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Bart C Shuldman

@bart.b.q

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🚴‍♂️➡️🛥️🇮🇹 THE DAILY SPOKE: LIFE AFTER TURBO

I know I said The Daily Spoke was over. Apparently, retiring it was a lot like staying out of Turbo—easier said than done.

Thank you to everyone who followed along and sent kind comments. I loved sharing the climbs, laughs and my complicated relationship with Turbo.

But one final story remained—this time from the water.

After 164 miles and 19,000 feet, the bicycles were done—but our anniversary celebration was not.

We spent Friday in Sorrento, with roots in Greek and Roman times and a later life as a Grand Tour stop for European writers and artists.

We stayed at the Grand Hotel Excelsior Vittoria. Opened in 1834, it appeared in the 1972 movie Avanti! with Jack Lemmon.

On Saturday, Sue and I boarded a 43-foot boat I had chartered months earlier—just us and Captain Giuseppe.

I hadn’t realized it then, but after a week with Turbo, I had planned the perfect upgrade: a captain, an engine and no pedaling.

No battery percentage to monitor. And when a hill appeared, there was Benito and his cab.

We arrived in Capri before the crowds, docked and let Benito drive us to the top—and, just as importantly, back down.

After a week of climbing by bicycle, being driven uphill felt like cheating—and I loved every minute.

From there, we cruised to Nerano for lunch at Conca del Sogno.

Think Nikki Beach in St. Barts—but Italian, with spectacular scenery and pasta doing the talking.

We cruised past Positano, then stopped for a swim in the Mediterranean.

After a week trying not to fall off a bicycle, jumping into the sea seemed perfectly reasonable.

We really wanted to see the Amalfi Coast, and what better way than from the water? It turns out the coastline is even more beautiful when no one is asking me to pedal up it.

On Sunday, we left for Sicily to meet friends from our yacht club. Our anniversary celebration had ended, but our Italian adventure had not.

Like this trip, our 32 years together have had climbs, unexpected turns, laughter and views worth every mile. Best of all, our journey gave us two beautiful daughters and a wonderful family.

Happy anniversary, Sue. You are the best. I love you. ❤️ taken in Amalfi Coast,italy by @bart.b.q

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3 days ago

🚴🇮🇹 THE DAILY SPOKE
Stories from the Saddle on the Amalfi Coast

THE FINAL SPOKE — PART 4
THE PERFECT FINISH

Our adventure was not over.

We took a bus to Paestum, the ancient Greek city founded around 600 BCE, where its enormous temples remain among the world’s best-preserved.

Because after riding 38 miles and climbing 4,500 feet, what everyone wanted was a walking tour of 2,600-year-old ruins.

No kidding—we stopped there.

Another bus took us to the Port of Agropoli, where we boarded a 38-foot boat for Amalfi.

Instead of arriving by bicycle, bus or car, we approached from the sea. Towns and buildings clung to the cliffs above us.

Before docking, two riders jumped into the water. At 6:30 PM, Sue and I decided that might not be our best decision of the week.

Our final hotel, Monastero Santa Rosa, is a restored 17th-century monastery perched above the Amalfi Coast. Its nuns created the original sfogliatella Santa Rosa pastry.

So we began the day admiring pastries and ended at the birthplace of another.

Our leaders offered a hike the next morning.

After roughly 164 miles and at least 19,000 feet of climbing—more than 3½ vertical miles—Sue and I courageously chose the infinity pool.

We had climbed enough of Italy for one week.

But the best part was the people.

Five couples and two extraordinary leaders, Alessandro and Giacomo, climbed, laughed and ate far too much together.

We came for a bicycle trip. We leave with new friendships, unforgettable memories—and enormous appreciation for whoever invented Turbo.

The bicycles are finished.

The stories are not.

What a ride. What a week. What a group.

The final Daily Spoke from the saddle. 🚴‍♂️⛰️⚡️🇮🇹 by @bart.b.q

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7 days ago

🚴🇮🇹 THE DAILY SPOKE
Stories from the Saddle on the Amalfi Coast

THE FINAL SPOKE — PART 3
FOURTH GEAR AND EAU DE BUFFALO

After 31 miles mostly uphill, we had climbed more than 4,500 feet.

During the final portion, I discovered that Turbo had an even more powerful relative: the battery extender.

