The Sneak Peaks Adventure is an adventure in the truest sense. The route of this self-supported bikepacking event leads through the breathtaking landscapes of the Dolomites and the Julian Alps, demanding everything from participants. Above all, it’s the character of the event that makes it so special: self-reliance, the spirit of exploration and a deep connection with nature. It's not about competition or prizes – the experience is the most important aspect. Expect gravel paths, high alpine trails, memorable encounters and the special magic of Italian mountain huts. There, comradeship and relaxation go hand in hand.
This adventure gripped me immediately, and for several reasons. Raphael Albrecht, founder of Orbit360 and the man behind Sneak Peaks, is a close friend. I simply couldn't miss his first bikepacking race. Plus, the setting is one of my favourite places, with the backdrop of the stunning Dolomites and the Julian Alps. The enormous challenge appealed too: 37,000 metres (121,000 ft) of elevation over 1,000 kilometres (600 mi) and mostly off-road. Add to that the Italian food and hospitality in the 11 mountain huts, well, how could I resist?
The timing, however, was a real challenge. Only a week before, I had completed Further – Le Chemin de la Liberté, one of the toughest unsupported bikepacking races around. Nevertheless, I managed it – and was even the first to cross the finish line! However, it was anything but easy: severe storms and many other hurdles made it an unforgettable experience.
In this report, I take you through the race day by day. I hope my Sneak Peaks Adventure inspires and you too are able to discover what makes it so special.
My setup - Cervélo Àspero 5
I left my setup nearly unchanged to further. the reason being I just had little time to work on the bike and think about different setups and preparation. Therefore I serviced the bike, changed breakpads, cassette, chain, etc. and just made some small changes specific for what I expected in this race.
As I just finished an extremely hard race, I was not planning to sleep outside unless i had to. So a small SILCA Velo Grinta saddle bag would fit an emergency bivvy, UL sleeping mat and an 8C ultralight sleeping bag. Living on the edge. (As you will read later.)
Apart from that 7mesh Oro shakedry rain jacket and Revo 2/3 rain pants, a freeflow insulated jacket, some gloves, spare socks, vest, leg warmers, arm warmers, electronics (Powerbank, cables, charger plug), full BBB set of lamps including one mounted to my helmet with a GoPro mount and obviously some spares.
I like my bikes light and agile!
Here's the list:
- Cervélo Àspero-5
- Reserve Wheels 40|44 GR
- SRAM Red XPLR AXS 40 x 10-44t
- Ortlieb Waterproog fuel bag and frame bag in dark sand
- SILCA Velo Grinta saddle bag for minimal sleep setup as well as sicuro bottle cages and hot waxed chain with endurance chip. Ratchet tool is a must!
- POSEDLA Joyseat custom 3D printed saddle. 😍
- BBB front and rear lights plus helmet light
- Quoc Shoes GT XC for maximum power transition
- WAHOO ROAM v2
- Full 7mesh kit (RK2 Bibs, Pace jersey, Oro and Freeflow jacket, Revo pants, S2S vest, leg & arm warmers) of course! 🔥
Pizza and a relaxed briefing with mini golf
I don't even know where to start. Well, maybe with Raphael, the organiser of Sneak Peaks. We first met 2019 at the Silkroad Mountain Race in Kyrgyzstan. Since then, we keep bumping into each other somewhere in the world. I'd say we've built up a really good friendship!
I've been following his Orbit series for a long time, and now he's organised his first race. Sneak Peaks, starting in Bolzano, Italy - it just sounded too tempting. Of course I had to be there when Raphael organises something like this.
One thing made me sceptical though: I had completed ‘FURTHER Le Chemin de la Liberté’ in the Pyrenees just a week earlier. At the time, I really didn't know whether this was a good idea.
But the friendly faces at the starting point, the Ahoi Minigolf, and the really good pizza quickly made me forget my doubts.
The start and finish were a bit funny: a mini golf course. The Ahoi Minigolf wasn't the most ordinary place to start a bikepacking event, but watching cyclists in spandex playing minigolf and seeing the course filled with packed bikes was something special.
The staff were also incredibly friendly, there was plenty of space and of course there were toilets, you could even take a shower at the sports ground next door! There was also a kiosk and snack bar offering a good range of breakfast, pizza and more.
Rapha's briefing was relaxed as usual. A little techno music, a quick chat about the route. ‘Yes, there's a scree field, better not do it at night or in bad weather!’ and other points where you had to be careful. (More on this later...)
