From the dark river Elbe to the shining Ještěd mountain. From the lowest point of the country to a thousand meters highmountain. Dawn and dusk in a friendly atmosphere on a race full of unforgettable experiences. All this and much more on the route of the extreme triathlon.
10/2024
I've heard a lot about the atmosphere of this event, so I wanted to experience it on my own. "But what would I, a frozen one, do at a race that even has 'winter' in its name?"
October weather can be quite changeable, and the average temperature of the Elbe hovers around thirteen degrees. What makes Winterman unique is the night swimming in the flowing river. To cover the ironman distance of 3.8 km, you have to move nearly nine kilometers on the map. The strong current takes care of the rest. This is followed by a hilly bike ride through the beautiful nature of the Czech Switzerland and Šluknov regions, culminating in a marathon ending on the top of Ještěd mountain.
Exactly three days after successfully finishing the Krušnoman triatlon, David (thank you for supporting) mentions that there are only six spots left for this winter fun. I can't miss this opportunity. Before the euphoria fades away, my name is already on the list. There are six weeks left until the next race, one guided four-day trip in Livigno and a two-week bike trip to the Pyrenees. So there will be no shortage of cycling.
After returning from warmer countries, I test various combinations of wetsuits in the muddy Vltava, which has been flooded during my travel time.
And running? … Well, that’s the tirtd discipline...
Preparations in Děčín
The race is on Sunday. On Friday, I’m still gathering what’s missing, so I end up with plenty of extra stuff I don't really need. On Saturday morning, we load all that to the car and head toward Děčín. Along the way, we stop at the Česká Hospoda guesthouse in Heřmanice, where we store David's e-bike. The hotelier is very accommodating; he already knows about this event. "On Sunday, people in weird outfits run around here in a hurry." We’ve already tested this accommodation as a very pleasant alternative to nearby Malevil, where the transition area is located.
Registration and the pre-race briefing, checking out the transition area, inspecting the swimming start at the harbor, moving around, and preparing and ...it’s late in the evening. We’ll be up in a few hours. Exactly at 2:30 AM. I need to put my bike to the transition area, pick up my chip, and have my race number written on my arm. Meanwhile, my support, David, prepares the gear for the transition area, including a jug of warm water wrapped in a towel. All of this is happening in the pouring rain.
The bus to the start leaves before five. Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately...), this year's swim is shortened due to the high water levels in the Elbe and the extreme current. Overall, we will swim 2.7 km, more than half of it in the still water of the Děčín harbor. The last kilometer will be drifted downstream.
Disko at the platform
A hundred competitors gather on the dock. Each has a cord around their waist with a whistle and a waterproof bag containing a chip and a red flashng light. The second flashing light is under our caps. The gathering of such figures is quite a psychedelic experience.
A few minutes before the start, we’re instructed to rinse off so we’re not sweaty when we jump into the Elbe. For this, there’s a fire hose attached to the railing and a pump with a loud motor. Pouring water into the wetsuit to warm it a bit before jumping into the eleven-degree water is more than recommended. The jump is a bit less shocking that way.
AC/DC plays from the speakers, and the speaker says something, but I can only hear the pump with my neoprene hood over my ears.
A new loud sound. What’s this noise? The flashing Teletubbies begin to fall into the water. Well, they’re actually jumping in voluntarily. Aha, that’s not the pump; it’s the START. It’s 5:45 AM. Gradually, it’s my turn.
I mean, I should want to, but... splash...
I find myself in the water and start swimming. The cold water slowly fills my ears. I navigate by following the others. The buoys are blinking green. With my head on the surface, splashing water everywhere, and dazzled by the other competitors, I can barely see anything.
I swim around the first buoy at the end of the harbor and then through the entire harbor into the flowing river. Buoys to my left, the bank to my right. Yesterday, with daylight and dry shoes, it was completely clear. I see a green buoy ahead of me. It’s quite far away. A few strokes, and I’m surprised to find I’m just a meter from it. Ufff. The course is secured by kayakers. One of them hits another competitor with a paddle to keep him from crashing into the buoy.
For the first half kilometer, someone keeps touching me, then the group starts to spread out. I realize that the annoying blinking reflecting in my goggles comes from my own head. Damn, I can’t escape it. In the murky water, I can’t even see the numbers on my watch. I should almost be on the river now...
Just stay to the right along the shore, because there’s a wooden pole jutting out on the other side. I’m swimming about four meters from it, and out of the corner of my eye, I see a kayaker preventint another competitor from hitting it.
I get into the current and gradually speed up. I have to duck under swim bridges and avoid a buoy under one of them, informally called the critical buoy. A few times I have to switch to a few strokes in the “lady” style to get some orientation. It’s dark, and with my head on the surface, this is a very unusual angle. The current mercilessly drags me towards the finish. The illuminated castle and bridge approach. Two boats are on my right, and behind them, torches. I swim close to the flooded bushes to be able to get out of the river. Two organizers are securing swimmers trying to stand up, standing in water up to their knees. They read our numbers on our arms and hand us over to our support teams. There’s a carpet stretched on the steep bank that slides significantly less than the surrounding mud.