I considered it fourth gear.

We also learned that my bicycle had an older battery that did not hold a charge as long as the others.

This is a true story.

After an entire week of people questioning my relationship with Turbo, I had finally been vindicated.

It was never me.

It was the battery.

The extender helped Turbo and me survive the final climbs before we enjoyed a seven-mile descent to a buffalo-mozzarella farm for lunch.

The herd was directly below where we ate.

Let’s just say fresh mozzarella was not the only aroma in the air.

It was less “farm to table” and more “farm at the table.”

The flies, having spent their morning with the buffalo, joined us when the cheese and meat arrived.

Apparently, they were also on an all-inclusive tour.

The homemade gelato was excellent, and with that, our cycling adventure was officially over.

It was time to say goodbye to my bicycle—and to Turbo.

But let the record show: Turbo was an assist, not a chauffeur.

I pedaled every mile, and the cramps in my legs the next morning provided all the evidence anyone should need. 🚴‍♂️⚡️🦬🍦 by @bart.b.q

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7 days ago

🚴🇮🇹 THE DAILY SPOKE
Stories from the Saddle on the Amalfi Coast

THE FINAL SPOKE — PART 2
YOUTH, COBBLESTONES AND POTATO CHIPS

We continued climbing through villages, olive farms and hillsides that photographs cannot fully capture.

At one point, I thought I had finally found Hemingway’s Old Man and the Sea.

Unfortunately, he was standing in the mountains.

Wrong old man.

Our next stop was Perdifumo and its Fountain of Youth.

Clearly, I needed all I could drink.

Unfortunately, reaching it required riding over a long stretch of large cobblestones.

The water may have made me feel younger, but those cobblestones reminded me exactly why bicycle shorts have padding—and which part of the body needs it most.

Let’s just say the Fountain of Youth had its work cut out for it.

From there, we continued to Cicerale, where the menu was water and potato chips.

After all the elaborate meals we had enjoyed, our nutritional strategy had finally been reduced to its essentials: hydration and salt.

The local bartender and a couple sitting nearby watched us arrive, refuel and prepare to climb again.

For a few minutes, we may have been the best entertainment in Cicerale.

We finally reached Trentinara, where friends of Alessandro bake bread for the towns below.

They showed us their traditional wood-fired oven and let us sample the bread.

Fresh Italian bread after climbing for 31 miles may be one of life’s great pleasures.

And, unlike the maritozzo, we ate this one. 🚴‍♂️🥖💧🇮🇹 by @bart.b.q

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7 days ago

🚴🇮🇹 THE DAILY SPOKE
Stories from the Saddle on the Amalfi Coast

THE FINAL SPOKE — PART 1
A FAT HUSBAND AND ANOTHER MOUNTAIN

Our final ride was going to be one of the toughest: 38 miles and more than 4,500 feet of climbing.

The first 31 miles were essentially uphill. The final seven were downhill.

In simple terms: climb most of the day and then enjoy seven miles of gravity as our reward.

This route took us inland through the hills of the Cilento and into small villages we never would have seen without bicycles.

Stone houses, narrow streets and spectacular views appeared around every turn.

Of course, to see a town built high on a hill, you first have to ride to the top of that hill.

One stop was Pasticceria La Ruota, where we enjoyed espresso and cappuccino while admiring the pastries.

Sue found a maritozzo—a soft bun generously filled with cream.

The name is affectionately derived from the Italian word for husband.

Sue’s interpretation was “fat husband.”

Looking at the pastry—and then looking at me—I understood why she thought it was appropriate.

It looked delicious, but knowing how much climbing remained, we wisely left it in the case.

For once, the fat husband showed restraint.

Then it was back on the bicycles and back to climbing.

Apparently, Italian pastry shops do not offer delivery service to the top of the mountain. 🚴‍♂️🥐⛰️🇮🇹 by @bart.b.q

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7 days ago

🚴🇮🇹 THE DAILY SPOKE
Stories from the Saddle on the Amalfi Coast

OLIVES, OLD MEN AND A PRINCESS — PART 3

After our enormous lunch at Paisà, we received three choices:

Take the van to our new hotel…

Ride eight miles…

Or ride 17 miles, including a nine-mile climb.

After careful consideration—and demonstrating far more intelligence than we had the previous day—Sue and I chose eight miles.

