TCR no 8 – Hanging on (CP4 > FINISH)

With parcours 4 successfully passed, the finish was calling. Two more days were keeping me from the blue shores of Burgas. I was already dreaming of the rest that I would enjoy there. No more hurry, a fresh breeze to cool down. It can’t be that far now – can it?

We pass the ‘aquaduct’ shortcut together with Juris. After this last obstacle starts a race to catch the last ferry, 200km away, at 19h30. A surrealistic scene sees Juris and me buy cookies and drinks in a corner shop, with euros and no common language to explain what we want. A gipsy woman offers to trade our euros for romanian money at a rate we did not verify. But we get the food we hoped for, and the seller is fed up of our endless complications.

Juris then takes some advance as I charge my power banks at a gas station. I also take a nap, until I remember that 4 hours is not too much for 109km. I will need to hurry. A perfectly timed ride allows me to catch up with the last rider crossing today. I never had so much FOMO and was already afraid to spend one more night on the wrong bank of the Danube.

Relieved to have crossed the huge stream, I let my legs float with the water. This movement feels like a 5* massage and I think I stayed like that for 30 minutes. This is what it must feel like to arrive in Burgas. Come on, it’s not far now. The first kilometres in Bulgaria can be summarised as: wildlife, poor and no smiles. I cross an awful lot of wild animals – even have a collision with a badger, who runs straight into my rear wheel. The spokes must have hurt him! I get stung by my second wasp (stuck in my jersey) and see white owls fly above my head. Dogs are more rare this time.

On arrival in my hotel in Svishtov, the owner and his employee laugh at me in my face. I’ve just cycled 290km and would like my keys. But they laugh and ask money first. Ok, money you can have. The room is old, not well equipped and the electric system is really complicated. But I need to sleep. Get it on!

The next morning I need to plan tightly to arrive in a good position. I wake up at 5am and start riding after visiting the bakery. I pile up the kilometres well until my first flat, then my second. They have different causes: a thistle first, then some kind of friction in the tube. Let’s stay focused: there are 3-4 competitors right before me, I can catch them. But after 200km the wind is turning. I feel less energy in my legs and Burgas becomes a far away dream. « Come on, Bulgaria! Let me go to the party! » I scream. The last day was not supposed to be like this! Heat, head winds, flats, bad roads, road works… »

And now my 3rd and 4th puncture. I’m desperate now. Despite the punctures, I manage to catch Flavien Scordel (cap 116) who is having a breakdown the last 2 days. But the last surprise of the day: my power bank, which I loaded yesterday, has not stored any electricity! I have one charge of my GPS (usually reaches 200km) and the battery of my iPhone to finish the final parcour without missing. This will be really tight!

At the start of the final parcour I turn to iPhone routing. The app guides me through the start of the parcour but uses far too much battery life. I deactivate any functions I don’t need. Go, my little phone. Lead me to Burgas! Luckily the route is pretty simple, and the device does not need energy when there are no turns. I manage to reach the shore of the Black Sea and take a picture. Then it’s about finding the place where the party is at, because it has already started and I’m missing out!

The phone battery dies as I’m entering Sarafovo town. It must be somewhere here, but nobody knows where the Burgas Beach Resort is. I stop at a restaurant, one creek away from the Finish line. Can I charge my phone here? Yes. My pre-finisher beer helps me be patient while the phone reboots.

After 15 minutes, I’m finally able to find the exact location of the finish line. It’s 800m away! I reach the Burgas Beach Resort at 20h28. Nobody was expecting me, as it seems my tracker was blocked 50km away. No applause, no finisher photo, but I made it to the party!!

#tcrno8 #tcrno8cap54 #transcontinental #race #ultracycling #cycling#cyclinglife #cyclingshots #roadcycling #roadslikethese #fromwhereiride

TCR no 8 – Fighting (CP3 > CP4)

Climbing out of Mostar meant a huge portion of D+. On this morning climb I met Kirsten Cluley (cap 21), a friendly Scottish rider. We had such a nice chat that we almost considered riding as a pair to Burgas. But then we remembered the rules and took separate paths. I met her again at the shepherd’s border crossing that many riders took into Montenegro. It avoided a huge detour via Foca (to the North) and was reasonably steep and paved. There was only a small risk getting caught and sent to Foca.

