Giro d'Chianti
(continuation)

A mile outside of Castellina, I followed what turned out to be an absolutely sublime road on the way to Radda, to the east. The road started out with a fast, but widely-banked twisting descent, followed by more enjoyable gently undulating stretches. I must say I was impressed with the conditions of the main roads in Tuscany; they were paved almost with the cyclists in mind. I suppose good roads are necessary for a region that relies a lot on tourism.


(Above: On the way to Radda from Castellina)

The mid-day sun was out, offsetting the cooling effects of the gentle breeze that raced down from the hillsides. Here and there, trees shook their vibrant green leaves as I rode by; but whether it was to cheer me on, or in dalliance with the wind, I didn’t know. Out yonder, I can barely make out villages and distant vineyards blending in imperceptible gradations from green to blue to gray then into the horizon. Except for the paving of the road, I wouldn’t be surprised if the landscape was much like it was 500 years ago when a painter from Vinci (just north of Chianti), the illegitimate son of a Florentine lawyer and a peasant girl, decided to use the Tuscan landscape as background to of his paintings--a portrait of a merchant’s wife, a rather chubby lady with an enigmatic smile. Did Leonardo ever foresee that his painting would one day end up enclosed in glass at the Louvre, with mobs of Japanese tourists elbowing each other trying to take a picture of the picture?


Leonardo (1452-1519) was a rare genius by all standards. He worked in Florence and in Milan (for Ludovico Sforza, Duke of Milan). His famous "Last Supper" was commissioned jointly by Ludovico and the monks of Santa Maria delle Grazie, and was painted on the convent’s wall (where, owing to dampness and the tempera medium used, the painting began deteriorating almost immediately). But painting was a mere sideline to him. Leonardo also devised a system of hydraulic irrigation that used in the Lombard region of Italy and was variously employed as an engineer, architect and scientist. He had a wide knowledge and understanding of geology, botany, anatomy, physiology, aeronautics and many other fields.

An experiment was conducted to replicate Leonardo’s genius after his death. His half-brother fathered a son by a girl from the same village as Leonardo’s mother. The boy, Pierino da Vinci, was raised in one of Florence’s prestigious academies. He showed great talent, and some of his works were misattributed to Michaelangelo. But he died prematurely at age 23 before the success of the experiment can be satisfatorily "determined."

Though I was still in the building-up stages of my cycling training this season, I was feeling quite good, good enough to attempt the hills with bigger gears than I was using just last week in England’s Peak District. It was one of those rare moments when I felt, naively perhaps, that all was right with the world.

The scenery felt familiar. The sweeping vistas, the vineyards, and the sun-drenched hills reminded me of favorite roads back home in the wine country of Northern California. I could have been riding on Dry Creek Road just outside of Healdsburg, or the hilly stretches of San Helena or the Alexander Valley or any of the complex network of quiet roads that interconnect small villages in Sonoma and Napa counties.

Radda, my next destination, was an impressive looking settlement perched atop a hill. All these towers and wall fortifications bear testimony to Chianti’s (and indeed, the whole of Tuscany’s) embattled past. Cities such as Radda and Castellina were especially vulnerable because of the constant warring between its more formidable neighbors: Florence and Siena. Back in the medieval ages, what is now unified Italy used to be an area comprising fiercely independent city republics, who formed alliances as quickly as they were severed. Sieges and plagues were a prominent part of medieval life in Tuscany.

Partly to fortify themselves against their stronger neighbors, Radda, Gaiole, and Castellina established the Chianti League in 1415, with Radda being the seat. The league’s insignia, the Black Rooster, is now the trademark of the Chianti Classico wine consortium.


(Above: Radda in Chianti)

From Radda, I had intended to follow the road southeast towards Lecchi before heading back up the SS408 through Gaiole. After a steep drop down to (what I thought was) the eastern side of Radda, I came upon a three-way junction with a bewildering array of signposts, none of which contained the towns I was looking for. Eenie, minnie, minemo…I followed the road that looked most inviting. The fact that none of the cars from the main road was going my way should have warned me…After another kilometer or so, I realized I had been following a minor road to Volpaia, a settlement that was a mere 180 degrees from the direction I needed to take. What to do? To turn around meant going back up the steep wall to Radda. Radda’s fortress was visible from the valley where I ended up, but O, the road to the fortress looked steep, and the top so far away. The hell with Radda. I got back on my bike, shrugged my shoulder and pointed Erasmus towards Volpaia. Within a 300 yards, the road started climbing steeper. And steeper. And steeper. Soon I was higher than where I was in Radda. And the road was still climbing.


(Above and Below: Outside Radda on the way to Volpaia)

 

Last Updated: June 10, 1999