At the start of the Granfondo Ukraine, there is as much anticipation as at any other cycling race in the world: cyclists are pumping up their tyres, filling their water bottles and tightening their helmet straps. Tape marks the start line on the road, and a few metres behind it are the sensors for timekeeping. You can see colourful jerseys, tanned calves and slim waists. But nobody would have the crazy idea of taking photos of the starting line-up with a drone or firing a starting pistol in a country at war. In the small village of Komarno in western Ukraine, 30 kilometres from Lviv (Lviv), around 140 men and women have gathered to take part in a cycling race. Today is not about war or peace, but about burning lungs, successful attacks and tough battles on the final climb. As in any bike race, there will be some blood and skin on the road. The sun burns mercilessly from the sky and the thermometer is well over 30 degrees. The start list reveals participants from Kyiv, Odessa, Mykolaiv, Rivne and, of course, Lviv. But many places on the list have remained empty.
Fewer cycle races in Ukraine
The Granfondo Ukraine is still one of the largest cycling races in the country, but before the Russian invasion there were around three times as many participants. The cyclists from Kharkiv and other cities in the east of the country, which are particularly under Russian fire, are missing. There are no faces from the racing bike scene who are serving in the military or have already fallen. Above all, however, men have stayed away because they fear mobilisation. While thousands volunteered to defend their country in 2022, the fear of dying on the front line now dominates. There is great concern about being targeted by mobilisation officers on the journey. But is it moral to fight for places on the podium while the country is at war?
Can you organise a bike race during a war?
Who could answer that better than Maksym Logash (50), one of the founders of the organising Lviv Bicycle Club? He serves in the army, but still supports the race: "It's good for the psyche. I know many volunteers who have done everything they can to support the army. I know that they are very often mentally exhausted. Cycling gives you fresh air, the opportunity to feel the time without stress." Maksym no longer cycles, he is totally exhausted mentally and physically. Cycling has been at the centre of his life - he even competed in Paris-Brest-Paris. He volunteered in 2022 and works as a medic in the army. His old life no longer exists. He can no longer remember when the club was founded or when he was in France. The only thing left in his head are the numbers from the army - life before 2022 is just a dim memory.
Tetiana Kuzminska (45) has been part of the Lviv Bicycle Club organisation since it was founded. Together with other founders, she has taken part in the Maratona dles Dolomites, the Salzkammergut Trophy and cycling holidays in the Dolomites. Tetiana explains why cycling races are also important during war: "After the big Russian invasion in 2022, we first thought you can't do that: a bike race while people are dying. Then we realised that people were longing for their familiar lives." The events will therefore continue to take place and the entry fees will be donated to the army.
Safe starting point in the countryside
The start in a small village in the countryside is ideal for safety reasons. A gathering of people in Lviv would be an irresponsible risk. Last year, one week before the Granfondo Ukraine 2023, a single Russian cruise missile damaged 35 residential buildings, an office building, a school and 50 cars in Lviv. 10 people died and 40 were injured. Here in the small village 30 kilometres from Lviv, however, there is no discernible risk. Especially from the point of view of Viktoriia Bondarenko (37) from Odessa. She is familiar with Russian airstrikes from her home town on an almost daily basis. And Dima Kachur (22), who rides for the Mykolaiv team, is also familiar with regular air raids and is not afraid. He only has one thing on his mind: winning this bike race.
National anthem before the start
At eleven o'clock sharp, the men gather on the starting grid. Behind the starting field, a convoy of private support cars and a handful of women are waiting. They start later in a separate women's race. A battery-powered loudspeaker plays the national anthem, which many sing along to fervently. A police car with flashing blue lights and two cars from the race organisers set off ahead of the peloton. After a short, neutralised phase, the race finally gets underway and the peloton accelerates to 45 km/h. The first part of the 84-kilometre route is flat and fast. The wind blows from the side and the battle for positions in the slipstream begins. Oncoming vehicles are waved to the side by the lead cars, police officers at junctions shield the traffic and so the peloton spreads out across both lanes. The condition of the small side roads is sometimes catastrophic: deep and large holes force the riders to swerve. Large cow pats, fine sand or later sections covered with hundreds of pebbles require a great deal of attention. "We used to drive on good main roads, but that's not possible at the moment," explains Tetiana.
Huge wheat fields in Ukraine
To the left and right of the road, the huge wheat fields lie in the sun. Individual trees dot the landscape like green dots. For a moment, you can imagine travelling along a German country road - perhaps in Bavaria. In the next village there would be a beautiful baroque church and a war memorial commemorating the dead of the First and Second World Wars. Here in Ukraine, the improvised war memorials by the roadside are new: in every village, flags and photos of men in uniforms commemorate those who died in the defence campaign against Russia. The picture is similar at the cemeteries that can be seen from the road: there, too, Ukrainian flags are stuck in the ground next to new graves. There are an alarming number of flags for such small villages. The small houses are made of wood or have a rough, unplastered façade and are more functional than beautiful. On the other hand, the Orthodox churches, whose golden roofs gleam in the sunshine, are all dressed up jewels. This Sunday, many people can be seen strolling home on foot after mass and looking curiously at passing cyclists. Children sit bare-chested at the side of the road and jump up enthusiastically as the colourful peloton whizzes past. Occasionally, a dog or cat slowly crosses the road. Without a fence, cows graze right next to the road and chickens peck at the ground. A peaceful rural idyll, suddenly interrupted by the convoy of cyclists and escort cars.
