The Vocation: "I had set my mind on becoming somebody. In San Nicolò Po, where I was born, I would repeat: I too will make sparks on a bicycle. And don't laugh, unless you want me to come at you with a car when I'm rich".

The Rebellion: "I kept telling myself I was sick of being a bricklayer. I had calloused shoulders, hands cracked from lime, and when it was cold and the lime froze, my period of unemployment would begin".

The Doubt: "The intimidating diagnosis from my trusted doctor: 'You can't sustain these efforts; if you continue like this, with the liver you have, you'll be dead in six months!'".

The Debut: "Milan-Sanremo. The welcome in the team was not the best, to the point that the team captain Negrini's masseur called him 'a recommended'".

They would nickname him "the Human Locomotive". He ran on wood, coal, steam. He would clatter, roar. He would spin. He would flatten hills, pave dirt roads. Motorcycle goggles, hair in the wind, jaws wide open. He would pull away from opponents' wheels. A man called bicycle.

Learco Guerra, the champion and grandfather, told by Learco Guerra, the grandson. Rummaging through memories, digging among friends, questioning the earth, exhuming letters, shuffling through photographs, diving into archives, which do not only inhabit trunks but especially hearts.

It's a beautiful book, "He Was My Grandfather" (ZeroTre Editions, Dragon's Tail series, 218 pages, 18 euros, with a preface by Pier Bergonzi, afterword by Adalberto Scemma and the epicedium by Gianni Brera). Learco junior resurrects Learco senior, in all his humanity. That of a son, husband, father and, indeed, grandfather. That of a rider, already an old debutant (professional at 27, an age when, today, many have already stopped) up to (and beyond) world champion. He does this through family anecdotes: "A few days before I was born, there was a family intention to call me Mara, and your grandfather, as soon as he heard it, burst out: 'Yes, it would have been singular. Is it not enough that I find myself rivaling with Mara (a rival, ed.) that I must find another one in the family!'" (testimony of an aunt). He also does this through literary quotes: "Lyrical is Binda, dramatic is Guerra; and the multitude is for Guerra. Eyes aflame, muscles in tumult, furious pedaling, the machine shaken by rough blows, jaws nailed, Learco Guerra passes" (Bruno Roghi).

And after the years as a rider, those as a sports director. Starting with Hugo Koblet who, in 1950, was the first foreigner to conquer the Giro d'Italia. Learco Guerra senior is breathed even in his absence. Giro dell'Appennino 1961, Federico Martin Bahamontes was racing for Learco's Vov, but that day "he had to retire and got into the car driven by my father who introduced him to me with the nickname they had given him for his feats on the climbs of the Giro and Tour: 'The Eagle of Toledo'. I was in the back seat in seventh heaven, a few inches from one of the legends of Iberian and world cycling who responded to my father's introduction with a somewhat uncertain Italian: 'Eh! Today the Eagle of Toledo is plucked!'. And we all burst out laughing" (the account of Gino Guerra, Learco's son).

The old champion was already setting. Defeating him, more than Binda's shots, more than Gaul's tantrums, was Parkinson's disease. A first operation. A second. And the "Human Locomotive" derailed.