Schlagwort: Bikepacking

My participation in the Trans Balkan Race is coming up on its anniversary. Time to finally publish my report also on the blog. The experiences of each race day are paired with a few beautiful photos. Huge thanks to @transbalkanrace for letting me use them (photographers: @nils_laengner, @exploro.cc, @michelapedranti, @beatriceberla, @andreasecuro).

Day 1

Let’s start with Day 1: On the way from the hotel to the start in Sežana (Slovenia), it becomes clear that the first day is going to be very wet. It’s pouring down, and I quickly put on my full rain gear — rain jacket, long rain pants, and overshoes — at the start. After the starting gun, it’s a wild ride on gravel roads into the hinterland. For the first few meters, I’m still up front, but then a few riders pick up the pace to a level more suited for a short gravel race or MTB marathon, and I let the hotheads go. Experience shows that you either meet most of the fast starters later or they drop out within the first two days. At the beginning, I constantly experience navigation problems and almost miss every turn. I’m already doubting my navigation device when I finally realize that raindrops on the touchscreen have adjusted the map display resolution, so I’m navigating at a much too detailed zoom level, where turns only appear right at the moment of the turn. Once that’s corrected, navigation fortunately works fine. 

The second challenge is the Tailfin Aeropack bag. Relatively soon, we hit technical sections or descents with very rough surfaces in the corners. I hadn’t had time to ride with the packed setup off-road before the race, and now it’s coming back to bite me. The center of gravity is significantly further back/up because of the bag, and this changes the bike’s handling drastically. At first, I feel like I have no control over the bike and curse my decision to use the Tailfin. Fortunately, after a few hours, I get completely used to it and feel perfectly comfortable on my bike again. I can already say that after the adjustment period, the Tailfin bags were the perfect choice for the entire race. They were really 100% waterproof and kept all my gear easily accessible. And they played very well with my sull-suspension setup.

In the first few hours, we cross from Slovenia into Croatia, and the route mainly goes through forested areas. This makes it a bit monotonous in the constant rain, though technical trail sections occasionally add some excitement. On top of the first longer climb I’m back in top 10 and start to feel comfortable with my performance although my body seems to be dealing with something. My heart rate is about 15-20 beats higher per minute than usual for the given power output. This worries me a bit and continues into the second day, but it normalizes as the event progresses and never really becomes a problem. 

In the afternoon, after 123 km, I plan to restock supplies at the first mountain hut, but find out that the Croatian mountain hut listed as a supply point in the race manual only has drinks. No muesli or chocolate bars to be found. Luckily, I have plenty of gels with me, so it’s not a problem for now. Shortly after, I find myself in the small town of Lič with two other top-5 riders at a bakery.

Here, you can see that ultra cycling is mostly a food competition 😉 We commiserate with each other about our suffering due to the constant rain, thunderstorms, and hailstorms, sharing gallows humor as we take in calories.

In the evening, the weather improves a bit, and I can enjoy the view of the Croatian coastline in the beautiful sunset before night falls. The ride through the night is only interrupted by another attempt to get supplies at the mountain hut Dom Zavižan (at kilometer 241). Again, there’s only water and some coke. The organizing team members present explain the reason: the huts are not legally allowed to sell food in Croatia. Since there have been hefty fines in the past, they strictly adhere to this rule. With this new insight, I continue to ride through the adverse weather conditions of the first night (by now I’ve moved up to 3rd place). Given that camping out in these conditions is anything but appealing, the decision to ride through the first night is an easy one.

Day 2

After riding through the night, I arrive in the town of Gospić (at kilometer 326) just before 6 AM. In the meantime, the weather has improved significantly, and the rising sun warms my tired limbs. All the shops directly on the route are still closed, but I urgently need supplies. So, I decide to take a detour to a 24-hour gas station, about 2 km off the track.