Battle at the top
Team BFCC from Kyiv initially held on to the lead in the men's race, but then after around 30 kilometres Dima attacks and breaks away from the field with hard kicks. He battled alone for ten kilometres before being swallowed up again. In the women's race, Viktoriia spends most of the time at the front. The other riders know that she is strong and stay on her rear wheel. The war has welded the racing bike scene together, Viktoriia reports after the race. She is the president of a cycling club and organises children's cycling training and group rides. "Since the war, all age groups have been taking part in the rides. There is a great sense of cohesion."
Dangerous training conditions in Ukraine
But what does cycle training look like under wartime conditions? Lviv is 1000 kilometres from the front, but Russia has bombed the infrastructure there too. Water, heating and electricity are limited everywhere. "You have to plan carefully just to charge the bike computer. We had no electricity for eight hours yesterday," reports Tetiana. Recovery is difficult because the constant air alarms prevent sleep and rest. In the Odessa region, there has been at least one air alarm on a total of 672 days since February 2022, resulting in over 400 explosions. In Ukraine as a whole, there have been 11,477 documented explosions of rockets, glide bombs or shahed drones far from the front line. If you ask Viktoriia whether cycling in Odessa is dangerous, she smiles wearily. Just last week, she was on a ride when a bridge was bombed. "But road cycling gives me a sense of freedom." After being surprised twice this year by strikes without warning, she has even deleted the warning app that reports Russian attacks from her mobile phone. "I've seen what happens when cluster bombs are dropped. You have no chance of getting to safety in time anyway."
Traumatic experiences
When asked, she recounts two particularly traumatic experiences: during training with her children's group, a cruise missile hit very close by. Her second experience cost the lives of neighbours and many helpers. Minutes after she had left her flat, the warning app reported a missile strike in her neighbourhood. Her father is a doctor and reported on the phone that he was travelling to the site of the impact. 30 minutes later, the app reported another impact at the same location. Experts call the Russian tactic "double tap", which aims to kill as many rescue workers as possible. Viktoriia panicked, but her father was not among the many victims. She is reluctant to talk about her third trauma: on 2 April 2022, she accompanied the German RTL journalist Gordian Fritz as an interpreter to Butscha, which had just been liberated, while the bodies of the murdered civilians were still lying in the streets, cellars and courtyards. After these three experiences, the strong woman was on the verge of breaking down and fled abroad for two months. She cycled in Belgium and France before homesickness drew her back to Odessa. She is not the only one who is mentally at the limit. "I feel so tired and I've become numb at times - it's a psychological defence. I know a lot of people who are depressed," reports Tetiana.
Pain in the legs
What's the pain in the legs? The men's race is now entering the decisive phase: several breakaway attempts have failed and a fierce battle breaks out. The last ten kilometres are 300 metres uphill and when the leaders hit the climb at 25 km/, the group explodes. The team from Mykolaiv has tactically skilfully broken away with two riders and only one competitor in tow. The lanky Dima knows that you can never give up in cycling and rides away from everyone. He reaches the finish line a long way behind. In the women's race, the podium places are fought for right to the end. Viktoriia manages to pull away a little, but there is a sprint to the finish behind her for second and third place. This is Viktoriia's third victory at the Granfondo Ukraine and it means a lot to her. But the slower riders also celebrate their personal success - never give up also applies to the fight for 50th place. Riders cross the finish line a long way behind. Crash wounds are treated in the ambulance in the finish area. All bones are intact, only a brand new racing bike is broken into pieces.
There are only two or three cycling races a year in Ukraine and, like everywhere else in the world, they are associated with big cycling dreams. Young rider Roman Koshelev (15) came fifth in the last national road championships and dreams of becoming a professional cyclist. His coach Pavlo Popovych knows how to make it happen: he is the father of former pro Yaroslav Popovych, who is now sports director at Lidl-Trek. And Dima's eyes also light up when he talks about his cycling dreams. Although he is only 22, everything in his life has revolved around cycling for ten years. He sees today's victory as preparation for the Ukrainian Championships, where he wants to become national champion. And his big goal is to find a professional team abroad.
Cycling dreams in the Ukraine
While the younger ones have unclouded dreams of cycling, the older cyclists are dominated by worries. Most of the men hope that they won't have to join the military and at the same time are convinced that the Russians can only be stopped militarily. Tetiana agrees, admitting that the situation weighs on her every day: "The war has changed everything. I've lost my sense of security. Every night could be your last." She is financially secure thanks to her job in the IT sector, but she is still thinking about a different future: "I will have to learn to shoot. A lot of friends have already died and maybe I'll decide to join the military. I don't have any children and I have realised that I only have one home." And Viktoria hopes that she and her children will never be caught by Russian bombs during cycling training. "I wouldn't be able to cope if a child died during my cycling training." A few days later, Ukrainian media report the use of a cluster bomb in Odessa. There are no details about the victims in the report.
Background information
Granfondo Ukraine
The Granfondo Ukraine is a timed race in the Lviv region in western Ukraine. The location is very close to the Polish border - the front is over 1000 kilometres away. There used to be up to 500 participants. Events such as the Lviska Sotka organised by the club (two events per season) attracted significantly more starters before the great Russian invasion. There is a starting block for men, one for women and a mixed block for cyclists who want to ride without time pressure. The race is organised by the Lviv Bicycling Club, which describes itself as the largest club for amateur cyclists in Ukraine. The club has a long tradition of randonneuring - several club members have already taken part in Paris-Brest-Paris. This year too, brevets over 200/300/400/600/800 and 1000 kilometres were offered.
Security
The Federal Foreign Office advises against travelling to Ukraine. Airspace is closed, travelling out of the country is only possible by land. The app "Повітряна тривога" offers a warning in the event of an air alert. On the website https://alerts.in.ua/en you can see in real time where air attacks are imminent.
Sources of information
Kristian Bauer
Editor
