Dag Raška 1. 2. 2021

I'm going crazy at home. I've been locked up for months at a home office associated with distance teaching my son. In this I got Apidura bikepacking bags, designed for trail bikes and HT Qayron Spyro at the same time. Steel thoroughbred losil bike. I have to write and take pictures, but I wouldn't be allowed to live in the north of Bohemia and not have a place of residence of about 40 centimetres of snow, which even a fat bike finds hard to get through. I have to go. At least for one night. That's enough to make me happy and clear my mind.

I'm going crazy at home. I've been locked up for months at a home office associated with distance teaching my son. In this I got Apidura bikepacking bags, designed for trail bikes and HT Qayron Spyro at the same time. Steel thoroughbred losil bike. I have to write and take pictures, but I wouldn't be allowed to live in the north of Bohemia and not have a place of residence of about 40 centimetres of snow, which even a fat bike finds hard to get through. I have to go. At least for one night. That's enough to make me happy and clear my mind.
I plan and plan, but how can I plan when it’s snowing and snowing everywhere in the Republic? I reach out to my social media friends for a tip. I get so many tips that I can’t even look at maps to find out where things are. I know I have all of Saturday to make my trip, but I have to be home on Sunday mornings, and that narrows my search area considerably. Finally, the choice falls to the Polish Lowland, specifically Nymburk. I call Roman, who was one of the participants in our trip from Rome, with whom I have a great understanding and invite him on a trip. But Roman is working for the Socceroos now, and he’s pretty messed up about his time. You never know when he’s going to have to go fix the players’ hairstyles and cut them for a major league game. I’m kidding, she’s a physical therapist, but she has the same challenge as a major-league hairdresser or hairdresser. Coincidentally, Roman can go on the same date, and so it’s decided. Departure early Saturday morning and return Sunday morning.
I sit down at the Komoot and start planning my route. After an hour, I’ve got it all planned out and there’s nothing left to look forward to. On Tuesday, Roman calls and we’re told the football team has moved practice to 10 a.m. on Sunday. I can do that. We’ll have to get up at 6 a.m. and leave early. He says OK and so it’s all good. Now all we have to do is pray in some better weather.

Wednesday is suddenly warmer, and even the outlook weather forecast looks favorable. Therefore, all is as it should be.

It’s Saturday morning and nothing is as it should be. What was to come did not come, and what came came came at a different time than it was to come. It’s been pouring rain all morning on Liberec, the snow is disappearing before your eyes and the sky promises nothing positive. Still, I’m going to pick up Roman, we’re loading his bike, too, and we’re on our way to Nymburk. The closer we get to Nymburk, the worse the weather gets. We park at Roman’s relatives’ house and go hide in their house. We are consuming excellent strudel and the necessary coffee and waiting for the weather to improve.

