Race Through Poland no. 8
This year’s Race Through Poland was the longest edition in the event’s history so far, at nearly 1800 kilometres and 25–30 kilometres of elevation gain depending on the route. There were four mandatory checkpoints and twelve shared parcours sections. These had to be ridden in a given order, and the route between them was left to each rider to plan.
The event bans the use of all primary and secondary (one and two digit) roads except for a few short stretches. There was also a long list of prohibited three-digit roads, which made route planning really laborious.
This year I again planned to ride to the start and back to Finland, but last year’s just-over-4000 km return journey was tough enough mentally that I decided to ride through the Baltics via the shortest possible route instead.
I arrived on Monday after six days and 1730 kilometres to Nowy Targ, Poland, to wait for the race starting on Saturday.
I had ridden in Poland by road bike once before and decided at the time that it would be the last. Even though the race was almost entirely asphalt on paper, I still chose to start on a front-suspended Lauf Seigla with wide gravel tyres.
I made full use of this and plotted plenty of gravel shortcuts into the route, which, with a few exceptions, turned out to be good choices.
Kit
Before the start the bike weighed 15 kg, but I was carrying a lot of gear I wouldn’t need during the race, plus extra clothing, since a couple of weeks before the start I still didn’t know what conditions to expect. The forecast at the start line looked warm enough that I left a fair amount of stuff behind at the accommodation, and the final kit came in at around 11–12 kg.
The tyres were 45 mm Hutchinson Caracal Races, which measured about 50 mm wide on 29 mm internal rims.
The front light was a Supernova M99 dynamo light with a Lumonite Compass R as backup. At the back were two Fenix BC05R lights.
My bags consisted of a Restrap Race saddle bag paired with a 7L dry bag for items that were rarely needed while riding, such as extra clothing. On the top tube, I had a Tailfin 1.1L top tube bag containing a power bank and the tools I was most likely to need, such as tubeless plugs and a multi-tool. I also used a Cyclite 2.8L frame bag for the first time, carrying hygiene items, an electric pump, and other frequently needed stuff.
I wore a Salomon Sense Pro 10 running vest with a 2-litre hydration bladder.
For sleeping I had a Cumulus Ultralight bivy bag and a Rapha lightweight down jacket.
Part one
The race started with a police escort on Saturday 23 May at 05:00 local time. There was a longer mandatory gravel stretch on a narrow trail at the beginning, and I didn’t want to push my way to the front before the start, so I immediately got stuck behind slower riders.
The organiser had warned in advance about a very steep and rough gravel section near the start. I think there ended up being three steep climbs, and they were in places so steep and rocky that it was hard to find a line through all the riders pushing their bikes.
Descending from the mountain I was doing close to 80 km/h when someone came past me on a very narrow mountain road from the left, and my concentration slipped just enough that I hit some kind of bump and it nearly went, shall we say, badly.
It’s really hard to ride your own pace at the start when there are so many other riders around going slightly slower than you and you constantly end up pushing a bit too hard to get past. My legs were under enough strain that I wondered more than once how the hell I was ever going to make it to the finish. The group gradually split up around the 85 km mark and I was finally able to ride at my own pace.
I’d punctured on the way to Poland and the tubeless plug seemed to fix it, so I couldn’t be bothered to patch the tyre from the inside while waiting for the race to start. Just past 100 km the plug failed and the tyre wouldn’t hold air. I put in a new one, but for some reason the plugs kept wearing out immediately, and over the next 100 km I put four plugs in the tyre and used up nearly all the tubeless sealant I was carrying.
Along the way I passed a sign pointing back to the start, Nowy Targ, and I seriously considered turning there. Fortunately a slightly thicker plug seemed to hold and there were no more tyre issues for the rest of the race.
I had planned my first resupply stop at the 370 km mark and intended to carry enough food and water to get me there. However, the temperature climbed to nearly 30°C during the day, and combined with the time lost dealing with the tyre, I was already running low on water after just 150 km. I hadn’t researched any services along this section, but fortunately I had no trouble finding places to restock when needed.
I took my first proper break at 370 km, then set off into the night towards CP1 at 486 km. That section had the three steepest climbs of the whole trip in a row. Gradients touched 25–30% at points and a few times I nearly had to walk, but in the dark it’s really hard to gauge how steep a hill actually is. Beyond a certain point you can’t stop pedalling without risking a fall, so you just have to muscle your way up. A slight despair began to set in. My legs were already pretty cooked from earlier in the day and I had no idea how steep the upcoming climbs would be.
