The Jiu Valley in Hunedoara County was a hub for coal mining during Romania’s communist era. Many of the 15 mines closed as the industry declined post-Ceaușescu, but their plants stand today.

For the country’s premier hard enduro, that meant more places for riders and their bikes to play. Day 1 of Red Bull Romaniacs, on July 28, concluded inside the Petrila Coal Mine. Likewise, part of Day 2 ran through the mine in Lupeni.

The broader Transylvania boasts a rich mining history dating as far back as 3100–2700 BCE with salt, gold, and silver miners in the Crișul Alb Valley.^[1] Jiu had an agrarian society but the mountainous terrain made it unfit for farming compared to other regions.^[2] Once hard coal was discovered in 1840, surface mining began and the region became the main hub for exporting it and iron.^[1] The advent of the necessary technologies enabled the practice to further grow in the mid-19th century, with the Petrila mine opening in 1859 followed by Lupeni’s in 1881.^[2]

Under the Socialist Republic, the valley underwent a rapid industrialization starting in 1956. 80% of Romania’s population were farmers in the 1930s, while a plurality worked in factories by 1979.^[1] Production skyrocketed accordingly: in Petrila specifically, this peaked at 1.2 million tons in 1983.^[3]

In retrospect, this rapid expansion—which entailed nationalizing the mines and centralizing their leadership—was perhaps too fast and sudden, and the valley’s communities struggled to keep up. Even though the communists framed themselves as being for the working class, the SovRoms (Romanian–Soviet joint ventures) who took over the privately-owned mines following World War II didn’t resonate with the miners.^[1] There was consequently a disconnect between the miners and ruling party for much of the latter’s early history (“Trăiască foamea”, or “Long Live Hunger”, was a popular catchphrase among miners to mock the party). Getting the miners onboard was key, especially as they formed a major political bloc in Romania that predated the RSR: the first labor stoppage was in 1875 followed by a general strike in 1892.^[2] Once the Romanian state became the sole owner in 1956, the aforementioned expansion finally gave the miners some peace of mind. They became a source of national pride who were touted as spearheading the country’s economic stability.^[1]

All of that came crumbling down alongside the communist regime. The miners remained a political force, but in a negative light when they were called upon by the Ion Iliescu government to crush protests against unfair elections.^[1] The most infamous case came in June 1990 when six people were killed. The miners themselves later led their own mineriad in September 1991 to strike for better wages; Petrila mine electrician Aurel Potoroaca said “that June, television was the terrorist. I thought [the students] were terrorists. I feel what we do know is justice. What we did then was a terrible mistake.”^[4]

As the ’90s progressed, the coal industry gradually became privatized via restructuring by the government. Production dropped by 57% from 1991 to 2000, with the first mine closure being in Lonea Pilier in 1994. Mass layoffs took place in 1997, and wages had gotten so low that 40% of miners agreed to voluntary redundancy because it gave them 12–20 months’ worth of pay.^[5] They eventually left town; Potoroaca went to the United States, having been told all of his living expenses would be covered by USA-IT except for food and that he’d be paid $10 an hour. He remarked in 2001, “Who wouldn’t want to come to America?”^[6]

The mines and factories, once something to be proud of as a Romanian, were seen as a symbol of a failing system and government.^[1] Some described the changing state of the mines as deindustrialization; in a broader commentary about Europe’s post-Cold War industrial trajectory, Stefan Berger and Christian Wicke noted deindustrialization applies economically and culturally as the field becomes “perceived as a burden rather than something worth being preserved and represented as formative to the hometown or region.”^[7] Besides the economic hardships, social divisions had been brewing since the communist period due to foreign workers from places like Moldavia, who didn’t get along with the momârlani that lived there for generations.^[1]

“Within moments of arriving, you can taste the smoke on your lips and smell it in your hair. Like a bizarre freak of nature, even the snow and ice are grimy black,” Adrian Monti of The Argus wrote when he and photographer Simon Dack visited Petrila to cover a Christmas charity event in 1994. Miner Ion Bulancea was interviewed by Monti and bluntly stated, “This town is full of misery and apathy. All many of the miners do here is work, drink, and sleep. There is no time or interest in sport or culture and they can’t afford what is in the shops. Their lives are a drudgery.”^[8]

Petrila’s downfall reached its nadir in 2008 when two explosions occurred inside the mines due to methane gas buildup. Eight were killed in the initial blast, then five more died in the second as rescue workers attended to the scene. Plenty of accidents happened throughout its history, but those were accepted as being part of the job because of the benefits and pay miners received at the time; now that those luxuries were gone, a tragedy like this was only another sign of the end.^[1]

