There are journeys that begin at a precisely defined point A and end at point B. And then there are those where you more or less know where you are going, but you don’t really know what will happen along the way.

This one definitely belonged to the second category.

Ten days, more than 1,300 kilometers, over 8,000 meters of elevation gain, the northern and eastern reaches of Poland, Roztocze, Podlasie, Polesie, the Świętokrzyskie Mountains, and finally Jasna Góra. Along the way: castles, Orthodox churches, basilicas, traces of synagogues, airports, blueberry buns, ramen, Zamość-style tripe, sękacz, mosquitoes, wind, heat, a brake failure, a delayed train, a ferry that wasn’t running, and even… a railway bridge.

.

But above all, there were people, landscapes, and moments that simply could not have been planned.

Because that was precisely what this journey was about.

⸻

Day 1. Korsze – Ołownik: A Journey Without End

84 km | 688 m elevation gain

I set off with the assumption that, this time, I didn’t even know exactly where the journey would begin or end. Once, that kind of lack of planning would probably have made me anxious. Today, it gives me a sense of freedom.

And on the very first day, life decided to test whether I was really as flexible as I thought I was. The train from Toruń to Olsztyn was seriously delayed, so I had to change my starting point.

And that was, in a way, the beginning of the most important lesson of the entire journey: having a plan is good, but knowing when to abandon it is even better.

Instead of rushing to stick to my original plans at all costs, I decided to give myself time to actually experience the journey. Because bikepacking isn’t a race against a map.

Poland was only just beginning to show me what it had to offer.

⸻

Day 2. Ołownik – Rajgród: Blueberries, a Pyramid and the Masurian Taiga

152 km | 1,297 m elevation gain

The second day showed that northeastern Poland can be surprisingly “mountainous.”

Rapa, the pyramid of the von Fahrenheid family, the rolling hills of Garbate Mazury, Gołdap, Romincka Forest, the viaducts at Stańczyki, and the Rospuda Valley. And between all of that: forests, lakes, ripening grain, and storks preparing to migrate south.

There was even a wedding gate. Actually, two of them. Fortunately, the newlyweds had something with which to “pay” for passage, so the cyclist could slip through on the side.

Stańczyki was slightly disappointing because of the commercialization, but all I had to do was ride a little farther to find myself once again in a world where the most important event was the light reflected off the surface of a lake.

And then there was the Rospuda Valley.

And Jaśki, where I had to sing “Sto lat” to the youngest son, Jaś.

Spontaneity was beginning to beat planning

⸻

Day 3. Rajgród – Suraż: When Nature Says “Slow Down”

137.5 km | 540 m elevation gain

Something more important than covering another hundred-odd kilometers happened that day.

I decided to take the longer route so I could spend more time in Biebrza National Park. The old me would probably have chosen the shorter option and tried to ride 300 or 400 kilometers.

The new me said, “Why?”

And I’m glad I listened.

The Biebrza wilderness completely swallowed me, both literally and figuratively. The bike danced across the wetlands, one hand tried to keep control of the handlebars, while the other filmed with my phone. Meanwhile, nettles and other assorted bushes decided to personally test the resilience of my legs.

Fortunately, the insect repellent worked.

It was one of those moments when you realize that there is a difference between simply “ticking off” a place and actually experiencing it.

You can ride along Łosiostrada.

Or you can get a little lost in the wilderness and come back with the feeling that something truly important has happened.

I chose the second option.

⸻

Day 4. Suraż – Janów Podlaski: Headwinds, Blueberry Buns and the Ghost Ferry

147 km | 924 m elevation gain

A headwind straight in my face. A scorching day. A ferry that doesn’t operate on Mondays.

A classic day for a traveler who has decided not to plan.

Święta Góra Grabarka, with its thousands of votive crosses, was on the route, but the real discovery of the day turned out to be… two blueberry buns.

Somewhere around kilometer 80, hunger caught up with me. I saw an advertisement for blueberry buns. The stand was empty. I rode on. Then common sense — or perhaps greed — told me to turn back.

And thank goodness I did.

I met Iza and her family, was invited into their home, and suddenly an ordinary food stop turned into one of the warmest encounters of the entire journey.

Two blueberry buns became fuel for the next nearly 70 kilometers.

And then there was the ferry.

