Ok, my plan now is to do much more detailed write-ups and post them over the coming weeks. The fundraising has been going really well – thanks to contributions from a whole lot of wonderful people I have passed my goal, but I’ll keep it open here just in case anyone still wants a chance donate. Forgive me if these write-ups are too long, i had a lot of time to think on the bike!
Race day! It started perfectly – but that only lasted about 5 minutes. Many years ago I worked in Bulgaria, and had a great guy working with me who taught me a lot. In particular, there is an ancient Bulgarian saying that has been passed down from generation to generation, that this guy shared with me. I followed it for quite a while, but the night before had chosen to ignore it. I’m not sure if that was the cause, but it meant that in the hours before the race any spare fluids I had were rapidly exiting my body. The saying was “Don’t eat the small meat, Rowan”.
Nevertheless, having travelled all the way to Burgas there wasn’t much to do but line up, which I did. The atmosphere was great with a few hundred people lining up, each feeling a mix of excitement, anticipation, and fear. Number One supporter was there to wave me off and after a few talks and obligatory pictures we were off.The first section through Burgas was escorted by police. This made for a nice ride, as we got a good amount of road to ourselves and didn’t have to worry too much about the traffic. It also took us quickly out of the city and onto the start Parcours (compulsory section).This was a tough Parcours. It quickly turned to dirt and gravel roads, and although it was beautiful it was also pretty tough on equipment. We were less than an hour into a 4,000+km race when I first noticed someone repairing a puncture – really not a great start!
The roads continued and actually got worse, with rocky descents claiming more casualties. I was riding my Fikas, which was custom made to my specifications by master craftsman Luke. Unfortunately my specifications had included room for 32mm tyres, and that is exactly what I got. For roads like these a lot more tyre with some more tread would have been better, but as it was I was running the new 32mm tubeless GP5000s, and they were doing the job. Meanwhile, the temperature was steadily climbing. Eventually we reached the end of the first Parcours, but it really didn’t make much difference. Checkpoint 1 was quite close to the start, and the Parcours for that checkpoint began only around 80km from the end of the starting Parcours. Since it was basically a straight line down a reasonably big road between the two pretty much everyone took the same route, so on this section you were never very far from other riders. And it was hot. At each petrol station or shop along the way there would be a cluster of riders eating ice-cream and trying to squeeze into any shade they could see.
Bikes lined up while riders eat ice-cream in the shade
Eventually we reached the town at the foot of the CP1 Parcours, which began with a climb. By this time I knew I was pretty badly dehydrated and had started to cramp badly, but was trying to stretch as I rode and manage the cramping. I was carrying a lot of water and forcing down as much of it as I could, and decided to continue past a service station with a line of bikes outside it. I had only gone about 100m when I was hit with savage cramps and had to stop beside the road until they passed. Looking back I could still see that service station but it was on the other side of the road, and I really didn’t want to go backwards, even if it was only 100m. Deciding that there must be another one coming up I pushed on, but when I reached that next one (thankfully only about 500m down the road) I was very glad to stop. Hobbling in I knew this was going to be a long stop. I bought a lot of drinks and told myself not to panic, then stood (sitting brought the threat of leg cramps) in the shade and slowly stretched and drank. This was a much smaller service station than the last one, and what I took to be the family running it were all sitting out the front, talking and smoking and looking slightly perplexed at the strange people on strange bikes who were riding by or occassionally stopping to buy an awful lot of drinks.
During the time I was stopped there fix or six other riders had come and gone, and eventually I decided I had better get on with it, so I got back on my bike.
As I said, this Parcours began with a climb. I knew it wasn’t going to be terribly steep but was going to be quite long, and given the cramps I had been dealing with I had no expectation of actually reaching the top without having to get off and walk. Still, it was clear already that this day was very much about survival rather than racing, so I just settled down into a very slow but steady climb, aiming to get as far as I could before the cramps forced me off. I had re-worked my gearing for this race to give myself a 1:1 lowest gear, and I went straight into that. To my surprise, my legs just kept turning over and although the threat was always there the cramps didn’t come back and eventually I reached the top of the climb. Bulgaria is full of amazing monuments from the communist era, and this Parcours took in two of them, beginning with this amazing structure.
Looking like some kind of spacecraft it was great to arrive at, as it presented an immediate waypoint – even if I got no further I had still made some progress through #TCRNo7. Of course, I did get further, after a couple of quick selfies I was back on the bike to get to the actual checkpoint, where I got my Brevet card stamped and after a few more selfies was on the way down the hill. I reached that checkpoint after 14 hours and 20 minutes – I was already about 6 hours behind the leaders, and feeling very dehydrated.
From the checkpoint the Parcours continued down a solid descent to reach the town of Gabrovo. I had deliberately not created a plan for this race – I knew from past experience that any plan I created was unlikely to last long, and going in with significantly worse form than I had hoped I figured it would just frustrate me. Still, the plan I didn’t have had me finishing the parcours on day one and then sleeping either somewhere on the roadside prior to Sofia or else in a hotel somewhere in Sofia. As I started scanning for a hotel on the road into Gabrovo I was very glad that I didn’t have that plan.
I couldn’t see a hotel, but what I did see was a dog. A couple was walking down the street with a dog trotting along about 20m behind them, and as I went past the dog turned and leapt after me. I heard the man calling after it, but the resignation in his voice made me think I’d best pedal rather than assuming the dog would go back to him!
Happily the dog didn’t seem to have much energy either and I left it behind after only about 100m. 200m after that I found out why, as another rider joined me and asked if I’d also been attacked by that savage dog! A good reminder of the value of sending someone in ahead to wear the dogs out before you get there…
We rode together and realised we were both looking for a hotel – it just seemed like a good idea at that time of night. He stopped at a food place to see if they had rooms, and I took the opportunity to ask google about hotels. Seemed like there was one coming up, so when he returned we both headed on down the road until we reached it. As we did so there was another rider carrying his bags out of a storage room, which looked promising in some respects but less so in others. Neither of us were keen to be far away from our bikes at that point. Propping my bike outside the door I went in to enquire in my best Bulgarian (I speak no bulgarian) about rooms, and it turned out that not only did that other rider speak both English and Bulgarian, but the girl on the desk also spoke English.
Seeing another rider approaching, I quickly asked how many rooms she had left – three after the guy who was checking in, was the answer. Great, I said, and relaxed. At that point the last rider to arrive stuck his head in the door and asked if he could take his bike into a room with him. The girl looked surprised and said yes he could, but they had plenty of other space so he didn’t have to. She looked slightly more surprised when the guy I arrived with and I immediately grabbed our bikes and brought them in.
Once I was in the room I had a shower and washed the gear I had been riding in (it was rigid with dried salt) and squeezed it as dry as I could in the towels provided. The next priority should have been sleep, but as it was I needed to stretch out the muscles that had been cramping all day, so some precious sleeping time was lost to that, but eventually I was in bed. I had managed 303km with 3,343 vertical meters, and although it wasn’t what I had deliberately not planned it was also not too bad. Tomorrow would be a new day.
YES! I love a good race report. Can’t wait for the rest!