Five of us selected that route, and Chris immediately assumed command.

He did an excellent impression of Giacomo and Alessandro—leading confidently, keeping everyone together and looking completely in control.

Right up until we reached our destination.

Chris rode straight past it.

Apparently, finding the hotel was not included in the responsibilities of leading us there.

But he was a terrific leader, and his unexpected extension made the story even better.

Four people took the van.

Mike, whom I now believe may actually be part bicycle, joined Alessandro for the 17-mile route and its nine-mile climb.

There is always one person who hears “nine-mile climb” and thinks, “That sounds enjoyable.”

Mike is that person.

Our new hotel, Palazzo Belmonte, sits beside the sea in Santa Maria di Castellabate, surrounded by beautiful grounds and a spectacular pool.

The Palazzo has been the home of the Granito Pignatelli di Belmonte family for generations. It once served as both a summer residence and a storage center for grain, olive oil and wine produced on the family’s farms.

After riding through olive groves and past vineyards, we had arrived at a palace historically used to store olive oil and wine.

The trip had finally begun to make sense.

That evening, we enjoyed cocktails with the Princess, one of Palazzo Belmonte’s owners. She was charming, gracious and full of wonderful stories.

Most of us finished the evening at the same local pizza restaurant, where we had some of the best pizza I have ever eaten.

Ancel Keys might have questioned the amount.

I considered it essential recovery food.

Olive groves, seaside villages, old men, incredible food and a princess.

Only in Italy. 🚴‍♂️🫒🍕👑 taken in Santa Maria Di Castellabate (Salerno) by @bart.b.q

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8 days ago

🚴🇮🇹 THE DAILY SPOKE
Stories from the Saddle on the Amalfi Coast

OLIVES, OLD MEN AND A PRINCESS — PART 2

After coffee in Ascea, the next 15 miles or so took us back along the coast.

Every town seemed to have its own beach, gathering place and spectacular view of the sea.

We stopped in Pioppi to visit the statue of Ancel Keys, the American physiologist who lived and conducted research there for decades. His studies helped establish the connection between the traditional Mediterranean diet and better heart health.

Considering the astonishing amount of food prepared for us on this trip, our group might have made an excellent follow-up study.

I suspect his conclusion would have been:

“The Mediterranean diet is extremely healthy—as long as Bart’s cycling group does not eat all of it at every meal.”

We continued past a vineyard and more beautiful seaside views before stopping in Acciaroli.

Local tradition says Ernest Hemingway spent time there in the early 1950s and that its fishermen may have helped inspire The Old Man and the Sea.

Historians say the inspiration story has never been confirmed, but after visiting Acciaroli, it is easy to see how the legend began.

I can personally confirm one important detail:

We saw many old men by the sea.

From there, we rode to Agnone, where Pasquale, the owner of Paisà, prepared an enormous lunch.

Apparently, word had not reached him that we had just visited a statue honoring the Mediterranean diet.

The food kept arriving, and we even tasted green olives prepared from the local harvest.

By now, I was beginning to understand the Mediterranean diet.

Apparently, the secret is to eat everything—and then ride another mountain. 🚴‍♂️🫒🍷🇮🇹 taken in Cilento Coast by @bart.b.q

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8 days ago

🚴🇮🇹 THE DAILY SPOKE
Stories from the Saddle on the Amalfi Coast

OLIVES, OLD MEN AND A PRINCESS — PART 1

After the Beauty and the Beast, yesterday’s ride offered something different: agriculture, science, literature, royalty—and, naturally, another mountain.

We began in Pisciotta and followed the coast briefly before turning inland.

And then we entered another world.

For more than 15 miles, we rode through an enormous olive grove covering the hillsides.

It was beautiful, peaceful and filled with thousands of olive trees.

It was also uphill.

Very uphill.

We climbed roughly 2,500 feet as we worked our way through the groves.

Cilento has produced olive oil since ancient Greek settlers introduced olive cultivation to southern Italy more than 2,500 years ago. The area is known for its Pisciottana olive trees, many of which are centuries old and somehow thrive on these steep hillsides.

I admire anything capable of surviving on those hills.

After riding up them, I now consider the olive tree one of nature’s greatest athletes.

Harvest season begins soon, so olives were hanging from the trees and large nets had been spread beneath them.