Out of service.

There was a detour. The possibility of crossing via a railway bridge. A warning that it might be dangerous.

And another story that could never have been invented sitting at a desk.

A classic day for a traveler who has

Święta Góra Grabarka, with its thousands of votive crosses, was on the route, but the real discovery of the day turned out to be… two blueberry buns.

Somewhere around kilometer 80, hunger caught up with me. I saw an advertisement for blueberry buns. The stand was empty. I rode on. Then common sense — or perhaps greed — told me to turn back.

And thank goodness I did.

I met Iza and her family, was invited into their home, and suddenly an ordinary food stop turned into one of the warmest encounters of the entire journey.

Two blueberry buns became fuel for the next nearly 70 kilometers.

And then there was the ferry.

Out of service.

There was a detour. The possibility of crossing via a railway bridge. A warning that it might be dangerous.

And another story that could never have been invented sitting at a desk.

⸻

Day 5. Janów Podlaski – Sobibór: Horses, Borders and Human Emotions

123 km | 544 m elevation gain

Janów Podlaski meant one thing, of course: Arabian horses.

The famous stud farm, huge sums of money, and horses whose value can make an ordinary cyclist’s head spin. It is enough to mention the record prices achieved by some horses at auctions.

This time, however, it was the animals themselves that impressed me more than the money.

Their grace, movement, elegance.

Along the way there were also places of worship representing different religious traditions: Kostomłoty, Kodeń, and the beautiful Basilica of St. Anne. I reflected on the fact that clergy are simply people too — sometimes warm and kind, sometimes less so.

And finally, Siedlisko Sobibór.

And here the atmosphere changed.

Because some places are not merely somewhere to spend the night. They are an experience.

⸻

Day 6. Sobibór – Potoczek: Good Places Are Created by People

140.6 km | 1,071 m elevation gain

Siedlisko Sobibór became one of the discoveries of the journey.

Not only because it was beautiful, peaceful, and delicious. Above all, because I met Ewa — the person who created the place together with her team.

A conversation, shared values, curiosity about another human being.

And another realization: a place can be beautiful, but it is people who give it a soul.

Then came Chełm, the basilica on Górka, the teddy bears that seem to be everywhere in the city, and finally Zamość.

And Zamość at sunset is almost unfair competition for the rest of Poland.

There was Zamość-style tripe, meringue, and coffee, but once again, the greatest dessert turned out to be the sunset.

There were also airports, airplanes, and the fascination of a pilot who, even on a cycling trip, simply cannot ride past a runway without stopping to take notice.

⸻

Day 7. Potoczek – Łańcut: Kora, Cycling Zen and “A Little Church”

130 km | 726 m elevation gain

Roztocze was beginning to work its magic on me more and more.

Passing through Bliżów, I found myself in an area associated with Kora. Instead of looking for her house, however, I decided to respect her privacy and simply absorb the atmosphere of the place.

I think that is a good metaphor for the entire journey: you don’t have to see, photograph, and tick off everything. Some things are enough to simply feel.

Then came Zagroda Guciów, an unexpected breakfast, conversations with the hosts, and handicrafts.

Then Biłgoraj, washing the bike, and some thoughts about equipment.

Because a good bike doesn’t ride for you, but a bad one can very effectively convince you to stay at home.

Then Leżajsk, the Bernardine basilica, and the Ohel of Tzadik Elimelech.

And there, amid all that history, religion, and centuries-old tradition, one sentence stayed with me:

“God, let us see only the good in our fellow human beings.”

It would be hard to ask for a better souvenir from a cycling journey.

⸻

Day 8. Łańcut – Baranów Sandomierski: From Aristocrat to Cyclist

100 km | 431 m elevation gain

That day, you could almost feel like a nobleman.

One castle in the morning, another in the evening. In between, Poland viewed from the saddle.

Łańcut impressed with its opulence. The palace interiors were a reminder that people knew how to live “large” in the old days, too.

Then Jasionka and the awareness that, somewhere in the background of this peaceful cycling journey, there was the reality of war. Aircraft, aid for Ukraine, Patriot systems.

And then something very simple again: children in rural villages saying “good morning.”

A small gesture that has become almost exotic in a big city.

In the evening, another castle — Baranów Sandomierski.