While I’m freshening up (new chamois and sunscreen), @nils_laengner shows up with the Media Car and takes some pictures. It’s nice to see familiar faces after the long night and have some small talk. Additionally, the gas station restroom has the advantage of allowing me to remove the dirt before applying a new layer of sunscreen. Armed with freshly filled bottles (fruit juices and cola) and plenty of chocolate bars and pastries, I head back on the road. The weather is turning out beautifully and leads us through wonderfully blooming flower meadows. Only the muddy trails and deep puddles, which sometimes span the entire width of the road, remind us of the heavy rainfalls from the past 24 hours.

I manage to move further ahead and finally reach the first checkpoint in Mazin at kilometer 432 in the early afternoon. The leader, Manuel Truccolo, is also still at the checkpoint when I arrive, but he has already resupplied and is on his way again as I wash the mud off my bike with a garden hose and get served a portion of Pasta Napoli. I use the checkpoint’s Wi-Fi and my meal to book a hotel room in the next major city (Knin). This gives me a fixed goal for the rest of the day. As I get ready to continue, the third-placed Zbigniew Mossoczy arrives.

After the checkpoint, it’s back onto a jeep track with an extremely rocky surface after a short asphalt ride. I push hard but feel like I’m moving at a snail’s pace and get completely frustrated. I keep expecting Zbigniew to overtake me from behind at any moment. The midday heat during the climb adds to my demoralization.

But then, completely unexpectedly, I don’t see Zbigniew coming up from behind; instead, I catch up with Manuel ahead of me… and suddenly, I’m wide awake and fully in race mode. The climb gets increasingly challenging and eventually unrideable.

Newly motivated by taking the lead, I give it my all and soon create a significant gap from Manuel. The following descents and counter-climbs are really tough, with very rocky terrain alternating with deep muddy puddles and dirt paths. But the prospect of getting some sleep in Knin and gaining a bit more lead on my pursuers keeps me going. Just before 8 PM, I finally reach Knin (at kilometer 520), quickly check into the booked hotel right by the route, and get some extra calories from a bakery a few meters from the hotel. After a quick shower and some zinc ointment for the contact points with the saddle, I go to bed. Since I didn’t sleep at all the previous night, I generously set the alarm for 3 hours of sleep 😉 I assume that I won’t be in the lead anymore when I wake up, but I hope the recovery will pay off as the race progresses.

Day 3

The alarm rings, and just before 1 AM, I’m back on the bike, riding out of Knin. I’m somewhat surprised that, despite the early sleep break, I haven’t lost many places. Other riders have also stopped in Knin to spend the night. After Knin, the terrain is initially slightly uphill or undulating for a few kilometers out of town before a long, grueling climb begins. Even before the real mountain starts, I manage to overtake Mateusz Wiszniewski (sleeping by the roadside) and Manuel Truccolo (just getting up by the roadside) and find myself in second place behind Zbigniew Mossoczy. The upcoming mountain is no fun at night. The very rough surface with loose stones and occasional short pushing sections require full concentration in the dark. Again and again, in addition to the hub dynamo-powered lamp on my handlebars, I have to activate my helmet lamp to find a good track. At dawn, I reach the summit and can now also see the many warning signs along the way, which warn of life-threatening minefields off the paths. A sobering reminder of the Yugoslav Wars.

The descent goes well at first, but around 7 AM, I struggle so much with fatigue that I lie down on a rock slab by the roadside for a few minutes of power nap. Afterward, I feel really good and resume the chase after Zbigniew. The 700-meter climb to the border between Croatia and Bosnia-Herzegovina is paved, so I take the opportunity to call my wife at home, and the ascent passes quickly. That I am also maintaining a decent pace allows me to overtake Zbigniew shortly after the border crossing but before the summit. The chocolate the border guards give me as a welcome gift and moving back into first place puts me in high spirits, and I enjoy the long descent and the following flat section to Livno (at kilometer 646).

