Bikepacking: A Journey of One Thousand Miles (Part 1)

Part 1 of my journey of one thousand miles, across the European alps started in Switzerland. My plan was to ride across Switzerland through the Bernese Oberland & Graubunden, aiming to cross the border into Italy near Livigno.

As crazy as a journey of one thousand miles across the alps may sound, it was a relatively safe route for my first multiday, long distance challenge. I was in very well developed countries, never far from a town and never far from conveniences. Corruption and crime rates are pretty low across western Europe. I had kit, enough to consider myself self-sufficient.

The world of bikepacking is something that has captivated me ever since I knew it existed. From cycling epic locations worldwide, to gear, to bikes. I love the obsessive geekiness. This journey of one thousand miles was an expression of how I interpret bikepacking and adventure cycling – simply scribbling down a list of places I wanted to visit and passes I wanted to ride. From there I just did a dot-to-dot, trying to best fit as many things on my route across the alps, in a given time frame.

The idea of cycling solo and unsupported was a personal choice, I’m very much an independent person. There’s a world I want to see and dreams I want to fulfil. After breaking my back last year, I learned life was too short to wait around. Everybody gets one shot at life, I plan to make it count. One day I won’t be able to cycle a journey of one thousand miles across the alps, the 19^th of July wasn’t that day.

This was to be my first long distance, multi day challenge. My pre-ride prep consisted of a 100 mile ride, commuting by bike and a 3-day bikepacking epic shakedown in the lake district. Hardly a prelude to success you might say, but I figured there is no point gradually working my way up – I aspired to do a journey of one thousand miles eventually, so I may as well jump straight in!

LEJOG had crossed my mind, but then the lure of travel and alpine wonder gripped me. I’m not a fan of the UK lifestyle at the moment, obsessive career ladder workaholics, political uncertainly and general half-hearted whatabouterry with climate change and plastic pollution.

The Alps have kind of evaded me over the years. I had been whitewater kayaking there several times, but always felt I wanted to explore further. This journey of one thousand miles gave me the opportunity to do that; no fixed route, just me, taking it all in and exploring everything. I wanted to make my own route, my expression of adventure, fulfilling my own personal bucketlist. I set off, seeking altitude, iconic climbs and alpine wonder.

After 2 days driving though the UK & France (thanks parents!), setting my bike up in the train station car park in Kandersteg was a fath, fussing, double and triple checking everything.

I boarded the train from Kandersteg to Ausserberg to begin my journey towards Zermatt, full of nerves and fear. Did I have everything? What if I didn’t enjoy it? What if something went wrong? But the further the train went, the more excitement started to kick in. A liberating sense of ‘f*ck it’ took over. I realised I was committed; I couldn’t back down. The only way was forward. I couldn’t allow negativity. I’d meticulously planned this, I started focussing on what could go right. If it went wrong, I’d find a way to fix it. I’ve winged 24 years of life, I can wing this too, I naively thought!

I recalled my ‘why’ motivation. I wanted to do this, I wanted to explore the alps. I wanted to ride my bike 1000 miles across 4 countries. I wanted to ride my over packed bike 40km uphill in the wrong direction!

Yeah… I started my 1000mile trans-alpine bike ride on a train, followed by riding 40km the wrong way. I wanted to start this journey somewhere cool, not a train station. I set off from Ausserberg towards Zermatt. Shit, my bike felt heavy. That first hairpin with kit strapped to the bars was nervy. Is my saddle set okay? Are my cleat positions okay? (yeah… I wore brand new shoes, inadvisable for anything except giro privateers!)

My reasons for Zermatt were simple – car free and authentically Swiss, bathing in the shadow of the imperious Matterhorn. I wanted to ride the high altitude gravel trails of the Gornergrat range. In the UK you rarely get above 1000m altitude, I’d been craving that crisp high altitude air for a while.

Camping in Tasche, I headed out early morning following the single track mountain bike trail up to Zermatt on the pursuit of satisfying my altitude cravings. A pastry and coffee in Zermatt later, I was on my up. Of course, normal folk just take the train up the 3120m high observatory. I’m not normal.

I cycled, carried and dragged my bike up nearly 2000m ascent, well above the snow line. Sweating and bright red, I was greeted at the summit by tourists wrapped up to the nines. I was grateful for the cold air. I was even more grateful for the views – how magnificent they were. Nothing but unspoilt, high altitude, alpine beauty. The clouds whisping off the peaks, glaciers forming tongues down the mountain valleys & the peaks piercing the blue sky. Everything I wanted, I was in heaven!

Having been laughed at by mountain bikers on full-suspension DH bikes, I set about my route down. Putting the Shand Stoater through its paces on the sweet Swiss gravel trails. My word it handled like a dream. So efficient on the road, capable on the single track and now descending from 3120m. Shimano disc brakes, Hope rims and Ritchey venturemax bars were a brilliant addition. Confidence inspiring on the downhill, I knew I had brought the right tool for the job. A simple tyre pressure change and the bike becomes a gravel munching, all mountain conquering beast.

After this little diversion, ticking some of the best gravel trails I’ve ever ridden of the bucketlist, I knew it was time to start the real adventure. I didn’t want to get caught up spending too much time in towns. Zermatt was lovely, but I had a long way to ride. I came here to ride and explore, not get caught up in tourism. I saddled up and started my trans-alpine mission.

From Zermatt, I was heading east to tick off my first major alpine climb – the Grimselpass. I figured camping near the start of the pass would suit that night. I pressed on into the evening, eventually finding a riverside spot in Grengiols. Settling down for the night, delicious Firepot meal hand, in my little MSR Hubba NX home from home, full of satisfaction after completing the first day across the alps.

