Almost Rapha almost Festive almost 500

The thing about the whole Festive 500 is that in most* minds it's just a memory in the style of "once upon a time there was...". Although maybe it should be said more like "once upon a time I was...".

*not mostly – that's my boomer perception of the world

The idea of cycling 500km between Christmas Eve and New Year's Eve in 2010 probably seemed much more abstract than it does today. I found the first mentions on my blog about the completed Festive 500 in 2014: Christmas with Festive 500. I started it with a beautiful quote: "Oh mother tell your children Not to do what I have done", so it was definitely really cool. I did it a year later and it was definitely just as cool. And in next year too. To give you some perspective, in 2014, 29 Poles completed the challenge. This is probably because Strava wasn't as popular back then - the pinnacle of technology was the Garmin 500, which we connected to our computer with a mini USB cable. That's not bad, because I used to carry a small, black box in my trouser leg that was a GPS logger.

Indeed, 10 years ago our cycling looked different. Looking at the photos of us riding cross-country with Kacper through the Slovak Tatras, on ice, in clothes from Aliexpress, in the dark, with position lights, all I can think is: "What idiots. But that was cool. Never again". Those were the times when there was snow in December... or at least slush. When bike brakes were used to warm up your fingers by pressing them intensively. Cantilever brakes had this thing about them that in good conditions they slowed you down, and in bad conditions they did nothing but resist. Maybe that's for the best, because why brake on ice? The fact that we didn't necessarily fit tires wider than 33mm didn't help with winter riding either. It used to be, but now it's not. I was sure then that if I didn't change my hobby I would never meet a girl.

I missed the moment when the challenge included a contest for the best story related to covering those 500 kilometers. We live in a time when everything has already been done and I don't know what might be interesting for the recipient. This is probably why the blog is slowly dying. I suspect that even riding the whole thing at once, on a unicycle, wouldn't have had a huge impact. I'm writing these words on January 12th - there's a snowstorm outside, and 4 brave people are riding their bikes from Hel to Głodówka as part of the Great Orchestra of Christmas Charity...

And so, several wars and pandemics later, 2023 came. I thought – "yes, yes, this is the moment. My ego is so fucking bloated right now. A situation where I'm the center of attention like a tourist attraction!. If not now, then when? I'll finally do the material! Only the 500 bike ride didn't really fit into my plan. I haven't been on a bike with big wheels since August.

Day 1: Christmas Eve.

Christmas Eve falls on a Sunday, so you have all day to log some miles.

In the morning (around 10:00) I am woken up by Racuch's gaze. In his eyes I see the sentence: "you should be riding a bike by now, and in the meantime I haven't peed yet":
(this is of course not true, over the last 3 years this dog has probably never once wanted to wake up and go out of his own free will)

Here, about 2 hours later, in the middle of nowhere, Racuch's face changes to: "I wish you good luck and lots of fun with this bike.„.

We return from our walk around noon. By the time we manage to eat breakfast, thaw out, watch something on Netflix and scroll through Instagram for a while, it's 2 p.m. I calculate in my head - by the time I get dressed, get out, and hit a road that's drivable, it'll be 30 minutes until dusk. Here I'd like to tell you what a large part of Męcikał looks like in the dark. The cat's eyes are the streetlights:

Day 2: Christmas.

The day promises to be perfect. According to local legends, the end of the rainbow does not indicate a pot of gold, but the birthplace of Jesus. The problem is that the rainbow on this day has two ends. So before we can verify this false theory, it is noon again. Never mind, I decide to go out…

The only problem is that it blows mercilessly. It blows so much that it breaks high-voltage lines in the area and nearby towns are left without power. No power in our house also means no heating, no hot water, no light and a few other unforeseen problems. For example, when the fireplace with a water jacket is lit, the water in the system starts to boil (because it does not circulate). The vision of returning to the house without the possibility of washing and warming up is not a good one. I have too little followers, to go winter swimming. The light returns when it is already dark outside.

Day 3: That day off after Christmas

This is the day! This is the moment! The sun's rays are warming our faces, warming the dog, the lakes are blue, the trees are green. It's wonderful and perfect, like in the photos that could present the Kashubian Rapha 500 in Rouleur magazine. Rich Britons will read this and want to visit Męcikał. The city will grow, they will build us a parcel machine, and maybe even a shop open in the evening!

It's just a shame that all of this isn't true, because even when the sun shines here, it still rains. How is that possible, you ask? I don't know. The weather changes faster here. Several downpours can occur within an hour, and in between there's an almost cloudless sky. Driving in a downpour is not pleasant, so this day turns out to be a bad day.

The only attraction left for us is Netflix and an evening walk with our tracking dog, who still doesn't believe that we pass dozens of cats every day.