The mine closed on October 30, 2015, with plans to demolish it by January 2016. However, efforts by the community to protect the site from demolition began as early as 2011. After all, even when the value of coal mining was zilch by now, many still felt it’s a major part of the valley’s cultural heritage (a concept known as “heritagization”).^[7] Planeta Petrila, an art project by former miner Ion Barbu, became the focus of a 2016 Andrei Dăscălescu documentary by the same name. Soon enough, the Ministry of Culture issued an order to list it on the National Register of Historic Monuments in Romania.^[1]

Even before formal closure, the factory was already a part of the country’s enduro footprint. Coal mines aren’t a new feature in the discipline, with the Red Bull 111 MegaWatt taking place in the open-pit Bełchatów Coal Mine (Europe’s largest coal reserve) in Poland, and the unique terrain they offer make them a popular and scenic location to ride. Paul Bolton and Red Bull conducted a freeride through Petrila Mine in 2014. Romaniacs made it the 2014 finish, while the plant was also utilized in 2017 and 2018. The lattermost included a section through another mine in Aninoasa.

Following the Prologue in Sibiu, Day 1 primarily went through the forests of the Carpathian Mountains. Upon emerging from the trees, riders briefly rejoined the road before crossing some shrubbery into the factory. Riding between the blue tape that demarcated the course, they went along the factory’s concrete walls before entering via a since-removed door.

A hairpin around a column, marked with a red sign that warned of methane gas and handling explosives, took riders up a stairway. A pedestrian walkway and another crossed into the adjacent building. Going along the length of this facility and weaving through the rubble led to a staircase—one upstairs and the other a very tight stair descent, which proved difficult for the larger adventure bikes; some riders found themselves sandwiched between their motorcycles and the wall as they tried to work downstairs. A righthand turn led to a brief straight and leftward.

This was followed by a downward slope back to ground level. Outside again, the course turned back into the same building. A left-hander fed into a long straightaway where the finish awaited.

The mine action continued on Day 2, this time at the facility in Lupeni. Unlike Petrila, the Lupeni Mine is officially still open, albeit with no actual activity and much of the premises are ruins.

“Lupeni, a grimy community of 30,000 people that is nearly indistinguishable from coal-mining towns elsewhere,” The New York Times stated in 1977.^[9] “The single main street is lined with one-story brick shacks opening onto tiny coal-black dirt squares where sootyfaced children play.

“The shacks, dating back to before World War II, are relieved only occasionally by towers of newer apartments, many of them thrown up hastily after workers’ demands five and 10 years ago. Now they, too, are cracked and blackening.”

Lupeni has a history forged in fire and blood. In 1922, 82 were killed in an explosion in the Aurelia mine; the Associated Press reported, “The bodies of 50 of the victims were completely carbonized while those of the others were blown to pieces.”^[10] Seven years later, police fired upon a miners’ strike in Lupeni, killing 30 and eventually being used as propaganda by the RSR.^[2]

In 1977, Lupeni’s miners were at the forefront of mass demonstrations for better labor conditions. Local miner Vasile Caila’s son had been killed in a hit-and-run by the wife of the local hospital director, yet the authorites refused to investigate. New rules imposed also prevented Caila from retiring for another two more years, so he banded with Constantin Dobre and other coworkers to march on Lupeni.^[11]

“Down with the communist bourgeois,” they proclaimed.^[11] “Down with those who’ve taken our houses and farms and made us slaves!”

They were the largest protests against Ceaușescu at the time, prompting the dictator to eventually show up. Dobre stared him down and demanded a six-hour workday, lower production quotas, and restoring the retirement age. Ceaușescu appeared to cave, only to clamp down on everyone in the following days. Caila was taken away by the Securitate and beaten.^[12] Still, the debacle was another sign of the growing discontent in Romania and the eventual end for the regime. Dobre would eventually go into exile for his involvement in the 1990 mineriad, fearing Iliescu’s administration was just a continuation of the RSR’s.^[11]

Of course, Lupeni was also impacted by the restructuring in the 1990s. Local mine leaders accused the government in 1992 of importing coal from Ukraine and of staging false-flag miners’ rioting.^[13] By 2008, the town’s crime was 70% higher than the rest of the country.^[5]

Gheorghe Postolache, one of the 4,700 miners at Lupeni in 1996, said he and his colleagues were “treated worse than animals”. This was despite their trade getting benefits like free housing and good holidays. Adriana Sut, a widow from Lupeni whose husband died in a mine accident, received a 50 million lei (about USD$12,000 at the time) settlement following his death; it was a “fortune” by Romanian standards, but didn’t change that her apartment was in rough shape.^[14] Caila was rehabilitated in 1989, but still lived in a house without electricity.^[12]

The AP wrote in ’96:^[13]

In this industrial dead-end, workers’ families crowd into dank clusters of apartment buildings, children frolic in grimy courtyards, garbage rots in the street, chickens scratch the mud and rusty heating pipes zigzag among the houses. For entertainment, miners have liquor and foreign satellite TV.