Kirsten and I descended the switchbacks to Pluzine together until I had my first flat of the race. I don’t remember what caused it, but all of a sudden it was there – invited at the party. I pumped it back up twice to reach CP3. There I could repair it in good company, with blue Montenegrin lemonade and some cake. With the volunteers I regretted that riders around me spent so little time at the Control Points. Back when I was a slower rider in 2018 we would hang around for an hour or so. But the Durmitor was calling, and we wanted to ride it at daylight. Fair enough, that’s a good reason. I jumped back on the bike and rode towards the legendary rock-hewn tunnels.

Climbing the Durmitor was the undisputed highlight of my TCR, a mystical moment that made me pronounce the words: « whoever organises this race is a genius! » I thanked Lost Dot for taking us here (ok, using our own legs, but still!) Green and yellow meadows as far as the eye could reach, were catching the evening sun. Little red houses scattered all across the plain made it look like a Groenland Summer landscape. At the top, Kirsten was taking pictures and I reminded her that there was a second peak and that she may want to hurry to leave the high mountain (2000m) before night falls.

Zabljak at the bottom of the parcour was freezing cold. This temperature drop was unexpected, especially since we were down 1000m from Durmitor. I put on all my layers and pedaled on to Pljevlja across the Tara River Canyon (the largest canyon in Europe). Pljevlja was a filthy industrial city and the hotel looked more like an old house with beds. A few minutes after my shower I heard a female English voice discussing with the landlord: Kirsten was in the same hotel as I was. We had a quick word of encouragement, then went to sleep.

The next day was the least prepared one of my race. I actually met Lizzie for the first time as she was queuing at the Serbian border, behind 10 cars. Really? How British is that? I taught her how to jump a queue and so she did. She asked me what my route was to cross Serbia and I honestly answered that I would « follow the arrows on my GPS ». I had not studied the names of cities and had no idea where I would sleep that evening.

This unpreparedness was both a blessing and a threat. A blessing because I started the day fresh and with no apprehension. A threat, that is what Paul Alderson would find out. At a crossing, I suddenly said: « I need to take this street ». For some reason Paul trusts me and takes the same street. A shortcut through the hills. The road takes us up and down via some gravel paths. He starts regretting that he followed me on this one. In a small village, we had home-made pancakes with goat cheese in someone’s garden. But at the next crossing, Paul just followed the arrows on his GPS. We still had a memorable moment! 🙂 Descending I sang Bryan Adams.

Serbia offers fully loaded plum trees, live music, cevapi, lush nature, raspberry fields and serious climbs. My route takes me again over two mountain ranges. The shortcut is faster than Paul’s route, but undoubtedly harder too! I treat myself to some petrol station food and call my daughter in Cacak. She laughs at the name. And then it’s the evening stretch to Kragujevac. Time to reload all the batteries. Today was a shorter day because of the many climbs and my second puncture. But it was fun crossing rural Serbia like this!

In the morning, as usual, I spend 30 minutes checking social media and the other riders’ tracks. I notice that someone riding my planned route is struggling and made a U-turn. Has she seen a prohibition sign on the E road? This indication is a clear sign to activate my plan B. From where I am I will improvise a route towards the Danube and then follow Malte and the Paul’s until the allowed river crossing.

The day turns out to be a 250km time trial. I’m desperately hoping to catch the 3 Pauls and Lizzie and eat a spaghetti together. But they never stop! The flat terrain and calm wind invites them to continue. And so do I. I drink whenever I can. Zane Jakobsone keeps following the pace, despite the fact that every time I meet her she looks like she is going to scratch. 200km at 26km/h average without stopping. I think she was bluffing.

When we cross into Romania the civilisational shock is huge! We leave a quiet rural are of Serbia for a busy dual carriage way leading to a coal plant. The whole city of Turnu Severin looks like 10x Charleroi. Disposed waste burns in the open air. Stray dogs walk around. What is this place?!

