321 Vabank (2025) – Ultra with everything, but with nothing

Insights from last 321 Vabank from friends

I heard about this sports event called 321 Vabank last year, when it was probably the second year, from two friends. Both admittedly milers and both sounded pretty enthusiastic. I had never ridden anything like it at the time and had no idea what it was probably like. I rode my bloody bike marathons to a max of 100km and even after that I was as broken as a gypsy toy.

First my crazy friend Juraj came up with the idea that he was going to race 321 km. And in a captivating narrative, he starts describing how you have to choose only 3 things from a list of things. That you just tell yourself that maybe you won’t sleep and don’t take a sleeping bag. Or you say you’re not gonna get a flat and throw all your stuff away for repair. This was quite appealing to my punk soul as I’m always driving around with nothing and often begging people servicing, food or taking the train home with a flat tyre.

My other friend Tomas, also a openminded guy, came up with the fact that he had ridden a super-riding race, supposedly some 321 Vabank for 320 km. He said it was snowing and drizzling, that they wouldn’t chase the dog away, but that it was good and he wanted to go again. I’m thinking, these are sick people. Sure I like to waste myself, but I didn’t pay attention to it until this year.

How the blind man came to the violin

The same year I let myself be persuaded by the two nutters to go with them to a race with an even more poetic name Cyklopuchejřr. That was the first time I experienced what it was like to bury my face in the ground with fatigue, what it was like to fall asleep behind the handlebars while riding and that when I see snakes moving in the woods at night, it’s just a hallucination and it’s not really a big deal.

Before Jura came up to me and said don’t be soft, come on 321 Vabank I was already signed up for 400 Ultra, which is another ultra food I already knew what was going on. What could be worse than the Cyklopuchejř where I spent 2 nights and pretty close to 40 hours. I’m signing up for the 321 Vabank right now and paying the entry fee so there’s no turning back.

Preparations for 321 Vabank

The whole build-up to 321 Vabank was a set-up. I hadn’t sat on the MTB yet this year. Although I had logged brutal volumes on snow throughout the skialp season and had run a few long races. But my legs have only spun less than two thousands on the road, but that doesn’t count 1:1 unfortunately.

So the day before I leave for Vabank I go to the garage, wash off about 4 months old dried mud from the winter ride. I top up the milk in the tires and inflate to my 25 PSI. I climb on the bike and discover with a sour face that there is something cracking in the frame. Oh, yeah, well, Vabank, I guess that’s gonna work.

The rules said something like, “No everything” So I took my backpack, where I stuffed my clothes, because I hear it’s supposed to be cold at night. I got wicks as an additional piece of optional equipment. What I’m forgetting though is any kind of inflating device. But as my close friend says a puncture is always a riding mistake and I don’t make those on principle, so what are we dealing with here?

Pre-start fever

The over-motivated Jura promises me the day before that he will give me a ride, but he says we mustn’t be late, so he just pulls up at the crossroads to Radlo and then what the hell? In the morning I forget my bidon. Thanks to the very ingenious Fidlock system, I now have a wide choice of different bidons to fit my bike. So I will be stopping for every mouthful and opening my backpack to save time.

On the way to Kovanec we both enjoy how beautiful it is and how much we enjoy it. We meet a lot of our friends in Kovanec and prepare our bikes. The handlebars went on the new extra chunky grips like into a mother. We enjoyed about 10 seconds until we got on the bike and found they were spinning about like a very productive mom. So fixing with American race grip tape is underway.

Everybody is shuffling into the starting corridor. While I´m being checked for the equipement I find a time-stained banana in the bowels of my backpack. It finally dawned on me what it actually smelled like at home for the last few months. Klára gives us information and I don’t know if her voice is shaking more or my knees. Everyone’s nervousness fades with a shot from the starting pistol.

321 Vabank

321 Vabank counts down Tomáš and it’s here the 120 headed snake gets moving. I love how nobody’s pushing, nobody’s going anywhere like in marathons. Everybody understands there’s plenty of time for heroism. Right at the start, Tomas punished us and gave us a warm-up section in the mud bath of Černý důl. As a bike should be ridden but if the wheels don’t turn over the mud?

I witnessed a few crashes and the first 20km were fast, but also in drift the whole time. It got dusty and somewhere before shallow, where it started to get dusty. Before Mělník I meet Petr Šifta as Milk squirts from his bike, but before long he overtakes me on soft rubber. He’s a hardcore guys and probably knows what he’s doing.

Historical heartbreaking Mělník

The first heartbreaking moment on the 321 Vabank race was before Mělník. A bunch of over-muscled ultra nuts standing obediently at a red light at an intersection. I join the group and together we ride up the hill to the centre. Šifťák finds his dream Bianchi shop, where he deftly repairs his flat tire. Some eager riders also stop for their first coffee and cake at the 40km mark.

