30th Anniversary of the Sled Dog Race Ledová Jízda 2025. A Heartwarming Gathering of soulmates. The race was marked by a battle for every second on the track, but it also brought plenty of positive emotions and unforgettable experiences thanks to the excellent organization. Last but not least, it all came together perfectly, thanks to the fantastic weather that Krakonoš prepared for us in 2025.
Meditation and Preparations
Ledové Jízda is a race where participation is vital, non-negotiable, and therefore mandatory. With Aleš Schejbal, my longtime partner and an excellent musher, we never explicitly agree in advance to participate. Going to the Ice Ride is as obvious as the sun rising in the morning.
Preparations for the race actually begin at the end of the previous one – analyzing what happened, identifying mistakes, figuring out improvements, and working on them. After three years of racing with Aleš, we’ve gained a lot of experience and advanced both technically and mentally, so we have high expectations for this year’s event.
A broken ski in the first stage, dogs fighting, and finishing with only eight left—these were the dark shadows of last year’s 29th Ledová Jízda. This time, we put all last year’s misfortunes behind us and started over again, completely stress-free. Sure, I forgot my headlamp, skijoring belt, and sleeping mat, but Aleš covered the essentials, and there was plenty of hay to replace the mat.
The event initially looked promising. Sixteen teams had registered, promising an exciting chase. However, as race day approached, the number of participants reduced until only nine remained. This year, Jirka Vondrák, who had dominated first place for the last ten years, was absent. That increased our chances of finally surpassing our previous best result – second place. However, our optimism has quickly tempered by the presence of a top-tier Polish musher with extensive international experience in major stage races. This intimidating competitor, who made us feel like underdogs, was none other than Łukasz Paczyński.
First Stage of 30th Ledová Jízda
The 30th Ledová Jízda traditionally starts in the center of Pec pod Sněžkou. The start in Pec is the showcase of the race, with plenty of spectators cheering enthusiastically. All nine teams set off one by one at five-minute intervals. To increase excitement, the teams start in order of estimated speed, from the slowest to the fastest, ensuring plenty of overtaking and critical moments. I don’t understand why we’re starting last.
Zapřaháme psy, dáváme rychlé pivo, high five a jdeme na start. Rychle se ještě navzájem ujistíme o tom, že trať vede “jako vždycky” (což se ukazuje později jako chyba). Psi skáčou dva metry vysoko a řvou radostí, že se pojede. My s nimi sice nadšení sdílíme, ale poskakování si necháme na večer do hospody. 3-2-1-GO! Je to tady všech deset bestií vyrazí kupředu obrovskou rychlostí, mě se do špeků zaryje pás, lupne mi v páteři a jsme v závodu. Hned po prvních pár set metrů Aleš ztrácí rukavici a je odsouzen k řízení indisponovaný ztuhlou rukou. Tradičně v první stoupání k Pražské boudě není moc času si povídat o ženskejch a životě, tepovka vystřelí na 180 a drží se v podobných hodnotách až ke Kolínské.
We harness the dogs, drink a quick beer, high-five, and head to the start. We just briefly review the route: yes, the route is “as always” (which later proves to be a mistake). The dogs are leaping two meters high, barking with joy, eager to start. We share their excitement but save our jumping for the evening at the pub. 3-2-1-GO! We’re off! All ten beasts launch forward at full speed, the belt cuts into my gut, my spine pops, and we’re in the race. Just a few hundred meters in, Aleš loses a glove and is doomed to steer with a freezing hand. As usual, in the first climb to Pražská Bouda, there’s no time for chatting about women and life – heart rate skyrockets to 180 and stays there until Kolínská.
Cold Reality and Ego crash
At Václavák, we turn right into the first loop, heading under Zrcadla toward Černý Důl. As always, I unclip and overenthusiastically double pole ahead of the dogs, zooming down Luční Svážnice. Unfortunately, we make a crucial mistake, missing a red marker and confidently continuing straight. I spot the first dog team coming towards us. “Idiots, they’re going the wrong way,” I think. I keep pushing forward. Then another team approaches from the opposite direction. “No way, this can’t be right!” The third oncoming team confirms my worst fear. When I cautiously ask if we or they are wrong, they calmly reply, “We’re on the right track.”
That sour moment when you realize you’ve extremely screwed up. Stomach tight, cold sweat, dry throat—NOOOO! I slam on the brakes and turn back uphill, fighting the incline. At the top, I see a jammed-up mess of sleds and barking dogs… and not just the dogs. Aleš, red as the marker we missed, is shouting every curse word imaginable. Wordlessly, I remove my skis and turn Hardy around. Poor dog—he was following the path correctly but still got kicked.
We lost 16 minutes with that mistake. A bitter blow, and our motivation was gone. The Ice Ride was in jeopardy. We knew then that winning was out of the question. We’d be lucky to even get among first top 3. For the next half hour, we barely spoke.
Couple of crashes, Turn to bouda Racek and finish
Another mishap happened right behind the transmitter on Sokol, where the dogs also decided it was pointless and switched to autopilot, heading home to Bouda Racek. Unfortunately, they wouldn’t respond to commands, and even the anchor didn’t help. So, I moved to the front to try steering manually. For a moment, it seemed to work, but as soon as I let go of the leaders, they all trampled me, the sled ran over me, and I lost my headlamp. Great! After about two full 360-degree spins, we finally got back on track.
One would think that was enough bad luck for a single stage. We were also hoping nothing else would come our way as we sped through Plynovodní towards Desítka. We then efficiently navigated the hairpin turn onto the supply trail and rocketed down towards Hříběcí Boudy. There, we tackled another loop, featuring a brutally demanding climb that was definitely not made for double poling.
The second loop was technically very challenging for both mushers and skiers. But I had to admit that, by now, we had both learned a lot, and we handled it like pros. After all, you can’t really train for navigating these hills on skis and a sled anywhere else. No one in their right mind would voluntarily take skis onto a one-meter-wide forest trail, full of frozen snowmobile tracks, littered with droppings, with rocks sticking out, and then go hurtling down at 25-30 km/h while attached to a rope… Oh, and did I mention it was pitch dark? This is no pampered Jizerská 50. But hey, cross-country skiers just get pulled along by the rope the whole time anyway, right?
The final stretch led back along the supply trail towards Desítka and then in the direction of Tetřeví Boudy. However, when we reached Tetřeví Boudy, where the bivouac and support station were supposed to be, Karel sent us into one more small loop below Tetřevky. Luckily, this wasn’t too demanding just a way to rack up some extra kilometers. In the end, we finished the first stage in a surprising 2nd place, with a gap of just under 7 minutes behind Łukasz Paczyński.
Feed, pray, penalize, and romance under the stars.
The end of the day went as usual. Dig graves for the dogs, cover them with straw, feed and dose up the boys so they’d be in the best shape in the morning. Just like every Ledová Jízda, with the difference that this year, Krakonoš was really on our side – dry weather, no extreme cold, no wind. Simply ideal conditions for a bivouac and pure relaxation. It didn’t even feel like Ledovka to me, and what really didn’t was the fact that we were allowed inside Tetřeví Boudy, where liters of beer, garlic soup, and sirloin with ten dumplings were waiting for us. Kobradera really nailed this, and I bow to him. That’s the moment when I realized—this was going to be a nice vacation.
Even though a 7-minute gap didn’t sound too bad—and after that disaster at the start, we actually believed we could make up the time in the next stages—we still feared Łukasz and had great respect for him. Luckily, the organizing team understood our concerns without telling them and penalized Łukasz and Anička’s team with a 5-minute penalty. The explanation was that they allegedly had their bivouac gear transported by snowmobile. Unfortunately, Łukasz’s large sleds didn’t arrive, so he had to race with sprint sleds, but still. No matter how this ends, the gap mustn’t be within 5 minutes to avoid doubts or bad blood. This makes the race even more exciting because now it’s really down to seconds—we’re only 1 minute and 52 seconds behind the leader.
I think the other teams enjoyed it as well. Right behind us finished the highly experienced team of Martin Řehout and Marian Kdýr. The mixed team of Venca and Zdeňka Zetkovi arrived fourth. Other teams also made it to the finish and sealed their satisfaction with liters of beer flowing until two in the morning. I think it was a great Ledová Jízda for everyone.
Stage Two – Sun, Light, Warmth, and a Stage Win!
I have to thank Martin, who categorically forbid us from attending the evening festivity with Bořek’s accordion. He knew all too well how the race would turn out if we got caught up in the cycle of spirits. Even so, we don’t wake up feeling completely fresh, and there’s a bit of a headache. The poor dogs haven’t recovered much either; they’re lying around, pretending they don’t exist. Luckily, Aleš diligently keeps them hydrated and lets me sleep until eight. A big plus of the whole morning is that we wake up to a beautiful, sunny day. So, team by team, we slowly make our way to the start, and as always, the race will begin from the slowest to the fastest.
Here we go. Karel sends us into the first loop under Tetřevky, and what can I say—it’s breathtaking. On the way back from the loop, we pass Lukasz and Anička, and both look just as motivated. Everything suggests it’s going to be a fierce battle. Heading uphill along the gas pipeline, things are still running reasonably well, but we can feel that the snow is starting to get wet, and it won’t be the same Ice Ride as yesterday. The dogs also haven’t fully recovered in such a short time and are running slower than they did yesterday.
No problem passing around Bouda Racek, and we begin the climb toward Pražská bouda. On the road under Zrcadla, we’re finally going the right way, but we see something unusual. Jana Hellerová’s team is sprawled sideways across the wide path. Jana is covered in snow from head to toe. Zdenda is thrown into a deep ditch, trying to claw his way back onto the track. Apparently, some tiny rat dog, terrified for its life, leaped into the forest, dragging Jana’s entire team along with it. The dog’s owners just stand there, jaw-dropped, watching the chaos unfold, of course not lifting a finger to help. Janča has to pull everything out of the ditch herself. Luckily, everyone is safe and sound—only we lost valuable minutes.
Wet Snow and Sand snow in the Second Half
On the way back after first 10 kilometers, we overtook one team after another. We even managed to draft behind a sled team in a section that’s critical for us—right behind the transmitter on Sokol. We slid through nicely and then raced down the gas pipeline back to Desítka. Pretty chill, actually—a beautiful trip the whole way. A bit of a grind uphill, heart rate at 170, but still nice. Going uphill, we caught up with Martin Řehout and Marian and stuck within sight of them for several kilometers through the loop above Hříběcí. The dogs started to fade a bit on the steep climb, and honestly, so did I.
At the supply route uphill, the snow had turned into a crusty, sandy mess, and the whole climb became a test of sheer willpower – a kind of porno-romantic struggle through the sludge. It felt like pure suffering, and the dogs really weren’t in the mood to work hard. It felt like we were stopping every kilometer for a million different reasons. Sabotaging and shitting on Radek’s track was reason number one. Pissing on it—reason number two. Then just general entanglements and eating snow. I admire Aleš for how he regularly handles these situations with an ice-cold soul and a furious roar. He yells at the dogs, calling them idiots for getting tangled and stopping to relieve themselves. Sometimes, I get scared myself—tail tucked—hoping I don’t have an accident at the wrong moment…
Finish counted on seconds
Somehow, in an incomprehensible way, despite our regular stops, we managed to lose contact with Řehoutík. But where are Lukasz and Anička? In the heavy, wet snow melting under the sharp sun, we slowly make our way down the ten-kilometer stretch, where Karlík, the timekeeper, sends us for one more lap. As we emerge from the forest, we shout to the people around us: “Has the Pole passed already???” And they say yes! “It’s lost,” we say to ourselves. But then, on the straightaway ahead, we suddenly see Lukasz and Anička—only now heading into their second loop. Oh, he passed, but it wasn’t the Pole—just Martin with Marian.