Machines can shake the trees on flatter ground, but people must enter these steep groves with handheld equipment, rakes or poles to shake the olives loose.

Looking at the terrain, I concluded that harvesting olives here may be one of the few activities more difficult than riding a bicycle through them.

I may never again have the chance to ride through such a vast olive grove, so I stopped several times for pictures.

One of my favorites shows a small town built directly into the hills among the trees. It looked as if the town and the grove had grown there together.

We finished in Ascea with coffee alongside several older Italian men who were drinking theirs and telling stories.

They looked completely relaxed.

We looked like we had just climbed 2,500 feet through an olive grove.

Because we had. 🚴‍♂️🫒⛰️🇮🇹 taken in Cilento Coast by @bart.b.q

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8 days ago

🚴🇮🇹 THE DAILY SPOKE
Stories from the Saddle on the Amalfi Coast

BEAUTY AND THE BEAST — PART 2

Part 1 was the Beauty: 20 spectacular miles along the sea.

Now for the Beast.

Lunch was at La Taverna del Mozzo in Marina di Camerota, overlooking the marina.

According to our leaders, the only way to reach a restaurant at sea level was to climb six miles up a mountain—at grades of 5% to 9%—then ride down the other side.

At least, that is what they told us. I remain unconvinced there wasn’t a flatter road.

There were no level sections and no mercy. We passed through two towns, and each time I thought, “This must be the top.”

It was not.

And so we continued climbing. And climbing. And climbing.

By the end of the first ride, we had climbed more than 4,000 feet.

Then came the switchbacks: tight, banked hairpin turns—left, right, then left again—as the road zigzags down the mountain.

Nothing to do with a television remote, although halfway down I would have gladly pressed pause.

Before descending, Alessandro gave us a serious safety talk. I listened carefully—especially to the parts that appeared to mean, “Do not fly off the mountain.”

The turns would have been fun for an F1 driver. I descended like a man carrying an open glass of red wine.

After lunch—and more than 35 miles—we could take the van to the hotel or ride another 14 miles.

Most wisely chose the van. Sue and I joined Mike and Giacomo. We demonstrated less judgment.

Before the second ride, our leaders quietly installed a battery extender on my bike. Perhaps an extra battery was cheaper than organizing a search party.

Either way, I could again rely on my trusted friend: TURBO.

The additional ride was mostly uphill and added nearly another 4,000 feet. We finished with more than 47 miles and close to 8,000 feet of climbing.

Sue and Mike were so far ahead of me during the second ride that I believe they entered a different time zone.

Our entire group conquered the Beast. We will each have our own recollection of that first climb—although none of us will remember it as “fun.”

But we all made it—and we made it together.

What a day. What a ride. And what a group! 🚴‍♂️⛰️🇮🇹 taken in Marina Di Camerota, Campania, Italy by @bart.b.q

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9 days ago

🚴🇮🇹 THE DAILY SPOKE
Stories from the Saddle on the Amalfi Coast

BEAUTY AND THE BEAST — PART 1

There are many definitions of beauty.

Today, we rode through one of them.

We left the wonderful Santavenere Hotel in Maratea—a place with comfortable beds, beautiful views and, most importantly, floors that do not go uphill—and began biking along the coastline.

For roughly 20 miles, the sea was on our left, the cliffs on our right, and everywhere we looked was another spectacular view. Some places cannot be captured in words. This coastline is one of them.

Along the way, we encountered a roadblock caused by what appeared to be a rockslide. Apparently, when you build a road between the sea and a cliff, occasionally the cliff decides it would also like to use the road.

After considerable discussion—and some impressive Italian negotiating—Alessandro persuaded them to let us through. Somehow a closed road became an open road.

I learned that in Italy, a road is only officially closed until the right person has a long enough conversation beside the barrier.

Giacomo led today’s ride and could not have been nicer. Both leaders have been terrific—although after seeing what they consider a “reasonable” day of cycling, I am questioning their definition of nice.

After about 10 miles, we stopped for coffee in Sapri, famous for Carlo Pisacane’s failed 1857 expedition and the poem La Spigolatrice di Sapri—The Gleaner of Sapri.

The town’s statue of the young woman became controversial because of her very clearly defined backside.

For the record, I was photographing an important historical monument.

Besides, after several hours on a bicycle, I was far more concerned about my own butt than hers. Bike shorts were definitely not the solution to my butt problems.

