— At that time, I knew nothing about frame sizing; I just picked it based on the color. I ended up with a massive bike that didn't fit me at all. My friends and I started riding further and further, traveling across the entire region. The essence of those trips could be described by the motto "Dumb Luck and Bravery." I specifically remember a season opener where we rode 120 km with completely untrained legs. I didn't even make it home on my own—I got a flat, and a friend had to evacuate me by car. But those are the rides you remember for a lifetime.
— Back then, a child bike seat caused a real stir! Since Soviet times, we were used to passengers riding on the rack, or at most, "DIY-ing" a seat on the frame for kids. People looked at my professional bike seat with total amazement. Maybe Minsk was more progressive in that regard, but out in the provinces, it was a novelty.
— Within a couple of days, we learned: you don't cross a bike lane without looking both ways, and you definitely don't walk on it—people ride a lot, and they ride fast. In Belarus at that time, they had also started paying attention to bikes, and the direction was right. Но even at the level of traffic laws, the bicycle remained an "alien element": you had to ride on the sidewalk, which made pedestrians literally hate you.
— Even now, four years later, on narrow and busy city streets, I sometimes choose to ride slowly alongside pedestrians rather than merge into heavy car traffic.
— The key difference is that in the mid-2010s in Belarus, if you wanted to participate in something worthwhile, you had to organize it yourself. Huge respect to the folks at ARF.by who kept that movement going. By 2019, the event calendar was quite full, regional starts were added, and the dynamic was positive.
— From my running days, I remember: the end of May means "Naliboki." For me, it was a reason to stay in shape over the winter. I chose the 100 km running distance, and you can't just do that "off the couch." Bonding with like-minded people, sleeping in a tent... pure bliss! And pain on the course, of course. Но still bliss.
— It wasn't an official race, but a gathering for those used to "grinding it out" in the woods. The views there are gorgeous, somewhat reminiscent of our Braslaw Lakes: hills and lakes. And, of course, a total lack of a language barrier.
— This is a big difference from Polish events. They have great food stations, but they don't serve kissel anywhere! And in May 2025, "Naliboki" actually took place in Lower Silesia, near the town of Milicz. The landscape there is similar to the Belarusian Polesia: pines, sand, small streams, and marshes. There, I was a full-fledged organizer and worked just as hard as the participants.
— But people show up, sleep in tents, meet each other, complain about the organizers, and discuss the best moments. Isn't that, at the end of the day, the whole point?
— The idea is that in May, students bike to school, and for every trip, they get stickers. There are individual and team rankings—the class with the best result might win a trip to the cinema. The campaign is super popular: in May, schools in Wrocław have a real problem with bike parking because everything is packed!
— Early on, a stable income and Russian-speaking colleagues made life very easy. But later, it played a cruel joke: because of remote work, there was no need to use Polish daily. As a result, my comprehension is good, but the practice of speaking and live communication is lacking.
— I decided to follow their lead and started joining "coffee rides" on weekends. It’s a very positive experience: on one hand, new routes; on the other, total immersion in the language environment. A new season is starting now, and I plan to join these outings more often. It’s the best way to finally start talking.