The Night Everything Went Wrong in Poland

The Night Everything Went Wrong in Poland

*Written by Andrew’s uncle, Bryan, derived from a detailed phone conversation.

The trip technically started when Andrew landed in Krakow. But the way he tells it, it really began when he found himself locked out of his hotel room in rural Poland at nearly midnight — exhausted, freezing, wearing almost nothing, completely alone.

It was less about the riding and the glory of the trip (the big idea) and, at this moment, the realization of the challenges that were ahead.  "I had ridden 45 miles and sat there thinking that I have a mere 23,955 more miles of this." He said slowly and then followed with: “What have I gotten myself into?”

He'd spent weeks leading up to this: quitting his job, organizing gear, saying goodbye to people, piecing together the route and in his mind, setting expectations for friends and family. By the time he landed in Poland with his massive cardboard bike box and a small duffel bag, he'd had zero sleep in 24-hours.

--(Kindness anecdote why Andrew got zero sleep on the flight:  On the long flight to Europe, Andrew’s row of three seats included a father and son of Taiwanese decent.  Andrew shared that he had such an interesting chat with the father and even tried to use some of use his ‘rusty’ Chinese.  They immediately bonded.  Later in the flight, while the father slept soundly, the son became motion sick and was literally throwing up for hours.  Andrew stayed awake, comforting the young boy, helping him with motion sickness bags, making sure he was ok… all while allowing his father, who was clearly exhausted, to sleep.  Kind people like Andrew regularly do kind things and don’t speak about them.  They just do them quietly without expecting any acknowledgement.  That makes them the best type of kind people, in my opinion.  --

Back to his arrival and first days in Poland…

The whole lead-up to his global tour had been this sustained rush of logistics and excitement that kept him moving constantly. Then, suddenly, it stopped. He was alone in a small Polish village with nothing left to plan and no more preparation to distract him.  In preparation for the tour, he was very distracted with logistics and had little time to ponder nuances.  He was now front and center with nuances, big and small.

"I think the solitude really started hitting me," he said. "I didn't know what to expect and it was happening right then."

The ride south out of Krakow was cold and harder than expected from the start. He was still getting used to the loaded bike, and despite having tested everything multiple times before leaving, a brake cable snapped — then a shifting cable went not long after. The roads climbed constantly. And because it was Good Friday in one of Europe's most Catholic countries, nearly everything was shut down. By the time he found a small homestay in a rural village, he was wrecked.

The place was technically closed for the holiday, but the owner was kind enough to let him stay anyway. <Anecdote: a kind, trusting interaction early on.>  Andrew was the only person in the entire building that night. He was just glad to have a roof and was looking forward to a shower and a bed.

The shower was downstairs, hostel-style. Simple enough. What he couldn't have predicted was that the simple act of taking it would set off the worst night of the trip – literally in the first days of the trip!

When he came back upstairs, his electronic keycard wouldn't work. The door wouldn't open. Inside that room was everything he had to his name —clothes, sleeping gear, his bike, his food. Outside was near-freezing temperatures (early April in Poland), no staff in the hotel, no heat anywhere in the building, deserted streets - no open businesses in the village, and a older iphone with 8% battery.

"I realized if I didn't figure something out, I was probably going to get hypothermia." He's not someone who exaggerates, so when he said the hotel lobby was probably around 40 degrees and it was well below freezing outside, I figured it was an understatement. With the hotel closed, there was no heat running anywhere in the building — just the small room heater that was now locked behind a door he couldn't open.

He thought through every option. The door was heavy wood — breaking in wasn't realistic. I actually envisioned him busting through the door like in the movies, but that was not realistic.  Climbing outside to reach his window was ridiculous. Calling emergency services was possible, but his phone might not the shortest call, let alone searching for a number, and he might not reach somebody speaking English. Eventually he found a small housekeeping closet with a few hand towels, wrapped them around his legs and torso as well as possible, and went looking for the least miserable spot in the building. The bathroom where he'd just showered still had a little residual warmth from the steam. He spread a few small towels on the tile floor, arranged the others around him as best he could, and tried to sleep.

As if things couldn’t possibly get wors, the super bright, motion-sensor lights kept switching on every time he flinched.

He was awake most of the night — super cold, exhausted, and by his own account questioning everything. Honestly, when he described it to me, it sounded less like bad luck and more like something specifically designed to break a person. I read about people enduring unthinkable hardships and many do.  That night for Andrew really tested his ability to manage ‘mind over matter’.

At 11am the next morning, Andrew still literally shivering in the bathroom, a hotel employee arrived to check on the building, apologized profusely and let him back into his room, and told him he was welcome to stay as long as he needed. Andrew collapsed into bed and didn't wake up until 7pm. <Anecdote:  Andrew described how he explained what happened to the hotel employee and there was no anger or negativity.  He was calm.  He simply and politely asked if could check out later in the day because he was not able to sleep.  Amazing.>

And here's the strange part — that miserable night changed something in him. "After that," he said, "everything else just felt manageable."

Dog attacks, broken bikes, cold rain, sleeping beside roads — all of it that came later got measured against that night in Poland (consciously or unconsciously). It had quietly become his new baseline.

I know that most militaries train their soldiers in the most severe conditions.  In that way, when in combat and experiencing real life severe conditions, the soldiers can function.  Andrew experienced a few facets of bootcamp that fateful night. 

In a way, it might have been the best thing that could have happened at the start of a trip like this. It stripped away any illusions about what he was getting into, and pretty quickly showed him what he was made of.