By 11:00 the downpour subsides, so we hit the road so fast before the guy upstairs changes his mind and starts the shower again. We’re hitting the bike path on the right bank of the Elbe, following the direction of the river, looking forward to swallowing up the miles. Causeway error. There’s no mileage swallowing. In the run-up to the narrow, muddy, and occasionally icy trail that runs along the Elbe, we are buffeted by fierce headwinds, and suddenly after swallowing miles. In forty minutes, we’re only able to cover a mile and a half. Again, a fine drizzle is added. But that’s what it’s all about, bite and go. At the Mydlovarský Luh Nature Reserve, navigation unexpectedly takes us away from the river. Unfortunately, it leads us onto roads that are incredibly ruined by loggers. Suddenly we’re up to our knees in mud with nothing to do but push. It’s hard to find a place where you don’t hit the mud. Finally we get back to the banks of the Elbe after all and can continue on. It’s best on the sections by the cabins, where the road is all ice, but strangely both our wheels hold perfectly, and we can even get a higher speed in those sections.
We keep going, but there’s another problem at Felines, we overlook the pedestrian ban sign and the bicycle ban, and we end up on a construction site. It turns out to be the construction of a new walkway, and since the structure is secured by a high fence, we have no choice but to go back and look for a bypass. We go around the pond, whatever it is, and we find that the road leads to a ploughed field, and we really don’t want to go there. We look like clay figures as it is, clay everywhere. We have no choice but to take the road to Ostrá and continue to Lysé nad Labem. It’s mid-afternoon and so for a while we consider the possibility of continuing on as planned on Brandýs nad Labem. It can and it’s still blowing, we decide to cross the Bohumil Hrabal bridge and drive towards the site of tonight’s lodging, in Kersk. As soon as we cross the river, the rain stops and the wind dies down, the journey becomes even more exciting. Full of potholes, puddles, mud, ice, snow, all sorts of things. After a few miles of driving, we know we’re not going to make it to the finish line today in dry clothes. And I didn’t. It’s absolutely unrealistic to be able to avoid all the puddles, and so after a while I feel not only my knees getting wet, but my shoes getting wet. Well, the temperature starts to fall as evening approaches. By the time we get to Kersk, my toes are completely numb and my hands aren’t much better. Let’s agree to find a tourist shelter first and see what it’s like, so we don’t have to find another place to stay in the dark if it’s impossible to sleep. Which could be very interesting because we didn’t bring a tent or a tarp.
We’re finding a shelter, and it’s a great place to stay. Inside, dry, wide benches, and on the ground, four people sleep well and dry. But the moment we arrive, we are attacked by four cyclists who tell us firmly that this is their place and that they will not let us in. It’s a good thing they’re in the age bracket of about six and so it takes less than a minute for the cyclists to be pacified.
In a peaceful way. The children are waiting for their parents and they only want to hide from them, fortunately for us. After a while, their parents come, from whom I learn that she is an open-minded famous Hajenka and that would definitely be a sin not to stop there. But after coffee, that’s a must.

It’s about a mile to Hajenka. We meet four young cyclists again along the way. They’re not threatening us this time, they’re just shouting at us. There’s a really open dispensing window in Hájenka, so we order hot tea, bread with crisps, and have four fillings pumped into a pet bottle. The bread is excellent and the tea makes us warm a little. My hands are just fine, for that the toes on my right foot are still numb.

After the refreshments, we head back to the shelter. We prepare to sleep and welcome young cyclists again. They ask us where we live. We reply that we live on a bicycle, travel back and forth, bring the covers with us and sleep wherever we can. They stare at us in disbelief, and eventually one of them asks the question, where is our house? Well… there is a roof here, in the gazebo. They go to their parents and tell them cheerfully what we are. Perhaps their parents will forgive us.

 

Evening was coming, and with it the cold. Our feet are tucked into our sleeping bags, and my right leg is finally coming around. I don’t know if one sip of rum helped, but it certainly wasn’t the icy felt. After dinner, we chat, drink beer and look forward to sleep. At eight we are in our sleeping bags, and after a short while we sleep undisturbed.

The night passed in perfect order, except that my bladder distinguished itself after drinking beer, forcing me to crawl out of the warm bunk three times. Next time I’ll just slurp the rum.

We get up before 5:00 because Roman has to be in Liberec early for work and so there’s not much time. Quick tea, Roman mysteriously pulls out two pies for breakfast, wraps them up, and in the thick fog, we begin our return journey. I’m wearing all my dry clothes, because in the morning I was getting really cold, and so I bathe in my own sweat mercilessly for a few miles. Roman’s the same way. Only the hands and feet are still freezing. In weather like this, shoes just don’t dry overnight.

We’re at the car, quickly loading muddy bikes, changing into dry clothes and shoes, saying goodbye to our family, and hurrying to Liberec.

I’m telling Roman in the Liberals, and he’s begging me to get back to him when I’m planning something, but not until March at the earliest. I don’t know what he didn’t like. I mean, it’s been a really nice trip, and I don’t mind thawing under a blanket at home until the end of the day. That clear head was worth the trip.

Distance
60 km

Total ascent
70 m

Difficulty
1 from 5

Days
2 days

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  • 60 km
  • 70 m
  • 1 from 5
  • 2 days

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