I decide to pedal on and make it a 350km day. The hotel I booked in Târgu Jiu can wait for my arrival at midnight. I asked them if they could foresee something to eat. On my arrival, an old lady shows me the kitchen and pasta. I make myself a bolognese and feel at home. He daughter translates on the phone.

Tonight I feel like I have done a bit too much. It’s outpacing the stray dogs that got me. At a certain point I was sprinting at 40km/h to shake them off. That’s not ideal for your cardio at the end of such a long race. But I sleep well and only leave the city around 9am, after buying myself a spare tire of an excellent brand: Deli Tire. Don’t know yet if that will help me.

Next is the Transalpina pass (2100m), a steep monster climbing straight up from 300m to the top. Many Romanian tourists take their family up this road for a day trip. Therefore it’s full of cars of course! They are parked anywhere. I meet a tired Frank Scholler on the way up. Zane is again right behind me, and I manage to catch up with Lizzie before the summit. We descend together to CP4 where we have lunch together with Juris Skrebels (cap 146). He is feeling tired and has a short nap before climbing back up the pass.

I follow Lizzie’s rhythm who is rightly concerned about the 45km long gravel path that awaits. She was clever however to keep bread and food in her pockets. I only have 1,5l of water and trust on my legs for the rest. After 500m of cautious riding my both tires run flat. Damn, these GP5000s are brittle! While I’m repairing, I see Lizzie coming back on foot. Her tires are damaged and she wants to get new stuff before tackling the parcour tomorrow.

My decision is much more silly. With no food and almost no water left, I decide to keep going on. My front tire does not accept the patches, so I start walking until the path goes downhill. Juris catches me with his two valid tires. He has the wings to take him out of here, I don’t. So I need to hurry up, night is falling.

Finally the downhill part arrives. I start riding my bike on the front rim. The sound of metal on stone is excruciating. This could break my rim and end my TCR. But what other choice do I have? I want to get out of here asap. At Juris’ great surprise, I manage riding on gravel on the rim quite well. The survival instinct, perhaps. On the path, I meet a shepherd with 4 huge dogs. He walks me past them, as they may bite for real. Then it’s an endless dark path in the forest, my rim making ever more noise. The last 10km of the path are just inexistant. Huge canyons have formed due to the rain. Riding here means falling. I take these passages very cautiously.

After about 6 hours, at midnight, I finally reach the safe tarmac at the other side of parcour 4. It’s time now to put on my spare tire (Deli Tire) and the last tube that I have. We’ll see how much time that holds… 20km further I lay down under a roofing as it starts raining. What a hell of a day this was! And only 172km.

#tcrno8 #tcrno8cap54 #transcontinental #race #ultracycling #cycling#cyclinglife #cyclingshots #roadcycling #roadslikethese #fromwhereiride

TCR no 8 – Overheating (CP2 > CP3)

From Passo Tonnale, the Alps chapter was over. It was quite a relief to successfully pass the largest mountain range of Europe. But we all knew that the next enemy would be the heat of the Po Valley. The next days would bring us further to the South along the Croatian Coast, Bosnia and Montenegro. Things were getting serious. And the dogs were waiting 😀

The very long descent to Trento allowed to pump up the average speed of the day. I had fun chasing some cars in the switchbacks and even reached 80km/h at a certain point. Trento smelled like a city of Southern Europe. The night was nicely warm and there was music in the streets. Since I was in late mode now, I enjoyed breakfast and let the morning people (Lizzie Jenkins in the first place) take their daily advance. On the tracker I noticed that Raymond Dulieu, usually a top 20 guy, had slept close to Trento. What was he doing there?

I met him a couple of kilometers further and he told me that his bike was new and did not have the same geometry. This caused his achilles to hurt. A few words later he had found some extra grit and rode an excellent day until Trieste. I would not see him again until Burgas, as his excellent condition allowed him to ride faster than me.

My struggle with the heat was real that day. Pasta and buffala in Bassano del Grappa helped a bit, but soon I was feeling very thirsty again, as if I could not drink enough. Milk, water, lemonade, frozen yoghurt… Only a short nap could bring back some energy. I also dipped my head in the open-air irrigation systems that this area has. After a battlefield of a day, I ended up in Trieste with 295km on the Wahoo. The hotel could serve me a quick dish of meat and pasta, right before closure.

