A légpárnás hajóm tele van angolnákkal

According to my Hungarian phrasebook, this means 'My hovercraft is full of eels'. Today was a long day of driving to and from the Budapest airport to pick up our son. Most of Hungary is extremely flat, but there are some nice hills and caves that we'll have to explore on a different trip. Driving through Budapest (in our case, just Pest (the eastern side of the river)) should be avoided if at all possible, but it's really hard to get to the airport any other way. We took the back roads on the way back home - probably no faster, but more interesting. We stopped at a massive supermarket in Miskolc to stock up on Barilla pasta and Hungarian wine (Tokaj and Egri Bikaver).

I wonder what goes on at this rest area on the Hungarian autobahn.

Wooden Churches and Squalor

As a friend from India says "You want squalor? We got squalor!". And I got to see a bit of Slovak squalor today. But the point of today's ride (besides getting in a good ride) was to go out to Brežany to see the wooden church. There are a lot of these churches in far eastern Slovakia, but Brežany has the only one in the Prešov district. It was a pleasant but cool day today, and it took me about 45 minutes to ride the 10 miles out of town to the church. Along the way I went through Rokycany, where most of the houses looked pretty decent, but there was one row of decrepit and decaying houses along the bottom of a narrow valley at the edge of town. I didn't stop to inquire, but it looked like all the residents of this part of town were Roma (also known as Gypsies). I thought of taking a picture, but thought better of it - some of our Slovak friends are going to take us to a Roma village where they know the mayor, which should be more of a controlled visit.

Anyway, 3 km up a side road I found the church. I was the only tourist around, and the church was locked, but the sun had just come out and I spent 20 minutes wandering around taking pictures. The church dates back to 1726, which is a bit older than anything we have in the Boulder area. Wooden churches are usually 'Greek Catholic', which is the particular version of Catholocism followed by the Ruthenian minority here. Andy Warhol is probably the most famous Ruthenian, and there's a Warhol museum in Medzilaborce - we'll check it out some weekend.





There was a strange device outside the church that looked like a crank-powered noise maker. It had a large sounding box and 3 hammers on spring steel that were actuated by a set of spikes when you turned the crank. I was really tempted to see what happened when I turned the crank, but from the strength of the steel springs, I was afraid that it make enough noise to summon the entire village. Visions of a crowd of Slovak peasants armed with pitchforks surrounding a lone orange-lycra-clad cyclist convinced me to leave it alone. There were also a couple of tempting bell ropes coming down from the steeple, but I left those alone too.



After visiting the church, I went a few miles on up the road past Zipov. The road climbs fairly steeply for a while before descending to Margecany, a popular destination for cyclists. Margecany will have to wait for another day. Traffic on these roads amounts to a car or truck every couple of minutes, and everyone seems to give cyclists plenty of room. I haven't run into the Slovak version of a redneck in a pickup yet.

Out in the Mud

It rained this morning for an hour so I decided to run instead of ride. I wanted to make the direct connection from town up to the forest paths where I've been running and riding, so I set out from the University and found the 'green' trail on the west side of town. It climbs about 240m in the first 3 km and then drops another 150m into Kvasny Vody. Someone had been driving a large tractor along part of the trail (logging?) turning it into a mud hole. When I got down to the picnic area at KV, I was surprised to meet another runner. Stefan is a mountain runner from a town near Prešov, and wasted no time in telling me that he was 56 years old. He seemed disappointed to find out that I was only a couple of years younger - I think he wanted to beat up on some young guy. I gave him a good run for his money on the climb back up to the ridge, but he definitely had me on the downhill speed (never my strong point). He also showed me a nice detour around the mud hole. Our conversation was a mix of broken Slovak and English, with a few German words for good measure. We didn't exchange contact info, but chances are I'll see him again on the trails - he's training for a bunch of mountain marathons in Switzerland, Italy, etc.

Out in the Woods

Yesterday I decided to go explore some of the trails that my friend Michal had pointed out to me on Saturday. He hadn't been in this area yet either, so I didn't know what to expect. It turned out to be mostly very smooth asphalt, sometimes covered with leaves or moss, but again no car traffic. There wasn't any bike or foot traffic either - I rode for close to an hour though the woods and saw nobody. There was a colorful map at the trailhead showing the yellow, red, green and blue trails, but once you were out on the trails there was no indication which road was which color, or whether a road was actually part of the colored trail system at all. I had to backtrack a couple of times, but eventually came out behind the chaty (garden cottages) in Cemjata. I tacked on an out-and-back to Bzenov - somehow I expected that riding to a place called 'Bzenov' would be more exotic than riding to Jamestown or Hygiene, but there was nothing happening there at all, so I rode back to Prešov. About 27 miles with some good hills - my thighs are feeling it. And I know my bike would be faster if I put the road tires (700x25) on instead of the 700x32 cross tires, but then I couldn't ride the forest paths.

