Pizza, puddles, and packing problems
Some say that an ultra-cycling adventure begins with the starting signal. I say it begins with the desperate attempt to squeeze half the living room into a bike bag. Weeks of training, lists full of “I mustn’t forget this!” and anxious glances at the weather radar are all part of it.
Thursday – Verona calls
The flight to Italy went smoothly, and Verona welcomed me with temperatures above 30°C and a warm “Benvenuto.” My Airbnb was centrally located, and the bike was reasonably easy to assemble – although my cheap Allen keys already showed signs of having been waved through quality control rather than actually being checked.
In the evening, I treated myself to my first Italian pizza in a long time. In short: I was so happy at that moment that I could have turned around right there and headed straight back to Norway.
Friday – Off into the rain
70 km to Rovereto, the starting point, lay ahead. The weather forecast? Unfortunately as accurate as a Swiss watch: rain, but at least above 20 °C. On the way, I overtook a few fellow competitors – a side effect of constantly switching between “leisurely chatting” and “fast legs.”
In Rovereto, I picked up my starting documents, had pizza again (purely for the carbohydrates, of course!) and attended a briefing, where I thought one thing above all else: a good Allen key set is not a luxury, but life insurance. So I quickly drove to the hardware store. Later, this would prove to be the right decision.
Start, room shortage and the cling film fiasco
Saturday – The official start
In the morning at the hotel, I had breakfast to go, because at 8:00 a.m. sharp – and with rain starting to fall – I was standing in row two, with what felt like 350 riders behind me. The first few kilometers along the Adige River toward Bolzano were like something out of a picture book… if the picture book had been painted in watercolors.
After Bolzano, I separated from my group to ride at my own pace on the Brenner Pass. I like many Alpine passes, but the Brenner? More like the “radio play with highway noise” category. Once at the top: the weather changed to “continuous rain until Innsbruck.” Nevertheless, it went better than expected.
In Mittenwald, a French participant realized that his booking hadn’t worked out. Of course, I shared my room with him. One room, two soaking wet riders, and an attempt to dry our clothes that was about as successful as sunscreen in a thunderstorm.
Sunday – Early start with cling film
Mittenwald, 6 a.m.: My clothes were still as wet as they had been at the end of yesterday’s stage. But on we go – along small roads towards Bad Tölz.
The weather had a sense of humor. First a brief sun salutation, then a cloudburst between Lenggries and Bad Tölz, which forced me to unpack my latest piece of equipment: cling film. Purchased in Innsbruck to keep my shoes dry somehow – it looked as if I had plastic boots from a discount store for experimental kitchen fashion. At least it was functional.
Breakfast break with caffeine overload In Bad Tölz, I retreated to a bakery, and two coffees and a decent amount of pastries later, I was on my way again. Destination: Munich, checkpoint 1. The route along the Isar and the canal was beautiful, but as always in Bavaria, the weather changed on cue. At Marienplatz, I got my first stamp in my brevet booklet. Sunshine, good spirits, reasonably dry shoes – until the next rain shower came, barely two kilometers further on.
Pizza, friends & schedule chaos In Freising, I had a meeting with old college friends – outside at an Italian restaurant, pizza ordered… and promptly another thunderstorm came. So we went inside the restaurant and continued chatting. The planned 45-minute lunch break turned into almost two hours. The schedule was ruined, but the conversation was worth every minute. Nevertheless, the route to Regensburg dragged on like poorly baked chewing gum. Constant small hills, constantly putting on and taking off rain gear. A gas station saved me on the last few kilometers to Kallmünz – although the cyclist in front of me had bought all the bread rolls. All that was left was sweets. Not ideal, but calories are calories.
Monday – sunshine, Edeka, and a “fan moment”
The day began on the Five Rivers Cycle Route towards Amberg – sunshine and a tailwind, a rare luxury.
First Edeka, first coffee break, first encounter of the day: a woman asked if I was participating in NorthCape 4000. “Sure,” I said, “and 400 others too.” It turns out she runs the only bike shop in the region – and hurried home to “prepare for the rush.”
Welcome to the Czech Republic – and back in the rain.
The Upper Palatinate was hilly, then I headed towards Cheb. The city would certainly have had a lot to offer, but in the constant rain I was more interested in “clocking up the miles.”
After Cheb, the road got bad, then better again. On the descent to Kraslice, I underestimated the cold shock – without rain gear, I rode into the downpour and was so stiff when I reached the bottom that I could hardly get out of the pedals. Fortunately, there was an immediate climb that brought me back up to operating temperature. In the evening, a table with a sign appeared at the side of the road: “NorthCape 4000 – help yourselves.” Bananas, granola bars, water – and shortly afterwards, the friendly donor himself.
Late in the evening, soaking wet, I found a hotel near Chemnitz and was just grateful for a shower and a roof over my head.
Tuesday – Wet start and painful surprises
Breakfast? Yes. Staying dry? Not for two minutes. No sooner had I left the hotel in Chemnitz than it started pouring with rain. Fortunately, two kilometers later, there was a bakery – coffee, rolls, and waiting for a weather window.
Since Klingenthal, I now had a new trio of travel companions:
* Left knee: complained with every incline
* Right Achilles tendon: pulled, offended
* Seat: developed a whole new level of pain that I had never experienced before as a road cyclist
Kinesio tape helped with my knee and heel. The only things that helped with the seating problems were patience, medical support, and a slightly altered riding position.
Torgau – The best curry in Europe
In Torgau, after visiting a pharmacy, I treated myself to Indian food – and I’m not exaggerating when I say it was the best Indian food I’ve ever had in Europe. The owner was so friendly that he let me park my bike in the middle of the restaurant. I took the opportunity to reorganize my equipment – all completely natural for my host.
New acquaintances and XXL Bifi
Behind Torgau, in Brandenburg, I met Philipp from Switzerland. Nice guy, good pace – except he had a bundle of XXL Bifi sausages on his luggage rack, which hung in my field of vision like a silent companion. I’ll be honest: this image of the Bifi pyramid haunted me all the way to the North Cape. At least the sun came out. No rain, no wet clothes – almost like a little vacation moment.
Berlin – training metropolis and checkpoint 2
I rolled into the capital at around 7 p.m. Fascinating: entire streets were reserved for cyclists, and huge groups of racing cyclists were using the end of the working day for training laps.
At 9 p.m., I stood at the Brandenburg Gate – unfortunately too late for the checkpoint stamp. But no matter, the hotel was only four kilometers away, and next door there was a kebab shop offering falafel. The perfect end to a day that offered everything from pain to sunshine to thoughts of Bifi.
