Montello and Folina

I was pretty beat after the Asiago plateau, so despite the seductions of the almond cookie ride (which also starts with part of the Asiago climb), we voted for a flatter ride. We had settled on the Montello ride, only to have George announce in the morning that the Montello ride made no sense on a Monday because the bakery with the wonderful whole wheat croissants with honey was closed on Monday. So we reviewed all the options and settled on Montello without the bakery. This seemed to put George's nose out of joint and made him kind of cranky all day, but the ride was well worth it. Lots of tiny lanes and countryside, very little urban riding, and at one point we were following along an irrigation canal on a deserted bike path. Very scenic and quite pleasant. Although the canonical bakery was closed, we found an acceptable patisserie, followed closely by a bar where we had our coffees. We have discovered yet another variation on espresso: a macchiatone, which is a macchiato with slightly more milk, but less than a cappuccino. Just about perfect. Then back to the Laconda for lunch. By this time we were beginning to be amazed at George's consistency in leading the rides at 13.1 +/- 0.1 mph average, regardless of distance or terrain. We almost always got back to the Laconda at 1:00 give or take about 5 minutes. At lunch we discussed going into Bassano del Grappa to look for shoe glue (the sole of my 7 year old Diadoras had separated at the heel on one side), an Italian/English dictionary, and something to bring Vincent and Naomi in Geneva. George announced that there was no point going into town on a Monday, as everything was closed on Mondays. However, given that we had to disassemble our bikes the next afternoon and then leave the following morning, we had little choice.
We caught the bus into town, checked the return schedule and then walked into town. True, many things were closed, but enough were open to make it worthwhile. We thoroughly explored the old part of town within the old walls, including the famous wood and stone bridge by Palladio that is dedicated to the Alpinists who have always revered the bridge and arranged for its rebuilding after it was destroyed in WWII. One end lands in an area of town dedicated to ceramics shops, as well as a gelateria that makes a really mean affogato (gelato drowned in espresso). The best yet. A touristy shop at the foot of the bridge yielded a nice compact Italian/English dictionary. We found a hardware store and bought what I think was contact cement (seems to have done the trick on my shoe). We also bought some local cheese, a fig "salsa", and some almond cookies for Naomi and Vincent.
Jennifer wanted to go to the Giusegi clothing factory, which didn't interest me (David's always up for shopping), so we had decided to climb Monte Grappa the next morning. However, Jennifer turned out to be too tired to ride and Mark was more interested in going to Folina than in climbing the mountain. Since Mark characterized this as a "must do" ride, we changed our plans. George was in a better mood and rode his bike for the second day in a row. Once we got to the climb, he suggested David ride on ahead while he rode with me. We actually had a nice chat, and he had gone so far as telling us how to recognize the coffee stop after the descent, so we didn't have to stay on his wheel for the descent. David and Mark had stopped on the climb to take pictures, and I dropped George on the descent, so I was the first to the coffee stop. Which was closed. If nothing else, this is the ICC trip of the unexpected closures. However, there was a bar only a block away with a very welcoming owner with Fiat 500 rally trophies all over the place. After coffee, we climbed the hill to a 14th century Cistercian monastery that was really impressive. We were the only ones there, and walking into the cloister immediately made one feel quiet and contemplative. This was about the 3rd church on the spot, and the altar contained a statue of the madonna and child from a previous version several centuries older than the current church. The architecture was all pointy arches and soaring columns. George pointed out the grille where monks who were ill could hear mass without having to come down into the church. Back in the cloister, there was an interesting set of before and after pictures of the restoration of the monastery. Apparently at some point the Venetians banned the Cistercians and the monastery became housing for peasants. In 1927? the church as rededicated and restored. We finally tore ourselves away and headed back.The forecast for the day was for rain in the afternoon, and the heat and humidity were really getting oppressive. Even relatively small climbs sent my heart rate too high. We were happy to get home, but this may have been the prettiest ride of them all.
At lunch we were joined by Keith, a South African who has lived in the US for 35 years, and who has spent many long visits at the ICC. He seems to be being groomed as the heir apparent at the ICC. He's a very nice, personable chap, so this bodes well. After lunch and a short nap, there was nothing for it but to disassemble our bikes and pack them. Yet another trip the ICC was drawing to a close.