{"id":32965,"date":"2023-07-27T05:41:59","date_gmt":"2023-07-27T05:41:59","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/hopcycling.pl\/?p=32965"},"modified":"2024-12-06T11:09:44","modified_gmt":"2024-12-06T11:09:44","slug":"pol-poland-gravel-race","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/hopcycling.pl\/en\/pol-poland-gravel-race\/","title":{"rendered":"half PGR and tits"},"content":{"rendered":"
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Ah shit, here we go again<\/em> \u2013 one would like to say. I have the impression that some bicycle trips are like an electric shepherd. You stand and look at him - he has already caressed you many times. It's not particularly pleasant or smart. And yet, the moment your buddy says "hey, let's grab him," you involuntarily grab him. Shepherd, not buddy. Electricity flows through your body, your hand smells like burnt hair, and you remember why last time you told yourself never again. A moment later you feel alive (unless this time the shepherd turned out to be a bit too strong).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

That's exactly what happened this time. When in 2021 I made a tour of the Poland Gravel Race route with the organizers for the first time, I was delighted - here is the entry: "Not Poland Gravel Race"<\/a>. I saw many places for the first time and even though I planned to return to many of them in the future, going this route again seemed pointless. A year later, I wrote an entryAbout two people who didn't drive and did<\/a>about an identical detour (extended to include roads that were not included in the race anyway, because no one likes shoeing<\/em>). Strategically, I even ended it with a note to myself not to push myself into it a third time because it's hard. And everything was going very well, because just a week ago, Micha\u0142 and I agreed that we would not repeat this adventure this year. Until the next day, when it turned out that we repeat, but only half.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And that's the heavier half. So full of terrain and driveways, which, although not particularly long, make up for it with their number and slope. In return, they do not offer such views as those closer to the Tatra Mountains. But it doesn't matter, because we are passing through areas that can be described in one word "remote<\/em>". In particular, it is reminded of the second day, when we pass the first open shop around 100 kilometers. The first, 170-kilometer day was much more generous in this regard, offering 3 of them. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I will not describe the same thing for the third time, this entry has a completely different purpose. Maciek from the future, if you're reading this in 2024, remember: you don't want to drive this anymore<\/strong>. And certainly not without a sensible form ... especially with two ultras, one of which generates 500W before it even starts pedaling. And the other is walking murder, as you can see in the picture. A face like Wojciech H. who will watch us cry on the driveways and then he will be happy. He is also the only one wearing tight pants. Micha\u0142 and I know that with this oppression, the Vietnamese want to kill us with Buerger's disease - with these oppressions.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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I don't know how the world does it, but it senses that you're planning to catch a train right after work on Friday. It feels the same way every beginning of the holiday. He then throws his forces that have been waiting in silence all week, but they accumulate into one big ball, which he throws right in your face. Right when you plan to lean back in your chair, stare at the ceiling and expect zero hour. This time is no different. Therefore, I leave for the weekend without such unnecessary things as e.g. any documents, pump or cash. On the other hand, it doesn't matter. People these days drive the entire PGR from scratch, so theoretically you could not take anything else trzepotk\u0105<\/em>.<\/p>\n<\/div><\/div>\n\n\n\n

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Woman:<\/strong> This is the last one"Woman<\/s>"hachapurka?
Adam<\/strong> (in my mind<\/em>): And some stupid shit behind me yells over my shoulder over my ear.
Woman:<\/strong> "Woman<\/s>"Hachapurka, is it the last one?
kiosk:<\/strong> Yes.
Adam<\/strong> (in my mind<\/em>): Well, I don't need it and I don't give a shit... (To the kiosk<\/em>). Maybe you'll give me this one"woman<\/s>"this hachapurka.
Woman:<\/strong> Oops, maybe you don't need it?
Adam:<\/strong> No why? I'd love to see it! (In my mind<\/em>): And I walk away cheerful, or maybe half-joyful...<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Yes, the long-awaited Georgian bakery at the train station in Krakow this time had the last 4 haczapuris. 4 does not divide into 3. Especially if everyone is able to eat a few. The memory of last year's belly after visiting her suggests that maybe it's for the better.<\/em> <\/p>\n<\/div><\/div>\n\n\n\n

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There are many skills in this whole bikepacking that can be cultivated and perfected over the years. Light packing, route planning, planning\u2026 but there is something that cannot be achieved despite enormous efforts. It's an unjustified fear of starvation. Where it comes from - I don't know, although I can guess. From Friday to Sunday evening, we stop in the shops 4 times - including once before the ride and once practically after. Observing our visit to \u017babka after leaving the train from Krak\u00f3w to Przemy\u015bl, we can honestly say that we are participants in the Race Around Poland race in the middle of the race. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The hardest fight is always in the morning. How much you can eat, how much you can excrete. It depends on how much will be carried in the belly and how much on the back. As the strongest Pole in the world said (because only such people can be modeled on this blog), Mr. Pudzianowski: "Sisi, I'll poop and I'll be fine<\/strong><\/em>„.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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The first day is not particularly easy. In the language of the weak: it is even very difficult. For most of the day, the Divines song plays in my head:

From this pain build yourself a palace,
Die in this palace
Feel that all the members of your body
They'll fall apart soon<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Because still, after all these years, I'm not sure if it's fun or why we're doing it. After all, in all these trips, one of the best moments is when you stop going.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The main problem with riding routes that you know by heart is that instead of enjoying the moment, you are already thinking about the next uphill climbs. And there is definitely no shortage of them, even though none of them exceed 300 meters in this part of the route.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Of course, there are some views, because it is the Bieszczady Mountains, but you know - compared to Grandeus, Wierchomla or \u017b\u0142obki, these are rather experiences for connoisseurs. Or simply for people who are old at heart, who prefer peace, quiet, greenery and no shops instead of a great WOW.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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In overcoming this route, we have already reached the highest level. A level that can be summed up with the quote: "focus, in 500 meters there will be our favorite tree." It is also a level that allows any started anecdote from the area to be finished by the other person. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

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The pathology reaches such a state that we do not consider potential stops for a moment that day, because we know immediately that there will be one longer. At the gas station, on the hundredth kilometer, where Sylwia and I used to hitch a ride, trying to return with the Bromptoms at night to Ustrzyki Dolne, which, as it turned out, are not right next to G\u00f3rne. From the perspective of the 16" wheels and the October night, Ustrzyki Dolne is like a horse to a cognac. This beautiful story is here: Bieszczady - two faces of the end of the world.<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

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I honestly admit, I don't know if it's possible to write something more about riding gravel through the forest up and down. Especially something that I haven't written on this blog yet. However, there must be some text, because the pictures themselves look a bit silly. After all, if the three of us were invited to some podcast after most trips, most of the dialogue would look like this:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

"I sleep, sleep, sleep at night.
"Me too, me too!"
- And in the day itself I'm walking<\/s> I'm going I'm walking<\/s> I'm going.
- Me and me!
And at night I sleep, sleep, sleep.
"Me too, me too!"
- And in the day itself I'm walking<\/s> I'm going I'm walking<\/s> I'm going.
- Me and me!
- Well, I eat breakfast, eat, eat.
- Yes? Yes?
- And in the store I buy, I buy.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

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We wouldn't be ourselves if we didn't keep the tradition of catching slippers on the route. I took care of it by carrying muck shoved into the tire from the boulevards of Warsaw, thanks to which I get an arrow of milk in my mouth every few hours. An uncomfortable situation insofar as, as a professional, I did not take a pump with me. Keeping my fingers crossed for Momum milk helped every time. However, I deeply believe that the pressure at the end of the trip was not optimal. As for Micha\u0142's inner tube, I will only say this: a visit to many strange places strongly justifies it, but I do not know if the Internet has seen the question "how to take the inner tube out of the removed tire".<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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One thing is for sure. While it is possible to gather myself together in Maciek and ride these hills without riding a bike first, bending down is getting harder every year and every time I get grounded I am reminded that I should start going to the gym again. If I read this in the future and still haven't started, let me know that Maciek from the past is not proud of me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

For sure, the back would hurt less if it wasn't for the "dangling like eggs and smoke in dachshunds" half-kilogram camera on the shoulder. Particularly in the field, the pain increases gradually but steadily. What's he for? I don't know, after all, I'll edit these photos later anyway, so that they look like they were taken with a camera for a hundred. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

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My definitely favorite place on the first part of the route is the bench by the Hulskie Nature Reserve and I must admit that we are getting better and better at chilling every year. Micha\u0142 drove up to the bench, sat on it, Krzysiek took a picture of him, I took a picture of Krzysiek and 20 seconds later we were on our way. A bird at the "chilling" point ... however awkward it sounds in the context of a men's trip.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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One would like to write that we drive through beautiful forests all the time, because it is probably so, but there is something disturbing along the entire route. Something thanks to which my vocabulary of swear words was expanded with the help of Krzysztof from phrases that I would not have invented myself. Even when he doesn't say them, I can see them in his eyes. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Because although I deeply believe that this is a cognitive error caused by the fact that we are moving along the main forest trails, I still do not trust people. The amount of heavy equipment, harvested trees and alternately run-down or motorway roads is impressive. Let's hurry to ride gravel\u2026<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

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On the plus side, however, for the first time in a long time we reach our destination when it is still light outside. 9.5 hours of "moving time" is sufficient - especially in the field. Then just a visit to Siekierezada, a shop and you can sleep ... that is, worry about how we will manage to eat everything we brought from the shop in the morning. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

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And of course we sleep in the only right place - where the most pampered Labrador in the world lives. Exactly opposite the Inn of the Shaggy Angel, which has a dog with wings in its logo. Are we tired. It's hard to say, although the best "person" for this would be a kettle in our accommodation, which did not want to boil the water. It is only when the water runs out after half an hour that we come to the conclusion that the whistle probably does not work. And if someone is outraged that I call the kettle a person, let them watch "The Brave Little Toaster" and accept my sympathy that he lost his childhood.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Coming back to the clipping: there's a lot of it. I feel sorry for anyone who will be driving the route in the rain.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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