There I was, one week in, ready to tackle Slovenia and Croatia. What a first week this had been! I could be proud of the progress!

The next morning as I climbed to the Slovenian border, I met my friend and TCRno6 legend Malte Hager (cap 63). He is one of the participants I considered as a direct competitor, and there he was. His strong and continuous riding had allowed him to catch up with the slight delay he had before the Alps and I suspected that he was in sleep or food deficit. But I was wrong! He rode on very strong until Burgas and ended a few hours before me.

Few kilometres after Rijeka I discovered the joy that drinking 1,5 litres of raw milk can be. I felt so thirsty that I could empty such a bottle in 2-3 minutes. My family suspected that it caused me to be tired the next days. Digesting so much milk takes a lot of energy. But so far things went fine. For the rest of the day I would follow the light blue sea to near Zadar. I felt a bit lonely at the seaside, as all other participants were navigating inland. But the sea breeze definitely helped me advancing faster than I should have. Resupplies were scarce, though. But by the end of the day, I was proud of my 280km and close to Raymond and Malte, Lizzie not so far.

The town of Obrovac where I had arrived had no rooms left, but after a few beers a German tourist called Hadi and his sons were impressed by my ride and welcomed me into their apartment where I could take a shower and camp. It was not such a good night because he snored a lot. But probably better than should I have slept outside in a bus shelter.

Leaving Obrovac I was treated to a morning climb to 600m. The road crossed some kind of Western landscape with loose cows and destroyed villages. I had 1,5 litres of milk again in the next village. But then it was like all the energy had left me. The food was not enough to refuel me. I took a 1 hour nap in a closed school. A bit further I needed spaghetti. It was just time to accept that I was having ‘THAT’ day. My friends were slowly pedaling away and I could do nothing to catch them. Just accept and try to limit the damage.

With the milder evening temperatures my energy level came back. I changed my route completely with the aim to sleep in Mostar. The perspective of following a valley encouraged me. Some easy kilometres that would bring me closer to CP3. I soon crossed the Bosnian border, the kingdom of Nikica. Right across the border, a big party was going on with fires and music. It gave a tremendous first impression of Bosnia. People are so alive and outgoing here! There are lights in the night! I kept a high average speed until the last climb before Mostar.

Wait but… A climb to reach a river city? Who invents these things? Mostar has an elevation of literally 50m, so why do we need to climb this steep road to 350m? At a certain point I was screaming at the engineers who built this nonsense. I was tired and desperate. But the view made up for it, partly. Mostar seemed to fill up the whole valley, as far as the eye could see. A bit like the typical views of Beverly Hills.

I crashed down in a hotel that I had booked in advance. It was clad with Mother Theresa paintings and other religious paraphernalia. And the leaderboard told me that Lizzie was staying in the same hotel. For some strange reason I felt reassured that she was around. Even without seeing her, I knew that I had pedaled well and her little dot 24 connected me to the race.

#tcrno8 #tcrno8cap54 #transcontinental #race #ultracycling #cycling#cyclinglife #cyclingshots #roadcycling #roadslikethese #fromwhereiride

TCR no 8 – Reality (CP1 > CP2)

This is the part in which you actually remember that you are just a human, and that your bike, too, can fail. I realised that the Czech part was way longer than I expected, so I would need to sleep in this country. I tried to manage without krona’s but people here had very few card devices. At a certain point I almost robbed a pub, buying them 1,5 litres of lemonade with a 5€ banknote they did not want. « It’s good, no? It’s good. » Czech Republic got its revenge hours later when I was desperately looking for hotels in a city at 21h30. Too late, all receptions were closed. So I slept in front of their door, on ten open egg boxes. A very cold night, it was!

The next morning, the legs were not with me. That bad night of course, and the lack of a breakfast buffet, my Achilles heel! It took a few stops to glean the needed calories. Then my gears started acting weird, and my bottom bracket made a creaking noise. The latter was not harmful, said a Czech mechanic. « You can ride 3000km. Just annoying sound. » The gears had a different problem, that a second mechanic (50km further) diagnosed as a loose rivet blocking the derailleur to reach the easier gears. Ok, so here I was before the Alps with a benign creaking bottom bracket and gears that would not shift because of a screw. I soon put tape on that screw so it kept in place for longer. Several shops did not have a spare derailleur of my type. I cycled on to the Alps.