At the Police Again

It was a really nice day in Presov today, and I was looking forward to getting out on the bike again when the police called. I won't bore you with the details, but we spent the whole afternoon driving out to the police station, waiting outside offices with cryptic names in Slovak, getting documents covered with official stamps and so on, all just to prove that the owner of our apartment actually owns the place. Apparently, this is a matter of public record and it's all available on the Internet, but we had to PROVE it. Monika, our colleague from UniPo (the University of Presov) assures us that this was the last time we'll have to visit the police. I hope she's right...

I did have time for a nice run along the river this evening, but the bike will have to wait until tomorrow.

On Skis Again

After much Internet research, it looked like Strbske Pleso was the closest (and only?) place with groomed XC tracks, so we headed over there. A bit west of Poprad you take a road that winds steeply up the foothills of the High Tatras. The town of Strbske Pleso is at about 4300 feet, and would be beautiful except for the fact that a huge windstorm came through about 4 years ago and blew down vast swaths of trees.


The skiing itself left a bit to be desired. If there had been new snow and it had been groomed, it would have been excellent, but the snow was old, the day was warm and the wind had left pine cones and needles all over the tracks. By the 4th lap of the 5km loop, my skis were barely moving. But the views of the High Tatras immediately to the north and the Low Tatras across the valley to the south were impressive. If we don't get more snow, this may be my last time on XC skis here in Slovakia.

After a couple of hours of skiing, we drove back east along the high road with views of hundreds of acres of downed trees (and some beautiful peaks). Back down in Poprad, we ate lunch at a Koliba, a rustic Slovak-style restaurant. I had the 'Fuhrmann halusky' with lots of sausage and melted cheese (and a beer), and Cindi had something described on the English/German tourist menu as a 'domestic slaughter'. I guess they just step out the back door and shoot the first thing they see. Mighty tasty, but you can hear your arteries slam shut.

To work off lunch, we walked across the parking lot to AquaCity Poprad, a giant indoor/outdoor thermal bath and water park resort. We sampled various hot pools and took a few rides on the big slides, but skipped the 'cryotherapy' room where they cool you down to -100 deg C. They say it's good for you....

Nice views of the Spis Castle at night on the way home.

On the Bike Again

I got my bike assembled on Thursday and was all set to ride on Friday when I noticed that both tires were flat. I've been a fan of those green instant patches (e.g. Slime 'Scabs'), but for some reason they don't hold up to the environment in an airplane luggage hold. I'd been riding around Boulder for a month with these same patched tubes, but the patches seemed to have dried out and started leaking by the time they got here. Local bike shops do have tubes, so I rounded up a pair and got out on the road on Saturday.

After about 3 miles of breathing Diesel exhaust, I got to the forest road to Kvasny Vody. This is a one-lane asphalt road through the woods and it's closed to motor vehicles. The road surface is a bit decayed in places so the cross bike is a good choice. I stopped at the top of a long hill where the asphalt ends and the mountain bike trails start. A couple of minutes later, one of the local MTB riders came up the same way and stopped to talk. His name is Michal and he spent some time in Denver many years ago, so he speaks decent English. We were both looking for someone to ride with, so we spent the next hour riding various little roads through the woods, eventually riding back to Presov and exchanging phone numbers so we can ride again.

No pictures - I'll take the camera next time.

Random Musings from the East

They don’t like to be referred to as ‘Eastern Europe’ here – they prefer ‘Central Europe’. And yes, geographically speaking, the center of Europe is in Slovakia, but culturally and economically, this is the East.

Exercising on purpose is not popular here. I’ve been out running on the bike path along the river, and I’ve seen a couple of other people running, but generally I just get odd looks and the occasional giggle (or maybe I’m just paranoid). They’ll probably be really shocked when I get my bike out.

I’m afraid the ski season here is going to be a bust. Next Saturday’s race (near Banska Bystrica) has been postponed until mid-March due to lack of snow, and who knows if it will happen then. The local idea of cross-country skiing is more like back-country touring than like the skating/racing that I like to do.

Even though there’s not much snow, there’s enough to get my car stuck. Peugeot put some totally inadequate (for winter) summer tires on our car, and I’ve been stuck twice on ice already. This morning, I dropped $15(!) on a set of tire chains.

Some things are a bargain here – I can get a beer or espresso in a restaurant for around $1, and a nice dinner is around $10. But I just filled the car today for around $90 – diesel is almost $7 per gallon. Fortunately, I’m getting 42-45mpg.