Upon arriving in Livno, I stop right at the entrance to a bakery, eat two pastries, replenish my food supply with more pastries, and, in addition to my filled bike bottles, pack an extra bottle of fruit juice, as the weather is great and the sun is blazing. While I am provisioning, Zbigniew also appears, makes a Formula 1-style pit stop, and rides off before me. However, I can overtake him on the next climb, as he seems to be having trouble with his feet and finds it difficult to pedal with higher intensity.

In the now following remote section in the mountains, I have a truly frightening encounter with a pack of shepherd dogs for the first time in the race. As I approach on the bike, I am quickly surrounded by at least eight impressively large dogs, barking and growling aggressively. Riding away on the bike is not an option, as the dogs are far too fast, and the terrain is relatively flat. I remember the recommended behavior (dismount and push the bike slowly). Although it’s a great effort, I get off the bike, and behold, I am still closely followed, but the aggression decreases, and I am no longer attacked. However, any attempt to get back on the bike and roll slowly changes the situation abruptly, so I push the bike a considerable distance until I apparently leave the herd’s territory, and the dogs lose interest in me.

The next opportunity for provisions is in Šuica (at kilometer 683). I use the bar directly on the route to replenish my drink supply with Coke. Unfortunately, there is nothing to eat, but since I still have some supplies, I ride on directly. All afternoon, I continue through remote mountain areas with beautiful views, glad that the weather remains consistently nice apart from a few isolated raindrops. The media car with @nils_laengner keeps popping by as a welcome distraction, taking photos. Everything is going well, and when I turn onto a paved road again shortly before the large Blidinjsko jezero mountain lake, I have managed to gain about 20 kilometers ahead of the second-placed Zbigniew. 

However, my drink supplies are completely exhausted, and I have been rationing my drinking for some time. So, a large hotel with a restaurant on the ground floor appearing by the roadside comes in handy. I stop and go straight to the bar in the restaurant to order a few bottles of Coke and a mineral water. The staff looks at me somewhat puzzled since I don’t fit into the upscale ambiance of the place in my filthy clothes, but they still start to serve me quickly. The staff’s astonishment grows when the media team enters the restaurant behind me and starts taking pictures wordlessly. I would love to know what goes through the minds of those uninvolved in the race at such moments 😉

Freshly supplied, I continue and use the asphalt section to the lake to book a hotel with a 24-hour reception in the next larger city along the route (Mostar at kilometer 798) via booking.com. Just after completing the booking, disaster strikes, and a terrible downpour starts. At first, I only put on my rain jacket, but a few kilometers later, I get so cold in the rain that I also put on my long rain pants, neckerchief, and hat. The further kilometers to Mostar are then marked by bad weather, and I am glad when I reach the hotel late in the evening. The receptionist is just great. When I explain my situation to him, he immediately understands that I won’t be having breakfast and allows me to grab some muesli/milk, a few fruit juices, and yogurt to take to my room.

And soon after, I am lying in bed with a full stomach and freshly showered. I set the alarm so that I have a full sleep cycle (1.5 hours) and fall asleep immediately.

Day 4

I wake up a minute before the alarm goes off, and although it’s only around 1 AM, I take the opportunity to freshen up and apply sunscreen and chamois cream for the coming day. Then I throw on my now dirt-encrusted cycling clothes and hop on the bike in high spirits. The good mood is partly because the tracker shows me still in the lead despite my break. But also because the first few kilometers are in the valley, and even the upcoming climb starts on smooth asphalt. The climb is very steep, but since I’m more of a climber type, I see this as an advantage despite the effort. So, I cheerfully climb meter by meter back into the mountains.