The most exciting part took place during the slow passage through the historic centre in the peloton. People clapped, whistled and shouted with banners over their heads. Smoke bombs, chainsaws, cannons! I’m glad 321 Vabank has become a glorious celebration of cycling in our country like the Tour de France is in France. All the euphoria is drained by a short stop and a view of the confluence of the Vltava and Elbe rivers, a majestic landmark of the Czech Republic.

Going down the Mělník River and crossing the Josef Straka Bridge gave us a beautiful view of the historical Mělník from the river below. All this was happening with the sound of several strong bells tolling noon. The road continued along the “Laternal Canal”, where I was again overtaken by a strong Šifťák with fresh wind in his tires.

Dolnooharska Blackboard – highlight of Vabank

For me the most beautiful section between Mělník and Most. A very rideable, fast section leading through slightly undulating terrain on dirt roads, forgotten roads through beautiful villages and breathtaking nature. The scorching sun drives us all up over the slopes of Mount Říp! Then through Mšenné-lázně to the next checkpont in Louny.

Tomáš and Klárka could not have prepared anything more poetic for us than the obligatory stop at the family brewery Zichovec. And not because we could eat here for free just because we are racers. Above all, because in front of the brewery there is a bicycle sculpture, towering from afar, perhaps 8m high. There was also a witch burning ceremony in the brewery. Well, so we had to send a few pieces of beer and also push a pickled cheese into the stomach.

At Zíchovec we also met the well-known Robin Příhoda, organizer of a similar silly event called Cyklopuchejř. We chat about being alcoholics and I register with him personally for Cyklouchejř for this year. There’s no time to waste, so I take one more beer and get on my bike with a butchered ass, and we’re through!

Velodrom, Raná and Lake Most

I was convinced that 321 Vabank is for the general public and that it is a very colourful and diverse race at the very next attraction. This was none other than the Loun Velodrome. The obligatory two laps on the velodrome with added value. The Strava segment! Whoever puts in the best lap gets a bonus. Unfortunately, I was glad we didn’t waste myself on the inclined flat and somehow after 120 km I didn’t feel like getting out of the saddle and rubbing segments in there anymore. I better ask the local maintenance guy for chain oil to get me riding like butter again.

Another natural beauty awaited me and for me probably the most beautiful place of the whole race 321 Vabank. The scenic lookout point Raná with a height of 457m. A triple hill and lookout point that is the centre of paragliding in North Bohemia. One of the few points where we paraglided the bike on foot rather than going out. But mostly the 360 degree view was worth any effort.

After this excited rush, it was just rocket ride to Most, where the reward was actually waiting for me. I had a clue here. My cousin Kaja, I primarily wanted to sleep at her flat, but we said I would be a coward not to go through with it. As you can say, I broke the rules a bit when I used it as a delivery service to Lake Most. Hot kebab, homemade buns, coffee, cola. Supplies for the night. Thanks, Kája! We put on what we could, played with Hugo the dog by the lake for about an hour and then immediately took the remnants of my ego in hand and headed off for the harder part of the race.

Industial until Bílina

The sun fell behind the horizon and suddenly it wasn’t so shiny anymore. I was driving alone in a no-man’s-land of industrial conveyors and pipes. Every now and then a fox or a rabbit would cross the road. No one anywhere, just silence. Wandering around opencast mines, we ended with an unintentional descent into one of them. Luckily the GPS stopped me, but Garmin doesn’t work well in this strange depressing place.

On the hill to Jezeří, a group of milers overtook me. Together we cursed at Tomáš while carrying bikes over some fallen trees and banging our bikes into the unchristian screes. They said there would only be one shitty section on the course, though, so we hoped it was this one. Vrána and Jech and other guys with whom we were continuously overtaking from Jezeří, past Chemopetrol Litvínov to Bílina. This stretch in the dark was probably interesting, but I just perceived the cold, where the thermometer showed 2 degrees Celsius and constant pain in my right knee.

On the descent from Litvínov back to Jezero Most, I think that the offer of a night in a dog bed at my cousin’s place is actually not such a bad alternative and that it’s probably not that far away After all, by that time I have some 180km in my legs. I tell myself that it’s only 150 to the finish line and keep going.

I’m gonna put on what I can in the white stuff at the gas station. I’m meeting up with the milers again and we’re eating up what we can fit. Sausages, chocolates, coffee. Some of the less equipped buy newspapers for their jackets as an extra layer of insulation. The more daring ones even begged a branded MOL jacket from the petrolstation lady which cheered me up and brought me back to reality.