Many decided to camp directly on the mini golf course. I treated myself to the luxury of an AirBnB in Bolzano. A shower for myself and a good night's sleep should do me good.
In the morning I cycled relaxed to the start as a warm-up.
Day 1 - A proper adventure
There were a few sporadic problems with my shifting at the start, but as soon as I started the first really long climb, I found my rhythm.
It wasn't long before I was alone at the front. Nobody wanted to ride at my pace, which surprised me a bit, but I just did my thing. My plan was to ride fast, but with sufficient and good sleep.
The last part of the climb to Checkpoint 1 was then mostly too steep to ride. It was cold and foggy at the top, and the humidity meant that I quickly got soaked. I stormed into the hut, got my stamp and headed straight back down into the valley before I got really cold. I don't think the hut staff had any idea what had just happened. It was really tempting to stay - I promise I'll come back one day and enjoy the view then too! 😊
It soon started to rain. That hardly bothered me, as this year wasn't blessed with ‘normal’ weather anyway. It was either cold and wet or incredibly hot. Photographer Jakub took a picture of me at this moment - it looks pretty spectacular. 😜
The following hike-a-bike surprised me a little. Huge, wet, slippery slabs of rock and loose scree made progress difficult. There were also strong gusts of wind and thick fog. At one point I realised that I had probably lost my way. A glance at my Wahoo showed that I was only a few metres away from the actual path. Sounds simple, but it wasn't. There were huge boulders between me and the path and it was extremely slippery, especially on the bike.
Cold and just before sunset, I finally reached checkpoint 2, the Refugio Malga Consiera. Actually, I just wanted to cycle a little further and then find a hotel to wait out the worst of the rain. However, there was a women's World Tour race in the town I had chosen - and all the hotels were fully booked.
So I drove from the Refugio Malga Consiera into the valley, just 17 kilometres from the route, to a small hotel. But the ‘Hotel Spera’ was exactly what I needed. ‘’Are you riding a race? Are you going to win? If so, please write our hotel in your report!’ - No sooner said than done. A wonderfully hot shower and about five hours of sleep were definitely worth it.
Day 2 - Problems upon problems
I woke up on time for my alarm. I had taken two brioches to my room, which were now my breakfast.
A look at the Follow My Challenge live tracking map showed me that about eight riders had overtaken me. But no one was more than 40 kilometres ahead of me. I was a little worried that the hotel staff hadn't left my bike at reception after their service as agreed. But all was well, it was gently leant against the counter.
I left the hotel and set off into the night. The rain had subsided, but it was still wet and cold. I made good progress at the start. I was well rested and rolling.
Then came the Passo Brocon and was waiting for me with a confusing hike-a-bike. Certainly nice during the day, but at night ... nerve-wracking. You could forget the GPS here and the path was really hard to find. The ascent to the pass was steep throughout, and it felt like it took forever to get up - even after I was able to ride again.
But it soon got light and I could at least marvel at the fantastic panoramas again. At the top of the pass it was wet and cold. At least I didn't get tired.
Somehow it felt as if I would never get a break here: hard hike-a-bike, steep, endlessly long climb, short descent on tarmac - and the same thing all over again. The ascent to Refugio Scarpa was the cherry on the cake. I had to work hard for CP3. Constantly brutally steep and sometimes rocky, I often had to descend here. At the top I had to get back into the fog. So I wasn't really dry either.
Luckily I got warm tea and coffee at the refugio, as well as cake. The friendliness of the refugios was just great! My friend Phil, aka ‘Ballern Ballern’, was also there. He rode through the night, was completely destroyed and slept there. He was the first one on the track - so I had caught up with everyone again. So let's get on with it.
Things are going better than I thought.
Then suddenly, on a fairly unspectacular road climb, there was a loud bang. A quick glance at the rear wheel showed me that one of my spokes had snapped. The wheel was still running without rubbing against the frame and I was VERY sure that a spare wheel wouldn't break, but I urgently needed to find a bike shop to repair the spoke.
That wasn't easy at all. ‘Tubeless? No, we don't do that.’ - ‘We're taking a lunch break now. You can come back in three hours.’ - ‘We only do e-bikes.’ It was frustrating.
FI finally found a shop that wanted to help me, but there were two more climbs to get there. So I rode pretty much full on to get there before 6pm. The mechanics at Shop Officina 33 didn't often have a bike like mine in the workshop, I think. They were very curious and also spotted a few details that you can't (yet) buy. 😜
Spoke changed, brake pads replaced, a few carb mix drinks and recovery powder taken along - and then off to CP4, the Refugio Antelao. Super cool hut! So nice, small and warm. And yet I had to get back out into the dark and the fog.
