Trans Continental Race 27th July 2025

a lot of mountains around the Asturias region also, the coast must be considerably flatter

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Remember from last year, the position is only updated at the official checkpoints, so does not make allowance from progress between the checkpoints. At the moment it is probably just the order they left the start.

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I’m sure it must be against the rules? But I’m thinking Ferry from Barcelona to Genoa could be a nice move if timings suit. 24h of moving kip :sweat_smile: It does involve a jaunt back over the Pyrenees though.

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:rofl: Yeah only certain ferry crossings are sanctioned when they are involved. E.g. TCR9 had none allowed

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I feel we’re neglecting Spooner. Where is he?

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Between Montpellier & Avignon it would appear.

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Matts not enjoying the Italian road surface, makes Leeds IM look :ok_hand:.

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It looked like the two leaders were sat in the Ferry port together for a whole day. Not sure whats going on with that

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From Matt’s WhatsApp I believe the ferry only leaves twice a day

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Best song Chris De Burgh never wrote

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Up until I think today or maybe tomorrow there is/was only one ferry per day at midnight. Then there is 2. Midnight and midday.

Bl00dy he11 the first half dozen finished already :astonished_face:
Nearly 400km a day… cannot comprehend! Spooner averaging over 300 himself!!

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About 200km to go so he should finish today!

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Not far off starting the final parcours

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@Matthew_Spooner just about to finish :flexed_biceps:.

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Race Report: TCR No. 11 – A Brutal, Beautiful Odyssey

The Setup: From Zurich to Santiago

The 2023 Transcontinental Race (TCR No. 11) was a monster—5,000 km from Santiago de Compostela, Spain, to Constanța, Romania, with 53,000 meters of climbing. Just getting to the start line felt like a mini-adventure: a 19-hour bus slog from Zurich to Hendaye, France, followed by an 11-hour TCR-organized transfer to Santiago. Boring? Absolutely. But at least I avoided the train chaos that left other riders scrambling.

I spent the weekend reassembling my bike, testing it on a short spin, and playing mechanic for fellow racers whose bikes hadn’t survived the journey. With shops closed for the holiday, my multitool became the most popular item in town.


Stage 1: Spain – Tyre Drama and Knee Trouble

The race kicked off with a 120 km “parcour” to Fistera, Europe’s westernmost point. The pace was ludicrous—like a 200 km crit, not an ultra—and I got sucked into the frenzy, hammering far too hard before reality (and my lungs) forced me to ease off.

Northern Spain was relentless: no flat roads, just endless climbs and descents. By lunchtime on Day 1, I’d clocked 380 km and 5,000 m of elevation. Then, disaster—a metal shard slashed my rear tyre. After futile attempts with plugs, I resorted to an inner tube and a glued tyre boot, losing precious time. Rolling into Oviedo at 11:30 PM, I collapsed into bed, only to spot a high-end bike shop across the street. Next day, by 10:15 AM, I was back on the road with a fresh Pirelli gravel tyre.

At Checkpoint 1 (109th place), I faced a brutal choice: a 90 km road route or a 50 km shortcut with a savage 16 km climb (the second half averaging 12–18%). I took the shortcut. Bad idea. My left knee began aching—a problem that would haunt me for the next 4,000 km.


Stage 2: France – Pyrenees and the Mistral’s Wrath

Day 4 served up a parcours over the Pyrenees’ iconic climbs: Col de Portet, Col d’Aubisque, and Col du Tourmalet. Aubisque broke me. Grinding up with a throbbing knee, I questioned my life choices—until a magical pizza and coffee before Tourmalet transformed me into a climbing machine. Checkpoint 2: 87th place.

Day 5 was a rare flat reprieve, blessed with a tailwind—until I hit the Camargue. A routing error dumped me onto scenic but painfully slow cycle paths. Desperate, I switched to Google Maps’ “driving” mode (risking banned roads) and finally reached my hotel at 1 AM.

Day 7 was one of my worst TCR days ever. Angry drivers screamed at me to use cycle paths, which were agonizingly slow. Then the Mistral hit—a 50 km/h headwind in the Rhône Valley. Pushing 200 watts, I barely managed 15 km/h. Defeated, I stopped at a gite, 100 km short of my goal.


Stage 3: Italy – Knee Agony and Gravel Redemption

Italy was a mixed bag. The Parcours on the Tuscan gravel roads (Strade Bianche-style) were stunning but brutal—washboard surfaces, steep climbs, and sketchy descents. My knee was on fire, and Italian drivers treated me like roadkill. In Pisa, I nearly quit, but ultra-cycling rule #1 saved me: Never scratch before a good night’s sleep.

A last-ditch knee compression sleeve in Siena worked miracles—why hadn’t I tried this sooner? I bivvied in a mountain marquee, waking to find a café 20 meters away. Five cappuccinos later, I was back on the road, grinning through the pain.


Stage 4: Balkans – Albania’s Surprise and a Serbian Sprint

The ferry to Albania was a luxury—hot shower, clean kit, and a proper bed. I chose the tarmac route over the infamous SH37 gravel road, enjoying smooth roads (only to learn the gravel riders arrived 45 minutes faster).

A hotel booking fiasco in North Macedonia left me fuming, but I channeled the anger into my biggest day: 380 km and 5,000 m of climbing. Serbia’s border guard was hilariously curious about “the mad cyclists,” and the roads were sublime.


Final Push: Romania – Dogs, Heat, and a Beach Finish

Romania surprised me—great roads, friendly locals, and (thankfully) non-vicious dogs. The final parcour included a 35 km gravel section that turned into a swamp, with water deep enough to submerge my shoes. Then, in true TCR fashion, the last 3 km were on the beach. I face-planted in the sand 200 meters from the line, cursing loud enough to scare seagulls.

At 11:55 PM, I crossed the finish. Final stats:

  • 4,874 km ridden
  • 53,200 m climbed
  • 59th place out of 450 starters

Reflections: Lessons from the Edge

The Good:

  • Finished strong, covering 1,150 km in 66 hours with minimal sleep.
  • Bivvying worked brilliantly—no more wasting time hunting for hotels.
  • Knee compression sleeve was a game-changer (why didn’t I use it sooner?!).

The Bad:

  • Lost 4 hours to a slashed tyre on Day 1.
  • Ferry miscalculation: Could’ve caught an earlier boat, saving half a day.
  • Knee pain cost me dearly—addressing it earlier might’ve shaved a full day off.

Marginal Gains for Next Year:

  • Reduce rest time from 32% to 28%.
  • Carry more food to avoid gas station delays.
  • Optimize routing—no more “scenic” detours.

Final Thoughts

TCR No. 11 was a battle of resilience, improvisation, and stubbornness. I hit my 15-day target but know I left time on the table. Next year? Marginal gains. Less faffing. More speed. And maybe—just maybe—I’ll avoid the beach finish.

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Spoons - you amaze me. Not the fact you finished (never in doubt) but the fact that you went again after last year, and plan to go a 3rd time.

It reminds me of doing Toughguy - I had to do it a 2nd time to see how mad I was to do it the 1st time, but a 3rd was never on the cards.

Chapeau!

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Mad. Quite mad.

Great write up and congratulations

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Wasnt this the 3rd time , so next year will be 4 :hushed_face: