Day #4 How I exploited a german tourist

Článek je k dispozici i v češtině 🇨🇿.

The day couldn’t have started any other way than with a full-blown crisis! First off – I got up at 1:30 in the morning, so calling it “morning” or even “day” feels like a stretch. I woke up on a bench, and those first few seconds were spent trying to figure out what the hell I was doing there. Once I filtered out all the reasonable explanations, it hit me – I was racing the Hellenic Mountain Race. Right. I scrambled to my feet and started packing.

That part didn’t take long – I basically just rolled out of my sleeping bag. The sleeping mat had stayed in the bag. And I was dressed to ride. I just had to put my shoes back on. No, I didn’t pack pajamas for this race either.

🥖 I Haven’t Heard the Words “Caloric Surplus” in Days

My memories of the night are foggy at best – like trying to untangle a ball of spaghetti. I’d slept only two hours. That wasn’t enough. Sleep deprivation wasn’t just creeping up on me – it had latched on like a slug to a zucchini. At one point I realized I was slowing down even going downhill, so I lay down by the roadside a few times for quick power naps.

Things didn’t get better when daylight came. Quite the opposite. I hit a rolling section of road – smooth, flowy, lulling me to sleep like a cursed lullaby. The risk of riding straight into a ditch was too real, but the hope of finding an open shop kept me playing this dangerous game.

I stopped at a gas station – the only food option before CP3. The selection was exactly what you'd expect: cookies, 7days croissants, and sesame bars packed with calories. Not ideal for a ballerina, but perfect for a bodybuilders in gain phase.

🧠 Grease the Mind, Keep It Rolling

While packing my jacket, I noticed a hole in my Apidura saddle bag. Well, technically glue was coming apart. Of course, it happened exactly two years after purchase. Coincidence…? Luckily, they offer an “extended” warranty and promised to fix it for free. For the Hellenic race, a stripe of duct tape did the job just fine.

On the descent, I found myself fighting off sleep again – and this time I was clearly losing. Drawing on years of experience, I solved it the usual way: stopped at the nearest tourist and asked how he was doing.

He was the only backpacker I saw in all of Greece. Turned out he was from Germany, hiking some long-distance trail. Apparently, he’d been out here for three weeks and hadn’t seen a single other hiker either… That short conversation greased the gears in my brain just enough to keep me going for a bit longer. The next section was marked “HAB” – and I knew exactly what that meant: Hike A Bike.

🥾 You're not riding the Hellenic Mountain Race, you’re hiking it

I descended to a bridge, and right at its base the real fun began: full-on hike-a-bike straight to the top. At one point I got lost in the bushes, trying to find the trail. Left the bike behind and scouted on foot to figure out which gap I could squeeze through. I ended up overtaking Daniil Sadomskij from Denmark, which honestly surprised me. Moving fast isn’t really my thing. Among the top twenty riders, I had by far the slowest average moving speed. Not exactly something to brag about — but it shows I must’ve had some other skills that got me that far.

At the top, I ran into a herd of goats. Whenever I saw a group of livestock, I’d look around for the pack of dogs that usually comes with them. Luckily, these ones were “friendly.” They barked a few times for show, then left me alone. Still, I lingered a bit up there — the goats were taking the same trail as me, and I really didn’t want any dog to get the wrong idea about me “threatening” their crew.

It was already warming up, so I kept splashing myself in mountain streams. Daniil and I crossed paths several times. While I was cooling down, he was catching naps.

🛒 If You Don’t Eat, You Don’t Move

I’m not quite sure how — I felt like I’d just taken some mysterious mushrooms — but I somehow rolled into the small town of Agia Triada. Four of us ended up there at the same time, and I got tempted to go hunt for food. The gas station supplies were nearly gone, with just a few unidentifiable objects left deep inside of my stem bag — I wasn’t brave enough to reach in.

All the restaurants were closed. The only open place was some kind of bar, café, or whatever it was. The guy didn’t speak English, just a few random words in German. Someone managed to negotiate a bite of food, so the four of us shared scrambled eggs and bread. It reminded me of the Atlas Mountain Race, where this exact combo has legendary status in racer folklore. I grabbed three cans of Coca-Cola for the road and headed into the final climb to CP3. Honestly, I could’ve skipped the food — it just slowed me down. But I desperately wanted a break and a tiny taste of comfort.

Big thanks for the great photos from @tirtigos_ ☝️🙏

In the end, the final climb wasn’t as bad as I feared. It was all paved — fairly steep, but still rideable, and that was the important part. I made it above the treeline, which meant I got treated to some epic views.

I descended into Karpenisi, to CP3, knowing this would be the most important stop of the whole Hellenic. One rider scratched between this point and the finish — simply because of hunger. There really is nothing out there after this.

At the checkpoint, I devoured two gyros — no spaghetti on offer. I had planned to take one to go, but my hunger demanded instant action. I dove into the supermarket like a starling into a cherry tree and grabbed everything with decent calorie density. I wasn’t sure how I’d pack it all. Whatever didn’t fit in the bags went straight into my stomach.

😴 Time for Some Real Sleep

I left together with Daniil, and we exchanged a few thoughts about the race. Both of us were aiming to sleep at a place marked as “Best bivy spot.” I got there after dark. This time, the POI from the organizers didn’t lie — it really was a great spot. I filled up on water and crawled into a stone “shed.” Inside was a fine selection of Greek iconography and cardboard laid out on the floor. The air was a bit musty, but at this point, my senses were too dulled to care.

Since I’d spent most of the day fighting off near-death levels of sleepiness, I decided not to mess around — I set my timer for 3 full hours. That should give me a solid refresh. After all, that was about how much I’d slept in total over the last three nights. Oops.

156km

Distance

5,315m

Elevation

20:50

Duration

Strava activity

July 16, 2025 | #Bikepacking

Hellenic Mountain Race 2025

• Day #1 and #2 How I became a bad person
• Day #3 How I became pastafarian
• Day #4 How I exploited a german tourist

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