I've just re-read 'A Dog In A Hat' by Joe Parkin (first read on the eve of the 2010 Paris-Roubaix Cyclo, fact fans) and on page 125 Joe refers to the great Fons de Wolf. Which bought riding on the early slopes of the Mortirolo all flooding back.
Obviously I had rerouted my breathing to the middle backward facing part of my body so that I could pretend to that I was climbing sotto voce but, as I elegantly slid backwards within a couple of kilometres of the climb starting, muttering about 25c tyres being less efficient than 23s, I'm really not sure who was the more thrilled to be riding in the presence of greatness........
[False modesty, I am sure. It wasn't me.]