An Unexpected Detour—Our Conversation with Sofiane Sehili

IMAGES: Edoardo Frezet

TEXT: Sofiane with Pedaled

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IMAGES: Edoardo Frezet

TEXT: Sofiane with Pedaled

SCROLL

An Unexpected Detour—Our Conversation with Sofiane Sehili

We last spoke with PEdALED rider and ultra-racer Sofiane Sehili this past spring, and in the intervening months, he’s been on quite the journey: competing in and winning Gravel Birds in Portugal; finishing fourth in the Trans Balkan Race; attempting to set a new fastest known crossing of the Eurasian continent by bike. And then, of course, there’s the time he spent in a Russian prison—a 50-day stay that made headlines around the world. Given everything he’s been through, we wanted to talk with Sofiane again, to learn more about his world-record attempt and the subsequent decision that led to his arrest and imprisonment.

Let’s start at the beginning of your journey in July. What were some of the early challenges you faced in your world-record attempt?

There were several of them, of course. The first challenge was the heat. In Portugal, it was 40 degrees Celsius and the heat wave lasted for about three days. Then it got a little bit better, but it was still quite hot through France and Northern Italy. It got a little better again as I reached the Balkans. Then, of course, when I got to Central Asia, it was very, very hot—but it was not as challenging because I had adapted.

Crossing the first part of Russia didn't take long because it wasonly 800 kilometers around the Caspian Sea, but it was challenging because I couldn't buy a SIM card, so it was difficult to figure things out. I couldn't withdraw money because of the sanctions—I was lucky that I had $200 with me.

But again, it was time-consuming because you need to find the places where you can actually change the money. I had to go to the black market, which was an actual market. Again, in Tajikistan, I struggled with ATMs. Once, I ran out of actual dollars and had to buy cash from other tourists by wiring them money. But, you know, these are the classic challenges of a long trip in remote places.

I also sent myself a package to around the midway point in Kazakhstan with fresh tires, a chain, and a cassette, and the package never made it. It turned out okay for the chain and the cassette, but after about 10,000 kilometers, I really started struggling with punctures. I was in dire need of a new tire. I ended up finding a replacement in Mongolia, but I was quite close to the finish at that point.

Any particular highlights?

Of course, there were highlights. I mean, it's 60 days on the road, so it's not going to be just challenges. For example, it was my third time riding across the entire length of Turkey—and it was the best time. I rode inland in the mountains, and it was absolutely gorgeous. I really discovered what Turkey is all about and why so many people rave about this country. I loved Mongolia, too, at least the first half from the Chinese border to Ulaanbaatar. It was so empty and quiet, the kind of place that I love. I also really enjoyed going back to the Pamir in Tajikistan—it's one of the most beautiful places in the world—and Kyrgyzstan. I know the country really well since I've been there four times, but I discovered a new, freshly paved road this time, and it was spectacular.

What sort of planning went into your route ahead of time?

I spent quite some time just making a rough outline of where I was going to go. It was actually, I think, a good idea to not spend too much time focusing on one particular road because I ended up improvising along the way. Jonas Deichmann rode through Belarus and then entered Russia as soon as he could, and he rode all the way to Vladivostok, which made it very simple in terms of visas and border crossings. My route was completely different.

Speaking of border crossings, let’s talk about yours. You were on track to beat Jonas’ record, then you were stopped before you could cross from China back into Russia for the final stretch of your journey. Whathappened?

You can have two types of visa for Russia: a regular visa that is in your passport or an electronic visa. And my electronic visa was not valid for road border crossings. The only crossing that I was eligible for was by railroad. And there is only one train a day. And the train, by the time that I got to the station, had already left. So, I tried to cross by bus, and I was denied again.

And so there I was, not far from Vladivostok, about 200 kilometers, in the Chinese city of Suifenhe. And I was blocked. There was no way that I could legally cross the border that day. But if I waited for the next train, the next day around 9 a.m., then I would make it to Vladivostok a few hours too late to set the new world record.