It happened to be a public holiday in Poland and there were a lot of people out celebrating, which was a surprisingly good boost while riding at night. I also came across at least three men passed out in the middle of the road, whom I nudged awake. The first time I got a real fright when I suddenly saw a head at the edge of my beam. I stopped and wasn’t sure whether he was alive, but after poking him for a moment, he thankfully woke up and I was able to continue.
I reached the first checkpoint in the early hours of the morning, arriving third. Someone had stopped to rest there, so at that point I moved up to second in the race.
I forced down nearly a kilo of chocolate and sweets and left as the sun rose. My shortcut dropped over 400 metres in six kilometres, partly on very rocky trail.
The evening before the start the Garmin had refused to charge properly. Today it had been showing 100% battery the whole time, so I’d been randomly trying to charge it, but I had no idea whether it was actually charging.
Around 535 km into the race, I passed 10,000 metres of climbing. Shortly afterwards the route mercifully eased and ahead was a 200 km stretch with just over 2000 m of climbing, with most of it along the freshly built cycle path beside the Váh river between Žilina and Trenčín in Slovakia. The path was busy enough to feel crowded.
The temperature climbed again to well above 30°C during the day. I was really suffering in the heat and probably drank 15 litres through the day. I took my second break at 730 km and planned the coming second night. The rough plan was to collect a second stamp, descend from the mountain, restock at an all-night petrol station and go stop at the first shelter with a roof for a couple of hours of sleep.
The Garmin had been crashing regularly, so I thought I’d play it safe, save the ride and restart the device. The device hung on saving for probably five minutes and then crashed mid-save. Brilliant. I got the device back on but the first 733 km had vanished into the void and I couldn’t recover it even directly from the device. That was my last race with Garmin. I already fight with terrible IT enough at work and I don’t want to do the same in my spare time.
I swapped places all day with Tim de Witte. He pushed a past me on the climbs and I sailed past him on the descents. Tim overtook me again on the way to CP2 but then vanished almost immediately into the bushes somewhere for a sleep.
The forest ahead started rustling and in the distance I saw a wild boar crossing the road with her piglets. I gladly waited for them to disappear into the bushes before continuing 😀
About halfway along the road to the second checkpoint, a storm appeared from nowhere. I was descending hard when I hit an open field and the crosswind nearly carried me away me with it. It’s a pretty horrible feeling when you need to brake for a corner but the wind is so strong you don’t dare take your hands off the aerobars. The wind then turned into rain. It lasted just long enough for me to stop and put on my rain jacket, but during that time several centimeters of rain must have fallen.
The roads were flooded with branches, water and rocks washed down with it. I had an 8 km shortcut to the second checkpoint along a mountain bike trail following the Czech–Slovak border. I had to walk the bike uphill for the first time, the slope being in places too steep and muddy after the rain. The Garmin was showing 31% at one point.
I arrived soaking wet to collect my stamp and found out I was first. Half joking, I asked whether one could sleep here. Apparently the sofa was available and a room cost only €25. Well, damn. This wasn’t supposed to happen! I wasn’t supposed to stop yet, but I decided to stay and sleep at the checkpoint, even though I wasn’t really that tired yet.
I got the key to my room and went straight to the shower. After showering I realised the towel was in my room, everyone else was downstairs and I didn’t want to wake the other guests by shouting down. Tired, I debated for probably ten minutes whether to put on my dirty clothes and get the bibs wet again, or just walk to the room naked. In the end I wrapped myself as best I could in my rain jacket and shuffled to the room.
I set an alarm for three hours, but it took me ages to fall asleep. By that point, I was 41 hours, 833 km and about 14 km of climbing into the race.
Part two
I woke a few hours later to the alarm at 02:15. I stood up and couldn’t decide whether to vomit or pass out, let alone in what order. After sitting for a moment the nausea settled. Quick bike check and back on the road.
Outside it was still dark and the roads were wet. From the checkpoint we descended nearly 800 metres, most of which I rode down with the brakes fully on. My brakes started making a strange noise, as if the pads were gone and the pad springs were rubbing against the rotors. The next service stop was just over 20 km away and the route was mostly downhill there, so I couldn’t be bothered to investigate further.
I stopped at a 24/7 petrol station to look into it, but the brakes didn’t feel like they were dragging when I spun the wheels, so in the end I did nothing about it. I ate a couple of large sandwiches and probably a kilo of chocolate, biscuits and sweets, and a moment later it all nearly came back up the same way. After sitting for a while I managed to keep it down.
The route continued along the Váh river in the same direction I’d come from yesterday. This time I chose a few kilometres longer and a bit worse route on the other side of the river to avoid riding the same road in both directions (for new Wandrer.earth kilometres 😌). At some point I started wondering why I was putting out 190–200 W on flat roads and the bike barely seemed to be moving. The front brake was dragging badly, and I tried to loosen the front axle but it was seized so hard there was no hope of getting it open with my multi-tool. The next stretch was flat enough that I yanked the pads out with pliers and rode without a front brake until I found something to open it with.
