele, who merits a close-up.
Back on the bike and back to the forcing interrupted by the flat tyre, Simone goes on ahead with Marco and I in his wake: the dust is even harder to bear in the dark.
We're ready for the attack when we hear a noise like a shot. We stop dead and do an about-face in the direction of the laughter of the others, who are jeering at Michele: the "shot" was the inner tube of his tyre exploding.
The umpteenth pit stop, but luckily, "Eta Beta" pulls out his magic CO2 spray and in a flash has the tyre at the proper pressure.
By now, we've lost our rhythm, and we set off towards the paved stretch skirting the hills, commenting on the bad luck we've had the whole trip.
Laughing and joking, we join the crowd that at 11:00 p.m. is still enlivening Pula's little square.
from the top
Close-up of Michele
A pit stop