Postolache sees no real progress since the 1989 revolution in which Communist dictator Nicolae Ceausescu was executed.

“All that’s changed is that we have bars and restaurants everywhere now,” he said.

The mines are in woeful shape, neglected by post-Communist leaders unwilling to pay for improvements. Tools and equipment are old, and basic materials such as wood for shoring mine shafts are in short supply.

At the same time, miners say bosses threaten to fire them if they do not meet production targets. Constantin Ionescu, director of the Lupeni mine, says its technology is 20 years out of date.

Ionescu said he expects Constantinescu to continue mine subsidies, but otherwise, “We’re not expecting a great deal from the new government.”

In 2024, the European Commission approved a €790 million package to help cover the expenses of closing “uncompetitive coal mines” in Lupeni, Lonea, Livezeni, and Vulcan. The aid included paying for the soon-to-be-unemployed workers as well as repairing any environmental damage to the land and the sites once they’re gone.^[15]

Lupeni ended operations on July 1; it and Lonea are slated to close for good at the end of 2026. Livezeni and Vulcan will follow suit before December 31, 2032.^[16]

The Lupeni Romaniacs section began on the second floor and required riding on the conveyor belt used to transport coal. Upon disembarking, riders took a sharp left and hopped onto the roof, completing a hairpin that led them back indoors. After weaving through the ruins, they were brought onto two ramps—an up and then a down—before sending it downhill on another coal belt.

The stretch ended by ascending the staircase and passing a corridor with a ceiling so low that you had to duck your head. Once outside, riders went around and into the adjacent brick building and back out to complete the sector.

Riders and fans alike were intrigued by the brutalist yet picturesque scenes inside and out at both mines. Manuel Lettenbichler called Lupeni a “crazy old mine” that was “also sick”. Some found its interior wouldn’t look out of place in Counter-Strike, perhaps similar to the warehouse in the map cs_assault. Maybe even a Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater map like Warehouse or Foundry?

“They put us through that abandoned… whatever it is,” said Adam Riemann about Petrila. His BMW F 900 GS finished Day 1 in 15th for Adventure Ultimate riders. “There were some steep, crazy concrete tunnels and stairs and they just throw everything at you. You don’t know what to expect with this race.”

Wait, Adventure Ultimate? Those big boys had to squeeze their way through the mines too?

Yes, exactly. Adventure bikes have appeared at Romaniacs since 2017, when three riders—Chris Birch, Quinn Cody, Gerhard Forster—competed in the Iron class. In 2025, proper Adventure classes were introduced and won by Pol Tarrés on his Yamaha Ténéré 700 (Ultimate) and Sam Sunderland with his Triumph Tiger 900 Rally Pro (Lite).

A Core category was added for 2026. The dual-sport motorcycles were separated from enduro bikes as part of a “Hard Adventure” wheras the latter competed as the usual “Hard Enduro”. Even then, both raced on the same course through the same landmarks and mines.

The increased presence meant more manufacturers would take part like CFMOTO, whose quads have already enjoyed hard enduro success at the Red Bull Erzbergrodeo in June. This time, the Chinese brand’s two-wheelers won all three categories with the 450MT. Mario Román beat Tarrés in Ultimate by 14:40, while Rene Columna had 11:42 on Sunderland for the Core victory. Chinese rider He Guishu claimed Lite by over half an hour over Adrian Raduta.

Sunderland, the former two-time Dakar Rally champion, led his class after the first two days before crashing and breaking the clutch lever. He continued solely on the clutch cable, but “it made the rest of the stage really difficult.” Still, he was pleased to finish runner-up on a nearly-stock Tiger 900 Rally Pro.

“I could probably write a book with all the stories I’ve lived this week, but that’s what these adventures are for,” Sunderland remarked. “I’m already looking forward to the next one.”

If going through century-old mines wasn’t historic enough, Lettenbichler got to make history himself. After winning Erzbergrodeo for a record-tying fifth straight year earlier this summer, he dominated Romaniacs to secure his seventh crown.

Lettenbichler has won the overall every year since 2019 save for 2022. That year, Graham Jarvis nicked his then-record seventh title.