I stopped at the first open petrol station, where someone lent me a longer hex key and I got the axle open. I cleaned the brake caliper and pistons and sanded the pads clean, after which everything seemed to be working normally again.
The flat roads ended after Žilina, from where I slowly started climbing through a few smaller hills towards the third checkpoint. The checkpoint sits at 1300 m altitude in the Žiarska valley. The only road in is one “paved” about 50 years ago. The gradient was fairly gentle though, so it wasn’t too bad going up.
I collected my stamp and the people there said Tim had come through at some point, so I was second again. Filled the bottles and carried on.
On the descent there were too many hikers around that I didn’t dare go too fast. I had planned a “shortcut” that followed the edge of a national park, and there were a few moments when I stopped and thought, this is stupid.
I’d studied the section in detail beforehand, and the map data showed only a five-kilometre stretch inside the national park as gravel, with the rest supposedly paved. In reality, almost the entire 20 km section turned out to be very slow gravel, with a couple of short hike-a-bike sections and river crossings.
The shortcut saved about six kilometres, the average speed over it was 21 km/h, despite losing nearly 700 metres of elevation along the way. Easy to say in hindsight, it didn’t make much sense at all 😀
I’d taken a break before climbing to the third checkpoint, so I decided to skip the planned service stop as I still had plenty of water and food. I calculated I had seven hours to cover 120 km to the next service stop, a petrol station closing at 23:00. Shouldn’t even be tight.
The organiser had permitted a four-kilometre stretch along Highway 59 in Slovakia, which made it possible to use the Donovalská mountain bike trail, built on an old railway bed, to reach the start of the next parcours section.
The trail was mostly easy going, but at one point a cycle path bridge had collapsed and the route was diverted over a small hill to the other side. I have no idea how much climbing that involved, but the descent on the far side went straight through a rocky muddy field.
On the way down, I met an older couple pushing heavily loaded e-bikes uphill. They looked somewhat desperate and gestured to ask whether the route really went this way. We exchanged a few words and smiles, and I continued on my way.
In Donovaly I realised I’d never make it to the next service stop before 23:00 and started fairly desperately looking for alternatives. All the shops were closed and I had food until night. I could see a few restaurants along the route but couldn’t find opening times for any of them with a quick Google.
The next 24/7 shop I had planned was still over 150 km away, and it was a self-service store that required the Môj Obchod phone app, which of course only works in Slovak. I’d installed the app before leaving and figured out how it worked with Google Translate, but I didn’t know if it would actually work when needed. The next option after that didn’t open until morning, potentially meaning a stretch of over 12 hours without food.
Somewhere along the parcours section I found a restaurant that was full of people. I walked in with a smile and asked to buy every biscuit and chocolate bar they had.
We didn’t really share a common language, but I eventually managed to buy about a kilo of biscuits and chocolate. Turns out they had more than I had bargained for, and I had to draw the line when boxes of chocolates started appearing on the table 😀
I continued, and somewhere in the dark on a descent the front brake seized again. I got it working enough that the wheel was spinning tolerably, but the caliper would need to be re-centred.
On the next descent it seized for good and the wheel was barely turning at all. The lower caliper bolt was so seized I couldn’t get it open in the dark. I had a 10 km stretch that was mostly uphill, so I pressed the pistons as far back as I could and got the wheel spinning just enough to keep moving. I saw signs for several hotels and eventually found one that was still open, so I decided to stop for a couple of hours of sleep and try again with fresher eyes.
The cheapest room was €109, but the options were take it or leave it. I took it, though it stung a bit 🥲
I woke after just under two hours of sleep. Still no hope of getting the bolt open. The upper bolt came out fine, but the lower was so seized I stripped the only suitable Torx bit on my multi-tool. The next 50 km had the longest and fairly technical gravel sections of the whole race ahead, so I didn’t dare remove the pads and ride in the dark on the rear brake alone.
I searched online and found a bike shop at the bottom of the hill opening at nine in the morning. I set the alarm for seven and went back to sleep.
At this point, I was 63 hours, 1233 km and 19 km of climbing into the race.
Part three
I cleared out the hotel breakfast buffet and headed off to wait outside the bike shop. I ate so much that, fortunately, the route to the shop was all downhill 😀
The shop fixed the problem quickly. I’m not entirely sure what they did, but whatever it was, it seemed to solve the issue. Thanks to Profibikers!