Unfortunately, my good mood takes a hit when it starts raining heavily again just before dawn. Gradually, I put on all my layers of clothing, but still can’t prevent getting colder. Sometime in the early morning, a heavy fatigue sets in. Unfortunately, I’m somewhere in the middle of nowhere and can’t find a suitable spot to lie down in the dry. To clear my head, I eventually lie down under a tree by the roadside in the wet grass. I can’t sleep well, but it helps my brain reset. After about 20 minutes, I’m shivering all over and reluctantly get back on the bike. Eventually, I come through a small village (probably Nevesinje), where there are no food options on the route, but at least a canopy. So, I take the opportunity to put on my last dry, warm clothing item – my down jacket – under my rain jacket. This makes me a bit warmer, and I continue riding in the persistent rain until I arrive in Ulog (at kilometer 884) at around 9 AM in the morning. Ulog is a small village, but it’s listed in the race manual as a supply point, and there’s actually a small bar right on the route that also offers warm food.

I enter the bar and am greeted sympathetically but warmly by the owner and four other guests, despite my completely filthy and soaking wet outfit. I quickly order a hot tea and ask if I can also get something warm to eat. One of the guests translates my English into the local language, and after a short preparation time, I am served a portion of scrambled eggs with sausages and bread.

Normally, I wouldn’t take a break for a meal during the race, but in this case, I’m just glad to be in the dry and warm up a bit while eating. Whenever I fill my mouth with the cutlery and chew, I warm my hands on the hot tea cup. After eating, it’s hard to get going again. But I have to continue, and the other guests assure me that the weather will improve as the day progresses.

And they’re right. It feels like an eternity, but eventually, the sun comes out, and it stops raining. Before that happens, I take another 20-minute power nap by the roadside. The bad weather and cold sap my energy immensely. After a very long climb, a thrilling descent follows, where I meet the media crew again, who want to take photos of the leading riders. By now, the front group has rearranged itself, and closely behind me, Zbigniew and my French friend @stevenlehyaric are giving chase.

I still have some food supplies, but my water bottles are completely empty by the time I reach the bottom of the valley. Eventually, I spot a house that looks like a restaurant on the lower level. There’s even some music playing on the terrace speakers, but the doors are locked, and no one responds to my knocking and shouting. While circling the house looking for signs of life, I find a water tap at the back. Although I let the water run for a while, it doesn’t get cool. A bad sign, as it’s likely not tap water but possibly rainwater, meant for gardening. However, since I urgently need a refill, I fill my bottles anyway, trusting my Micropur Forte tablets to at least eliminate the worst bacterial contamination. So, 30 minutes later (the tablet’s working time), I have the opportunity to drink again.

And so I continue with fresh supplies. The weather is strange: the sun is shining, but I keep running into rain showers. I’m glad when the route takes a long climb into the forest, where the canopy shields me a bit from the rain. As I ride on, my heart almost stops when I see two hairy backsides about 10-15 meters ahead on the path. The loud stream next to the path must have drowned out my riding noise, so the otherwise very shy bears didn’t hear me coming. I stop immediately, but the bears now notice me and turn around. It’s a large mother with her cub. The mother immediately stands up, showing her impressive size. I don’t know what to do and stand frozen. Before I can do anything right or wrong, the bear luckily decides to retreat and disappears into the forest with her cub. I stand still for a while, fearing the bears might be waiting near the path for their freshly discovered meal 😉

After recovering from the shock, I continue my way. This encounter will definitely be one of the lasting memories of the race, best described as a mix of surprised horror and majestic joy.

It’s early evening at this point, and there are still about 50 kilometers to the checkpoint. I want to ride these entirely to take a proper sleep break at the checkpoint. However, the 50 kilometers are challenging, and after nightfall, there are extended mud sections where I frequently have to dismount. So, it takes much longer than expected, and during a descent, I get so tired that I take another 20-minute power nap, lying in my bivy sack. Surprisingly, I can easily forget my recent encounter with the wild forest inhabitants and fall asleep immediately. It’s very cold again, and the humidity is extremely high, so my rain jacket is covered with water droplets despite no rain. Just before the checkpoint, there’s finally an asphalt section, so the remaining kilometers roll smoothly over one last hill. It’s now already after midnight, but the checkpoint crew and the media car await me at the second and last checkpoint of the race (at kilometer 1037) in Brod.

