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Madonna di Gubbio

In the morning I awoke exhausted from the insane ride into Gubbio. The morning after introduced a day benign in opportunity, so I decided to climb to the top of Gubbio’s mountain. The exposed crest at the church at the top of this mountain was hammered in a damp wind. A few visitors left, and Ubaldo’s remains was the only thing that broke the solitude. I was far in doubt. The nightmare cliff clinging ride was the most fearsome thing I have experienced. Often the proceeding day of a ride would be uneventful. I found the exhaustion manifested itself into the day. I was thriving off the road but each obstacles would become more daunting from each crazy trip. There seemed to be no chance of anything in the winter rains. Gubbio was nearly vacant while I walked through the medieval streets. I would go back to the grand piazza the next day and hope for the best.



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