Set up at over 20kg, my bike wasn’t exactly ideal for conquering major alpine passes. But it was cool, I’d seen it done before. A journey of one thousand miles needs a lot of kit, although I would soon learn what I could live without. I wouldn’t be the quickest, but at least I could keep moving forward, without having to go back to a hotel or anything. I had my hotel and home comforts strapped to my bike!

Climbing the switchbacks of the Grimselpass was hard, but so satisfying. Counting them down, admiring the setting I was in, just slowly grinding it out.

Alpine climbs are like nothing I’ve ever ridden before. The UK is typically short, steep and over quickly. Whereas alpine climbs are typically continuous, lower average gradients over much longer distance, but often with over 1000m ascent. These beasts take time. I found hairpin climbs to be easier than winding roads.

Grimsel was my first taste, my first challenge on the journey of one thousand miles. It wasn’t easy, it wasn’t ever going to be, but I got it done. Stood atop the summit at 2164m admiring the popular Furka and Susten loop, my legs were burning. A feeling I love all too much. Perhaps it was adrenaline, excitement of a new challenge that got me up there. I knew there would be tougher, but I felt good, positively encouraged that I could pull this whole thing off.

20km up means 20km down – if it doesn’t, you’re having a bad day. Descending alpine passes was all kinds of fun. Hitting speeds well in excess of 50km/h, styling my bikepacking set up round the bends. Feeling like I was going warp speed, the descent was nothing but pure joy. Even sweeter knowing I’d earnt it.

From there it was east towards Grosse Scheidegg. This one did hurt. An unrelenting, remote 1262m climb, inaccessible by car, with 1632m ascent in my legs already from Grimsel.

This one was a beauty, from the hectic, touristic Grimsel to the hidden Grosse Scheidegg. Both gems in their own right and both worthy of ticking off. I accumulated over 3000m ascent that day.

A beer in Grindlewald, beneath the north face of the Eiger was well deserved that day. Matterhorn yesterday, Eiger today… all viewed from my bike. I was experiencing all the emotions and witnessing all the sights I hoped this adventure would allow me too.

In Switzerland the food is very… um… Swiss. That translates to a healthy balance of carbs, cheese and beer! In the Valais region I sampled a fine such dish – perfect for fuelling a day’s riding! By contrast, I felt Grindlewald had lost any Swiss authenticity. It felt too busy, overcrowded and lacking local spirit. I guess it was July & I did pick the cheapest looking bar, mind!

From Grindlewald I continued my sightseeing through Lauterbrunnen, spending the night beneath the magically illuminated Staubachfalle.

This valley is very middle-earth’esque. Huge rock walls, snow-capped, with waterfalls siphoning off the snow melt from the Monch-Eiger-Jungfrau range.

My sightseeing took me for a morning roll along the shores of Thunersee from Interlaken to into Thun. From Thun it was a quick pastry for breakfast, before heading out to Bern. Bern was a place that’d been on my list for a while. I wanted to visit the old town, meander through its walls and take it all in – whilst avoiding lethal inner-city tram tracks.

As much I liked Bern, I found far more pleasure in swimming the River Aare. It’s pretty common practice, adjacent to the outdoor swimming pool, to simply dive into the river at one of the multiple designated entry points, float down and climb out at one of the egress points.

From Bern I made the 90km trek to Lucerne, following the impeccable Swiss national cycle trails. Several ice cream stops and a Veloforte later I made it, fumbling my way through the town in time to catch the sunset, before gate-crashing a street festival. Brits abroad eh… no wonder the Europeans won’t make a deal with us!

Day 5 was the day I finally started making progress east, in the right direction. It only took me 4 days!

From Lucerne to Lenzerheide was a brutal 170km slog, with 1900m ascent. It was a torrid day, relenting 35-degree heat with a savage 18km climb at the end of the day. I think the less said about this day the better, especially the lasagne I had for tea and lack of swim spots en-route. Still, it was character building and got me 170km closer to my goal. Beats a day in the office any day!

There can be no bad days when you’re self-sufficient. I quickly learned bad days were miserable. Negative thoughts were not okay, problems had to be solved and tantrums were not productive. Its a refreshing way to live life.

That evening I just made my bed before anything else, still sweating and stinking. This became routine, I knew if nothing else happened, I had the comfort of my thermarest and down bag to return to.

My final day in Switzerland started with a beautiful morning roll through the gravel tracks of Park Ela, heading towards Albula pass. My legs were aching from yesterday, but that didn’t matter. In Albula, I found the epitome of what I was looking for. Alpine wonder in its purest form. Rock formations, scale, seclusion, altitude, relentless, elevation gain, hairpins… this one had it all.

From Albula, the next stop on my journey of one thousand miles was Italy! Not before a torturous slog up the Passo del Bernina. I hated this one. A never ending busy road, with a thunderstorm impeding. I lost count of the amount of expletives I screamed. The Passo del Bernina and Forcola di Livigno took me over the border and Italy, where it was of course, still pissing it down.

To be continued, in part two, where my journey of one thousand dmiles heads into the Italian South Tyrol & Dolomites. Then a slight detour via the Slovenian region of Triglav, before heading due north through the Carinthia and Salzburg regions of Austria, eventually turning east along the Danube and finishing in Vienna.

*A lot of people have asked about daily routes, as well as kit lists. I plan to compile those after this blog series is complete. Please stay tuned, subscribe and follow – I hope you enjoy reading about my trans-alpine adventures.

This ride was kindly supported by Firepot foods and Veloforte – check them out for the best dehydrated meals (Pasta bolognese or Dhal & rice with spinach is a winner) and nutrition (Avanti bar is my favourite) respectively. Both natural foods and an excellent source of nutrition, I wouldn’t rely on anything else for my adventures.