That spectacular ride along the sea was the Beauty. taken in Chiesa San Giovanni Battista Sapri by @bart.b.q

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9 days ago

🚴 THE DAILY SPOKE
Stories from the Saddle on the Amalfi Coast

Third Edition: Turbo, Trecchina and Two Sore Points

For two days, Sue and I admired Christ the Redeemer high above Maratea. Today, someone decided we should ride our bikes up there. Crazy—but let’s start at the beginning.

Our group includes five couples from different parts of the U.S., and everyone couldn’t be nicer. We are led by Alessandro and Giacomo, who are terrific. During the bike fitting, we identified Mike and Chris as the two serious cyclists—excellent news for us.

They helped us navigate the narrow roads and incredibly tight hairpin turns. Going uphill through them was manageable. Going downhill was downright scary. Gravity may be free, but it is not always your friend.

We rode pedal-assist bikes: no throttle and no free ride—the motor helps only while you pedal. There are three settings, and “turbo” is a beautiful Italian word.

After a few practice miles, we climbed toward Christ the Redeemer. Photos cannot capture the steepness, but we both loved the challenge. The planned ride was 24 miles with 2,600 feet of elevation. Thank you, Matt Clynne: those squats and leg lifts paid off.

The 21-meter statue was completed in 1965. It replaced a cross repeatedly damaged by lightning; entrepreneur Stefano Rivetti later proposed the monument.

After descending, we crossed the hillside to Il Giardino di Epicuro. Owner Antonio was quite a character, and it felt like eating in his home—which we practically were. His mother cooked everything: eight appetizers and two pasta courses. So much food that lunch became an endurance event of its own.

Then came the choice: finish—or add another 17 miles uphill to Trecchina. Anyone who knows Sue knows there was no choice. Only Mike, Chris, Sue and I accepted, led by Alessandro. Game on.

I used turbo the entire climb. Had there been a fourth setting called “divine intervention,” I would have used that too.

Seven hours, 41 miles and roughly 4,200 feet of climbing later, we had a blast. I finished with two sore points—both on my bottom. They gave us padded bike shorts. Tomorrow, I plan to wear mine.

Lesson learned. 🚴😂🇮🇹 taken in Costa Di Maratea by @bart.b.q

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10 days ago

🚴 THE DAILY SPOKE
Stories from the Saddle on the Amalfi Coast

Second Edition: The Last Day of Innocence

After a 26-hour journey, today’s agenda was simple: do as little as possible. We spent the day by the water. The sea was beautiful, the weather perfect and, most importantly, no bicycle was in sight.

Reaching the water meant walking down a winding path and many stone steps. Going down was magnificent. Coming back up felt like the 29029 challenge at Whistler—but in reverse. The easy part came first and the suffering was saved for the end. Apparently, the hotel wanted us ready for tomorrow.

Before leaving for dinner, we saw the bike company setting everything up at the hotel. Until then, this had still felt like a relaxing Italian vacation. Suddenly, the nerves kicked in. The bicycles are real, the hills are real and tomorrow it is showtime.

We were driven into Maratea on roads so winding and narrow that we began wondering what we had gotten ourselves into. Then Sue quietly put on her motion-sickness bands. I said nothing, but silently questioned our strategic decision to bike this coastline.

Maratea is clearly where Italians come for their own vacations—which is always a good sign.

I also learned that “tutto bene” may be Italy’s most useful phrase. The food? Tutto bene. The wine? Tutto bene. My legs tomorrow? We’ll get back to you.

And when you order parmigiana here, it isn’t chicken, veal or even shrimp—it’s eggplant. Delicious eggplant parmigiana. Anyone who knows how often I ask for eggplant on my pizza will understand: I may have found my people. I could live here.

Dinner begins around 8:00, so when we finished, a band was playing in the town square. We didn’t understand a word, but after dinner and wine, we were completely fluent in applause.

I know Sue will do great. My goal is simply to remain upright. Sue, Joe and Kelly may remember that I once fell off a Segway in Portugal because I became distracted by an interesting sight. Joe, tomorrow I promise to keep my eyes on the road—and not on you know what.

The relaxing part is officially over. Tomorrow, The Daily Spoke finally earns its name. 🚴🍷🇮🇹 taken in Maratea by @bart.b.q

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11 days ago