Back in the ČSSR…

You don’t know how happy you are. OK, technically this was never an SSR, but the Soviet-era mindset is still in evidence some places. Yesterday we went down to the police station to register for our Temporary Residence Permits. A colleague from the university took us over there, which was good because we never could have figured it out ourselves. The TRP office is actually in an industrial wasteland east of town, with only a tiny sign. Once inside, we were buzzed in through a locked gate and directed down the hall to the appropriate office. We had all our forms filled out already, but the humorless woman in the office indicated that everything would have to be done again ‘in Slovak letters’. Our poor colleague was put to work recopying the forms with proper penmanship and grammar, while simultaneously translating requests for the current addresses of all of our siblings, the maiden name of our cat and other information necessary to determine that we were not Enemies of the State. Every document had to copied a few times on an ancient copy machine. One of the women behind the desk spent 5 minutes carefully going through our stack of documents over and over again – after a couple of minutes, it was obvious that she had no idea what she was looking for and was just trying to look important. But after only an hour and a quarter, we were handed a small slip of paper with some impressive-looking stamps which apparently is our Temporary Temporary Residency Permit, which will have to do until we get the Permanent TRP.

The Trans-Europe Express

Just a quick update: I'm safely ensconced in Presov, Slovakia, my more-or-less final destination. On Sunday PM, I drove east across Switzerland, dipped briefly into Liechtenstein and made it across western Austria as far as Imst (Tirol). The next day, I got a good (but cold) ski workout at Niederthai (Otztal) and then set my nostril hairs on fire and drove to Vienna. I spent an enjoyable evening with my friend Tom and his family, and slept on the guest mattress under the dining table. After a visit to a typical Viennese coffee shop the next morning, I drove across Slovakia, stopping long enough for a quick ski at Park Snow Donolavy. I pulled into Presov well after dark and took about 45 minutes of blundering around to find my wife and our apartment.

I am now a visiting leech at the Department of Geography of the University of Presov. More details at 10....

Pulling Adequacy from the Jaws of Defeat

In some races, everything goes well - in others, it's a complete disaster. Today's race was a combination of the two. It was a nice chilly 9 below (C) in the shade this morning, but the sun came up on most of the course by the 10AM start. I didn't get the 'call-up' to the first group (Hauptklasse) so I lined up with the Volkslaufer in the second wave which started 3 minutes behind. I had a pretty good position - 4 row of about a dozen - and was ready to really give it everything on the initial 2km of icy and slightly downhill track. The gun went off, I gave a few good double poles to get going and realized that I wasn't getting any push out of my left side. When I looked down, my hand was still holding the pole grip, but the pole was nowhere to be seen. Someone had stepped on my basket and pulled the shaft right out of the grip. Nothing to do but stop and work my way backwards through the rest of the field to find my pole. Then it took 30 seconds or so to cram the shaft back into the grip, during which the grip broke! When I finally got things reassembled, I was essentially at the very back of the second wave, with 400+ people ahead of me. A little adrenaline works wonders, and I skated and double-poled past about 150 people over the next 2km.



Everything kept going well for most of the race, as I reeled in one person after another. Of course, as I moved up, I was passing faster people so it went slower, but I was moving steadily until about the 3km-to-go point. We were back on the slight downhill and I had a good rhythm going. I took another good stroke, and my left side just kept going - no pole! Somehow it had gotten pulled out of the broken grip. I completed my pole stroke by smashing into the icy track with my left knee, which now has a major case of road rash. Another 30 seconds or so to retrieve my pole and reassemble it, and I was off again. I passed back the few people who had just passed me, and was ready to crank up the final slight uphill when I noticed that I wasn't getting any grip on the left. As I suspected, the spike had fallen out of the pole, making it almost useless on the icy track. I still managed to pass a couple more people, but it was essentially a one-pole effort. I finished the 21km course (which I measured at 18.5km) in about 55 minutes flat, of which at least 90 seconds was devoted to mechanical problems. (It's amazing what a low-altitude flat icy course will do for your times - last week's Frisco Gold Rush in Colorado was only 1km longer, but took me another 22 minutes.)

To add insult to injury, the only food available after the race was for sale at the usual Swiss prices. This is my sixth race in Europe, and all the others provided a full meal and sometimes beer. Not in Switzerland...

