We can’t exactly call ourselves novices in the world of biking. Lorenzo has been a BMX professional, and between the two of us, we’ve spent our entire lives involved in road races, downhill, enduro, and various other disciplines that we’ve pursued passionately for many years.

However, the biking world is so vast that there’s always something in which we remain beginners. This was the case for us at the Tuscany Trail, the first unsupported gravel trail we took on at the end of last May.

We already have several experiences of bike travel, but we found ourselves facing an off-road test over multiple days, in total autonomy, for the first time. We started with equipment that turned out to be inadequate for a particularly harsh and variable spring.

Our preparation allowed us to complete the challenge, but it required considerable effort and posed significant difficulties. We felt as though we were embarking on a new experience, as they say, “outside our comfort zone.”

Even though we’re not fans of this nowadays overused phrase, it’s true that the beauty of biking lies in its ability to continuously challenge us. Everything is relative, and what may seem like a walk in the park for some can already be a challenge for others. It takes little to feel like a complete novice when it comes to biking.

For instance, just deciding to change your mobility habits and dusting off that bike we all have at the back of the garage can bring about a beneficial change in your daily life. The beauty of this mindset is precisely that you get to live an experience as beginners, seeing everything with fresh eyes.

At the Tuscany Trail, we saw people much less prepared than we were, with unlikely equipment and paces that made us doubt whether they fully grasped what they were about to face.

As Lorenzo says: “What’s the fun in tackling something you’re perfectly prepared for?” With this, we don’t mean to encourage you to embark on endeavors beyond your capabilities, but with a bit of common sense, a bike becomes a wonderful tool to escape the familiar, protected, and predictable daily routine, rediscovering a sense of adventure and, why not, uncertainty that opens us to new experiences.

What we take away from this experience made up of beautiful landscapes, white roads, killer climbs, endless descents, and fatigue, is this lesson: to do something, you don’t need to be perfect. To start something, you don’t need to know everything.

How many people we meet say, “I’d like to ride a bike, but…”

But I’m not prepared.

I don’t have the right equipment.

I don’t know the roads.

I don’t feel safe.

It doesn’t matter. Just start. It takes little to discover how much a bike can give you—how much well-being, time, health, and joy.

We can’t tell you this; you have to experience it. It doesn’t matter if you are beginners. We all are.

And Clorofilla was born precisely for this. It was created to be there when you don’t know how to proceed, to lend a hand with what you haven’t anticipated because you’re beginners, to reassure you that, somehow, we will get you back home.