Rain, Ruts, and Rants: A Polish TET Adventure on Two Wheels
Dates covered: 05.06.25 – 07.06.25
Right then, buckle up, throttle junkies and adventure addicts, ‘cause I’ve got a soggy tale for ya straight outta Poland. You know how they say “it’s not the destination, it’s the journey”? Yeah, well… this particular leg of the journey felt like Neptune himself was trying to piss on my parade. Spoiler alert: he succeeded.
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05.06.25 — The Rain Gods Strike Early
So here’s how the day wasn’t supposed to go:
Wake up, stretch like a yoga guru, sip hot coffee lakeside, hop on the bike, and glide into the sunrise like some two-wheeled cowboy.
But noooope.
Instead, I woke up in a damp, grimy bed that felt like it had hosted more mystery stains than a budget hostel pillowcase. The room smelled like forgotten gym socks, and as for breakfast? Nada. Zilch. Not even a sad little instant coffee sachet. All I had was a great view of the lake. Great. Just what you want when you’re hangry and decaffeinated: scenic suffering.
At 09:30—still un-caffeinated and increasingly grumpy—I did the only sensible thing: fired up the engine and rode straight into a wall of cold, relentless rain. The kind of rain that feels personal. You know the type.
I had planned to tackle the Polish TET section today, but between the dodgy weather and the fact I’m riding solo, I opted for the main roads. Playing it safe, right? Sensible. Adult. Not fun.
Every few kilometers: a bloody red light. Roadworks. Again. And again. I swear Poland’s building a new Autobahn every 5 minutes. Waiting 10 minutes at each stop gave me plenty of time to reevaluate all my life choices—including not bringing a canoe instead of a motorbike.
After nearly two hours of soggy suffering, I arrived at the end of TET Section 2. Did the rain stop? Hah! Nope. In fact, I think it got smugger. So I made another “sensible” choice—off the TET and on to the tarmac. Destination: Augustów.
Augustów—land of accommodation options, real food, and actual civilization. My mood lifted slightly. A hot shower and dry socks can do wonders for the soul.
Fun fact: while I was getting drenched in this northeastern Polish puddle, the rest of the country was bone dry. Typical.
I checked into a spot by the marina, prayed to the weather gods, and decided to hunker down for two nights. Fingers crossed that Poseidon takes a holiday.
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06.06.25 — Rebooting in Augustów
Ahhh. A rest day. No raincoat, no saddle sores, no cursing into my helmet. Just me, my legs, and an actual stroll. Yeah, that’s right—I walked. With feet. Like a regular land mammal.
Augustów’s not exactly Paris, but it’s got charm. Around 30,000 folks live here, and while the town’s seen better architectural days (cheers, history), there’s a park, a canal, and enough cafes to fuel my caffeine-starved bloodstream. After three hours of wandering and downing something that resembled decent coffee, I returned to the hotel to do Very Responsible Things™ like writing, editing, and… mostly relaxing in clean, dry sheets.
Rest days are underrated. I reset the gear, dried out my boots (finally!), and charged the soul. Pro tip: if you’re riding solo through unpredictable terrain, schedule in a few “do nothing” days. You’re not a machine—your bike is. Mostly.
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07.06.25 — Mud, Gravel, and a Side of Intolerance
Fully recharged and with caffeine once again coursing through my veins, I hit the road. First stretch of the day? Along the Augustów Canal. And let me tell you—it was a muddy mess. Big puddles. Deep holes. The kind that make you question reality. Ever stare into a puddle and wonder, “Will this eat my front wheel or just my pride?” Yeah, it was like that.
Thank the gravel gods for the next bit though—high-speed sections with just enough washboard to remind you that your suspension’s working overtime. Fifth gear, throttle open, flying at 80 km/h, legally, mind you (Polish speed limit is 90 on these roads)—felt like redemption.
Cruised through sleepy little villages that looked like they’d forgotten what day it was.
You know the kind of places—one shop, three cows, and a horse giving you the stink-eye as you roll past.
But then… the rain came back. AGAIN. Like an ex who can’t take a hint.
Now, I could’ve pulled over, fished out the rain gear, suited up. But did I? Of course not. I’m stubborn and dumb like that. Soaked to the bone once more, I limped into Białystok, hoping to dry out and find shelter. Again.
First stop: Stando Motor—an actual, well-stocked motorbike shop. Got me some chain lube (the good stuff, too) and had a chat with the staff. Friendly, helpful, proper moto-fans. If you’re ever in the area and need a bit of kit or a quick fix, check ’em out.
But alas, every rose has its thorn. While chilling near the bike later on, a random local took one look at my German plates and gave me an unsolicited “You’re stupid. Take your bike and go back to Germany.”
…Charming.
Now, I’ve got nothing but love for Poland overall—most folks here have been absolute legends. Kind, curious, helpful. But I guess every country’s got its grumps. Brush it off, move on, crack open a beer.
And that’s exactly what I did. Or two.
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The Takeaways, the Wipeouts, and the WTFs
So what’s the moral of the story? Glad you asked, dear reader.
1. Bad weather can turn a good plan into a boot-soaking misery parade.
Adapt. Improvise. Carry lots of socks.
2. Not all accommodations are created equal.
A pretty view won’t wash the smell of mildew off your riding gear.
3. TET sections in the rain? Proceed with caution (and preferably, a snorkel).
Mud is fun until it’s not. Then it’s just slippery betrayal.
4. Small towns have big hearts. Most of the time.
Don’t let one bad apple ruin the bunch. Also, beer helps.
5. Chain lube is like gold. Never run out. Ever.
Your sprockets will thank you.
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What’s Next?
Well, weather permitting, it’s back on the TET trail tomorrow. If the rain lets up, I might even hit a dry patch for once. Maybe. Miracles happen.
Until then, it’s time for dinner, beers, and checking over the bike. I’ll ride on, rain or shine, ‘cause that’s what we do. One muddy mile at a time.
And if you’re reading this from the comfort of your dry sofa, sipping espresso and judging my soggy misadventures—get out there. Ride. Get rained on. Curse the sky. Then write about it.
Catch you on the next leg.
Rubber side down.
Got similar rain-soaked war stories? Drop ’em in the comments. Misery loves company!
#dustysocks
Rain is not fun especially in EU
Here in Europe it gets instantly cold when its raining. Different to Thailand. Sometimes in Thailand rain is welcomed to cool down. But here in Europe, naaaahhhhh