It’s nice to have some small talk with familiar faces, and the freshly prepared pasta with tomato sauce revives my spirits. The checkpoints at the @transbalkanrace are spartan, as you can only get drinks here for the rest of the race (e.g., no chocolate bars or other food to take with you). But you’re always greeted with a portion of pasta and much human friendliness, and if needed, you can also wash your bike.

I take the opportunity to shower quickly and lie down for 1.5 hours of sleep on the only mattress available for riders. I’m curious how this works later in the race when multiple riders occupy the checkpoint at the same time. To avoid wearing my dirty cycling clothes to sleep, I wrap myself in a piece of curtain fabric provided and fall asleep immediately after setting the phone alarm. When the alarm goes off, I quickly get dressed to hit the road again. The crew has kindly placed my wet cycling shoes near an outdoor fireplace, so they are not completely dry but at least warm when I slip into them.

Just before getting back on the bike, @stevenlehyaric arrives at the checkpoint, and we exchange a few lighthearted remarks before he lies down and I head off again.

Day 5

So, what happens after I leave Checkpoint 2, wrapped in fresh sun and butt cream, just before dawn?

I ride the last few meters down into the valley on the asphalt road to Brod. Luckily, there is a 24-hour gas station with a wide selection, so I can stock up on supplies with plenty of chocolate bars (Snickers, Mars, Kinder Bueno) and Haribo gummy bears (cola bottles). I feel great again, and the undulating section on the highway to the Montenegrin border passes quickly. On both sides of the border, there is a wide highway. Only for the bridge over the river, between the border stations in the demilitarized zone, does neither Bosnia nor Montenegro seem to take responsibility. It is in an adventurous condition, and the roadway (if I remember correctly) is only covered with wooden planks despite the car traffic. After properly checking out of Bosnia and checking into Montenegro, the route climbs steeply into Durmitor National Park. The weather is excellent, the sweat is pouring down, and I am pleased with the very good road conditions, especially since my butt is now making itself unpleasantly felt.

The bad weather of the past few days, with lots of dirt and rain, has made the long days in the saddle even harder on my seat. As I ride uphill, I suddenly notice a short piece of a branch stuck on the side of my front tire. I assume it is just stuck to the tire and try to brush it off with my glove while riding. But the small branch is stubborn. So, I stop to take a closer look. And lo and behold, the branch has pierced the sidewall of the tire and is stuck in the tire.

 Following an initial impulse, I want to pull it out immediately. But the thought of losing air, having to seal the hole with a tire plug, and pumping up the tire again stops me just in time. And since the tire has obviously been functioning in this state for hours, I decide to trust the sealant in the tire, trim the protruding end of the branch a bit, and just keep riding. And to give away the ending: the tire holds up flawlessly with this setup until the finish. I don’t have to pump up the tire at all during the entire race, neither front nor rear.

The next few hours, the route winds through the beautiful landscape of Durmitor Park. My butt, however, is increasingly making its discomfort known, and sitting is becoming increasingly difficult to endure as the path turns into a rocky track in places. So, I remember hearing on a podcast that long-distance cyclists have successfully alleviated their saddle sores with blister tape. And since I have a few of them in my luggage, I try my luck and apply them to the most affected areas. It works even better than expected, and while not pain-free, I am at least able to continue my ride with significantly reduced pain. The next few hours are scenically great, and the route winds up and down to the highest point of the entire route at over 1,900 meters.

I still have a good lead on my pursuers, but I feel increasingly lonely, as I haven’t had a single encounter with the media crew all day. They are a bit behind me with @stevenlehyaric and Zbigniew and miss me even at the highest point of the route as I plunge into the fast asphalt descent to Žabljak.

I reach Žabljak just before 3 PM, and according to the roadbook, it is “only” about 70 km to the next town, Kolašin. So, I decide I will definitely ride to Kolašin to take another sleep break there. But before continuing, I go shopping at the local supermarket and finally have the first ice cream of the race.

