From diary #2: A Slovak Lesson in Humility
A tale of a gazelle, a flat tire, and saved frankfurters
Polish version | Wersja polska 👇🏻
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April 30th, 2023. Day two of my cycling journey to the Balkans. Humenné, Slovakia.
The morning plan was simple - stuff myself with hotel breakfast to fuel the first 50 kilometres. A strategy tested by generations of cyclists. I executed it in a bold but decent way - I left one frankfurter on the warmer.
After checking out, my route led me... a few hundred meters away to a shopping mall. I stocked up on snacks and something for my aching leg. As I walked out with my shopping, rain greeted me. ‘Well, it’s almost May, so thank God it’s not snow’, I thought and headed to a gas station to get my morning caffeine fix. Soon after, I was back on the road.
With each kilometre, the city fell further behind. Deep in the countryside, no doubt about that, I noticed Slovak villages resembled Polish ones, with one difference - fewer billboards but definitely more Roma people.
I was steadily grinding through a landscape dotted with rapeseed when my Garmin notified me about the first climb on today’s menu. I decided it was a perfect opportunity to stop and make use of the roadside bushes. Standing among the leaves, I took in the surrounding world. That’s when I first saw HIM. He was gliding uphill with the grace of a gazelle - clearly a local, as given away by the characteristic ‘Slovenský Bryndzový Express’ inscription.
Slightly embarrassed, I made a futile escape attempt by quickly jumping on my bike. However, in no time, HE was already beside me. Lean but bursting with energy. He wore tight leggings and had this manic glint in his eyes. Still on our bikes, we exchanged a few words and playfully, faster than common sense would dictate, began the climb. Me - loaded with bags on my gravel bike, versus HIM - a cycling powerhouse. Or rather Rafał Majka versus Peter Sagan.
Unaware of consequences, I silently accepted this obvious challenge.
Minutes passed, the road kept rising mercilessly, and I pretended everything was OK for as long as I could. Though nothing was actually OK! My breathing sped up, heart hammering like a machine gun, sweat pouring off me like a broken gutter.
I was breaking down, but PRIDE wouldn’t let me admit it!
First climb done, followed by the first descent where I, with my disc brakes, was king. This minor victory gave me a moment to breathe and recover before the next - this time seven-kilometre climb.
Barely halfway through, my thighs were burning, and my heart rate chart resembled Bitcoin during the last bull run. Thoughts of resting or at least throwing up crossed my mind. ‘I’m suffering, but he must suffer too’, I thought and increased the pace even more.
And just then, when the fate of my breakfast frankfurters hung in the balance and my legs were begging for mercy, the pivotal moment arrived. HE got a flat.
‘Oh no! Not that!’ I said with fake concern, and we got down to changing the inner tube. The tube that saved me and the honour of all Polish cyclists.
That break was all I needed to make it to the summit. ‘Shall we ride up to that radio tower?’ asked Matusz, for that was HIS name, pointing to another peak. Damn Slovaks, they never give up. ‘Sorry, can’t do it. I’m on a tight schedule, heading to Kosovo and beyond’, I excused myself.
We exchanged Strava accounts, and our paths diverged at the next descent - he returned to his radio towers, I headed towards Košice.
The rest of the day wasn’t as exciting. I saw Košice - a city so beautiful that I stopped for lunch. Staring at the Old Town, I got another coffee and thought about the morning’s events. That day I had a brief romance with Hungary, crossed the border, rode along it for a while, and returned to Slovakia. Here the accommodation prices were more sexy.
PS. Dear cycling traveller! If you’re heading to Slovakia, I have a life tip for you: When you meet a local cyclist who suggests a ‘little uphill ride’ - don’t believe the ‘little’ part, better yet, run! Remember, they’re friendly, smiling, fast, and utterly merciless!
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Hi Tomasz, really enjoying your blog. It reminds me of when I went to Kosice but unfortunately no bicycle was involved in that trip. Keep going!