The climactic and epic final push over the wilderness to Plzen

August 17, 2019

Vltava - Ejpovice, Plzen

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I'd entered the zone of instant, dreamless sleep, and tonight was no exception. When I awoke we'd acquired a few more campers, including a family on motorbikes sleeping under bivvies attached to the bikes. They greeted me warmly as I emerged blinking from my still slightly soggy tent.

After having a wash I was sceptical that the bar/restaurant would be open for breakfast - so since I had plenty of baked goods and coffee returned to the tent to put some together and consider my situation. I had done well and was now in striking distance of Plzen. The course for the morning was straightforward - heading west, all roads converged on the provincial centre of Příbram. There were no obvious minor roads, but early on a Saturday morning I was quite happy to ride the 118 secondary road directly.

After Příbram I had one last major challenge separating me from a string of minor towns that lead to Plzen. The unpronouncable CHKO (national park) Brdy reared up beyond the town, green, empty and riddled with peak symbols in the 800 metres. From what I could gather, this was a huge heathland, wild and remote, much of which was army training ground and had been stripped of its villages during the communist years. I had genuine reservations that I would make it over Brdy today - my backup was to make sure I had enough supplies to wild camp somewhere in the park, and continue to Plzen the following day.

The campsite in the morning - you can see the bivy that the bikers set up. As always seems to be the case, the motorbikers were the nicest people you could hope to meet.

Before all this though I had an initial annoyance of much the same type as yesterday. If I didn't want to go back to the 18 and ride that to Příbram - and I didn't - then I would need to work my way south along the river to the next village, Kamýk. The only problem is there was, again, no road at all. Some eyeballing of the GPS map seemed to show another forest track. via the village of Hojšín.

With some sighs I set off, and found the track without too much trouble. It was better than yesterday's, but still steep (12%!). Why did I keep doing this to myself? At the top, the path narrowed still further to take me through the woods, but on the flatter gradient I could ride without too much trouble and even made a bit of a hairy descent into the village.

As an ex-microbiologist, I never think of bees as being a biohazard - but I suppose they are biological, and a hazard...

The track narrows as it goes through the woods...

After Hojšín I could easily pick the roads up to Kamýk, where the 118 would give me a crossing of the Vltava and take me directly west to Příbram. Despite the overcast day, it was a picturesque ride along the Vltava - which is broad and stately at this point (it becomes very wide, almost a lake, to the south).

Entering Kamýk, it had the feeling of a resort town not yet open for business early on a Saturday morning. I passed some holidaymakers milling about outside a hotel, and crossed the mighty Vltava.

Riding alongside the Vltava. It is bounded by cliffs further up - unfortunately I couldn't see these as I was contouring above it through the woods, so this rather gentle photo is all I have.

The secondary road gives a straightforward crossing of the river

There would be no more navigational slight of hand from here: the 118 would take me straight to Příbram. This not being my first Czech rodeo, I figured that coming up from the level of the river to the town at the foot in the mountains would involve a climb. This time I was prepared - the GPS indicated I was at 275m ASL near the river - possibly a first since I'd entered the Czech republic. Some peaks near the motorway were indicated 550m. So I was likely in for a good thousand feet of climbing.

The road was pretty quiet, and well graded. After leaving the town, I started to climb almost immediately. The gradient was a steady 4-5%, and I rather happily winched myself up it, no granny required. The trace even indicates I kept my speed above 10kph, which must be a first.

The coolness of the day and the quietness of the road made the climb a somewhat hypnotic experience, and I don't have too much to report from the 15km as I made my way through the villages of Zduchovice and Jablonná. In fact, my only strong memory is passing a group of (motor) bikers behind a cafe all tucking into pints of Plzen (at 9am). That's a way to start a Saturday.

Climbing out of the Vltava river valley. As usual, the river is soon hidden in a fold in the hills.

At the time the terseness of this made me laugh (as the sign just pointed to a field of horses). I have to concede as a photograph it makes no sense.

The hills building into wooded mountains as I look west towards Plzen

I reached the top and crossed the Prague-Plzen highway at the top in a triumphal mood. I had covered the climb with, for me, surprising speed - 1hr 20 to cover the 15km. At the top the GPS indicated my altitude was now on the edge of 600m. I was pleased and surprised to regain the height with such relative ease - if I avoid losing this, getting to the 800m level in CHKO Brdy didn't seem so bad.