There have hardly been any opportunities to buy one so far, and when there are, it is either raining heavily, or it is too cold to enjoy ice cream. I also buy two packs of blister plasters at the pharmacy, as my saddle sores are increasing again, and I need more supplies. The problem is mainly that my first application has been somewhat amateurish, and the plasters are already coming loose at the edges, causing additional chafing. Since trying to remove them results in the realization that I am pulling off the affected skin along with them, I have to abandon the attempt and focus on spending the night in Kolašin, where I can remove and replace the plasters in the shower with warm water.

So, I set off again in the afternoon, feeling refreshed and with new supplies. The route leads back into the solitude of the hinterlands with constant ups and downs. The track becomes increasingly challenging, and the kilometers seem to drag on endlessly. The initial rough gravel road turns into a dual track and eventually into a dirt path, winding through the mountains with deep ruts and mud puddles. Eventually, night falls, and I become increasingly tired. But the fixed idea of riding to a hotel in Kolašin keeps driving me forward. I notice that I am becoming less efficient and slower, but my sleep-deprived brain is not clear enough to come up with alternative plans. And so, it comes to be that I am so tired at some point that I can’t keep my eyes open while riding and can’t continue on the technically demanding path. Unfortunately, there is no sheltered place to sleep nearby, so I have to lie down in the wet grass, protected only by my bivy bag from the cold wind, as continuing is out of the question. Just 20 minutes later, I wake up shivering and have to keep moving to avoid getting completely chilled.

The fixed idea of a hotel and a shower in Kolašin keeps driving me on, preventing me from considering the occasional good bivy spots along the way. The long descent into the town is another significant challenge, but my spirits lift as the town comes into sight. When I enter the hotel with a 24-hour reception that I have in mind into Google Maps at a junction off the track towards the town, it shows it is still over 6 km away. Although Kolašin is listed as “off route” in the race manual, the manual also states that “off route” options should be no more than 50 meters to 1 km from the track. So, I assume I am not at the correct turnoff to the town yet and continue following the race route. A few kilometers later, the route starts moving away from the town lights again and climbing back into the mountains. Another check at Google Maps shows the hotel is now about 10 km away. Despair sets in. But in my exhausted state, I still can’t think of alternatives. So, I turn around and head for the hotel.

Arriving there in the middle of the night, sometime between 1 and 2 AM, I have to ring the bell for a few minutes at the locked door until a friendly but visibly sleepy older lady opens it. I feel very sorry for disturbing her sleep and asking for a room, dirty and stinking at her counter. But she takes it in stride and even allows me to park my filthy bike at the reception. Our communication improves after we discover that we both speak German well after initial difficulties in English 😉

I am incredibly relieved when the battered blister plasters on my sore butt come off in the warm shower. A look at the tracker shows that the detour to the hotel adding around 20 additional kilometers and the slow ride before it has cost me quite a bit of my lead, but I figure that with 1.5 hours of sleep, I will be back on the route in time to start the last day most probably together with @stevenlehyaric. I set three alarms on my phone, lay my head on the soft pillow, and fall asleep immediately.

Day 6

I wake up without the alarm clock ringing. At first, I’m happy that I feel relatively good and didn’t even need 90 minutes of sleep. But the next moment, adrenaline rushes through every pore of my body… it’s bright in the room, and a glance at my phone tells me it’s already close to 6 AM. I’ve slept more than twice as long as I intended. How could this happen? I check the phone and see that I had set the times for the three alarms correctly, one minute apart. The only thing I can imagine in hindsight is that I forgot to activate them. Another glance at the tracking shows me that I have dropped from first to third place and also have to ride an additional 6 to 7 km to get back on route. What a disaster. On the other hand, getting more than 3 hours of sleep on the last night of a race is a real luxury, and the other two probably had much less rest. So, I don’t give up the race yet, quickly gather my things, and hop back on the bike with a whole collection of fresh blister plasters on my butt. Unfortunately, it’s still so early in the morning that there’s no food available at the hotel or any shops. No matter… I still have a few chocolate bars from the previous day and set off in pursuit of @stevenlehyaric and Zbigniew with those.