Dysfunctional stomach, minus temperatures and microsleeps

After the petrol station I feel like we are going but the reality was pretty hard. Right at the hill after Bilina I meet a racer who says he got a flat tire and that 321 Vabank is strict and that he has no tricks to fix it and that he will have to quit. Well, he was shivering cold and I felt sorry for him, but I was also riding Vabank all the time and we had nothing to help him, so after a short discussion we had to go on and leave him at the mercy of the Bílina gypsies.

It’s like all the guts in my body are twisting, I’m lacking energy, but somehow my legs keep going. Every moment I want to poop and eat at the same time, and I know my stomach won’t take it. I’m just pushing chocolate bars regularly and washing it down with a coke which is a great combination. I actually go all day on kebabs, chocolate bagels and about 5 litres of coke so far. Sport for health!

It is only Mr. Vrana who gets me out of this whole crisis, who is also stitched up in the hills. Vrána cursed like a starling that he doesn’t give a shit about night races and that it’s not healthy and how he’s sick of it and that he said only multiday races and so we hit it off. Gradually we went from swearing to talking about bikes and how great it was to have a Pivot bike that sounded like Pivo actually. Eventually we actually agreed that we like the bikes. I don’t even know where I’d been or what I’d seen but suddenly I could see Terezín and Litomeřice at 250km.

Power nap rulez!!!

Sure, it’ll be fine when it gets light. So say the experienced. It’s happened to me a few times on ultra runs. But not now! The dawn was breaking and the sun was already climbing up but somewhere before the already named indicating clod place of Zimoř it was about minus 2 degrees. After a few micro-sleeps I found my bus stop. I huddled in what I had and didn’t have and pulled my jacket over my head. So I climbed off the bike and made my bed at the bus stop. I counted how many seconds it would be before I fell asleep, but the hallucinatory dreaming came before I started.

I don’t know how long it was maybe about 10 minutes after I fell asleep when a woman came to the bus stop to walk the dog. He started licking my face, so I’m done with the morning hygiene. I’m screaming eww! and turn on my side, like I’m gonna keep sleeping, but I couldn’t. I jump on the bike and, dude! It rocks! It really took that little bit and I flew like a rocket out of Gaza!

Úštěk stairs, Holany, Mácháč and Bezděz in speed

I ran up the stairs in the sun like Van Aert in cyclocross. Some old castle named Helfenburg was flying around with nothing but bike sand. Holany 300w steady output! The Powernap kicked me up tremendously and the last 60km or so was a blast. Croissant and coffee at the gas station in Jestřebí and then I was off to the finish!

I overtake two racers in front of the lake Macháč and on the hill on the slopes of Bezděz I pass a group of mile-milers Jech, Vrána. I’m having a great time every time I pedal. I don’t know what that dog had in his saliva, but I want more! I’m averaging about 18 km/h in the last dozen kilometers before the finish line, which we didn’t even have at the start. Just telling myself now not to fuck it up and catch a puncture – it’s a riding mistake after all. I’m enjoying 321 Vabank like a little boy!

Somewhere in the forest behind Bezděz, my dad joins me. He probably thought that we would stop and talk, but I yell at him from a distance in the aero position “go, go, go, they are chasing me!” Probably some paranoia from exhaustion… We’re hooked together like we’re doing a time trial. Honestly though, he’s dehonesting me on the hill to Kovánec, even at 62 😀 The fighter doesn’t have 330km in his legs.

Finish straight 321 Vabank, women, wine and party.

Reaching the finishing arc is always an euphoria. I was pleasantly surprised by the friendly attitude of all the organizers. They patiently listened to my knowledge and asked additional questions. At the finish line, of course, I don’t reveal any of my stepping over the rule line or any of my suffering. A beautiful original 321 Vabank race medal made from a bicycle tire hangs around my neck. All the fun took me just under 26 hours and showed 328km with an elevation gain of about 4.5km.

The atmosphere, warmth and fun in the finish area is so great that I stay until the evening. I drink about half a barrel of Zíchovc beer and as is my habit I am supposedly making a disgrace. Despite the fatigue I can’t judge. All I remember is playing football across the finish arch with the organiser´s kids and my own, who came to see what a nutter his dad was.

Bottom line. The 321 Vabank race is definitely for the general public. Light, short, easy terrain with negligible elevation gain. Suitable for virtually all ages and families. Disabled and pensioners have a discount on the entry fee, so what to wait for. The organizers are absolutely warm and friendly. We felt at home! Next year I pray that 321 Vabank will be again as it was a super lovely experience. Thanks to the entire Vabank Mafia!