Despite the hiccups, I ended the day with another 300km. It took 50km in the dark to get there and my ‘early’ rhythm was screwed now. I managed to buy some late night pastries and a gin tonic to reward me for the good pedaling.

The next morning I was thus in ‘late’ mode and could enjoy breakfast. My routing was efficient and I was catching up on some competitors before the Alps. The tape was holding for now. I ate some more fish before tackling the first Alp pass (Kesselberg). The lakes in this area were idyllic and made me think of spending holidays with my daughter Camille next year. We could rent a boat and swim in the blue water and… Sebi! PEDAL!!!

Few kilometers later it started raining heavily. That was a first for me in the Transcontinental. After a 30 minute break it did not calm down, so I removed my shoes and pedaled the next mountain pass (Seefeld) with my slippers. I was stunned that this ski resort is accessible by train (it has a real station!). The descent at the other side, still in slippers, was jaw dropping. Telfs and Imst lied there, 700m below in a lush valley between the clouds.

In that valley, between Imst and Landeck, I became increasingly hungry. I desperately ate the gummy bears in my food pouch until the last bear standing. It was the first hypoglycemia of the race. I was cold and hungry. A quick pizza gave the needed cartridges to reach the hotel 65km further up the valley. The hotel was fantastic. I washed all my gear and had a tremendous night. At breakfast I met the French duo (Gabriel & Arthur, 254).

The next day would bring on four passes: normally this would be a good day for me, if the bike and legs allowed. And yes, the rain had washed away the noise from my bottom bracket and the annoying rived in my derailleur had worn out into a workable shape. This day started well. I climbed Reschenpass and Passo Umbrail (2513m) and passed a few riders. Zane Jakobsone seemed to be close to scratching and I encouraged her to keep advancing – even walking is progress! More riders were on this road, I could smell them! We met at Control Point 2 right before Passo Gavia (2600m).

The hotel that hosted CP2 was a nice wooden chalet. The volunteers gave us some welcome cheering and a homey feeling. Unfortunately the culinary dimension of that cheering was unavailable. The hotel pub only served cake, coffee and coca cola. There went the dream of a cheesy pizza before Gavia. We had a friendly chat with Paul Ashman, Paul Alderson and Kim Heikkinen (yes, them again!). Tim Hull-Bailey had just climbed the Gavia missing the CP. He would have to do it again.

On the climb I chased the Pauls and ended on pure cardio with the first Paul. « Good climbing skills » he said 🙂 The kind of compliment that makes your day in such a race, given the very high level of participants. The descent of Gavia (Italian side) was one of the best mountain experiences I ever had. The narrow road crossed right through natural habitats and it looked as if we were discovering it. The surprise at the bottom in Ponte di Legna, was that there was one more pass (Passo Tonnale) to reach the right valley. I should study my routes better beforehand 😀

#tcrno8 #tcrno8cap54 #transcontinental #race #ultracycling #cycling#cyclinglife #cyclingshots #roadcycling #roadslikethese #fromwhereiride

TCR no 8 – Excitement (START > CP1)

« It looks as if you’re on holidays and enjoying » said mom after two days of racing.

And indeed, despite the colossal distances, I was still relatively fresh and keeping my body in balance. Posts about varied food dishes in a restaurant were not rare, and I sent short videos via Whatsapp as if I were on a school trip to the Antwerp Zoo.

The Transcontinental Race number 8 had started successfully in Geraardsbergen and I was following known roads through my home town Brussels, to Leuven, Tienen, Sint-Truiden (I was born 20km from here!), Tongeren and Maastricht. By the time we crossed the German border, the morning sun rose and I had an average of about 27km/h. The legs were still fine and I was surrounded by really good riders. I really felt that I could actually keep up with them if I just managed my sleep well.