Luckily, I manage to turn my frustration over oversleeping into extra motivation, and I soon catch up to and overtake Zbigniew on the long climb back into the mountains. He’s in good spirits and even loudly cheers me on to catch @stevenlehyaric as well.

And so, I gradually reduce the 20 km lead of the first-place rider. But eventually, as it must, the higher intensity burns significantly more carbohydrates, and my food supply is running low. I already feel the first signs of a hunger bonk. The realization that I can no longer catch @stevenlehyaric like this brings me down quite a bit, as I have to slow down to make it through the long stretch to Nikšić (the next major town) by burning fat. Unlike yesterday, I’m not alone today because the media crew keeps appearing along the route to take photos.

As I half-starved, tingle through the endless grasslands around a huge wind farm, it becomes particularly tough again when I see the media crew sitting by the roadside with their stove, enjoying a delicious meal. The rules are merciless here (self-supported), and so I have to wish them a good appetite without being allowed to take anything myself. My drinks are also running out, but I manage to replenish my water supply from a stream, disinfecting it with Micropur. The bad mood only lasts for a short while as I remind myself how well my race has gone overall and that I can be more than satisfied with my performance and even a second place. So, I’m able to flip the switch in my head and enjoy the scenery and the prospect of finishing before nightfall.

Since the chase for first place has become obsolete and I also have a comfortable lead over third place again, a small lodge on the long descent to Nikšić comes just in time. I see two men eating in the garden, and a pictogram on a sign promises hospitality for guests. I hit the brakes and head into the garden to ask the two for food. I’m greeted with overwhelming hospitality and immediately invited to the table.

Only during the meal do I realize that the lodge is not even open yet, and I’m eating the two men’s afternoon snack, which they prepared while getting the lodge ready for the summer season. It’s very hard to say goodbye to this friendly setting, but I want to reach the finish line while the restaurants are still open, so I set off again, freshly strengthened.

Upon arriving in Nikšić, I make another stop at a shop where the media crew is also halting to stock up on chocolate bars, gummy bears, and drinks for the remaining nearly 70 km. And to eat my second and final ice cream during the race. Now, nothing can go wrong. The rest of the route is supposed to be mostly on asphalt and easy to ride, and so it is. Only the main road out of the city is mentally challenging because there’s a lot of traffic, and drivers here have no sense of cyclists‘ safety needs, overtaking incredibly closely.

But eventually, that is also done, and reaching the top of the last hill brings pure joy. The Bay of Rosin and the sea are bathed in the most beautiful evening sun, and I stop to take photos and fully enjoy the moment. I relish the remaining 800 meters of descent to the coast in a rush of speed and am happy at the finish to be warmly welcomed by the organizers, volunteers, media crew, and my friend @stevenlehyaric.

The missed chance of winning due to the involuntarily long sleep break has the undeniable advantage that I can truly enjoy the first moments at the finish without being completely exhausted and falling asleep immediately.

After the obligatory finisher photos, a small snack and a cool drink, I’m lucky enough to be able to check into my accommodation a day earlier than originally reserved. After a shower, I arm myself with a large pizza and head back to the finish area to give Zbigniew, the third-place finisher, a worthy reception along with @stevenlehyaric.

That’s it for the race itself. Many thanks to Bea, Luca, and the volunteers for this great event. An incredible challenge, but also a wonderful experience with memories that will last a lifetime. Respect to those who have made it through my lengthy report up to this point 🙂

Post Race Recovery

And what could be a better way to wrap up an ultra race than a few fond memories of days spent indulging without restraint in the best company at the finish?