He set the tone by leading qualifying at the Prologue, then finished third in the final. The German beat Teodor Kabakchiev across the first two days before the Bulgarian’s Sherco narrowly edged him out by 53 seconds on Day 3. Kabakchiev already faced an uphill battle as he trailed 18:44 going into the final day, and an early mechanical issue did him in for good as he watched Lettenbichler rode off.

“It’s honestly hard to put into words,” said Lettenbichler. “Riding through the final grass fields, I was just thinking about how far my career has come. To win Red Bull Romaniacs for the seventh time is something I never expected, and it’s an unreal feeling. Every victory here takes so much hard work and preparation, so this one is really special. I really enjoyed the riding this week.

“There were some incredibly tough sections, but I was able to ride my own race, especially on the final day, and really enjoy it. Crossing the finish line is always an amazing feeling, and one of the best parts of Romaniacs is sharing the experience with so many riders from all over the world. Everyone goes through the same challenges out there, and that makes this event really unique.”

513 riders—21 Gold, 73 Silver, 175 Bronze, 117 Iron, 30 Atom, 20 Adventure Ultimate, 32 Adventure Core, 32 Adventure Lite, and 13 eMoto Hobby—completed the race.

Class winners

Class	Number	Rider	Team	Total Time
Gold	1	Manuel Lettenbichler	Red Bull KTM Factory Racing	22:14:41
Silver	138	Sandon Kerswell	J. Dwyer Building	19:10:12
Bronze	321	Benjamin Richter	Team Sturm Zschopau	17:59:00
Iron	822	Nico Friedmann	Friedmann Extrem	14:39:01
Atom	937	Daniel Fasching	Fjallventure	14:52:11
Adventure Ultimate	1003	Mario Román	CFMOTO Racing Team	13:27:30
Adventure Core	1117	Rene Columna	CFMOTO Boxeracing	11:20:47
Adventure Lite	1223	He Guishu	CFMOTO China	12:06:40
eMoto Hobby	E80	Marin Dosch	DOWATEK Extreme Enduro Parts	6:22:45

References

[1] “An Activist Perspective on Industrial Heritage in Petrila, a Romanian Mining City” by Ilinca Păun Constantinescu, Dragoş Dascălu, and Cristina Sucală, The Public Historian 39, no. 4 (2017): 114–41

[2] “Furtive Selves: Proletarian Contradictions, Self-Presentation, and the Party in 1950s Romania” by Jack R. Friedman, International Labor and Working-Class History, no. 68 (2005): 9–23

[3] “Petrila Mine – from the pearl of coal mining to an entire Planet” by Aleksandra Sotirova-Delcheva, Economic.bg, February 7, 2025

[4] “Romanian Miners Hold Out For President’s Resignation”, The New York Times, September 28, 1991

[5] “Shrinking Cities in Romania: Former Mining Cities in Valea Jiului” by Ilinca Păun Constantinescu, Built Environment (1978–) 38, no. 2 (2012): 214–28

[6] “Crossed Wires” by Mike Gallagher, The Sunday Journal, July 22, 2001

[7] “INTRODUCTION: Deindustrialization, Heritage, and Representations of Identity” by Stefan Berger and Christian Wicke, The Public Historian 39, no. 4 (2017): 10–20

[8] “Dark Christmas” by Adrian Monti, The Argus, December 22, 1994

[9] “Rumania Shaken by Miners’ Protest” by David A. Andelman, The New York Times, November 27, 1977

[10] “One Hundred Rumanians Are Killed In Mine Explosion” by the Associated Press, Greensboro Daily News, May 1, 1922

[11] “Labor leader lives a life on the lam” by Mark J. Magyar, Asbury Park Press, February 10, 1991

[12] “În atenţia lupenenilor: / Pe Vasile Caila, grevistul, puteţi să-l găsiţi în istorie. Pe Vasile Caila, omul, nu-l mai căutaţi. S-a mutat săptămâna trecută la Dumnezeu…” by Martin Boboc, Ziarul Vaii Jiului, March 8, 2012

[13] “Romania miners feel betrayed” by Dan Petreanu (Associated Press), Laredo Morning Times, September 23, 1992

[14] “In Romania’s coal country, miners keep eye on new leaders” by Tony Czuczka (Associated Press), The Island Packet, December 23, 1996

[15] “Commission approves €790 million Romanian State aid measure to support closure of coal mines in Jiu Valley”, European Commission, November 14, 2024

[16] “The Jiu Valley Poised to Move Beyond the Coal Era” by Adrian Stoica, Energy Industry Review, June 10, 2026

Featured image credit: Attila Szabo / Red Bull Content Pool