"No risk, no fun"

So said my fearless guide, Kris, on the first day of our week-long bike tour as we scrabbled our way up the hilly roads toward our destination: the ski resort town of Zakopane. Our group of 12 was reduced to 4, including our guide, willing to bike uphill in the pouring rain that first day -- the rest took the van with our bags. (I have to say that I am getting rather used to the idea of organized bike tours, with someone else schlepping my bags, and sleeping in a bed rather than a tent at night. Am I getting soft, I wonder?) After the first somewhat miserable stretch of cold, wet biking -- 50F is not the weather I'd expected in July, as reflected by my choice of packed clothing -- the rain let up and we stopped for a seasonal raspberry beer and to check out a local festival in a small village along our route. About an hour of (mostly uphill) biking later, the sun came out as we came upon another village fair, this time with young men and women in traditional costumes dancing. I'd have totally missed this if I'd taken the van!

Mind you, biking in Poland is NO JOKE. I learned from our guide that the country is second to Russia in terms of annual car crashes. Being on the road in Poland, whether on a bicycle or in a car, frankly, you are taking your life in your hands. With cars blowing through red lights, stray dogs roaming the towns, and vodka being cheaper than bottled water, I was definitely glad to be part of a larger group rather than a lone cyclist. I stayed somewhere in the middle of the group as we wound our way through the majestic Carpathian Mountains, tracing the Dunjanec River as it crossed into Slovakia and back. Some bits of the tour were quite challenging, and even I had to walk my bike part way up a couple of the hills. But it was worth it. Crumbling castles, stunning vistas, beautiful open skies....

Kris was to cheerfully repeat his mantra throughout the week and we all took note. Luckily there were plenty of opportunities each day to take a nerve-calming ice cream break:

I could not resist any opportunity to try new foods, though, from mystery ice cream flavors to artisanal pastries with names I couldn't pronounce.The lunch food options were as daring as the biking in some cases, from traditional goulash one day to sauerkraut soup and honey vodka another. Sometimes the English menu translations were indecipherable or altogether missing, and I'm not quite sure about some of the meats I consumed. One afternoon we ventured into a shack that was making oscypek, southern Poland's traditional smoky sheep's milk cheese. It was undoubtedly smoky. The cheese and the air in the shack. The kind cheesemaker offered us tastes of the raw and smoked cheeses as he explained the painstaking process. At least I think that's what he was gesturing about -- I don't speak much Polish. I'm pretty sure it wasn't pasturized. I'm definitely sure it was delicious.

At one point, during our last full day of cycling, Kris picked up a bottle of plum vodka so our group could taste the regional specialty. (We finished the bottle at dinner that night. Our guide found it endlessly funny to refill my glass when I wasn't looking. I think the lining of my esophagus is still recovering.) But no risk, no fun, right? Many thanks to Kris and my cycling companions for a fun week!