And with it, a Spanish-Polish family, a conversation in Spanish, and a brain that, after a full day of cycling, seemed to be demanding a vacation of its own.

I was also beginning to think more seriously about the end of the journey.

Above all, I was missing sleep.

Because you can have strong legs, a good bike, and a great route, but a person without sleep starts to resemble a poorly charged battery.

⸻

Day 9. Baranów Sandomierski – Kielce: When an Ordinary Road Becomes Paradise

122.3 km | 1,065 m elevation gain

A good night’s sleep and suddenly the world looks different.

Today’s route didn’t look particularly special on paper. Yet the first 30 kilometers turned out to be one of the most beautiful parts of the journey.

Orchards, apple trees, flowers, small towns, and roadside wayside shrines.

My father, who once showed a group of Russians from the Soviet era around Poland, reportedly answered their questions about the roadside religious figures with:

“That’s a little church.”

And actually, it would be hard to find a better description.

Then suddenly a group of motorcyclists appeared, putting on a show that looked like their own private Grand Prix.

And a moment later, there was a harvest festival procession in Klimontów.

As if someone had deliberately arranged the successive scenes of a movie.

There were technical problems too. The rear brake started losing pressure, and after leaving the bike in the sun, it apparently decided to retire early.

Finally, Kielce.

And the question:

What next?

⸻

Day 10. Kielce – Częstochowa: An Ending That Wasn’t in the Plan

136 km | 918 m elevation gain

Ten days earlier, I didn’t know where this journey would begin.

Now I knew where it would end.

But before that happened, something symbolic occurred.

After about 30 kilometers, a message from Marek appeared on my Garmin:

“Ride, Wojtek, ride!”

As if someone had pressed the “play” button one last time.

Over ten days, I visited places important to Catholics, Orthodox Christians, Eastern Catholics, and Jews. I admired nature, castles, churches, and ordinary Polish villages. Sometimes I prayed silently, sometimes I simply rode in silence.

The kilometers passed.

And then Jasna Góra appeared.

Not Końskie, where the Green Velo route ends. Not some random point on the map.

Jasna Góra.

A place where I could give thanks for the journey, for safety, for the people I had met, and for all those moments that could never have been planned.

There was still St. Anne’s along the way — as if someone from above was reminding me to take care of the final stretch.

And then something extraordinary happened.

I had arrived from the east.

My wife had come from the west.

We met beneath Jasna Góra almost exactly at the same moment.

At 3:00 p.m.

At the Hour of Mercy.

And a moment later, it started to rain.

As if Poland were saying:

“Okay. That’s enough. Now you can go home.”

⸻

Epilogue. Poland That Cannot Be Ridden Through on a Shortcut

This journey was supposed to be a cycling tour around Poland.

It turned out to be something more.

It was a journey through landscapes, history, religion, food, chance encounters, and my own habits.

Over ten days, I was reminded once again that the most interesting things often begin where the plan ends.

A delayed train changed the beginning of the journey.

A ferry that wasn’t running changed the route.

Hunger led me to a house selling blueberry buns.

The lack of space on the train forced me to find another way home.

And the message “Ride, Wojtek, ride!” appeared at exactly the right moment.

The journey also taught me that slower doesn’t necessarily mean less.

In the past, I wanted to ride 300 or 400 kilometers a day. Today, I would rather sometimes ride 130 and stop by a lake, talk to a family I’ve just met, walk through an unassuming doorway, watch storks, listen to the silence, eat a blueberry bun, or simply spend a dozen kilometers planning absolutely nothing.

Because maybe that is when we are truly traveling.

Not when we move across a map.

But when the map stops being the most important thing.

I rode more than 1,300 kilometers, climbed several thousand meters, and visited countless towns, churches, castles, parks, and roads.

But if I had to name the greatest discovery of this journey, it wouldn’t be any particular attraction.

It would be the people.

And the realization that Poland — especially the less obvious Poland, far from the big cities and tourist brochures — is incredibly beautiful.

You just have to slow down sometimes to notice it.

And perhaps that is exactly why it is worth setting out without a detailed plan from time to time.

Because then life still has a chance to offer us something.

And as it turned out, it had quite a few surprises prepared for me.

Ride, Wojtek, ride!

So I did. 🚴‍♂️🇵🇱