Day one finished with 440km. It was 20h30 and there appeared a small hotel by the road. I took a portion of pasta and went straight to bed. The next morning I woke up to plan at 4h00 and got my first 100km in before 10h30. The wind gently pushed us via the rosary of cultural cities: Gotha, Erfurt, Weimar, Jena, Gera, Chemnitz. Even if some fatigue was crippling in the legs, I made good progress and always found ice cream or fruit juice to refuel them.

By the end of the second day, the Wahoo said 350km (so almost 800km in 48 hours). My absolute record! I was ahead of the riders that I considered my strongest competitors. Well done, Sebi! In the small town of Augustusburg I hit the window of a pension. The landlady did not expect guests, but gave me a room and a surrogate breakfast, including fresh baby apples from the garden!

The next morning, I woke up on schedule again and made my way to Control Point 1 in Krupka, CZ. There were a few climbs to get there and it started raining. But the motivation was strong and I reached the Control Point together with super fast cap number 3 Cara Dixon. This was my favourite CP: a mountain shelter with solid food and a wooden architecture. I just loved the oxtail soup and pasta. The company was made of participants who would mostly finish the race around me: Paul Alderson, Kim Heikkinen, Frank Scholler,  Gabriel Bercolano, Arthur Proust.

TCRno6 legend Jean-Yves Couet was collecting our signatures and encouraging us. It was great to see he had travelled from Vienna to cheer on us! Cara Dixon had already left. I thought it was strategically not clever to skip such a good opportunity to eat quality food, but then again perhaps I just needed a good excuse to rest a bit longer. My Brussels friend Zeno Bonduelle was near the CP struggling with a broken hub. I crossed fingers that he could repair it, and he did! (and eventually finished TCR days before me)

As I finished the very hilly parcour 1, I could not avoid thinking about my fellow participants who are not so keen climbers and who would probably end this mandatory section devastated. Especially the last useless climb, ending with a 25% street was tricky! I also felt really hungry (again) after finishing it, and it took me about one hour to set off from Litomerice… next stop: Italy!

#tcrno8 #tcrno8cap54 #transcontinental #race #ultracycling #cycling#cyclinglife #cyclingshots #roadcycling #roadslikethese #fromwhereiride

TCR no 8 – Hard not to compare

Since 2018, the Transcontinental Race had explored different audacious formulas that nevertheless did not fully motivate the adventurer in me. And when you tackle a monster like this, you need to believe in it 100%. Therefore, I had skipped the TCRs that included a long ride to Brest, or cobbled roads around Roubaix. Too similar to Belgium. But when a rather classical route from Geraardsbergen to Burgas was issued, I finally inserted my coin – and got selected!

This came a bit unexpected, and I could not avoid making comparisons with my preparation in 2018. Would I be as strong as I was then? That first edition had been epic to me. Back in 2018, living in Alicante, I had been able to train every weekend in the neighbouring mountains. The bike was a new build of Jaegher’s Interceptor Flymaster, and I had motivated a pocket army of colleagues, friends and family behind my project.

Since then, many things had changed:

POSITIVE: I had gained experience, finished B-HARD in Bosnia with a 350km per day average, everested a hill in Brussels. I knew my strengths (good climbing legs, playfulness) and weaknesses (need for good sleep, vulnerability to boredom). The bike and material were already mine, so the investment would be less consequent. And I knew how to route efficiently and improvise on the fly.

NEGATIVE: I did not live in Spain anymore, but in Brussels, Belgium. A much flatter area where sometimes the weather does not allow to train for long days. My situation had changed from family to single father, meaning that every second weekend I could not train. And I also feared that, since this was a second time, I would be less enthusiastic and therefore prone to abandon.

To make sure that all elements were on my side, I followed this strategy:

1. Religiously use the same materials that worked for me in 2018. I managed to find the same models of PedalEd frame bags, Premiata ‘Eric’ perfored shoes, VP Components flat pedals, Mavic Ksyrium aluminium wheels. I took the same ‘Leotron’ vitamins and electrolytes, the same oversized water bottle (‘Solan de Cabras’, only available in Spain).
2. Whatever I could improve, I did. As the Conti GP4000s don’t exist anymore, I opted for the faster (but weaker) GP5000s. I cut off the drops of my handlebars, since they were broken and I never used them anyways. I left the mattress and GoPro home, but still took the sleeping bag. I also took more lamps, to charge them less often.
3. I trained everywhere I could: fast commuting, visiting my parents, cycling to the Netherlands and Germany, accepting last-minute invitations to ride Kom op Tegen Kanker (220km), Race Across Belgium (350km). I also organised myself a week of mountain training in Catalunya, out of mere superstition. Like that, my mind was reassured that I had trained in Spain like the last time. And at the start I had put 7000km in.

