ROAD TO RYCHLEBY
THERE’S A LADY WALKING A goat on a leash through the middle of town. Okay, town is a bit of a stretch. Village is more appropriate. Picture half-crumbling buildings that somehow still look charming, chickens running around yards, meadows rolling off into the distance—classic Eastern European village stuff. It’s enchanting, but the streets were built for horses and carriages, not cars, so there’s not a lot of room for our shuttle truck to squeeze by the lady and the goat. Naturally, the driver (shaved head, huge brightly colored Oakleys) is blasting Bon Jovi, windows down, bikes hanging off the tailgate. He doesn’t speak a word of English, but he’s fluent in ’80s hair band.
We’re headed deep into the mountains of the Czech Republic, near the border of Poland, where the kind of dirt that mountain bikers drive hundreds of miles to ride awaits. But first, there’s the goat and the old lady. Our driver doesn’t flinch. Neither does the goat. We pass each other with ease—old Europe and new Europe occupying the same space for a brief moment. It’s a solid metaphor for the Czech Republic itself, a country with one foot firmly planted in the past and the other warily stepping into the future. A country with mountains riddled with World War II bunkers, but also lively singletrack. The Czech Republic may have come late to mountain biking—you can blame communism—but it’s making up for lost time in recent years, with elaborate trail systems sprouting up in small mountain towns throughout the country.
On a map, hanging above the capital of Prague like a halo, they almost beg for a road trip. I imagined a proper European vacation, hitting a series of paths and pubs across the country. That kind of road trip will inevitably end at Rychleby, arguably the best trail system in the country.
PRAGUE AND PIVO
IF THE CZECH REPUBLIC IS FAMOUS FOR ANYTHING, it’s the Velvet Revolution, a peaceful uprising that ended communism in 1989. The country also gave us Franz Kafka, pilsner and Donald Trump’s ex-wife, Ivana. Mountain biking, traditionally, is way down the