I set off well fed and rested, trying to ride to the finish as fast as possible. At some point as I reached a larger road, media cars started circling like flies. I wasn’t sure whether that was a good or bad sign. I keep my phone in airplane mode 99% of the time to save battery and never track where other riders are. So I had no idea how many people had passed me during my nine-hour stop.
My route followed the Hnilecká cycle path, saving a few kilometres and nearly 200 m of climbing compared to the larger road 533 on the other side of the river. Looking at it beforehand it seemed very easy, but in reality it was in places so slow that this was the second shortcut that didn’t save a single second.
When planning the route I’d been worried about my route to the fourth checkpoint (nearly 900 m of climbing in under 10 km) because on the map it looked like there could be a couple of kilometre long hike-a-bike section. The route turned out to be pretty easy to ride, though.
At the checkpoint I found out that somehow I was still third, but I didn’t know how far ahead the others were. Nothing to do but pick up the pace.
On the approach to CP4 came the first moment of genuine frustration. Every climb seemed to go up on perfectly surfaced tarmac. At the top, the route would turn onto some horrific gravel road, descend for a few kilometres, and then join some dead-straight paved forest road.
The descents were so steep that as soon as you released the brakes, you’d be doing over 60 km/h within seconds. At the same time, the roads were rough enough, and there could be anything in the way, from fallen branches to large rocks, so it was really frustrating to have to descend at a crawling speed as well.
At the top of one hill the Garmin told me to turn left, and I thought: not again. This time the descent was on the same perfectly conditioned road. The exception proves the rule 😀
I’d wanted to ride the end of that parcours section and the old railway bed route after it in daylight because it looked great on the map. I arrived just as the sun set, so I got the view as far as my front light reached. There was a nice old, lit-up railway tunnel in there though!
A little later a second reason to speed things up appeared: an urgent need to take a shit. The next petrol station was still 100 km away and would close at 23:00. I made it there five minutes before closing, but I had to skip it because I knew I wouldn’t make it in time.
In my cycling career of over 250,000 km I’ve never once had to go in the woods, and I had no intention of starting now. I’d marked a 24/7 petrol station a few kilometres off route about 60 km ahead and decided to hold out until then.
I chose the westerly, shorter but considerably hillier route to the start of the final parcours section, mainly because of the railway section mentioned earlier. While climbing one of the hills, I nearly shit my pants a bit more literally as well, when the forest suddenly started rustling loudly beside me and I could hear footsteps right next to me on the road. I shouted into the darkness, and thankfully the sound moved away.
After eight hours of holding on I finally reached the petrol station. I’d tried to ride the whole race without coffee, but I bought the trip’s first (iced) coffee just in case I’d get tired later on.
The final 104 km parcours section was mostly just counting down the kilometres to the finish. I had a great idea 20 km from the finish and decided to push the last stretch as hard as my legs would go, because why not? Looking at the GPS trace afterwards it wasn’t a particularly impressive effort, but in the moment it felt like the final sprint on the Tour de France 😀
At some point I had passed Jędrzej, who had been ahead of me, and I crossed the line second on 27 May at 07:19. Final time was 98 hours and 19 minutes, route length 1684 km and just under 27 km of climbing.
I finished 2 hours and 59 minutes behind the winner, Tim. On the other hand, in the final section I clawed back a 3 hour 12 minute gap on Jędrzej, who finished third. Tim’s route was 1697 km and Jędrzej’s 1691 km. Hats off to them for doing a nearly identical route on narrow road bike tyres 😀
Closing thoughts
Aside from the front brake problems the race went really well and things played out almost exactly as I’d planned. The temperature came as a big surprise and only by the third day did my body start adjusting to it.
The early rear tyre issues were also a bit of a dumb mistake and could have been avoided by properly patching the tyre before the race, but I’ve never had problems with the durability of tubeless plugs on wide tyres before, until now they’ve always been “permanent” fixes.
Looking at the other riders, I had no envy whatsoever for those on narrow road tyres. I was a bit lucky that there was so much gravel and rough road on the route, because I could ride those sections noticeably faster than the other leading group.
I found a whole range of entirely new problems that have never come up before. Towards the end of the third day my lower back started going numb and radiating into my glutes and toes. As I write this it’s still a little numb.
Last year’s race ended in disqualification when I made a small detour into a forbidden national park. Because of that I stressed quite a bit beforehand about whether I’d messed something up again, since my route was on paper nearly 150 km shorter than the distance stated in the race briefing.
I had originally planned to ride home from Poland, but at the end of the first day my knee started hurting. Then I noticed the sole of my left cycling shoe had cracked and was flexing with every pedal stroke.
I managed to improve it a bit with tape but didn’t want to push my luck further. I took the train to Warsaw and caught a bus from there to Tallinn.