Photo: A stunning start to the ride in Siracusa before heading to Mount Etna.

“Good decisions come from experience. Experience comes
from making bad decisions.” Mark Twain.

This is a story about decisions, good and bad, and their consequences.

The first decision was to enter the event. I wasn’t planning on riding Sicilia No Stop (SNS) for the second time but a series of events starting in Regent’s Park London meant I ended up on the starting line with Mike and Gabriel from Islington Cyclicng Club (ICC). SNS is a 1,032 km ride around the coastal roads of Sicily. This time taking in Mount Etna, a mere 1,900 metres above sea level.

Mike and I were due to ride Paris Brest Paris together on 2023. A few months before Mike fell and fractured his hip joint so PBP 2023 turned into a solo effort.

“What about we ride in Sicily togther in 2024 instead?” he asked? OK, let’s do that. Decision made.

Then our good friend Gino decided to join us but fate intervened again. Gino fell from his bike in February and ended up in a spinal rehabilitaion hospital so was unable to join us. By sheer co-incidence Gabriel asked me about doing the ride. I joined the dots and thanks to Salvatore Giordano (Totó), the SNS organiser, Gabriel took Gino’s place and we were able to refund Gino his money.

On the road, our first decision. Shall we join the train overtaking us on the first leg towards the big climb? Mike and I jumped on the back and thanks to a group of Italian riders wearing Belgian kit and a whole lot more we were transported to the base of the climb an hour quicker than the schedule I’d come up with. Good decision. It was only Mike and me as Gabriel, a stronger rider was already way ahead of us.

Then started the climb that made Mike wonder if he’d made the right decision to even attempt SNS. There were two factors that just didn’t apply to me but made Mike really struggle. The heat and the difficulty of training for a 1,900m climb when you live in Central London. We managed the first half ok but we both knew the second half would be much tougher. At the last water stop in Nicolosi we had 20km to go but 1,200m of climbing. If it was constant it would be exactly 6%, but it never is. The respite of any flat bits have to be paid for by steeper sections. I was fine but Mike really struggled. Having set himself a target of doing a 100m climbing at a time, he had to stop and rest each time. I felt for him. I couldn’t pedal for him but just had to watch my mate struggle and offer any encouragement I could think of.

Despite the heat and lack of climbing training Mike got there in the end. We even had some time for a little fun just short of the summit…

A quick lunch at the summit control then a photo by the Silvestri craters before the long descent back to seal level.

We decided we were due a reward for putting Etna behind us and found a perfect café in Giarre (156 km).

We were half way to the hotel at the end of the day’s ride but it was already four o’clock in the afternoon with another 156 km to go. I decided the only way we were going to get there in reasonable time was to ride on the front to make it as easy as possible for Mike.

As we entered the hotel room just after midnight Gabriel was ready to leave. He’d got so far ahead of us he’d eaten, showered and slept and was back on the road before we could drop off. Except that neither of us dropped off. We couldn’t get the air conditioning to work. It needs to be cool to sleep well. We were sweating in our beds (nice) so maybe we dozed for an hour or two before we started the second day’s ride just after 05:00. Our plan was to get to the next hotel as close to midìnight as we could even though it was 384 km away.

After 45 km we stopped for coffee. The heat, Etna and lack of sleep was taking it’s toll on Mike.

Whilst Mike slept I chatted with a freindly old man. He had a haggard face of someone who’d worked outdoors all his life, he must have weighed at least half as much again as me and was very slow when walking with his stick. I thought he was in bad shape for a 70 something until I discovered he was a year younger than me!

At the first control of the day at San Stefano di Camastra (383 km) Mike was suffering. Then the most significant decision of the whole event. Mike decided that as he was struggling so much he just couldn’t make it. He decided to abandon and seek a train back to Siracusa. I suggested we carry on to Palermo (499 km) and make the decision there but Mike knew his limitations and headed for the station. It’s a tough call to withdraw from a ride. It takes strength to admit your limitations and do the right thing in the circumstances. I resumed alone feeling I’d failed to help get my mate round but I had to respect Mike’s decision.

Despite riding into the headwind alone for over a 100 km I was on target to arrive at the hotel at midnight. Then it was my turn to make a decsion. If Mike’s was the most significant, mine was the most stupid.

Heading out of Palermo towards the control the traffic was racing past so I decided to move onto the “cycle lane” for a while. Considering I’d ridden along them two years ago and warned Gabriel and Mike how bad they could be before we started it was a crazy thing to do. Maybe I was more tired than I thought and it sullied my judgement. Under the shade of a tree I saw the hazard. Too late. BANG BANG. Both wheels hit the ridge right across the path. Two punctures. No problem, I can fix punctures in about 10 minutes each. Not this time. I got the front tyre done but I just couldn’t get the rear to inflate. Mike and I agreed to carry two inner tubes and two CO2 canisters each plus we had others in the hotels via the bag drop service so we should always have plenty. Without Mike and having not picked up any more spares overnight as they were not needed I was facing a 3km walk to the control and some help.

Then an angel appeared. “A posto Colin?”, “No” I replied. Stopping to turn around my friend Donata Agostini rode back to me. We used his pump to inflate my tyre where mine had failed. It was enough to get me to the control. Grazie mille Donato. My saviour.

At the control I couldn’t believe my luck. A support van had a track pump and there was a bike shop right across the road where I could stock up on inner tubes and CO2. It was 15:20 and the shop opened at 15:30. Perfect. Except small shops are subject to the vagaries of their owners. 15:30 came and went, as did 15:40 and 15:50. Still closed. With no spares my best bet was to explain my predicament and join a group. Between them there were enough tubes for several punctures if needed.

