Because, you know, we hadn’t already spent enough time on the BlockHaus climb after yesterday's stage (with the 6km of walking that was required to get to our spot and back), we decided to visit it again on rest day numero due - this time pushing on the pedals.
The cruel thing about our rest day rides is that each week of race chasing really piles up on you. The fatigue, the pizzas, and decreasing fitness, the pizzas, the birra, the pizzas. It all adds up - to the point where ambition starts to eclipse ability.
Case in point being our choice of rides for today. After watching the pro peloton suffer and then splinter to pieces on the BlockHaus climb yesterday, you would think that, given our somewhat sedentary lifestyle this past week, we would find something a little more sensible for a leisurely arvo roll.
But no, filled with the passione, and back-pocket grissini, how could we not pit ourselves against the same fate as the riders in this, the 100th Giro?
And so our adventure began. But not before we had re-assembled our bikes from the bike bags that had been sliding round in the back of the car since our last rest day ride - way back in Sicily.
The climb started in Roccomorice, a wedge-shaped town formed by the intersection of two dry river beds. From there it was a straightforward up-and-back trip to the summit, as we still had a 2.5 hour drive to the next stage in Foligno.
The conditions couldn't have been more perfect as we set off, and helped lull us into a false sense of confidence. Surely this climb, with its gentle lower slopes, wouldn't be so bad?
Then I thought about the expressions of pain on the faces of the riders that I had witnessed yesterday. Sure enough, at around the 4km mark, the gradient kicked up and I too felt myself making similar faces.
Luckily for us, taking a few photos for you, dear readers, gave us a totally-legitimate excuse, er, reason to regularly stop and drop the soaring heart rate, while resting our weary legs.
After perhaps a few too many such “photo opportunities”, we finally made it to the summit, which was veiled in a thick fog. We took shelter in the chalet for a coffee and crisps.
The empty crisps packets soon came in handy as we shoved them, and anything else we could find, down our jerseys for the nippy descent. See you in Foligno, Caravaners!