At the moment we cross the finish line of the second stage of the Ledová Jízda, I start the stopwatch. So what? Will it be more or less than the five-minute difference between teams at the start??? In the distance, I see Lukasz’s sled approaching. Time is running, my heart is pounding, and it beats even harder as the stopwatch exceeds five minutes. So, will it be over seven, and will we get to first place? And then—Lukasz crosses the finish line at 5:58. Yes, we won the stage, but by less than a minute over 36 kilometers. What An unbelievable day!
Ledová Jízda and culture around
The fact that this year’s Ledová Jízda race is unique and exceptionally well-organized has been recognized by spectators, organizers, and racers alike. I had a feeling it would be special just from reading the race details. Martin and his organizing team did a truly fantastic job. In the old days, you could face disqualification just for stepping into a heated space. I remember editions where we shivered in a freezing tent with cold beer and thick soup with hard bread. Outside, it was either pouring rain or snowing, and if we dared to sit in the car and turn on the heater, we risked a penalty. A lot has changed.
Stripping down to your underwear in a luxurious restaurant and choosing from several options on a three-course menu? Drinking expensive Scotch at a marble bar and nibbling on French cheese? Where are we? So, I pinched myself several times, and when I didn’t wake up, I drank like it was my last chance! The highlight of the evening was undoubtedly the cinema. Two films—one about ManMat and another, a compilation of footage from Ledová Jízda spanning from its origins to 2010. A truly touching moment.
Thank you, Martin, for giving us such a wonderful vacation, where worldly problems simply don’t exist.
3rd Stage – Leodvá Jízda on full gas
Morning again with snow and clear blue skies—pure weather porn. No time to waste, we pack the suitcase and load it onto the sled. Water the dogs, and at 9:30, we’re at the start! This time, we start second to last again. The route is exactly the same as yesterday, except the snow is much harder, and we blast up the first ten kilometers at supersonic speed. On the downhill from the Desítka towards the supply route, Aleš tips the sled over and loses his goggles. This whole situation is pretty amusing. Seeing him dragged on his stomach through the shit of other dogs completely breaks me to laugh. Finally, I’m not the only one rolling in excrement. Skillfully, I turn back to pick up his stuff while he continues his fight for win. When I catch up with him, he says he broke the sled tower. To me, the sled looks fine and is moving just fine, so what’s the big deal?
In the loop above Hříběcí and Hanapetr, just before the notorious climb, we manage to overtake all the teams. We knew this would probably be the turning point where poor Łukasz would get stuck in a mess of dogs, while we could climb at our own pace. A small hope kept pushing us forward deep inside. Ála is complaining that he can’t turn, but in my opinion, he’s doing just fine. After the supply route, going uphill and over the ten-kilometer stretch, we’re flying at an insane speed. At this moment, we have an average speed of over 18 km/h, which is two more than yesterday. No talking, just pure focus!
An Act of Higher Power and the Ledová Jízda to the Finish
It’s Monday, and no one is around—it’s time to go all in! Gas Pipeline, Pražská, and Zrcadla in top gear. No stopping, no falling, just going! The dogs are running flawlessly, and so are we. We start to worry about the turn at Pražská towards Vebrovy Boudy. Our dogs have never gone that way before and will surely head home instead. And of course, they do—straight ahead, damn it! I think to myself, this will end up down in Pec. But God is on our side! Suddenly, a person appears on the trail, glowing like a saint, dazzling us with light. Suddenly, warmth spreads through our bodies as they grab the leaders by the scruff and guide them back onto the right path. Coincidence or an act of higher power?
And from there, it was pure reward. The downhill past Vebrovy Boudy along a wide trail through Javořák to the finish. Adrenaline mixed with euphoria. Will we make it? Aleš checks the GPS tracking and shouts: “Łukasz is still lost somewhere in the middle of nowhere!” We cross the finish line, and Martin immediately grabs us on his snowmobile and takes us under Javor to the lift to drop off the dogs. So, we don’t have a chance to check who is where or who actually won. But when the first one to arrive is master Řehout with Marian, we already have an unofficial answer.