Even better the group included people I knew. Lorenzo Brunello, Pino Leone, Fioravante Pisaturo and Luigi. I had met Luigi doing ICC laps of Regent’s Park a year before. He said he was so inspired by my stories of long distance riding that he’d give SNS 24 a go. Even better for him is that he’s Sicilian so it was a home fixture. So four ICCers started the ride, not three. Small world.

The pace was comfortable, which is a polite way of saying it was a little slower than when I was alone, but they had tubes, I didn’t. I needed them more than they needed me but at least I took long turns on the front to pay my way. I was amongst friends and enjoyng stunning views in the sunshine.

It was the 21st May. The anti mafia posters were up in Capaci to commorate the killing of anti mafia magistrate Giovanni Falcone, his wife and three policemen on the 23rd May 1992.

Group riding has the advantage of being able to spread the load on the front but stops are always much longer than if you are on your own. My plan of getting to the hotel at about midnight began to fade. Not helped by having to wait for the blade of a wind turbine leaving a factory onto the road at 22:30. We had our own escort to get us past the 50 metre blade.

Another stop for late night pizza put our sleep time back further but we did enjoy some great night riding along the coast illuminted by moonlight.

We arrived at the hotel at 03:16. Later than planned but Sod’s Law, no punctures. Waiting for me was a spare tube and CO2 in my drop bag and a little gift from Gabriel who’d left several hours before me. Thank you Gabriel.

Armed with spares I was free to make other decisions on the final day, but not before helping out a friend in need as we left the hotel at 07:00. Maurizio Nese had just arrived and was in need of some sleep but hadn’t booked a room. No problem. I showed him up to our room and left him the key. He used Mike’s unused bed and towels. I returned Donato’s favour. Maurizio called me his saviour but it was Mike who saved him. Cycling Karma.

I didn’t know it but several decisions lay ahead of me on the final leg back to Siracusa.

The first was do I slow down? We’d stopped for coffee just 36 km into the first day. Fioravante had been riding off the front already and didn’t stop so we were already one rider less. As is normal with a group the coffee stop took longer than strictly necessary. I had time to record our stop at Sciacca where Luigi used to go with his family to buy fish.

On the long straight road I took my turn on the front, matching the previous riders speed. I started to pull away slightly then a much bigger gap opened up as we descended at speed. Ahead of me was a tractor grinding it’s way up the next hill. I carried so much speed I overtook it and drove on to a tunnel, whose entrance seemed to be enticing me to push on. After the tunnel I didn’t see the group again.

After the control at Agrigento (782 km) I caught up with Fioravante. My second decision of the day. We teamed up and made a great TT team, swapping places at the front. We joked that as were were blessed with a tail wind it was the guy at the back who was taking the wind. It was a great decision as we rode together to the finish, well almost.

We had one fun decision to make. We’d learnt that a storm had recently removed a small bridge on the beach just after Scoglitti (888 km). We could take a small detour or get there and work out how to cross. As we’d ridden along boring busy roads we decided to have some fun. This was the problem:

There were two solutions to chose from. Either walk through the water with your shoes and socks still on and let them dry out whilst riding, or take them off and dry your feet on the other side.

We went for this option:

The heat soon dried our feet and we were on our way. Next stops were the controls at Marina di Ragusa (901 km) and Portopalo di Capo (966 km). After leaving the last control before the finish with only 59 km to go Fioravante’s bike starting making strange noises. We couldn’t work out what it was but I’ve never known a bike problem resolve itself by riding, it usually only gets worse. With 40 km to go the route turned left, Fiora went straight ahead. I shouted “sinistra, sinistra” but he was gone. I waited for 5 minutes to see if he would return but I had to make my final decision of the whole ride. Wait, try to follow or stick to the route. I chose to continue on the route as I had no idea where he was going. He called a while later to explain he was so concerned about the noise he thought it better to head direct to the finish rather than get stranded. That didn’t quite work out so he ended up back on the route anyway, finishing a little behind me. Rear wheel bearings were the culprits. A shame we didn’t finish together but it was only a few km on our own.

The finish was an anti climax. Unlike two years ago when we finished in a hotel complex the start/finish was an Italian Air Force base. Two years ago there were people clapping us back in, a bar, music and food. Whilst the accommodation in the barracks was excellent the finish was such a disappointment. So quiet. I have to thank Mike for staying up after midnight to wait for me with a very welcome beer. The limit was 75 hours, I clocked in at 66 hours and 3 minutes. Gabriel got back well before me in 60 hours 34. Chapeau.

We reflected on all the decisions we’d made over the last three days. Mike had taken a train to Agrigento and then cycled the 200 km to Siracusa arriving at 06:00 on the Wednesday so at least he’d got 600km of riding in Sicily and had conquered Etna.

We also thought about our great friend Gino. We thought about him and talked a lot about him on the way round. He would have really enjoyed it but now he has very different challenges to face. Forza Gino.

A huge thank you to Salvatore Giordano (Totó) and all the volunteers from the Nuova Tyndaris cycling club for putting on the event and supporting us on the way round.

And finally.

Thursday was recovery day. We slept a little then walked to the tourist island of Ortigia for traditional recovery drinks.

Another little snooze then back out for dinner.

We ate a ridculous amount of food but we’d all burnt a lot of calories (18,687 in my case) one way or another over the last three days so we felt we deserved it. Cin cin.