Finding the Mountain of Youth

Earlier this summer I had one of those moments that was both humbling and reassuring. I was in Italy and I was biking alone up the sort of Tuscan hill that is perfect if it's the 14th century and you want to put a fortified stone village on top, but demands sequoia trees for thighs if it's the 21st century and you want to climb it on a bicycle.

Now, of course, all those fortified stone villages are filled with cheese shops, wine stores, and -- in the case of San Gimignano -- torture museums...