Day 4: That day off after the day off after Christmas

I don't know how it happened, but I have Wednesday off. That's good, more days to cover kilometers. The only problem is that the day before I listened to some audiobook about animals and not fully aware of what I was doing - I go out in the morning with my camera to the area. The area hasn't really grown back after the storms in the last few years, which makes it exceptionally easy to spot animals from a distance.

The only problem is the game itself – it always shows up exactly when it shouldn’t. When we’re driving, when we’re walking the dog, heck – judging by the tracks, it even walks along our fence. So it’s not hard to guess that I usually come back from hours-long walks with at most a photo of a woodpecker or a titmouse. That day I only come back with a shot of hairy butts. However, I have a theory that if I opposed the art of taking such photos and posted them on the wlochatedupki.pl domain, I would gain glory and splendor. Maybe someday… 

Luckily, it doesn't really annoy me. The best thing about walking and taking pictures of animals is walking, searching, and listening. After all, every animal that appears here has been photographed about a million times, and certainly much better than I can do. So the only thing I bring, apart from the deer, is a woodpecker (there are loads of them and I can only name it, apart from the tits):

And one of dozens of migratory flights of birds (looking like geese) passing me by. This is disturbing, because I always thought such flights flew in the fall. This means that either I am living in error or they are – for my own peace of mind I decide that I am the ignorant one.

We spend the rest of the day in front of computers. In Sylwia's case, it's not just the "rest of the day," but also the entire time preceding that rest. Luckily, Jesus is watching over her the whole time, jumping on a bubble. In my case, sitting is also a bit excessive, because I suffer more than I sit - it turns out that my computer arms are not used to lifting weights (like a one-kilogram camera) for hours on end.
Here I would like to remind you that travel educates and electric blankets discovered in Korea are the best invention in the world. Period.

Day 5: Little Friday.

Michael is buried in the garden with the honors due him. Unlike the members and pieces due to him, which will probably have to be "preserved" as soon as we find them. That day we begin a close observation of the excrement appearing behind the Racuch.

In the evening we go to the nearest town with a parcel locker – Brus, to check if a new one has been selected. the pope Jordana. Yes, many were chosen.

Day 6: Big Friday.

Friday is all day, so for the reasons described above, it's not really possible to go for a ride. It doesn't matter, there are still two days left. Of course, you could wake up a little earlier, ride a little faster, be a better version of yourself, but anyone who has been to Męcikała knows that it's not possible. The greatest feat there is to wake up in time to get to work by 9:00, even if you have 25 seconds to get there, changing your pants on the way. Another, slightly smaller, but equally big, feat is not falling asleep right after turning on the computer, and if you do fall asleep, wake up before 12:00. True story - I can't say which of our guests.

So that the day is not considered a lost day for humanity, we indulge in the ancient art of tinkering in the cell. It sounds a bit like biotechnology, but by cell, I mean a room.

Day 7: Penultimate chance.

The only attraction is an afternoon walk to check the condition of the Brda. As a person who is well-read in literature describing nature, I can clearly state: the Brda is in the same place as usual. I also realize that we have been here for a week and during 3 walks a day we have not passed a single person. Not one.

Day 8: Last Chance Day.

Perhaps I would have gone out for a bike ride that day, the only problem is that, as it turned out, I didn’t take it with me to Męcikał.

We devote the morning to installing a birdhouse. As for the Festive 500 itself and achieving the desired result, let the following story about a dachshund sum up my efforts:

So we spend the rest of the day watching birds through binoculars. And that's where this entry should end. Here I should get a prize for the shortest possible distance to cycle during the Festive 500. I'm afraid that won't be enough to win anything.

I admit that I wanted to play a joke (probably funny only to me) and drive 500 meters. That's why I write 500 without a unit everywhere above. You know what? Even that didn't work out...

Day 9: New year, new me

But something unexpected happens. On New Year's Day I wake up with the feeling that I would like to ride something.

The past year, probably a record year in terms of kilometers driven, made me miss driving. I have never had such a low mileage result teen latu. So I get on my folding bike and head out to the area, and whoever follows Instagram knows that the area can be impressive. After leaving the village (about a minute later) I reach the first hill above the lake:

A few hundred meters later I meet Sylwia and Racuch – they are eager to ride

At this point I would like to remind you that folding bikes are the best bikes in the world and one fine day I will create a Folding Camp in Męcikale. During the week we will go to the nearest shop and on weekends we will go on all-day trips to the nearest Biedronka.

We're having so much fun that another dog runs up to us from the forest. All we need is a second folding machine*. So I have something to do for my evening session with OLX.

*although according to some, a second dog

In this strange way, we both discover that we miss normal cycling, and this bodes well for the new season. Maybe even MTB season…?