I figured I would lose some coming down into Příbram, but also knew that it was a mining town, perched up in the foothills of the mountains. Actually, Příbram was one of the few places I had read up a little on before setting off. It had become something of a mining boom-town in the thirties - and then, after the Second World War, had been the epicentre of what was really the Czech GULAG where political prisoners were sent for forced labour in the Uranium mines after rich deposits of Uranite were discovered around the town. The Uranium, of course, was exported to the rest of the eastern block to fuel reactors.

After crossing the motorway, I emerged onto a high and windswept plateau. There was little traffic on the main road, and it felt rather desolate. Needing somewhere to relieve myself, I stopped behind an (incredible run-down) bus-shelter, and realised I was beside an enormous hole in the hillside. Old rusting industrial structures littered the landscape. Could this be one of the uranium mines worked with slave labour into my lifetime? I shivered and moved on.

Crossing the Prague - Příbram motorway. Ultimately, continuing south, this re-enters Germany near the Austrian border.

The pit on the high desolate plateau on the hills above Příbram. Google maps reckons this is (now) cement works, but minedat.org indicates that it in fact is indeed Uranium mine #16 dating from the communist era. Some of the Uranium processing plant is still visible on the other side.

The pit head at shaft #16. The structure is pretty corroded now, and has been re-purposed as a mast.

The same headframe on https://www.mindat.org/loc-25641.html - it's definitely the same one at #16.

The headframe in the snow. The pit is one of the deepest in Europe, at 1838m. From Viktor Macha, https://www.viktormacha.com/galerie/uranium-mining-pribram-126/.

"Nobody cared about life at that time," said Miroslav Moravec, 86, who was imprisoned at a camp called Vojna near Pribram ... "We were numbers, not people, just meat". Mr. Moravec was forced to mine uranium from depths of 1,000 meters, or 3,300 feet, in hot and dangerous conditions. He recalls how prisoners were routinely herded into a concrete chamber and required to sleep standing up as an additional form of humiliation. He calls himself lucky not to suffer from lung or intestinal cancer, which has struck down many of his former work mates. He was sent to the Vojna camp after refusing to join the Communist Party ... When he was released ... he reached an agreement with the authorities to continue working in the uranium mines and for the mining industry. That was "the best protection, and the best way to make sure that people wouldn’t persecute me," he said.

The same Uranium processing plant and pit #16 in (un)happier times. Photo Credits Viktor Macha.

I was glad to make a quite descent out of this forsaken place and down into the town. Přibram itself is a rather grand provincial capital, enriched through mining through the years. I spun through the town centre, dodging buses the heaviest traffic I'd seen since entering the country.

Once I crossed town I spotted a supermarket and figured now would be a good time to stock up before I struck out into the wilderness of Brdy. As I was making a meal of crossing the road, I caught a fleeting glimpse of two other fully-loaded touring cyclists going the other way - the first I'd seen in the Czech Republic. They spun down a side street before I could say hello!

Cool architecture in Příbram. And buses, traffic, and traffic lights!

Waiting at the lights, I thought this person was carefully removing graffiti. It turns out they were carefully *adding* it!

Lots of victuals purchased, I spent some time outside the supermarket downing a litre bottle of orange juice and psyching myself up for the climb up to Brdy. Other than the highway 19 there were no roads - not even unclassified country roads - crossing the park; and I had no intention of riding on the highway, given how much east-west traffic would be funnelled onto it. To complicate things, large swathes of the park were cross-hatched red on my map, indicating it was part of the restricted military zone. Probably not the biggest deal (there would surely be a proper fence preventing me going anywhere I really shouldn't) but I didn't particularly want to wander into it by accident.

But I had scoped this out, and I was fairly sure the pencil-thin lines on my map did correspond to backroads - surfaced or not I didn't know - that could take me across the width of the park. The easiest access point seemed to be from the village of Obecnice, from which I could work my way west, avoiding the military area, to the vicinity of Stašice. I would need to cross over a high point very likely greater than 800m. I took a look at the altitude on the GPS, and while I had lost a little height descending into town, I was still at 485m or so. Given the morning's performance, another 350m climb didn't seem that unreasonable.

I spun north out of Příbram, through outskirts that immediately became heavily industrial in character. Huge, metallurgical plants lined the road. After a detour that took me to a particularly gigantic example, I found the clearly-signed route to Obecnice and began to pull myself up to the west. The road was empty of traffic, as befits the dead-end that Obecnice essentially is, and the climbing was gradual and in the sweet 4-5% spot that I found let me clock up the metres in a fairly endlessly sustainable way.