With all of this in place, for some reason I answered to my friend and fellow finisher Jonah Jones that I felt stronger than in 2018 – « for no obvious reason ». The proof of the pudding would happen on 24/07, a date that also reads twenty four / seven. For a race around the clock, no better date could be found!

#tcrno8 #tcrno8cap54 #transcontinental #race #ultracycling #cycling#cyclinglife #cyclingshots #roadcycling #roadslikethese #fromwhereiride

TCR START – We were kings

I had hardly slept that night. Images of the race were playing in my head. On the way to Geraardsbergen there was no way to relax either. We arrived at the Transcontinental registration hall with my whole family. Both my parents, my wife and my daughter were with me that day, and followed me through the registration process. It’s funny to see that they appear on the background of several GCN videos.

Entering the sports hall was a very special experience. I’d been following the activities of many participants for years, without ever meeting them. They felt familiar but also virtual. Talking to ultracycling legend Kristof Allegaert was such a moment. He was very down to earth and took the time for a long-time fan like me. We sorted out a solution to attach my frame bag, and he wished me a safe trip, which I’m sure helped! (I don’t believe in God, but I do believe in Kristof Allegaert…)

Registration went smoothly. I passed the insurance and identity check, the bike check, installed a satellite tracker and queued for an official photo by Kinesis UK. After that, I tried to lay down in a corner, but that didn’t work out. The best thing I could do was socialise and enjoy the moment.

Belgian ultracyclist Kelly Vander Haeghen (aka @k_karnemelk) had come over to get something of the TCR atmosphere. My uncle and sister arrived to encourage me, and most family members were probably a bit worried that something would happen to me. That gave the whole moment a solemnous touch.

Meanwhile, the market square of Geraardsbergen filled up with high-viz wearing cyclists. The stress steadily grew and I took my place amid the other participants whom I had talked to: François Laperche, Ryan Le Garrec and Bruno Ferraro. Our last looks said « good luck ». After a few words from the organisers, the countdown and traditional clock sound announced the start of Transcontinental Race n°6. The whole group started moving. A movement that wouldn’t stop for two weeks.

Our first pedal strokes were accompanied by the TCR anthem « Be More Mike », written in memory of adventure cyclist and TCR founder Mike Hall. The song popped up in my head days later and helped me pedal on. « One foot in front of the other now, day after day. »

NEXT DAY >

NEXT DAY >

#tcrno6 #tcrno6cap54 #transcontinental #race #ultracycling #cycling#cyclinglife #cyclingshots #roadcycling #roadslikethese #fromwhereiride

TCR DAY 5 – The day I defeated the two-headed CP2 monster.

I left Hotel Sonne with dry shoes thanks to a very helpful Dutch employee. The first 40 kms were flat and easy. I met Meg Pugh whom I confused with Ala MaKota. A short mountain pass took me to the next Slovenia-bound valley. The legs were tired, so I bought some local dairy products. While I was resting I saw Loïc Nys Taymans pedaling by. He looked remarkably fresh, and was calling home on his headset. We had a pleasant Brusseleer reunion a bit further, before he stopped to buy a new cassette for the mountains. I stopped by a magnificent water fountain and had a chat with Antonio Baños, Jakob Dieckman and I think Roger Chuchard/Thomas Chateau. Then we all climbed to Tarvisio and Slovenia. Before the huge climb up the Mangart, I needed calories. A big trout in a Tarvisio restaurant did the job.

