The Transcontinental Race, or
TCR, is (or is supposed to be) a race across Europe, where cyclists must go
through three to four control points along the way, but are left free of their
route between the check points. The first two editions started from London and
finished in Istanbul, then the start was moved to Grammont (Geraardsbergen) in
Belgium, and this year, for the first time, the arrival was not in Turkey, but
at the Meteora monasteries, in Greece. The check points included Lichtenstein
Castle in Germany, Monte Grappa in Italy, Hotel Sliezky Dom in Slovakia and
Pasul Balea in Romania. So with the start and arrival, there were 5 BIG out of 6
control points!
When this race appeared some
years ago, my first feeling was that it was completely stupid, to cross Europe
on highways as fast as possible, instead of visiting beautiful places on the
quietest possible roads. Well, as years passed by, this race grew in importance
and renown, at least in the little world of long-distance cyclists, and finally,
having a bit forgotten my first opinion and letting me influenced by all the
hype about this race, I registered for the 2017 edition.
The most difficult part of the
race, once the check points are known, is to build a route, trying to find a
compromise between a fast and a secure itinerary. I started this job seriously,
building a first stage that turned out quite satisfactory on the ground, but
after a while my natural laziness made me postpone a little the rest of the
work. Suddenly, in the last day of March, came the brutal news that Mike Hall,
the emblematic organizer of this race, had been killed in Australia, while
riding a race similar to TCR. This terrible event appeared immediately as to
provoke a cancelling of the TCR, and in fact we were left for months without notice.
As I said, my feelings about the race were mitigated, I wasn’t not sure
anymore, after my application had been selected, to still want to be on the
start line, so I left things go, taking the assumption that the race would finally
not take place.
So when the race was confirmed,
less than a month before the start, I had to quickly finish my route, and
building a route on the scale of a continent is a big task, as one can imagine.
As a result many parts of my itinerary were made in a hurry, especially in the
easternmost countries, and that worried me more and more, as the departure date
approached.
Anyway I was in Grammont the day
of the start. I went through registration procedures, bike check, riders
briefing and so on. After the briefing, I had a nice meal in a Grammont
restaurant with Maxime that I knew from the tour de l’Aude the year before, and
Erwann, another rider. I spent the time remaining unpacking, re-packing and
re-re-packing all my stuff, before we were finally sent away at 10 pm. We
started by a little loop in the streets of Grammont, finishing by the famous
Muur. At the top of the Muur was the real start of the race, where we were left
on our own, free of our itinerary, night and day stops, etc.

The first night in Belgium was
nice and quiet, a bit hillier in the end than I had expected. I went briefly
through France in Givet then reentered Belgium. In the very morning I broke a
spoke and had to ride 80 km before I could have it fixed in Luxembourg. Leaving
Luxembourg for Germany, I
rode
along the Sarre, on a very nice cycle lane. I entered France again in
Sarreguemines and went through very nice landscapes between this town and
Haguenau. I crossed the Rhine and the French-German border in the beginning of
the night and had just after my first night stop.
For my night stops, I had what
is called a bivy bag, which is something like a big sleeping bag, but made with
tent material. Therefore it is proof to rain, but very light and can be easily
carried on a bike as there are no mats and pegs. I’ve never used much this gear
since I bought it, but during TCR I found out it was really convenient:
whenever I felt sleepy, I just had to find some place a bit hidden from the
road and take out my bag to be at home.
The Sunday morning I began my
first long climb, as I had to cross Black Forest. I arrived by noon at the
first control point, Lichtenstein Castle, a nice little castle which overlooks
the valley below. After the check point, I continued my way, which was to go
through Germany, Austria and Italy, to the second control in Monte Grappa. I then
experienced for the first time the riding along highways, as I rode towards
Ravensburg and Bodensee. It was a very uncomfortable moment, but more were to
come. I reached Bodensee and Austria by night and stopped for sleeping just
before a storm, below a footbridge by the railway.
I spent very little time on the
Austrian part of my route as it appeared obvious to me on the map. It seemed to
go directly from Bregenz to Landeck where I had to turn south towards Italy. I
just didn’t realize that there was a mountain range in the middle and that I
had to pass over the Arlberg pass! So the climb after Bludenz appeared to me
quite hard for what I had expected to be a gentle valley climb up to Landeck.
And worst of all, I found out in Klosterle that due to works in the road
tunnel, all the traffic was diverted to the road that I was supposed to take,
and therefore it had been forbidden to bikes. It was an uninterrupted passing
of cars and lorries, so it appeared impossible to me to continue on that road.

