UNSUPPORTED | THE THREE PEAKS BIKE RACE
I signed up for the Three Peaks Bike Race. A self-supported bikepacking race over 2300 kilometres and 35,000 metres of climbing from Vienna to Nice. In between, three checkpoints / parcours have to be tackled. This year, these are: a parcours in the Dolomites with Monte Grappa and Passo Manghen; the Grimsel Pass in Switzerland; and a parcours in the Vosges with the Grand Ballon and the Super Planche des Belles Filles. In between, all 350 participants plan the best possible route themselves. Every rider is responsible for food, navigation, accommodation and any technical problems. It’s a one-stage race: the first to tick off all the checkpoints and arrive in Nice is the winner. It's that simple...
So now I'm on the train to Vienna - to the start of the Three Peak Bike Race. I’ve just built my new bike, a hand-painted Stevens Arcalis, a week earlier. Two short test rides will have to suffice, it'll be fine. And the legs? They've been under the office desk more often than on the bike in recent months. At least I still had some time on the train to tinker with the route ...
Fortunately, I have experience from various bikepacking races all over the world. I know that as soon as it starts, everything becomes much more relaxed. Even if my form isn't perfect, I can benefit from countless kilometres over the past years and my legs actually know what to do. From now on, everything will be reduced to very primitive needs: Moving forward, eating, sleeping.
At 10:40 AM it’s my turn to roll out of Vienna in the direction of Mariazell. As I have already finished towards the front of similar events and even managed to win some, I know that my current form is not good enough to attack. And we all know, nothing will be decided in the first two days. I'm looking for my rhythm, but I quickly realise that the final spark just isn’t there. This unconditional determination to do everything as efficiently as possible in order to minimise stopping time. Because races like this are not only decided by fast legs, but by short breaks.
So I decide to allow myself a short stop at the bakery, a break in the cool shade or a visit at a gelateria every now and then. This doesn’t make me fast, but helps to keep the spirits high. By the evening I've covered around 330 kilometres. I treat myself to three hours of sleep on the floor of an open lounge at a lorry service area. A luxury place to spend the night, including a shower! Unfortunately, the various snack and coffee machines are buzzing, creaking and beeping the whole night. By the time the first grumpy lorry driver needs his coffee at four in the morning, the night's rest is over.
I can't really get going. My legs are good but my head is tired and motivation is low. The last few months have been very intense with work and organising and running my bikepacking events Züri Escape and DEAD ENDS & cake. I totally underestimated how tired I actually was.
Villach - a turning point. From here, there's a fairly direct train back to home in Switzerland... very tempting. But no, that's not an option! That’s not why I am here! I do what you should always do on long rides when doubts creep up on you - eat! Eat a lot! After a hearty second breakfast, I continued on the perfectly built Alpe Adria cycle path. Tunnels, bridges, gorges, mountains and all doubts were gone. A third breakfast in Tarvisio, this time typically Italian with cappuccino and brioche al pistacchio, revived my spirits and pushed me through the long flat section to the foot of Monte Grappa. The ascent to the Passo Manghen followed shortly afterwards. A beautiful pass, even in the constant rain. I reach the top of the pass and my bike computer shows that I have already covered over 4,200 metres in altitude today – at ten o’clock in the morning! Not too bad!
After the cool, rainy Manghen, it gets warmer kilometre by kilometre. On reaching the Adige Valley, the thermometer climbed to 37° and the route became flat. I don't like riding flat. It's monotonous, it lacks variety. The longer it's flat, the less pressure I put on the pedals. Maybe it's my technique, maybe it's the fact that my physique is that of a climber. But mainly it's my head - I just don't like it.To distract myself, I deliberately planned my route along the cycle path on the flat sections. The winding paths, sometimes on gravel, are a little slower than the main road, but offer a lot more variety. Villages, bakeries, little lakes, .... Distractions.
Although I have a bivy set-up with me, I often opt for a room during this race. Not because of the bed, but because of the shower. It was either 35 degrees or rainy and wet. Both are unhygienic conditions that encourage saddle sores. A shower and a hand wash of the bibs helped. I made it to the finish without any major complaints.
After three hours' sleep, it's time to get back into my still slightly wet but clean bibs at three in the morning. It's a day I've been looking forward to for a long time. Perfect weather and one Alpine pass after another. We're in Switzerland and I know the route by heart. I could ride the next 300 kilometres without a navigation device, it clears my head. Still in the dark, I climb the first obstacle of the day - the Albula Pass. Switchback after switchback, I head towards the pass. Apart from me and the cows in the meadow, there's no-one around. Complete silence and a starry sky that you never get to see in our brightly lit cities.
At the top of the pass, I take a quick breather, put on some warm clothes and eat the last bits of a sandwich from the previous day. Ready for a freezing cold descent at dawn. No traffic, no people. Until I meet the first early riser on a roadbike at the very bottom of the climb. We exchange a short encouraging ‘Allez’ and are happy not to be the only crazy ones.
After breakfast at a petrol station shop, I treat myself to a ten minute nap on a bench. Power naps like this don't do any good for the legs - but they do wonders for the mind and morale. Next up was the Oberalp Pass. The pass itself is beautiful and actually easy to ride thanks to the many switchbacks. But the approach takes forever. Always slightly uphill, usually with a bit of a headwind. Ironically, there is a lighthouse at the top of the Oberalp. So far away from the sea, but somehow on the right track. More icons of the Swiss Alps follow. Furka Pass, the virtual checkpoint on the Grimsel Pass and Brünig. I decided to end this magnificent but hot day around ten o'clock in the evening. Thunderstorms were forecast for the night, and 320 km and just over 6000 metres of climbing were quite ok for day four. Thanks to a mixture of pity and disbelief, the receptionist let me raid the breakfast buffet upon my arrival in the evening. Apologies to the other guests who had a half-empty breakfast buffet the next morning.
The alarm goes off three hours later - a thunderstorm is raging outside, the wind is whipping the rain against the window. I set the alarm again for half an hour. When I woke up, it was light outside and the clouds had cleared. I must never have set the alarm clock, so I ended up sleeping for almost eight hours. I overslept... never mind, it was nice! That is the big difference to race mode. There is no need to rush. I still ride quickly and try to be reasonably efficient. But the constant pressure and stress of always having to do everything as quickly as possible was gone. I could really enjoy it. I didn't care whether I finished 5 hours earlier or later. Self-supported races are often lonely. You spend countless hours alone, somewhere in the middle of nowhere. But you are never completely alone. Thanks to the GPS tracker, family and friends can always keep track of where you are. I receive countless messages. Sometimes a simple emoji or an Allez. Sometimes a story about a place I'm currently. It's distracting, fun and motivating. And then there are dotwatchers who come to the route and cheer you on. Sometimes these are friends or people I know from other races. But sometimes they are strangers who want to know how things are going and to wish me a good ride. But every single encounter puts a big grin on my face and gives me an incredible boost for the next few hours.
The Vosges - mountains again at last. The mandatory parcours starts at the top of the Grand Ballon, leads over the Ballon de Servance and then to the notorious Super Planche des Belles Filles. A wonderful route. Secluded, hardly any traffic and crisp climbs - just the way I like it. The Planche des Belles Filles is a legend, a short stretch of road with an incredible amount of Tour de France history and a very steep unpaved section towards the top. The iconic image of André Greipel carrying his bike to the finish because the 24° gradient of the last gravelsection was simply too steep for the sprinter to ride. And of course the countless attacks by Thibaut Pinot, who was born less than 20 kilometres away. Unfortunately, he never managed to win a stage on his home mountain in the Tour de France, but perhaps that is part of why he won the hearts of the fans. And so his name is painted hundreds of times on the steep switchbacks. I climb up the road in the rain and get goosebumps when I think of the crowd cheering on their beloved Thibaut. Images of the Tour play back in my mind. How I sat in front of the TV with my father and how we kept our fingers crossed for our favourites. We were never for the big winners, who calmly executed their programme and rushed from victory to victory. Our sympathies were with the impulsive, often unfortunate riders who tried again and again. Just like Thibaut.
