Cycling ultra distances in a short period of time is like going to an endless, sweat-soaked endurance party. Make that party in the mountains and it turns into an emotional rollercoaster; think druggy highs of plummeting descents versus the dark mental clouds of potential defeat during long hairpin climbs with lactic acid fizzing through your muscles. With this analogy in mind, it was with some trepidation that Pete and I attempted to cross Switzerland West to East from Geneva to Friedrichshafen in southern Germany. This was to be a 425 mile route across the Swiss Alps to be completed in 4 days and against a deadline – getting there in time for the world’s largest outdoor clothing and equipment trade show.
We arrived at Geneva airport late at night. Sweating hard in the stifling heat we re-built our bikes and collapsed onto our mats for a few hours sleep, a broken by crunching, faulty air conditioning and what seemed to be Geneva’s entire homeless population seeking sanctuary in the airport building. At 4am we could take no more and rode off into the night, cycling in the cool breeze around Lake Geneva and watching the sun rise over the distant mountains. By breakfast we’d ridden a good 45 miles and as the sun rose higher, at its zenith the heat became grosser and more oppressive. We cruised up high through vineyard after vineyard and swooped low through lake shore villages, eventually meeting the lake source and the mighty Rhone. The Rhone was to be our path uphill for the next two days and only at the watershed would we see downhill roads again. Finally at 7pm and after 14 and ½ hours of cycling we collapsed into our tent sipping Weiss beer, our favourite tranquilizer.
The following morning we were up and fighting at 5:30am and began climbing almost immediately, putting in 30 miles before breakfast. This was to be the day of the steep mountain bike trails; not so easy on a cross bike loaded with bursting panniers. We kicked, scrambled and cursed our way up and down ravines to the soundtrack of Swiss cattle bells ringing out through the forests. We climbed deeper and deeper into the belly of the mountains and eventually in pouring rain arrived late at night below our first big pass, which loomed ominously in the dusky mist. The campsite owner very kindly put us into a straw filled Yurt and after beers and a highly calorific meal we settled down onto our straw bales and slipped into unconscious oblivion.
As the sun rose we left the comfort of the Yurt behind and began the long intimidating climb up Furka pass; for James Bond, the set for Goldfinger and for us, a sweat-soaked three hour battle. The pass hangs over the lower roads like a dragon’s tail and you know you are gaining altitude when you climb higher and witness the spectacular view down onto the Rhone Glacier – the source of the mighty river. The summit at 2400m brought both elation and the sight of sassy Italian moped riders pushing their steeds to the limit. After a quick manly handshake and pint of electrolytes we whipped down the other side into the waiting arms of the beautiful town of Andermatt and the most chocolatey crepe we’ve ever eaten. Once fuelled up we began to climb our second pass - the Oberalp. As it was now midday we were constantly buffeted by motorbikes and super cars. It was like being in an episode of Top Gear except you’re the person stupid enough to ride a bike on scary hairpins whilst Jeremy Clarkson drives down the road. The summit came at 2100m and after negotiating our way through throngs of Italian and Swiss tourists we began the long delicious descent. Down and down we zoomed, past cows with bells, one man playing an alphorn and gorgeous chalets – all very Heidi meets Milka chocolate. Some forty miles later and at the end of a very long valley we hit another long climb and were forced to circumnavigate numerous long road tunnels. Finally at 8pm we found our way into a campsite and spent the remains of the evening standing in the pouring rain eating dehydrated pasta and rice pudding.
Day four was glorious and we could taste victory from the start. We spent the first half of the day following the Rhine down a flat valley for miles and miles. We took turns to slipstream against the headwind riding until at last we reached Lake Bodensee. By now the sun beat down upon us as we rode around the gorgeous lake and dodged packs of German tourists, but finally at 3pm and a final day of 130 miles, we reached our destination. After checking into our small hotel and checking we were in good shape (I felt pummeled by the sun!), we sat next to our steeds in an apple orchard, drinking cool Weiss beer, relieved that we had made it on time and excitedly began planning our next ultra distance ride.
Words and images by Paul Cosgrove
Posted on Wednesday, 10 August 2011
