From Trails to Tarmac
In February 2022, I fulfilled a dream and bought my first full-suspension MTB. Excited? That’s an understatement. I was like a kid on Christmas morning. I couldn’t even imagine how huge the difference was between the mountain bike I rode as a teenager and this high-tech machine that came with an adult price tag. Trails, handling – I picked it all up pretty quickly. I got myself a GoPro, went for rides, and made a few fun videos here and there. The only thing that bummed me out a little was that I didn’t have a riding buddy. But honestly, it didn’t really matter when, in the spring of 2023, I rode in a bike park for the first time – the Dolní Morava trails: green – fun, blue – even better, red – pure adrenaline. The black trail? That was a hard pass. But the lift up, the fun ride down – that was the dream. The weather was perfect, and I kept riding over and over again until my hands were practically numb. Taking a break? No way.
But I’m not in a situation where I can head out for that kind of fun every weekend, so I went back to riding around my local area. I enjoyed small trails I discovered in the woods, pushed for better segment times on Strava near home, and focused on improving my previous results. Still, cycling around the eastern part of Prague often meant sticking to paved roads. And riding on the road with 2.4-inch-wide trail tires? Not exactly a thrill. I didn’t want to switch to XC tires – those Continental trail tires were (and still are) the best for the kind of riding I loved. But buying a road bike? That was still a no-go – way too expensive, I told myself.
Another year passed, filled with fun and chasing PRs on Strava. In early 2024, I was testing familiar segments, trying to climb into the top 10, then the top 3. But the faster I went, the less fun it became. One time, I flew through the finish line of a trail segment like a maniac, only to crash and burn just a few meters ahead so I could stop before a freezing stream. Trust me, you don’t want to go for a swim in February. With some newfound respect, I told myself: "Downhill isn’t as simple as it seems!" And going for KOMs uphill? On a 15.5 kg full-suspension MTB? I’d need legs like Tom Pidcock’s.
In July, while I was watching the Tour de France – glued to the screen – the idea kept tugging at me. And eventually, I thought: "Why not? At worst, I’ll test the bike, and if I don’t like it, I can always return it." I won’t go into too much detail here, but after hours of research, countless articles, and way too many YouTube videos, I chose the Canyon Ultimate CF SL. That kind of research has always been my thing – and it saved me a lot of headaches later. I knew I was 98% sure I’d made the right choice.
The bike arrived two days later, and from that moment, everything changed.
I’ve always viewed sports as something, let’s say, spiritual. In golf, I had to calm my mind to feel the space around me – the grass under my feet, the wind on my face, the club in my hands – and guide the shot with my thoughts. That effort to harmonize with nature is a challenge, but it’s also the best part. Snowboarding, on the other hand, is about precise weight control – where your body is, where it should be – and every carve, every hop, every grab in the park is a small victory. Mountain biking is about facing harsh terrain. When you fly over roots again and again at high speed, you don’t just stop feeling your hands – soon, you don’t feel much of your body at all. And yet, you have to stay laser-focused on every obstacle, instinctively shifting your weight and practically "dancing" on the pedals to weave your way through the trail.
Road cycling was no different. After my first short ride, I realized that going over 30 km/h uphill wasn’t a problem. Riding on fresh, smooth asphalt? Like a mini-orgasm. Even short stretches of forest paths felt easy, and all of it came with a refreshing breeze. And that’s not to mention how magical it feels when you’re riding in the warm glow of a sunset. I got over my fear of clipless pedals after just two rides. Shopping for new gear became a fun kind of therapy (even if I had to hold myself back), and cruising the perfect bike paths from Čelákovice to Lázně Toušeň along the Elbe became my new addiction.
Of course, it’s all about pushing yourself – the mental provocation that cycling throws at you. What starts as a scenic, easy ride can quickly turn into a grueling challenge if you try to sprint or climb faster. Soon enough, your body and muscles scream that they’ve had enough. You slow down, the watts drop, and you catch your breath. But then, out of nowhere, a second wind kicks in, and you push on for another five minutes at a higher tempo. That’s the beauty of cycling. It’s why testing your limits is so much fun – and so addictive. Not to mention, it keeps you fit, clears your mind, and makes everything else in life feel a bit easier.
So, that’s the (not-so-brief) story of how I switched to road cycling. In the next few posts, I’ll share what I’ve achieved in just half a year of riding. You can either follow along with the story, compare your progress with mine (yes, I’ll include stats), or just sit back, satisfied that you’d crush those routes way faster than I ever could.
Let’s not take it too seriously... It’s only pain.
What was your story of falling in love with world seen from the saddle? Let me know in the comments!