Such mind games and distractions are extremely important in ultracycling. Most of the time you have something to do. Looking for water, shopping, finding a place for a power nap, putting on a rain jacket, taking off a rain jacket, ... But there are phases when you just ride along. The 400 kilometre long flat section from the Vosges to the foot of Alpe d'Huez was just such a part. Little variety, straight roads and enough food in the bags. Here you have to let your mind wander, talk to yourself, make plans for the future - keep yourself busy somehow. I saved a few of my favourite podcasts for this section of the route. So Justinas told me about his record-breaking ride on the Tour Divide while I was munching on pain au chocolat and rolling through the boring wasteland.
The flat section wasn't just mentally draining, my body was also starting to fight back. My knees were aching, my Achilles tendon was twitching ... It was about time that I finally got back to the mountains, that the final parcours finally began. A mandatory route was set from Alpe d'Huez to Nice and the organisers wanted to really test us again. A whopping 10,000 metres in altitude await us on the last 390 kilometres. With already 1900 kilometres in our legs.
As soon as I've completed the first bends to Alpe d'Huez, the knee pain is gone and my legs are turning almost by themselves again. I'm simply not made for the flatlands!
The final parcours with Alpe d'Huez, Col de Sarenne, Lautaret, Izoard, Vars, Bonette, Colmiane, Turini made the Col d'Eze seem tiny at the end. All these mythical mountains with their magnificent views let your mind wander and time fly by. At the Col d'Izoard, I am briefly woken from my daydreams by a violent thunderstorm. I seek shelter and treat myself to a power nap in a bus stop. The road outside is completely white from the heavy hail. It looks like the middle of winter. But shortly afterwards, the sky clears again and soon reveals the surreal rock formations of the Casse Déserte. An incredibly beautiful place and, to my surprise, a dry road down to Guillestre. Now my plan is actually simple. I feel fit, my legs are good, so I want to ride through the night and be in Nice by midday.
But you know how it is with these plans... On the ascent to the Col du Vars, thunderstorms are brewing again. The weather forecast for the night shows temperatures of around zero degrees, rain and wind for the Col de la Bonette. I decide that I don't want to take the risk. A thunderstorm at 2800 metres above sea level at night is uncomfortable. But then 70 kilometres downhill with wet clothes in the cold? That's just stupid. So I knock on the door of a restaurant in the village and with a bit of persuasion (or pity) I get a cheese-baguette and a bed. Happy me. At four in the morning, I set off on the last section. My knees are a bit rusty after the break, but it gets better with every pedal stroke. There are still 250 kilometres to the sea but the weather seems to reward me for my extra break. Bright blue skies and not a cloud in sight. I reach the Cime de la Bonette, the highest point of the route. The view is completely overwhelming. Hard to capture in pictures. I take a short break, enjoy the peace and quiet and know that I've actually made it. After over 2000 kilometres, the remaining 200 with a few smaller passes feel like a coffee ride. For breakfast I had a couple of pain au chocolat and a tarte aux myrtilles to fuel my legs. Col du Comiane and Col du Turini - pure pleasure! The landscape is changing, the houses are becoming more Mediterranean and, most noticeably, the tourists are changing. They are no longer hikers, climbers and campers. They are heavily perfumed beach tourists in pink polo shirts, white trainers and straw hats. It made me laugh. For a week, my contact with civilisation was limited to shopping and asking for a bed. And some conversations with other participants that I came across along the way. Mostly the same questions. How are you? Where did you sleep? How far are you riding today? And then the time had come - I could see the sea in the distance for the first time. An incredible feeling, a huge grin. All the doubts, the pain, the tiredness - everything vanished. The Col d'Èze was barely noticeable compared to the giants of the last few days. And then just downhill to Nice. Along the Promenade des Anglais to the finish. My girlfriend has bikepacked to Nice from Switzerland to meet me. Hugs, handshakes, a cold beer, sit down, gelato… Happy. Numbers: 2,303 km 35,240 m of up 7 days, 7 hours 25th place (out of 250 Solo starters) 0 flats or mechanicals 59,000 Calories burnt (equal to 34 pains au chocolat per day)
20/02