So, you went in search of a solution…

At first, I started riding north, and then the Chinese police turned me back, so I started riding south. I rode along a fence. After a few kilometers, there was no fence anymore. There was just an alleyway leading to a building, and behind the building was a forest, and I started walking through that forest, and I kept walking and walking, making sure that I was going east on my GPS and hoping that I would end up somewhere in Russia. After a few hours, I came to a barbed-wire fence. There was a stream that went under the barbed wire fence; you just had to walk in the stream to go under the fence. After that, there was an area about 100 meters long where they had chopped down all the trees, so you were really out in the open. I walked through that open area, then through the forest until I got to a gravel road that led to a train track—and there I was in Russia.

And the rest is history: you presented yourself at the next checkpoint and were, perhaps to your surprise, arrested and detained. What was it like to go from two months of total freedom to two months of waiting and hoping? Did the resolve you’ve learned through cycling apply during your prison stay?

That's a good question. I don't think that my cycling experience helped me in the beginning. It was actually the opposite, I think, because as a cyclist—especially after two months on the road—I was so used to being outside. That's where I'm happy, and that's where I thrive. That's what I need every day—to be outside, to have the sky above my head.

In the early days of my detention, at some point, I had a medical visit. I showed up there, and the window was open. It was a bright sunny day, and through the window, I could see the sun. It was windy, and I could feel the wind on my face. I had only been deprived of my freedom for a few days, but still, it felt incredible—the rays of sun and the wind on my face. Then they closed the window.

But later, it did help because as an ultra-cyclist, I am used to facing adversity, going through things that are extremely difficult and fighting them with all the strength that my mind is capable of. So, I decided to find some structure in my days. I started writing—about this whole record attempt, letters to Fanny, to my family. I also found that writing poetry helped me a lot. I decided to take care of myself, simple things like washing, shaving regularly—even though I don't really [regularly shave] outside of prison—doing laundry, a lot of that kind of stuff. And exercising, as well—making sure that I would stay an athlete.

You mentioned in our last conversation that one of your must-have items on all your adventures is your e-reader. Did you have access to any books?

I had an unlimited supply of Russian books, but the problem is I don't read Russian, so they were not really useful. I did get some books in French from the consulate and from a very, very kind man that belongs to a nongovernmental organization. He was there to make sure that I was detained in good conditions, and he brought me a few books—a book called La Reine Antelope, The Optimist by Laurence Shorter, and a Russian book, actually, some poetry by Pushkin.

Then I also had one of the best-selling books in France of the last 20 years or so, which is called Et si c'était vrai? from French author Marc Lévy. It’s not necessarily a good book, but still better than watching a Vin Diesel movie dubbed in Russian.

While you were away, you had the support of hundreds of cyclists around the world wishing for your speedy return. Did you have any sense of that?

I was aware that there was support but not of how much support there actually was—especially how much it affected people. This is something that I found out afterwards, that it was a really big deal for people. They were sad; they were angry; they were worried beyond what I could have ever imagined. It says a lot about this community and how they care for their own.

I was also not aware of how big a deal it was for the media. It was not only a few articles when I was arrested but several articles every time something new happened—every time there was a hearing, where they prolonged my detention. I found out all this stuff afterwards, but it was heartwarming. There was even a Strava group. I think 4,000 people signed up!

Has this ordeal shifted your perspective on life at all?

I mean, I've always felt very lucky. As soon as I started traveling and bike touring—started seeing the world—I understood that I was born on the right side of it. That I was a very lucky person, born in the Western World where I had all of the opportunities. I always knew that I'm a very privileged person, just like most people born in France, Germany, Italy, Spain, the US…

But maybe I'm even a little bit more aware of how lucky I am, just to be free, to be able to do the things that I love. I don't think it's a radical change of perspective on life, but it helps you cherish the little things a bit more.

Welcome home, Sofiane.