Mangart was a tough cardio exercise on a 28, but the VIEWS from the 2070m top were worth it! The many tunnels and sheep gave the needed diversion. On the way down I spoke to Anna. The road to CP2 in Bovec was fast. I met a Finnish veteran and dotwatcher, and spoke to my Murcian neighbours the Cycling Bros (Daniel Nicolás Muñoz & Guillermo NM) for the first time. Without losing time I climbed up the second leg of the parcours, the much underestimated Vrsič pass (1600m). I was proud to reach the top without walking, having passed 3 other riders.

On the way down, I caught Loïc Nys Taymans and Jamie Saunders but they had the legs to ride into the night. I stopped in Kranjska Gora, a city with only ONE room left, lost 1 hour finding that room, and had a quick midnight kebab before sleeping.

203km540 – 10h53 – 18,7km – 3713m up

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NEXT DAY >

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TCR DAY 6 – Northbound, trying to escape the Alps.

I started pedaling, angry at myself for having stopped in such expensive place (hotel asked 110€) and lost so much precious time (left at 9h30). I swiftly climbed the last pass separating me from Austria, entered Villach where I got lost on the same bike path as Roberto Baldassi before following quiet roads along the Ossiacher See. I tried to get food and drinks in regularly to make this a long day. Following the advice of @thetranscontinental team, I avoided the 317 and took another valley where most shops were closed. Ive Weygers and Charles Billau followed the same logics. Hours later, the end of the Alps was in sight, but not quite. I lay down in a beautiful field, my body crying for rest! Did I need to sleep there, at 6PM?

Encouraged by my followers, I went on and grabbed a pizza at the next restaurant. I shared the table with Dario Demarco, from whom I was expecting pizza advice. But when he started talking with a deep Scottish accent, I couldn’t help singing that 80s song « I would walk foive hondrrred moyles ». It became our running joke and gave me energy for the evening ride across the Tauern massif. At 10PM many TCR riders were still going. In Trieben I met a very focused Hakan Höglin and in Admont I saw the eternal Cycling Bros (Guillermo NM & Daniel Nicolás Muñoz) quietly resting in front of the church. I was hoping to catch Loïc Nys Taymans overnight so I pushed on to Weyer, resisting to every «Zimmer» sign along the way. Then came the strange moment where I had to lay down in a public space and switch into sleep mode.

256km990 – 11h32 – 22,3km/h – 2901m up

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NEXT DAY >

#tcrno6 #tcrno6cap54 #ultracycling #cycling #nature #transcontinental #alps#mountain #mountains #mountainlife #insearchofup #slovenia #austria #villach#klagenfurt #cyclinglife #cyclingshots #travel #travelphotography #instadaily#dailygram #wanderlust

TCR DAY 10 – Hot days, long nights: when routine takes over.

The city of Brno came to life in the morning sun. Market squares and shopping streets. I left Brno following a busy road where I met Matthieu Lifschitz again. We talked for a few minutes, then got funnily separated by our GPS tracks. He went right, I went left. The Slovakian border was not far now. I entered my 12th country and got scared by the heavy and dangerous traffic on national road number 2. Trucks passed me very closely and there was no shoulder to escape. After 5km of near misses, I decided to leave Slovakia and reroute through nearby Austria. But hunger brought me back to the main road that became safer as I approached Bratislava. The Slovakian capital looked like a pleasant place and reminded me of Liège. I met Andrea Polo who needed to stop for a meal.

Like every day lately, my daylight kms were insufficient because of the constant head winds and scorching heat. I started my daily routine: booked a hotel 80km away, and shifted into night mode. The Hungarian border was soon crossed and I discovered a tidy and well organised rural country. The first bike paths were excellent, until I crossed my first bike restriction sign. Luckily the alternative was easy to find. Against my likes, I followed the Danube to Györ in complete darkness. The nature smelled nice. After three hours of night riding I was happy to plunge into the light of Györ. Generously lit bridges and buildings welcomed me home. At Hotel Baross, I drank a beer with three German engineers traveling for work.

227km990 – 09h59 – 22,8km/h – 483m up

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NEXT DAY >

#tcrno6 #tcrno6cap54 #transcontinental #ultracycling #wanderlust #roadslikethese #fromwhereiride #cycling #cyclinglife#cyclingshots #cyclingphotos #travel #nature #travelphoto#naturephotography #hungary #slovakia #bratislava #brno #magyarország #győr