The road out of Příbram with lots of mining-related heavy industry

I got a bit lost and ended up following the railway to this enormous plant. Apparently, "Kovohutě Příbram is a metallurgical plant which recycles wastes containing lead (in particular lead batteries)"

I reached Obecnice without too much trouble - and was somewhat puzzled at how lively this otherwise dead-end village was. I pulled up through the village, pleased to see I'd already made 500m - I was checking the altitude meter regularly now - continuing to head west, which did seem to have clear access. Indeed, scooters and a few cars passed me, apparently continuing towards the CHKO.

As I left the village, I passed a sign which seemed to include local trails. To my gratification it showed just what I was looking for - a detailed map of the trails crossing Brdy, all of which were, as I'd hoped, accessible from Obecnice. And - and this was what I was lacking on both my paper and GPS map - it had contours. I quickly concluded that while the route directly west to Strašice was viable, it also involved climbing above 850m. Instead, by continuing to head NW and skirting the military zone, I could emerge at the village of Nová Ves apparently capping out at 700m. The trail was shown on my paper map and represented in the GPS. I decided to go for it.

I winched myself slowly out the village, the climbing relentless and the gradient significant now (looks like 8% or so). Soon I came to a sign indicating I was entering Brdy, and one limiting the speed vehicles in the forest. This seemed to bode well that the good surface would continue.

I pulled on further, past cars parked of families out mushrooming (of course). Brdy was quite unlike I had imagined it - with its significant altitude and bareness I had visualised open, wild moorland, miles from anywhere and potentially dangerous. Instead the entire thing was a giant forest - and one full of day-trippers on this Saturday. I saw my first set of mountain bikes a few kilometres in, and then was passed regularly for the next hour. The vibe certainly changed from "swashbuckling adventure" to "Saturday recreation". Not that I was too disappointed by this - in fact I felt rather silly for having so much trepidation for crossing Brdy.

After the steepest part of the climb I came to a junction, all the roads being well surfaced, and carefully used the compass and GPS to check I was going the right way. The climb continued, but being steady and shaded by the tall trees didn't seem like too much of a big deal. I passed another junction, checked my navigation and realised the altimeter was reading 700m. As I started to descend I couldn't quite believe how straightforward it had been!

The descent became quick, and I had the fun of passing, being passed, and then re-passing a couple out on mountain bikes (I'll let you guess whether I passed them going downhill with my massive momentum, or uphill with my massive load). The slopes were steep, 8% at times, and my brakes became to flutter and then start to squeal as they heated up. I've noticed this before, and it doesn't seem to lead to any fading, but I still alternated front and back brakes to try to give them a chance to cool. I had five kilometres of this screaming descent, which I covered in 20 minutes.

Climbing up and into Brdy. I still had some trepidation as to what was in store at this point...

The landscape in Brdy. To the right, regular signs were posted forbidding entrance, as that part of the forest is the military area.

The junctions in the middle of the woods. Everything was well surfaced.

The mountain bikers that I kept passing and re-passing

At the bottom and 250m below, I emerged in Nová Ves and took a breather. I had broken the back of the journey to Plzen: I had one more range of lower hills to cross, and then would be in the long valley containing the Prague-Plzen highway and a series of towns: Mýto, Holoubkov and Rokycany that would lead to Plzen itself. I had covered less than 50km, but considering I was expecting to spend most of the day in Brdy, or at least have lunch there, I felt like this was pretty good going.

It was lunch time, though. I spun down the road to the south west; a little steady climbing was in fact needed, and this - presumably for psychological reasons - started to really take it out of me. In Těně I spotted a bench looking out over the fields, and since the day was brightening up, thought this was a perfect place for lunch.

Entering Plzeňsky Kraj - i.e. Plzen county

Another olive sandwich for lunch. And I also managed to find Slovak string cheese!

After Těně my plan was to cut across to Myto in the next valley. I had spotted another of my patented cross-country shortcuts, though, that would apparently take me directly to the next town, Holoubkov, and so cut off quite a bit of distance.

I pulled through the village and up to the main road, and found the entrance to the forest track without too much trouble. The track was rough, but tarmac surfaced - which was fortunate, because at first there was quite a stiff climb back over 600m. Once I'd breached the top, though, I found myself on a series of huge concrete-segment roads - as wide as a dual-carriageway in places - spreading down the hill.

I have no idea what these were for - they looked vaguely industrial - but they allowed me another speedy descent to Holoubkov, notwithstanding the rhythmic judder between the blocks.

The shortcut through the woods outside Těně

Descending the hills on hugely broad roads made of concrete blocks. Strange, but a gift to a tired cyclist.

Now I was in the valley, I knew I'd have a reasonably easy time of the cycling and navigation. I could simply follow the secondary road 605, which ran parallel to the highway, to Rokycany. The traffic was light - most of it must be on the highway - and a few kilometres later I came into Rokycany - a rather grand place.

