Cycling in Northeast Slovenia

For years, Mark had convinced me that retiring to northwestern Slovenia was the best choice. Due to its accessibility to not only mountains, rivers, and like minded outdoor enthusiasts, but access to medical care and city resources less than two hours away in any direction, we'd be spoiled for choice. During lulls at work, we’d ping each other with house sales in popular spots like Tolmin, Bovec, or Kobarid to keep the dream going. Some properties could be fixers uppers, others freshly remodeled- but because these areas are so popular for tourism, all are expensive and rarely stay on the market for long. 

In the early planning of our most recent Slovenian vacation, I pointed out that we had not been anywhere east of Ljubljana. I suggested we explore it by bike and it took zero seconds to convince him. Three years ago, we rode an Alps-to-Adriatic route, organized by a tour company called Visit Good Place. It was a mostly enjoyable week, cycling about 150 miles and climbing abut 9,000 feet with an initial fitness recommendation of low to medium. Some days I wanted to ride forever it was so pretty and the weather was so perfect and I wanted to marry the country. Some days we arrived to the hotel soggy, sore, and smelly from rain, sweat, and tears. Toward the end of this trip I mandated our bags to the balconies as they smelled like forgotten creamy potato soup left on the stove for a week in 90+ degree weather. We successfully finished the route tired, but proud.

My fate was sealed when I picked Visit Good Place’s Backcountry Gravel Tour that started in Maribor and ran west over four mountain ranges that would dip plummet in and out of Austria. The route would cover 200 miles and climb more than 28,000 feet during the week. Fitness recommendation: medium to high. Huh, I thought. I'm fit, no problem!

Having been a regular worker-outer, and Zwifting or bike commuting every day, I didn’t think what “medium to high” meant IRL outside of Astana where the highest climb is literally riding up and over a bridge. On this trip, there were zero days I wanted to ride forever regardless of prettiness and perfect weather. All of the days, I arrived to the hotel soggy, sore, and smelly. Some days we endured 8 hour downpours and headwinds, washed out trails, and deeply neglected single track. Everyday to the end, I was too tired to mandate our bags to any balcony.

This bike ride was so hard. SO HARD. It was steep, gravelly, and isolated and the weight of my can’t-do attitude surprised me. I wanted to quit at each false summit and I was angry at the world, feeling victimized and resentful I freely signed up this. It didn’t help that the kids and Mark seemed to cruise right on by, as I heaved and whined my way to the next check point. Everyday I gave myself STFU pep talks, shoved candy into my mouth and rode the damn bike.

There were some satisfying victories, like when we made it the tops of the ski resorts with panoramic views of what we’d just conquered. Descending on asphalt instead of gravel was sublime and euphoric. Beer never tasted so good. I got to say, “yeah, I did that” everyday. Also, it turns out this part of Slovenia is desperately beautiful. The bounties of mountain peaks, the sprawling meadows of wild flowers and farmland, and thick forests made us forget about the other side of the country. On the merciful last day of riding nearly 90% downhill into an unpronounceable town named Trzic, Mark was strategizing (and nearly executing) a new retirement plan, only a 200km shift to the east.

Jezersko

Jezersko

Solcava

Šmartno pri

Somewhere between Rogla and Šmartno pri 

Black Peak Summit

Soaked but faking it

Sausage vending machine

Sausage and burgers for lunch

Rogla

descending in the back country

too steep and rutted to ride up

Strategizing