The single track at the top was slippery because of the rain and extremely exposed. I just hoped the others wouldn't crash here in the complete darkness. I rode back down into the valley to Pieve di Cadore. I actually wanted to go further, but I couldn't find any accommodation further away that would take me in so late.
So I simply walked into an Albergo and asked for a room. ‘50 €. Do you like breakfast? Ok, here you have brioche and juice. Have as much as you want.’ It was one of the most run-down hotels I've ever stayed in. Original furnishings from the 70s - with original cobwebs and antique furniture. Luckily I didn't catch any bed fleas here.
I slept for about five hours ...
Day 3 - Hello Slovenia! 🇸🇮
I got up with my alarm clock and had a quick breakfast of brioche. Looking at the map, I realised that everyone else had stopped at the Refugio behind me. So I was still the first. This surprised me, as I had expected someone to ride through the night.
I set off into the surprisingly warm night. First a bit down to a lake, then a loooong way up. At first it was gravel and even a bit of singletrack (I sang the whole time so the animals knew I was coming 😅), then there was a tarmac climb. The higher I got, the colder it got again. The fog made everything wet and unpleasant.
At the top of the pass, I saw the Refugio Fabbro. I had actually intended to arrive here before I slept. Too bad, it looked very inviting.
The descent was basically blind - I could see absolutely nothing. In fact, it was better to ride without headlights, even though it was pitch black.
The climb to Sauris di Sopra was incredibly steep. The concrete slab paths almost forced me to get off my bike. I agonised my way up. As soon as I left the village, I was faced with another tarmac climb that seemed impossibly steep. I had to laugh. Even pushing, my shoes slipped. As the altitude increased, the fog came in again. Somehow, views from the peaks just didn't seem to be granted to me.
This whole section dragged on forever. It was constantly up and down, the path was bumpy and rocky, and steep uphill stretches demanded everything from me. There were hardly any sections where you could make fast progress.
The descent to Ovaro was incredibly steep. It felt more like a slide all the way down. First we went over a concrete slab road, then over tarmac.
When I arrived in Ovaro, I urgently needed a refuel. I literally raided the supermarket - the fact that you can buy pizza by weight at the counter in Italy is simply brilliant. Well refuelled and with my pockets full, I set off to tackle the legendary Monte Zoncolan.
Before that, however, a short hike-a-bike awaited me, which completely destroyed my morale. ‘Isn't a climb with an average gradient of 16 per cent enough?’ I thought. Never mind. I overtook a few suffering cyclists and finally made it to the top.
The descent dragged on forever and really shook me up. It was at moments like this that I sometimes questioned the choice of my Cervélo Aspero gravel bike.
The route then continued through the valley, albeit in the heat, but at a really good speed. The Tagliamento is an impressive river that I marvel at every time. It was nice to cycle through here again.
Friuli is so wild and offers breathtaking panoramas. From the motorway, I had often seen a small road that winds through the mountains with countless tunnels. Now I was finally cycling it!
The long climb to CP5, the Refugio Giacomo di Brazza, still lay ahead of me, but I felt great and literally flew up the mountain. When I reached the top, I was greeted with applause and shouts. They served me pasta and my favourite non-alcoholic beer in record time.
I thanked them warmly and made my way to Slovenia via the Passo Predil. It hurt to skip the Mangart even though I was so close, but it really would have been too much.
I cycled down to Bovec and treated myself to a hostel for a few hours.
Day 4 - The storm approaches ⛈️
Before I went to bed, I checked the weather forecast and knew that massive storms were coming the next day in the afternoon. So I knew that I wanted to get as far away from the storms as possible.
I don't even want to know what the other people in the dorm room thought when my alarm went off at 2am and I quietly left the room. It was a pleasant night, and after a bit of a downhill warm-up on the road, I headed uphill, first on tarmac and then on an increasingly rocky, bumpy forest road.
Because of my work with the Lynx Trail and exchanges with Slovenian biologists, I know about the many bears in Slovenia. Any noise startled me and I made sure that the animals could hear me from a distance - by singing, humming or clearing my throat. Perhaps a little paranoid, but I didn't want to take any risks here.
The descent was so bumpy that I wished I had a mountain bike. Over the course of several days, your supporting muscles weaken and you simply don't stay as agile. Every impact on my hands hurt. Fortunately, I soon made it down.