At first no alternate other
than a detour of hundreds of kilometers appeared to me, then I saw that a
nearly parallel pass existed a little south of where I was, and what’s more it
was a BIG, Bielerhöhe! Paradoxically, this detour made me happy. I knew it
would allow me to climb a BIG in a new country, Austria, and it delivered me
also to the last concerns about the TCR classification I may have had by the
time. Furthermore, as I was cycling among the switchbacks of the Silvretta, it
reinforced my conviction that the cycling I like is climbing mountain passes in
beautiful sceneries.
I was finally in Landeck where
I started the climb to Reschen Pass (this one I knew it was there). I was by
Reschensee at night, so I saw the famous campanile illuminated above the water.
The following day I went down the Adige valley. I felt rather stupid to ride
all the way on the monotonous cycle path in an intense heat while beautiful
climbs expected me on each side of the valley.
As I was getting closer to
Monte Grappa, I felt a bit worried about it, as I knew it was a long and steep
climb. I had been riding day and night for four days now, I felt of course tired,
and my bike was loaded with all my travel equipment. I felt that my 25-teeth
cassette would be hard to carry up to Monte Grappa, so I was considering buying
a larger one. I was lucky to find a 30-teeth one in Levico Terme, after having
cycled along the nice Lago di Caldonazzo, and I sent the other one back home.
The second control in Semonzo,
at the foot of Monte Grappa, was very long to arrive as it was the end of the
day. It was located in a camping where I had a good meal, was able to wash my
clothes and to sleep a little. The morning after I climbed Monte Grappa under a
beautiful sun and was happy with my new cassette. After some severe ups and downs
(and a little ride on a wrong road) I was back in the plain at Pederobba.
The following days I crossed the
plains, riding along corn fields in Italy, Slovenia and Hungaria under an intense
heat wave. The temperatures were around 40° all the time. I drank my two
bottles in no time, so stopped very often in bars to fill, drink sparkling
water, eat ice creams … After entering Slovenia, I had a long climb where I
could have had good views above the valley below but was there at night. Leaving
Ljubljana I struggled to find a cycling path to Domzale as my route was
directed towards a highway forbidden to bikes. After Slovenska Bistrica I had
to divert my route as I found myself again on a road where bikes were banned.
I entered Slovakia in Komarno.
I rode on a highway, but with reasonable traffic and a large shoulder. But just
after a crossing, traffic increased brutally while the shoulder disappeared. I
couldn’t stand the traffic as lorries were passing me by so close, so I tried
to find other roads. I took some little roads, which turned out to be very
hilly and steep. I came back to my planned route hoping that road 66 would be
better, but it was the same, so I diverted again as soon as I could.

I was then on a quiet road, but
lightning in the distance began to worry me. It was late night so I started to
look around for a shelter. I was then happy to find a 4-star hotel in the
changing room of the Senohrad football ground. The day after was nice as I rode
on normal roads and climbed my first ever Slovakian BIGs. First I went over
non-BIG passes, TistyJavor and Pohansko, then I reached BIG Sedlo Čertovica, in
the Lower Tatras, as I had to cross this mountain range to get to the third
control point in hotel Slieszky Dom, another BIG.
As I said, I had bad times on
Slovakian main roads, praying that it would overtake me far enough each time I
heard a lorry coming from behind. At the check point, two things made this
unease grow. First I learned that a rider had been killed in Belgium at the
beginning of the race, and then we were told that the A1 road in Romania had
been judged so insecure by the first racers that it had been banned
subsequently by the organizers, and I had to build a new route on the fly from
a map that was there at the control point. So, when I left Slieszky Dom, I felt
very uncomfortable
about the rest of the trip. I knew that my route included a road forbidden to
bikes in Hungaria, as it was the only way to cross a river hundred kilometers
around, and the A1 incident made me worry about what I would find later in
Romanian roads and further.

During the following hours, my
unease didn’t decrease, I couldn’t stand no more highways and began
considering quitting the race each time I found myself on a busy stretch of
road. I went nevertheless through nice places during this time, like Dedinky Lake
in Slovakia, but when I found myself again in the Hungarian plain, I was ready
to give up. Furthermore, the mythical dimension of the crossing of a continent
of the TCR that had driven me since the start was beginning to fade away. I had
already ridden 2500 km, 1500 km were left so less than some of the randonnées I
did in the past. Continuing now appeared to me more and more as pedaling
stupidly on and on along highways during a few days more.
So when my route went near a
train station, Sajószentpéter-Piactér, I decided on a sudden impulse to stop my
ride and turn back home with the train. It was a very little halt with no more
than a platform along the rails. As I was getting to the station, a train
arrived, but it was gone before I could get to it. Before I could decide what
to think about that, another train arrived in the opposite direction and I
jumped in it not knowing at all where it would take me. It happened that this
train was going to Miskolc (the first one would have taken me back to Slovakia)
where I was able to take a train to Budapest.
In Budapest my troubles were
not over. The trains that would take me back home were all full for bike
transportation and I didn’t know at all which alternate solution I could take.
At the same time, for the first time of my trip, the weather was awful with a
continual rain that I really didn’t have the courage to face on my bike, now
that I had taken my decision to stop. As it was getting late, I decided to go
to sleep and see the day after. But all the hotels around the station were
completely full. Finally the 6th or 7th I tried had a
room for me, phew!

After a good shower, I looked
at my situation and decided that a solution would be to go by train to Sopron,
close to the Austrian border and ride to Wiener-Neustadt to reach the Austrian
rail network. So in the morning I went, still under the rain, to Budapest-Déli
station. In Sopron I had a little ride under a sun happily returned, and in
Wiener-Neustadt I could take a ticket to Milano, changing in Venezia and
Verona. After Milano I couldn’t go further than Albenga that I reached by
midnight. I had plenty of sleep in the trains all day long so I was able to continue
to Nice by bike during the night, where I arrived at 5 am.
Despite the fact I decided not
to continue to the end, I keep good memories of my TCR. I enjoyed being on my
bike all the time, travelling on permanently changing countries and
landscapes. When I try to think rationally, I come back to my initial opinion
that riding like that along highways, with no other motivation than arriving,
is no fun, but at the back of my head I still know that the initial goal has
not been fulfilled, so I can’t help but thinking “But what if I prepare my
route in a better way?”.