After paying the local ski shop $30 to fix my pole (quick service, no labor charge, probably inflated parts prices), I decided to get out of the theme park as quickly as possible. I drove east past some spectacular limestone mountains that make you realize how ugly most Colorado mountains are. I took a brief detour into Liechtenstein. The royal family used to make their money by manufacturing Curta calculators (Google them!), but now it's the money-laundering capital of Europe. Finally back into Austria, through the Arlberg Tunnel and into Imst where I found a decent room for 23 Euros. I dropped a bit on dinner, but nothing like in SwitzerLand(TM). And they had Schneider Weisse, one of my favorite Weissbiers.

The World's Largest Theme Park

I know the Swiss will be offended, but I feel like I'm visiting the world's largest theme park. It starts at the border where you buy the overpriced ticket (read "Swiss Motorway Tax"). Then you wait in long lines (a.k.a. Zurich traffic jams - no bypass around the city) and eat at overpriced food concession stands (better known as run-of-the-mill pizzerias where I dropped $28 on a (generous) bowl of pasta, a salad and a small beer).

I had two reasons for coming to Switzerland (which isn't exactly directly between Paris and Presov). First was to visit my long-lost (well, not really lost) cousin David near Basel. We hadn't seen each other in over 40 years, but we had a fine old time drinking, eating, telling stories, etc. Thanks for the hospitality, David!

The second reason is tomorrow's cross-country ski race near Einsiedeln. It was supposed to be IN Einsiedeln, but since they have hardly any snow there, they've moved the race up the valley to Studen, where the ground is covered with a white substance that resembles the stuff that used to build up inside your old freezer. But it's fast skiing - you just have to stay upright. And the scenery is spectacular - Alps on all sides of you. (The course itself is the usual Alpine XC course - up one side of the valley and down the other.)

Speaking of skiing, I did 22km yesterday on some trails near Gerardmer in the Vosges Mts of France. The snow conditions were pretty bad, but the trail system was excellent - this place would be a blast if it had good snow.

Nancy Says Hello

So I actually made it to Europe – for a while, I wasn’t sure it would happen. Wednesday got off to an unauspicious start at 5AM when American Airlines called to say “Your flight has been canceled”. But then they continued “and you’ve been re-routed through Dallas”. The Dallas flight got in only an hour after the canceled Chicago flight was supposed to. And the AA agents were really nice to me – the first one counted my huge duffel bag as a ‘boot bag’, which meant that I only had one extra piece: the bike box. She could have charged me excess baggage fees, but only hit me up for the standard $110 international bike fee. Then when I got to DFW, I checked at the gate and there was an exit-row seat left for me!

After retrieving my mountain of luggage at CDG and getting it all on one cart,

I trundled through the airport trying not to maim people with my ski box and got to the Peugeot pick-up desk. They sent a van over for me and took me to pick up my brand-new Peugeot 307 station wagon (diesel, 5-speed, supposed to get around 50mpg). I got everything inside, filled the tank and set out for parts east. In all the travel literature I’ve read, I’ve never seen a 250-mile drive recommended as a cure for jet-lag. After a couple of espresso stops and some odd thick fog on an otherwise sunny day, I pulled into Nancy about 5PM.


Here on the south side of Nancy there are 3 hotels in a row, all run by Accor. The ‘high-end’ is the Novotel, mid-range is the Etap, and I’m staying in the Fomule 1. F1 hotels have all the comforts of home, provided you were raised in a Stalinist labor camp. The formula seems to be to cut out everything you can – there are no power outlets in the room, the bath towel is the size of a hand towel, and there don’t seem to be any toilet seats. But the WC (down the hall) goes through some kind of strange cleaning cycle after you leave, with all kinds of whirring noises coming through the door and a red light telling you not to enter, so it probably passes the stringent EU sanitary requirements.



I’m looking forward to spending a night in a horizontal position.

Packing, or Getting My Sh*t Together

So I got this nifty bike box from Crateworks – somewhat cheaper than the hard plastic cases, and it looks like my 61cm bike will fit (although I think the chainrings would have to come off the 64cm bike). It’s made out of what looks to be plastic-impregnated corrugated cardboard. Here’s what it looks like with the frame



And here are the wheels


And here it is all closed up.

Too Much Racing

Well, the snow is here, and I've been overdoing it - 8 races in just over 3 weeks. Three of those were the Eldora Nighthawks 5km night races where we ski around the base of the ski area in temperatures as low as -1F (-18C). I also did a 10k snowshoe race in Silverthorne, the Devils Thumb Pursuit race (7.5k classic, 7.5k skate), the 15k at Gold Run, and yesterday both the 5k classic and the 20k skate at the Frisco Gold Rush. I actually won my age group at a couple of these - there are lots of faster guys my age, but I guess they didn't show up.

I'm seriously tired now - time for a few days off before next weekend's race in Switzerland (I hope).