Down by the road, I discovered a perfect bus stop: a little house with a wooden bench and enough space for my bike. So I took a short power nap. It did me good and I cycled on through Kobarid. The further I cycled into the valley, the colder it got - probably because of the humid air along the Soča.
The journey to the Vršič Pass was a long one. It was constantly up and down, over steep ramps, but never really straight or fast. I had also misjudged the amount of food I needed.
I had to ration and couldn't eat as much as I wanted. The smaller markets were all closed.
.
I suffered my way up the hairpin bends of the Vršič Pass very slowly. A few emergency gels that I had saved were very helpful. Nevertheless, the signs on the hairpin bends counted down from 50 and it felt like an eternity until I reached the top.
At the top, I looked back and could already see the dark clouds coming up the valley. The wind was strong. I got my stamp at the Poštarski dom na Vršiču. Again, the staff were super friendly and the terrace full of guests applauded when I parked my bike and walked in. I got a couple of protein bars and a sandwich - very good!
I rolled on quickly, but had already written a message to Raphael saying that I would take a train back from Tarvisio if the weather really got that bad. The plan quickly came to nothing: of course, the Italian railway company was on strike that very day.
All right then, just get to the next checkpoint, the Casera Cason di Lanza, as quickly as possible - and off I went! I looked at the map and was sure that the first of the two climbs before the Lanzenpass was the Bartolo saddle. But suddenly my Wahoo beeped and showed me that I had lost my way.
I backtracked and discovered the narrow path that had taken me off the actual route. This was definitely a hike-a-bike - and quite exposed. A few hikers came towards me and I quickly realised that this was the Alpe-Adria-Trail. By the time I had completed the two climbs, mostly with the bike on my shoulder, it was already starting to rain.
I wasn't entirely happy with this section: exposed, with lots of landslides, brutally steep - but also with some fun singletrail passages in between.
I already knew the old road down to Pontebba from a gravgrav route that we had scouted. It's brilliant and it's unbelievable how a road was carved into the rock back then. However, it's badly deteriorated and I thought all my limbs would fall off as I rode down it.
There was a big festival in Pontebba and I had to pass through crowds of people and closed roads. By now it was raining heavily and I still had the Passo del Cason di Lanza ahead of me. It's steep, on tarmac, but long and gruelling. Further up there was a sign: ‘This road is life-threatening!’ Perhaps for car drivers.
You could see how the tarmac was sinking towards the valley in some parts, and every now and then sections were closed off. By the time I reached the top, it was raining so hard that I practically had a shower included. The wind picked up and darkness slowly set in.
When I arrived at the hut, there was confusion. The people there didn't really know what I wanted. It wasn't until I showed them the stamp behind the bar and the ‘chef ’ came out of the kitchen that everything clarified.
"Pasta al ragù?’ - ‘Sì, prego. E anche una birra analcolica." Instead, I was served a normal beer: ’You need strength, boy!’
When I asked for a** second portion of pasta**, a huge grin spread across the ‘’chef's‘’ face. By now the rain was pelting down so hard on the roof that conversation was barely possible. The TV was showing images of devastation and flooding further south in the country.
I was to spend almost twelve hours here and slept soundly - partly because the power failed.
Day 5 - An abnormal storm 🥶
My first attempt to get up was sobering. When the alarm clock rang, it was very stormy outside. Enough to decide not to even try. I also realised that nothing was charged - the power had gone out.
An hour later, however, I got up and packed my things. According to the rain radar, it was supposed to rain less around 9 and stop completely around midday. Somehow this moment never really materialised, so I set off a little after 9am. The hut keepers prepared me coffee and breakfast and wished me all the best.
It wasn't too bad at first. Downhill, of course, it was wet and cold. Then it was uphill on a steep forest road. I even opened my jacket here because it was raining a lot less. I soon left the forest and a rough, high alpine landscape cloaked in grey opened up in front of me.
But the rain got worse than before, and suddenly gusts of wind came towards me, forcing me to dismount. It was like a comedy - I could barely make any progress against the wind. Even pushing, it felt like a full sprint to even move forwards. The rain turned to hail, and as if that wasn't enough, I could hear thunder getting closer and closer.
Only one option left. I had to get across and away from the storm as quickly as possible. As if the ‘gods’ had heard me, I came round a bend - and suddenly three white sheepdogs were chasing me, barking loudly. Who would have thought that I could ride uphill so fast at that moment? They soon let go of me.
