Riding strongly is an important part of winning TCR, but just as important if not more so is being efficient in everything you do. There are really only a few things that are important, and if you can do them all quickly and nothing else then you will be well ahead of most people.
One key element is to sleep efficiently. That is, when you stop to sleep, sleep. When you wake up, get on the bike and start riding. The less time spent getting dressed, finding socks, eating leisurely breakfasts and enjoying the sunrise, the better. I had done badly at getting to sleep, and was also pretty bad this morning. There is a trade-off between sleeping enough to recover and minimising sleep to maximise ride time. I probably should have slept less here but the first day had been tough, and I ended up with over seven hours off the bike. I made a few bike adjustments before starting – after pulling it all apart to travel it is hard to get it back together exactly how it should be, even if you’ve marked everything. It is really only once you get on it and go for a good solid ride that you know if it is right or not. In this case it wasn’t quite right, but I had thought about what it needed while I slept so the adjustment was pretty easy. I had some food from the night before so at least once that was done I could jump on the bike and eat as I rode.
A couple of hours down the road and I was feeling hungry again as I rolled into a village with a market happening right then. I wandered through and looked for something good to eat as I went.
I confess that in my past I have been a bike-snob, and at times would have shuddered at the thought of attaching a basket to any bike I owned. One of the things I was doing differently this trip though was that I had made myself a basket for the front of the bike. Given that baskets on bikes so often seem to have flowers in them I figured I shouldn’t buck the trend, so I even had a flower to go with it. Can’t say I don’t embrace change…
The point of the basket (otherwise known as the boat, because that is what I based the shape on) though was to carry food in a way that made it easy to eat as I rode along, and at this market I managed to load it up with tomatoes, capsicums, and hot corn in a cup.
The morning passed and eventually I reached the end of the parcours. I had been catching glimpses of it on the skyline for hours, and eventually I emerged above the trees to open meadows with mobs of horses grazing on them to finally reach it. It was marked by another enormous communist era monument cast from concrete, this one depicting an arch guarded by strange angular soldiers. Whatever else you may think of the communist regime, they knew how to do an impressive monument.
By now it was after midday, and once again it was hot. Riders were gathered at the monument, using it as a natural place to stop and recover for a while before setting out again.
After a bit of recovery myself I set off again, this time down a long descent to get back to the plains that run through the middle of Bulgaria and would take me in to Sofia. Along these plains I met a number of riders, as our different strengths saw some making ground up the hills while others had an advantage downhill or on the flat. There were some roads that we had been warned about coming into Sofia, and I had a couple of route possibilities ready for use depending on traffic levels. If things had been going according to the (deliberately non-existent) plan I might have had to use one of those alternatives, but as it was I was riding into the city at a time when the roads were very quiet, and it was really quite a pleasant ride in. Even my primary route though was designed to keep me off main roads as much as possible, and included quite a few sections of bike path. One of these sections included an underpass with construction next to it, and the construction fence went out over the bike ramp meaning I had to take the stairs.
Travelling light is a good thing for events like this, but so is having the thing you need, so again there is a compromise and for every individual the final answer sits somewhere slightly different. My answer was probably more on the heavy side, but not so bad that the odd flight of stairs was a problem. Hoisting the bike onto my shoulder I proceeded down the stairs and had started up the other side when the bar end just ever so lightly brushed my thigh. It was like my head exploded. The pain was so sharp and intense that I dropped the bike and called out. I told myself that most of the Bulgarians around me wouldn’t have understood my english, but the truth is that they probably all understood that word.
Moving very gingerly I proceeded to the top and found a clear spot where I could stop and investigate. Rolling up the leg of my knicks revealed a complete ring of blisters circling my thigh where the elastic leg gripper had been. Sometimes on a ride like this things make sense, and sometimes they don’t. Regardless, it was pretty clear from here that I needed to keep that leg gripper off my leg, and that the other leg would probably be happier that way too, so the rest of the trip was completed with knicks rolled up!
Stopping for some food I could tell from the reactions that I was looking a bit odd, but the kebabs were good and I still had a long way to go so I didn’t let it worry me unduly.
The road out of Sofia was an example of fortuitous timing. Leaving town, it was very quiet, but I could see both lanes headed the other direction were jam-packed. It was still hot so I stopped for a quick ice-cream while making sure this was the way I wanted to be going, then headed on down the road.
Rolling towards Radomir I noticed that my lights were not really well aimed – the boat-basket was also acting as a light mount, and it seemed like my light was angled a bit high. Stopping to adjust it I was passed by a string of other riders, including Lloyd, a London-based Aussie who I had met at the start. Lloyd told me he was headed for the hotel he had booked, but I was keen to get several more hours in before stopping for the day. The idea of a hotel did appeal, but I figured there would be a lot near the border, which was where I was headed.
As it turns out, I was wrong. Although it is a reasonably sized border crossing it was lacking the plethora of hotels along the main roads that you usually find at an international border, and I wasn’t sufficiently motivated to go looking for one, so for the first time in my cycling experience I actually stopped in a bus shelter. These are regarded as premium sleeping places by many who race TCR, but I struggle to see why. The waterproof roof was nice as there was a bit of rain around, but sleeping on a hard bench in clear view of the road really doesn’t strike me as a good way to do it. Still, it sufficed for that night. Although I was still short of the border I had managed 345km with 4,443 vertical meters and again, it seemed OK.
Loving the detailed Basil