Start: 05:37 on Monday, 29 July 2024, Bijelo Polje Municipality, Montenegro
Elapsed time: 20:35:37
Moving time: 14:57:51
Distance: 327.07 km
Elevation: 4452 m
I woke up after a mediocre few hours of sleep. I’d camped by the side of the road, but it wasn’t flat, so I kept sliding off my sleeping mat all night. It was a mess—I woke up beside the mat more than on it (maybe I don’t even need it next time?). Since I didn’t want to descend the gravel road in the dark, I had to wait until sunrise, so I ended up “sleeping” more than any other night so far.
Once up, I prepped for the day and started the gravel descent. It was steep and full of switchbacks, but I was getting used to it by now, and it actually went fine. Back on tarmac, I felt the joy of riding return, and I managed to shake off the frustration from the previous day. And out of nowhere a restaurant at the side of the road appeared, and I got a descent breakfast.
The first 12–13 km were relatively flat, just a slight gradient of 1–2%. Nothing remarkable. Then came the first climb of the day.
A Perfect Climb
The climb was absolutely perfect: my legs felt strong, the views were stunning, and the gradient ranged between 4–6%. The ascent lasted for about 30–35 km, with a descent in the middle, and topped out at just under 1800 m.
The descent was incredible—definitely a place worth revisiting.
As I rode down, I crossed the border into Kosovo. That’s when the heat hit—it felt like stepping into an oven. The temperature soared to over 40°C.
Kosovo’s Surprises
The central part of Kosovo is mostly flat plains, but the heat and wind made it tough. Surprisingly, Kosovo turned out to be one of the highlights of the trip. It’s a strange but fascinating place.
One thing stood out immediately: the sheer number of Swiss cars. A rough estimate would be that one-third of the cars were Swiss-registered. I assume many refugees from the 1990s now return during the summer holidays. There were also plenty of German-registered cars.
Up until now, I’d managed without cash—Kosovo uses euros, but I hadn’t needed an ATM yet. However, in 40°C heat, I desperately needed water. Unfortunately, small roadside businesses (like in Montenegro) didn’t accept cards.
I managed for a while, but eventually, it became critical. I stopped at a gas station with a Swiss-registered car parked outside, assuming its owner was visiting family or friends. Inside, the only person there was a 6–7-year-old girl who spoke Swiss German. We chatted briefly—it felt like being back home.
I found the adults socializing behind the building and spoke to them in German. I asked for water and a Coke, offering to pay the Swiss guy via a peer-to-peer transfer, but he refused to take any money. Instead, they gifted me 2 liters of water and a Coke, asking if I needed anything else. Their kindness was more than enough.
I got back on the bike and continued crossing Kosovo, still marveling at the heat and the endless parade of luxury Swiss cars—BMWs, Audis, Mercedes, Porsches. The region’s macho car culture was on full display.
The Mountains Ahead
After Prizren and about 180 km of riding, the mountains separating Kosovo from North Macedonia began. I had to climb one mountain, reaching 1500 m, but it wasn’t too steep and was manageable. The problem? The soles of my feet were burning, and my butt was in agony. I had to stop for a break to rest both and resupply.
At the top, there was an amazing view of the valley below. It seemed to be a popular spot, with people escaping the heat of the plains for a day out at higher altitudes. It was fun to see families and groups enjoying themselves.
CP3 and Beyond
I began the descent toward CP3 and finally arrived. My burning feet demanded immediate attention—off came my shoes and socks.
I charged my phone, devoured a huge plate of macaroni and cheese, and spent longer at the checkpoint than I should have. Unlike last time, I managed to pay for my meal—there was an ATM nearby, so I finally withdrew some euros.
From there, I unintentionally took a slightly different route from most riders, heading toward the city of Kumanovo in North Macedonia.
Night Riding
To reach Kumanovo, I had to cross a small mountain range in the dark. I love night riding in the mountains—it’s meditative, and you can’t see how steep the climbs are or what lies ahead.
On the descent, I noticed a strange smell in the air, though I couldn’t quite identify it at the time.
By now, my butt was screaming in pain, and it was getting very late. I hadn’t booked a hotel but felt okay about camping. As I neared Kumanovo, I looked for accommodation and found a hotel. Unfortunately, the reception was closed due to the late hour, so I ended up camping in a small field nearby.
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