At the end of the road, a small path led up to Monte Paularo. I pulled my Freeflow insulation jacket under my rain jacket. My fingers were so numb that I could barely get the zip closed. The thunder was getting closer and fog was gathering around the summit. Seeking shelter wasn't an option - it was too cold, I wouldn't survive it. I was already in a mild state of hypothermia.
There was only one thing I could do: run. So I ran as fast as I could with the bike over my shoulder up the trail and then down towards the valley. Luckily, the descent was only technical at the beginning and I was soon able to ride again.
At the bottom, I found myself in a mining village. A wide gravel road took me to the next village. The sun was shining there, it was getting warm, and there was a bar with an open door in front of me. Slapstick, you could say. I had to laugh. Double espresso, cornetto, strudel - grazie, a la prossima!
Now all that was left was the climb to the Refugio Marinelli, the next checkpoint. The road was steep, but I was motivated to make up for lost time. The feeling of warmth slowly returning to my body was marvellous. The scenery was breathtaking and I rode up the mountain as if in a trance.
I knew that Raphael and the media crew were waiting at the top. Extra motivation! Only one motorcyclist overtook me. Just before I reached the top, photographer Jakub ran alongside me: ‘We didn't think you could ride up here! Damn, now I have to run up.’
When I arrived at the hut, I ordered food, non-alcoholic beer and, of course, more coffee. A familiar face was sitting in the corner. He looked at me and just said: ‘Respect...’ Another participant who had started together with me and had switched to the Classic route. Now I had caught up with him again. So I wasn't as slow as I thought I was.
After an interview and a nice chat with Raphael, I carried on. My goal was to get to the next checkpoint, the Refugio Fanes.
Fanes? Unfortunately, it was not possible to take the original route as the storm was too dangerous. We could only see the Carnic Alps from a distance. To be honest, however, the tarmac diversion was also beautiful and it felt great to be able to just ‘’push on the pedals‘’ here.
After a final resupply in Toblach, I headed back into the mountains. Shortly after sunset, I was already heading towards the ascent to Refugio Fanes. I even stopped for a hot meal - why not?
But the climb to the Refugio demanded everything of me. Incredibly steep, loose gravel, gloomy and cold. It was demoralising after I had hoped to be at the top around 11am. Well, I could at least imagine how beautiful it must be here. The sound of the roaring stream was impressive and inspiring.
I soon arrived at the refugio. A steep descent with loose gravel led there and demanded my full concentration once again. But everything was dark. The door was locked, only a stamp was placed in front of it. I didn't really want to sleep outside, but the terrace seemed to be my best option.
So I had to unpack my emergency sleeping set-up after all. At least I found a power socket and was able to charge all my devices. It would certainly be a good bivvy spot for three hours ...
Day 6 - Getting it done! ✅
This time I woke up before my alarm clock despite setting a short timer. My whole body was shaking and I couldn't really sleep anyway. The wood on the terrace glistened all around me, and my breath threw up impressive clouds of condensation.
But I didn't really want to get up and continue cycling in this cold. The thought of getting out of my sleeping bag now was not at all appealing. So I tried to sleep a little longer until it got light and just curled up.
At some point I had to recognise that it was pointless and just got up. Well: I put on my insulated jacket in my sleeping bag, then stood up so that my legs were still in the sleeping bag, packed everything that was possible in this position back onto my bike and only rolled up my bivvy at the end. Then I started the short but steep climb out of the hollow where the Refugio Fanes was located.
It took a while for me to warm up. But the sunrise ... WOW! I'm sure you can see it in the photos, but I have to say: no camera in the world can capture a moment like this.
It soon became more technical, and pushing and carrying were soon the order of the day. Over steep steps I headed towards the valley, and a few hikers came towards me.
The looks on my dropbars spoke volumes.
Once again, I had run out of the food I really wanted and needed too early. On the way to the Passo Gardena I looked for resupply, but unfortunately couldn't find much. Two pieces of cake and an espresso at a hotel bar had to do the trick.
On the ascent to the Grödner Joch, however, I noticed my knee and had to take it easy. I guess the extremely steep climbs to Refugio Marinelli and Refugio Fanes, combined with my fatigue, had left their mark on me. So, I struggled up and over to Wolkenstein.
There I finally found a supermarket and stocked up on all sorts of things - including pizza from the counter! A yoghurt drink to cool my knee, and off I went.
I was confused: according to the map, there were supposed to be lots of Classic and Entrée riders here, but I didn't meet anyone. It would actually have been nice to have someone to talk to.