Just don’t fall anywhere. David takes over and helps me out of all those wetsuits. The prepared warm water surprisingly stays hot, so I’m almost scalded for a moment, which amuses me quite a bit. My balance system is waking up slowly.
From the river to the rain
How am I supposed to dry off in this rain? I'm changing into my cycling gear and heading for my bike. This means crossing a muddy meadow in bike shoes and making them completely covered.
I get on my bike. Somehow, I forgot to put water bottles in it. Mistake. But it doesn’t matter much. I have a small plastic bottle with breakfast drink in my pocket, and Hřensko is just a bit away, plus there's plenty of water in the air.
In my mandatory reflective straps, I ride like a lady on her way to the morning shift at the factory. The only traffic on the road from Děčín to Hřensko consists of competitors and their support vehicles. The drivers, though rushed and tired from taking care of their racers, pass very considerately. The exception is one Italian woman who almost hits later.
We start with a thirteen-kilometer flat stretch. The whole time, I’m trying to shake the mud off my shoes. I finally manage to clip my right shoe in at the eighth kilometer. David and Vít are waiting for me in Hřensko. I hand over my soaking wet insulation jacket that helped me recover from the swimming part, grab a drink, and set off for the first climb. Next is the "no support zone." There are two sections on the route where support vehicles are not allowed to stop and help the racers due to the narrow road. Both share beautiful nature and tricky turns. Everywhere else, there’s a strict rule to stop with all four wheels off the road. There are plenty of options if you have a good driver. :-)
The next meeting can be in Jetřichovice. In this rain, I don’t sweat much, so I still have enough water, but swapping my drink for a warmer one always makes me happy. During yesterday's briefing, we were warned about several sections of roadworks. We enter the first one. The road is rough and dirty. I somehow expected it to be shorter. For over three kilometers, we’re rattling our teeth on the muddy surface, complaining along with those who happen to pass by.
The forecast promised the rain would stop early in the morning. It’s starting to look promising. David reports that there are no clouds on the radar anymore. Great, so once the road dries a bit, I’ll change into something dry. On to the next stop. Before I reach the agreed location, a new shower comes. This repeats about three more times until we reach the second no support zone between Česká Kamenice and Krásný Buk. This stretch could have been a lovely scenic ride...
A favorite spot for photographers and unfortunately also for rescuers is the beginning of the descent before Dolní Chřibská. A sharp turn that you can't see around, wet road, and fallen leaves can be tricky. Right next to the caution sign, one of the rescuers gestures for us to slow down. Luckily, everyone manages to get through unscathed this year.
In Krásný Buk, Vít joins David again. In the meanwhile he dropped his car off at the T2 and taken the section on his bike. I have a fifty-kilometer loop through the Šluknov area ahead of me. The boys take the car, planning to meet me at Vlčí hora. I pass by the Nobilis café and see an empty car in the parking lot. "Of course, they went for coffee." I ride on, and maybe it's good we missed each other. At least I don't have to look bad at the guys because I'm starting to feel pretty sick. For the last few kilometers, I've been getting cramps in my stomach. From what? I suspect the water from the Elbe. Later, when I find out I wasn’t the only one (and some were even worse), I definitely blame it. The hygienist wouldn’t be happy seeing us in that swimming part.
The guys catch up with me in the next village, and David hands me a small bottle: “Drink it quickly.” I almost spit it out. A double café latte is a bit of a shock, but in the end, it makes me quite well. The struggle with half a bread is nearly endless. The easiest digestible sugars are gummy bears, and sweet milk desert. Yes, the manufacturers of sport gels and other specialities are losing this time.
Scenic Autumn Ride
Finally, the rain stops. This time for real. The promised wind arrives, thankfully from the west. The sun even starts to shine, and we enjoy the beautiful colorful autumn day. Leaves are falling from the trees. One huge maple leaf sticks right on my glasses, just as I'm going downhill. A few meters of riding blind is a little spice to keep my attention.
In the village of Vilémov, we encounter more excavations. Cyclists somehow manage to navigate through the packed gravel and wooden bridge, while the support vehicles must take a detour. Dolní Postevna, Lobendava, it’s going quite well. The northernmost point of the route is only four kilometers from the northernmost point of the Czech Republic. Somewhere between them lies the northernmost "book hut," as I remember from the hiking Trail around Czechia. However, I won’t get to see it during the race. The route turns east through Šluknov and Rumburk. The loop through the northernmost part of Czechia closes, and my cramps slowly ease. Back to Krásný Buk. It’s no longer worth changing; I just grab dry socks.
Krásná Lípa is mainly known for the Falkenštejn brewery. For me, it’s just “turn right at the square,” and for the drivers, “quick, at least take a plastic bottle with you.” After Chřibská, the penultimate big climb begins. I catch up with a member of the Lithuanian relay, so I have someone to chat with for a while. Last year, one of them rode solo, and this year he wisely brought friends. Then he disappears from me in the descent (like everyone else), and we don’t see each other again.
The transition area is getting closer. After Česká Kamenice, we pass by the natural monument Pustý zámek. (I read that later, along with the fact that there’s a ruin of Fredevald up there.)
“Did you see that rock?”
“What rock?”
“You know, the horizontal organ pipes…”
My nature observations go unappreciated.
They don’t even notice the “mug tree” at one of the houses in Kytlice. I don’t know what they’re doing in that car that they don’t even enjoy the surroundings... but I’m not taking photos, so no one will believe me anyway.
Somehow, the bike part flew by very quickly: Svor, the scarry kilometer on the main road, Cvikov, Mařenice, and... the transition area.
I arrive at T2. David is already waiting for me with a cup of hot soup, which he exchanges for my dirty bike. I like that kind of exchange. The depot isn’t my strong discipline. I quickly change into my running gear, but I’ll need to practice to reduce the time needed.
Just run to Ještěd...
I set off for the final marathon. Well, I run out of the golf area and wait for my legs to notice that a change has come. It takes a moment to adjust to the new movet, but then it feels great. The loop around the horse pastures and then to the road, and then back into the woods. On the third kilometer, the first viewpoint of Ještěd opens up. It looks terribly far away. Am I supposed to run there today?
The first third of the course is enjoyable for me. The paths and meadows, the view of the church in Jablonné v Podještědí, and a bit further, Ještěd peeking out. The trails are full of puddles, but running in this is quite manageable. I just hope David takes the asphalt on his bike. In the meantime, he has managed to store my bike in the depot and organize the cycling gear into a box named "mess" (without a serial number, but this is at least the second one with that name). Just like during the running part of Krušnoman, he is accompanying me on an electric bike. As I pass under the main road near the gas station in Jablonné, David is already clese squeezing batteries to catch up with me before Markvartice lake. The section around Zdislavina spring and Lemberk Castle is the most beautiful for me.
All afternoon it’s quite windy, but not cold. Before I finish telling all my swimming experiences to David, we make a good progress. After Janovice, a looooong stretch of asphalt begins. Almost all the way to the finish. Vít catches up with us in the car and occasionally fills David’s water bottle. My consumption corresponds to my stomach's state, so I don't eat much.
We pass a pub in Křižany, where, about a month ago, as part of a training, we managed to ride from the top of Ještěd without pedaling. Yes, it’s possible to get here without pedaling with a passenger on the frame tube. The sum of our weights doesn't exceed the weight of the previous owner of the e-bike, so it's quite safe:-). When I remember that, suddenly the uphill that awaits me seems like a walk in the park. It doesn't even seem that far anymore.
From five o'clock, lights are mandatory. Besides the reflective straps I’ve gotten used to, I also have to add a headlamp and a flashing devil bracelet. The winner already reached the finish line. The first few competitors managed to finish while it was still light, this year even in record time.
From the checkpoint at 32 km in Janův Důl, I continue alone. Cycling support is not allowed any more. David gets into Vít's car. We’ll see each other at Výpřež. I set off slowly up the dark road. The climb isn't steep, and it's quite easy to run. I overtake one pair and then a few more. Everyone is kind of in their own head. About halfway up, the guys are waiting for me, and David hands me ginger tea. That’s a very nice bonus.
It's completely dark now and pretty windy. Fortunately, the road is almost traffic-free. I find it easier to run uphill than on flat. Occasionally, I catch glimpses of the summit through the trees. An UFO approaches; it's just a little bit further. I meet the guys again at Výpřež, where I take an extra layer. On the way, I enjoy the views of Liberec city lights.
The final kilometer, called “the stones,” must be run with a support. David comes to meet me from the Ještěd parking lot in a yellow support shirt.
We take a quick photo (thanks to Vít) and head up together. The steep ascent right under the (currently absent) cables is a nice cherry on top of the whole journey, which began this morning at an altitude of 120 meters. The metal structures around the lookout tower whistle in the wind. It's a shame there's no time to enjoy the view. Besides the fact that it’s quite chilly, we have to run to the finish. First carefully over the rocks, then on asphalt, and into the illuminated arch. David and I cross the finish line together a minute after eight, with a time of 14:16 from the start.
We weren’t expected, as my chip stopped somewhere in the valley. Fortunately, no one asks for my ID, and I can rejoice in fourth place. And I really do celebrate, even the fourth because I’m a newcomer in such a race, and I’m very glad I managed to finish. I rank 41st overall.
Finish line photo, finisher medal, and a hot soup. Up here, it’s dark, cold, and windy. We get into the car and head to Malevil so the guys can make it to dinner. Looking at the glasses of perfectly cooled beer they deserved, I sip a hot ginger tea.
The award ceremony will be in the morning after breakfast and in the sunshine.
Lastly (and certainly not least), a big thanks to David and Vít. Without their support this wouldn’t have been possible. With such support, it’s just easy to ride :)
And what’s next?
…I’ll speed up the transition, learn to ride downhill …and then I look forward to being at the start again :)
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