Adolf Srb was apparently a journalist and advocate for Czech independence from the Austrian empire

I continued on the 605 through Rokycany, but the traffic was now dense. I could see numbered cycleways - including Eurovelo 3 route which goes from Prague to Plzen - but they took me initially along the road. After a not very pleasant couple of kilometres I was glad to see it dive off and follow a pretty minor road alongside the series of lakes formed by the Klabava.

I dawdled along these, enjoying the ride but feeling pretty worn out. At Ejpovice, as promised by the map, I passed a campsite, and - it was lovely. Strung out along the lakeside, with easy access to the bike path and little wooden shower blocks just available for anyone to use. I had set my sights on going right into Plzen, and camping to the north of the centre (perhaps at the Ostend site) - so I actually passed the site. Then I had a moment of clarity - here was a good place to stop, I was within spitting distance to Plzen, and there was no need to go anything further.

Little back roads after getting off the 605 after Rokycany

The Klabava forms quite wide lakes all along here

I parked up, and seeing the reception was closed, went into the bar at the side. A rather shy girl happily charged me for camping, and I wheeled myself in. I immediately spotted a perfect spot right by the lake - and to my surprise it wasn't reserved for caravans or RVs. I very slowly unpacked and put up the tent - I'd discovered that my mp3 player had (finally) died earlier in the day, so didn't have the motivating music that I normally had when setting up.

The really quite idyllic camping spot at camping Ejpovice, just outside Plzen

My first priority was to have a shower, since I hadn't had one since (ach) Holice on the other side of the country. I wondered up to the shower blocks, and realised to my slight annoyance that they were locked. I walked back to the bar - a good 500m - and asked for the key. There was a lot of scrabbling about, but one was eventually produced. Back I went - and of course it didn't work. Back to the bar, more scrabbling about, girl now getting told off by mother that appeared, and two more keys handed to me with an apologetic grin. I got in this time, but you can add a mile or so of walking back and forth to the shower block to my total.

Pleased that it was early in the day and I'd have some time to dry the tent which was still soggy, I perched up by the lake shore and made some coffee. As I was sitting drinking it, a kid waddled over from the camp - a kind of caravan-tent-winnebego combination - next door, and looked at me with curiosity. After saying "ahoj" a few times, the kid's dad came over and introduced himself. He spoke no English, and my Czech was pretty minimal, so communication was limited to pointing and gestures. He invited me over for a beer - and I spent a happy half hour with the family, having fun trying to communicate. It is strange how different people take different approaches here: the mother and uncle (?) grasped the nettle, by pointing to thinks in my map (which was a good prop, as talking about where I'd been seemed to be a winner) and saying the Czech word. The original chap, kind as he was though, would just ask me long questions in Czech, and then look mystified as I tried to explain I didn't understand.

I had some halloumi in the pannier that needed eating, so I wasn't too worried about getting a meal. I did wonder up to the bar/restaurant, but they'd stopped serving. No worries - I got a couple of drinks, and sat outside as the light came down. Down in the meadow, there was the sound of singing and a campfire was being constructed. I took my drink down there, and saw that it was quite a big get-together, with lots of jovial singing - and they were setting up a screen for an outdoor cinema. As I sat by the campfire and drank more pilsner, a chap came up and introduced himself, asking where I was from and shaking my hand very warmly.

Not wanting to miss the film now, I rather unsteadily wobbled back to camp, and cooked up my halloumi. Thus sated, I returned to the meadow, bought another drink, and settled down by the fire to watch the film. It was an all-Czech production, which seemed to revolve around a kindly vet who was being forced (?) to go to an old peoples home, but kept escaping and making off around picturesque bits of the country. The film was recent, but for the life of me I haven't been able to identify it. After a few drinks, certain things started to become increasingly funny to me: the sheer number of times characters greeted each other with "Ahoj!"; the way every romantic escape essentially involved a lot of wholesome smoking and drinking; and the way they kept tracking him down again, as the Czech Republic just isn't that large. The chap who'd introduced himself before, and was now even more well-oiled and friendly, would periodically appear to stoke up the fire while heartily booming out names of English football teams at me: "Chelsea, yes!".

If there was any danger of not passing out when I got to the tent, four pints of pilsner removed any doubt. But I'd made it, and tomorrow was a rest day!

An impressionistic photo of the open-air cinema, showing the Czech film which I've still not been able to identify

Not a bad place to break the journey, at all

Today's ride: 75 km (47 miles)
Total: 744 km (462 miles)

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