The rest of the route led through incredibly beautiful panoramas to the Sasso Lungo, along dreamlike single trails and forest roads. Unfortunately, the paths were also full of hikers, some of whom were not very enthusiastic, but it was still a mega experience!
The descent seemed incredibly long. With magnificent panoramas, sometimes fast, sometimes technical, sometimes steep and winding. There was definitely no danger of falling asleep here!
At the bottom of the valley, I cycled along the Ciclovia for a while and quickly filled up with water at one of the fountains. Now there were only two more climbs to the finish.
The first was a real monster: around 1,600 metres in altitude in one go, often over ten percent steep, especially in the lower section. My knees were not happy. I decided to listen to music in one ear and concentrate on working my way up.
Almost at the top, Raphael and the media crew came to meet me. ‘How are you here already? We weren't expecting you for a long time.’ I really didn't feel fast, but this outside perspective was motivating.
A short off-road section uphill, then a confusing downhill with a few pushing sections. I had to find my way over fences and sometimes unclear passages. ‘Please no ultra-hard section right before the finish, Rapha!’ I said to myself. Self-talk becomes more and more frequent over the course of such races. 😂
One last time lollies, non-alcoholic beer and a yoghurt drink (also for the knee) in the last village, and off I went on the final climb. My knee felt much better and I was able to pedal at normal wattage again. (Yes, I'm one of those nerds who likes to monitor everything with numbers and data. 😜)
I also realised that my friend Mario was only just ahead of me! I should catch up with him soon. But no sign of him until the end of the climb. It was a mini-hike-a-bike, then it was downhill on forest roads.
Suddenly I saw him and his friend standing at the side of the path. They were repairing a flat tyre. I stopped and Mario immediately realised it was me. We laughed and hugged each other. ‘You do realise this is incredibly embarrassing for us that you've caught up with us?’ I played it down, of course, and asked if they needed anything. ‘No, it's fine, go on and get it!’
**Ok, see you later - for pizza and beer!
The descent was fantastic. Perfect golden light, idyllic pastures with cows and breathtaking South Tyrolean mountain panoramas. A few farmers were also finishing their day and heading down into the valley. They made way and waved me past in a friendly manner.
I soon reached the road and realised that it led all the way down. And the descent was wild! My Wahoo showed a maximum speed of 96 km/h. We went through 360-degree tunnels and it got warmer with every kilometre.
The houses of Bolzano became visible and I was already looking forward to the finisher beer - and 1, maybe 2 pizzas. While I was still fantasising about the pizzas, I heard the sound of techno music from afar.
‘It must be Raphael at the finish line’, I laughed.
But I hadn't expected the welcoming committee. There must have been a delegation of 30 to 40 people standing there, shouting, whistling, clapping and gathering around me when I arrived.
The team from Ahoi Minigolf even handed me a sparkler. Jakub captured it well, of course ;)
After a beer and some small talk, I only had one thought: pizza! _"A vegetariana, a pizza ahoi and a marinara, please. And a non-alcoholic wheat beer." The waitress laughed. I devoured my pizzas and started looking for a hotel room.
The hotel staff were also very impressed at the breakfast buffet. I guess the Sneak Peaks Adventure had taken a lot out of me.
**Thanks to the Orbit360 team and all the helpers, especially the rifugios! The spirit of the event was characterised by the friendly faces and the thought of these very literal refuges!
Ein letzter Kommentar
Finally, I would like to share one more thought. After the race and also during the race I received many comments and stories that heroised my ride and portrayed it as almost superhuman.
I'm not a fan of such heroic stories! Yes, I had been faster than the rest of the field, and yes, it had happened shortly after another race where I had gone full throttle, but you still need to keep things in proportion:
If you take a closer look at my setup, you will see that I took a hugely different approach compared to the other participants. I took high risks with little equipment, but I also almost always spent the night in hotels. Of course, I was also lucky. Apart from the situation at Monte Paularo, I always got out of it lightly and didn't have any snow or other extreme conditions on the bike.
There is nothing heroic about bikepacking, and anyone who does it for the glory is doing something wrong in my opinion. There are more than enough uncomfortable moments and a ton of very unheroic thoughts every day.
I am happy and proud of how I had done at the race and also of the position I finished in. However, I am aware and very open about the fact that this had not been the performance of the century.
For me, however, the most important things are the spirit in which the event was organised, the landscape, the people along the route and the stories that I will take with me for the rest of my life. Especially the great organisation and the impressively relaxed party, but also the fascinating adventure atmosphere that Raphael and his Orbit360 team created there!
A big thank you for a very unique event, I hope to return soon!