Explosions of Euphoria and the Awards Ceremony in the Center of Pec pod Sněžkou
On the way to Bouda Racek in the snowcat, we’re still a bit slowed down and haven’t fully processed everything. We rest. After all, we don’t officially know… well, actually, we do. 🙂 We feed the dogs and put them to rest. The boys did an amazing job and were undoubtedly the biggest heroes in the Krkonoše today. But the real euphoria kicks in later in the kitchen at Bouda Racek, where we toast slivovice with Bára and Verča and look for the best place to put the traveling trophy. It’s official! We are the champions!
The awards ceremony takes place in the same spot where we started three days ago, under the Javor slope. Three days ago, we wouldn’t have believed it, but now it’s clear! The organizers set up a makeshift podium, and after the congratulations to us and everyone else, we climb the final peak of the day and lift the trophy of the 30th annual Ice Ride 2025 above our heads!
Dream Results
The battle was brutal, and thanks to both our mistakes and the mistakes of other teams, this race was truly exciting. It’s impossible to say that it was decided from the start, as we’ve been used to for the last ten years. Sure, some might argue that Jirka Vondrák wasn’t here, and that he would have wiped the floor with us and humiliated us in his usual start-to-finish style, erasing us into the annals of history. There’s probably some truth to that, but we’re already looking forward to next year when Jirka will be back!
So, how did it end? Everyone was great, and anyone who finished should be happy because people come here for the experience above all else. Yeah, we won, but Łukasz Paczyński and Anička Konopáčová didn’t make it easy for us, and we spent the whole race scared they would catch us somewhere. Unfortunately, they had trouble with their dogs and ran the last stage with only nine, even carrying one on the sled, so effectively running with eight. Anička also had problems with her bindings. Otherwise, we probably wouldn’t be celebrating that much.
Ledová Jízda 2025 – Everyone Finished!
The third-place team was also a highly experienced duo: Martin Řehout and Marian Kdýr. These guys are regulars at the Ledová Jízda and beyond. They maintained a steady, solid performance both on the track and in the pub. Fourth place went to the Zetek family – always smiling, experienced team full of jokes and sarcasm, a crew we’ll remember for a long time. Then Dáda and Bořek—true heart-and-soul racers and musicians without whom the Ice Ride would be silent and lacking a shared bottle. The Hanuš family—who have likely started as many Ice Ride races as I am years old—deserve only respect. Lukáš Tomášek and Lukáš Marešovský are hardcore northerners who never miss out on the fun. Jana Hellerová and Zdena Pospíšil have also racked up dozens of starts and would finish even if it didn’t snow that year. Last but not least, with enormous respect, Tomáš Voříšek and Ondra Pelikán with their nine Czech Mountain Dogs proved that the old ways still work.
Big thanks to Ice Mafia
In the end, I want to thank all the organizers—I won’t name names them because we all know who pulled the strings and made the 30th anniversary so special, ensuring that the Ice Ride didn’t die out, as it seemed it might in some past years. So, thank you, Martin! Thanks to everyone on the track, especially Radek, who not only built the trail but also picked up the dog crap afterward. Karel with the stopwatch and OniSystem with the GPS tracking also played crucial roles, making sure we always knew exactly where everyone was and how long it took. Thanks to all the helpers, especially from MC Metuje, who always come and massively boost the value and atmosphere of the whole race. And of course, a huge thanks to the Musher’s Club Krakonoš and all its members for their support. Honza Chlum too!
Sponsors are a chapter of their own. Without them, this probably wouldn’t happen. Some gave money – once word spreads that there’s cash, people will come from Canada! Others provided valuable gear – now I won’t have to buy clothes or lights for a year. And some gave not just money but also emotion and heart. So, thanks to everyone, and let’s start looking forward to next year, to another battle of sharp teeth, sleds, and skis!
Ledová Jízda 2025 in media:
Trutnovinky – Byl jsem zralý na ručník, ale pak jsem cítil, že to dokážeme
Krkonošský deník – Výhra pro mushera z Pece. Posádky psích spřežení zdolaly přes sto kilometrů
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