Recipe Wilton Giant Cupcake Pan

e il temporale mi prende al mattino, dopo aver fatto disastri tutta la notte, al mattino mi lascia una pausa giusta giusta per fare colazione, e poi riprende duro. preparo everything as if it might not rain, to be ready, then I lie down to read and wait. birth hour and a half later than what I hoped. nothing wrong, if I arrive in time to see the caves.
step uan forgotten frontier, the zone is now no man's land: one hundred feet of asphalt between the extremely precise holes of Italy and Slovenia. The karst landscape keeps its promises: shrubs, white limestone. sinkholes. sinkholes are beautiful, but bikes are an illusion of lowering a betrayal of the climb. the storm goes away from the Bora, and even down to 42 I have to, otherwise I will stop. I realize now that my legs are not there, but I expected and I arranged. I think of when, a hundred years ago, my grandmother she was a child here. was born and raised in this landscape. small green valleys, the wealth that is now, imagine a time as dignified poverty. I wonder how it was, in this border area, the interregnum of the Tito regime. Finally, after climbing for six hundred and fifty meters salirne two hundred, go down the Vipava Valley. seems immense, green valleys and cut as au moraine close to the north by a huge white shoes football. an electronic billboard warns: beware, wind 58 km / h. I turned right, and I see way up there. Obviously the wind is coming from there. just as obviously, if it were to fall, the wind is coming from there.
seeking a place to eat before climb, and I understand how it works: three steaks, a mountain of chips, a spectacular sauce of pepper, paprika and nonsocosaltro salad coke and water to ten euro. I know it's not dimagrirò riding this time.
the climb is Zen as it should be. I put the brain in the pedals for an hour and leave it there. seven kilometers through eight per cent against the wind, an hour's climb. the heart is fixed to 165. at the top, just as paves the wind, I invest like a wall, the last one hundred meters are the most tiring.
then, all a sweet and down to Postojna, finally meeting a few small rider.
arrival at the hostel too late, the caves are now closed. After dinner I'll have two accounts, maybe try a passarci domattina presto, a postumia non c'è assolutamente nient'altro da vedere.

trieste-postumia
69,77 km
4h 28"
15,59 km/h medi
1142 m dislivello
152 bpm medi