TCRNo6 part 3: Northern Diversion

The moon lights my way to Austria via Kranjska Gora the next morning. Riding through this Slovenian National Park it’s difficult to make out any signs of civilisation save the occasional campsite or stone farmhouse. High above the dark silhouette of a mountain ridge draws a jagged line under the stars. I’m too busy grinding my way up to the 1680m col to notice dawn arrive but I’m glad of the daylight on my descent into Kranjska Gora on slippery cobbled switchbacks.

I’m now at the base of a 1600km dog leg north to Poland and CP3. I’d forgotten how mountainous the middle of Austria is but I’m rewarded by fantastic alpine views. By early afternoon I’m wondering where to sleep for the night, last minute booking app Trivago fails to come up with anything in my price range and the towns I pass through are deadly quiet. Noticing a pizzeria I stop for a meal with a plan to ride into the night and bivvy later, it’s only 50km to the Danube.

Riding towards the Danube post pizza under clear skies is a delight, floodlit castles keep watch over the valley from a ridge high above and a light tail wind encourages me north to the river's languid waters. I sneak into a campsite and roll my sleeping bag out on the damp ground under a tree. Four hours later I'm on the move again through the mist of Friday's dawn. Climbing out of the Danube valley is a wake up call I could do without but it does at least warm the blood flowing to my chilled hands and feet. The sun rises high above shortening my shadow, and without warning, the road changes abruptly from smooth tarmac to pock marked concrete. I’m now in the Czech Republic. 

The mountains are now a distant memory, the scenery here alternates between undulating fields of golden wheat and ancient pine woodland. Quiet lanes lead north under a dense canopy of Douglas Firs until I emerge miles later outside a large town where a late bakery breakfast is found. I’ve been looking forward to croissants but there's nothing resembling a croissant or pain au raisin here. The cakes are still good though. Today seems like hard work, my legs feel tired and I’m making heavy weather of what should be an easy cruising kind of day. Perhaps this is ‘the hump’, I’ve been warned that at some point 3-5 days into this kind of ride I’ll have a day where motivation dives and fatigue catches up with me. I just need to keep moving, tomorrow will be different I tell myself as I book a hotel in the town of Kolin on the River Elbe for that evening. A tweet telling me I’m in 30th place boosts my motivation late in the day and by the time I arrive in Kolin I’m feeling more positive. I'm too late for a restaurant table so I end up finding a takeaway pizza which is washed down with some of the Czech Republic’s famous pilsner, I love Czech beer. 

My hotel overlooks the town square and I’m surprised to find locals still partying in the square at 4.30am the next morning. North of Kolin there’s a bucolic beauty to the Czech landscapes I roll through, they appear almost like water colours in the early morning light, softened by wisps of mist.

The town of Vrchlabi is my last stop before CP3, there’s 700m climbing ahead of me so I get stuck into a breakfast of milkshake, fruit and pastries on the grass outside a supermarket.  The climb to CP3 is an easy spin from the south, families cruise down the descent on what look like big wheeled mountain scooters. One man scoots down with his kid clinging to his back, she screams all the way as he takes corners at 20mph. No helmets required,  just optimism.

The parcours on the north side is a different matter, an out and back ordeal on a rough 25% gradient road marked with craters and tree root ridges. My brakes howl as wheels slip and bounce on the way down, legs and lungs scream on the way back up but at least I’ve stayed on the pedals. For once I’m efficient at the checkpoint and I’m soon on my way back down the hill, southbound for Greece. It’s more than 800km to the next checkpoint and I'm estimating three days riding to Sarajevo. Best crack on then...

day 5

day 6

TCRNo6 part 2: East is East

Alpine High

Stunning views and tight rolling switchbacks vie for attention on the descent to a village incongruously littered with high rise hotels. Checking my route I am reminded that the tunnels after the village are banned in the race rules. I’ve planned a route around them but the route isn’t detailed enough and I end up retracing my tyre tracks back up the hill twice. Arriving at the final and longest tunnel I take the gravel path to the left up onto the roof of the tunnel. The path peters out above a steep loose rock strewn slope. I trudge back up the path and remember some instructions about having to enter galleria to find the road that avoids the rest of the tunnel. I coast down and stop at a barrier where the road drops from sunlit galleria into a dark tube diving down into the mountain’s interior. There’s no way I can go in there, within minutes more riders arrive puzzling the same conundrum. To ride into the tunnel would risk disqualification. One by one we each take the track off to the side of the galleria ignoring the “Entritt Verboten” sign on the gate, it’s the only way to avoid the tunnel although we’d all prefer not to climb the extra 100m of switchbacked track the diversion forces on us. 

Next stop Innsbruck, but that next stop seems unreachable. A strong headwind resists every pedal stroke, I drop low over my handlebars to dodge it but progress along the wide valley bottom is painfully slow. The temptation keep stopping is hard to resist and hours pass before the approach to Innsbruck is marked by a British Airways 737 swooping low overhead near the airport.

The monotony of the climb up the Brenner pass on the old road is tempered by a long chat with a woman who is cycling home from work. We converse using a mix of German and English about family, Brexit, cycling and lots more besides. It’s one of those random meetings that restores your spirits and before I know it I’m descending into Italy. I happen on a hotel early evening and get a good rate for a room. Pasta, weissbier and a comfy bed are enjoyed but my rather meagre 140 miles mean I need to be away for 4am the following morning.

German seems to be the language of choice in the Süd Tirol despite it technically being Italy, it suites me, I was once fluent and it’s good to be using it again. The bike paths through this area are some of the best I have ridden, I follow one ribbon of smooth tarmac for hours as it flows eastwards up a broad valley in the shadow of the Dolomites. I love this scenery, wide valleys of alpine meadows with tall limestone peaks standing guard to either side. I make a mental note to return here. Later in the day there are climbs but they are welcome after hours on flat bike paths. It also rains, a lot, but it’s similarly welcome after hours of 30 degree heat.

I bump into a Nick and Doug at the Austro-Italian border further east. We all take the opportunity to stock up in the filling station knowing that we will soon enter rural Slovenia where there are very few shops. The service area is busy with truckers having a beer so I don’t hang around. 

The Quiet End of the Alps

Slovenia is beautiful; quiet roads, Alpine scenery and little else. The CP2 parcours is a steep climb to the 2000m Mangert saddle. It starts off vicious with 15% gradients but soon relents and I’m pleased to catch a few riders on the climb. Unfortunately the competitive side of my brain then won't allow me to stop for photos. Except, when sheep block the road and all I can do is wait for the herd and their shepherd to pass on the tight single track road. I’m on a high once more, these mountain views coupled with the sense of achievement from reaching the CP2 parcours is better than any drug. The descent to checkpoint 2 is a hoot, I pick up another couple of places and arrive at the checkpoint hotel wearing a massive grin. I dine at the hotel with a couple of familiar faces and we procrastinate over renting the last available hotel room but I wind up sleeping under a tree outside the hotel entrance once the umpah band in the town centre pipes down.

 

day 3

day 4