Canyon to Rapha — a bikepacking tramp across Germany: Part 4
Day 3 (Melsungen -> Sankt Andreasberg)
Distance: 132 km
Strava link: https://www.strava.com/activities/1566446968
After waking up in a humid little hotel room and devouring all I can at the breakfast buffet, I’m ready to hit the road again. I’m thankful for having had a decent night’s sleep and breakfast already done and dusted. The goal for today is to get to Harz and to summit the Brocken before sundown. At least, that’s the plan.
Today should be the last day of hills — everything after the Brocken is almost pan flat. It’s really fascinating how this mountain lies in the middle of Germany and almost exactly marks the precise change in topography.
Whilst I’ve had a great start to the day, I also know that there is the added complication of it being a Sunday. For those that don’t know: All the shops are shut in Germany on Sundays with the exception of those selling food. Restaurants, cafés and petrol stations will be my only source of food — if I can find them in the middle of nowhere. I’m optimistic despite having no reason to be.
As expected, the hills aren’t letting up but it’s hard to complain when the scenery is so stunning. After 30km of constantly going uphill, my planned route swings me pointlessly off of the smooth tarmac that was just starting to descend, up another gravel wall. Thank heavens my Grail is fully loaded with granny gears! I use the word “pointlessly” as I will soon be rejoined with the road again. It’s often the way when planning a route that you end up accidentally throwing in these strange little diversions. I find a bench at the top of the hill and take a moment to look down at the valley below. It’s finally time to enjoy some descending!
It’s not long before my Wahoo is showing that I have only 400km left in total. Another milestone broken through. I’m also breaking into my very limited water supplies. So far, I’ve seen zero places open and it seems my initial worries about riding on a Sunday were entirely justified. What am I going to do?
After another 25km I ride past a wedding in a small church in the middle of nowhere. The people are just coming out and as the confetti rains down on the happy couple all I can think of is how hot they must be in their suits. Maybe they have some water?
A little further on and I’m blocked by diggers and a road that has been completely torn up. However, I’ve just the bike for the job and after squeezing past the heavy machinery, I’m happily gliding along the sandy stretch. A detour at this point would have been very annoying (and nowhere near as much fun!).
I’m still failing to resolve the issue of finding water and food and am close to running out completely. I need to find somewhere soon! I stop several times to look at the map to see what might be nearby but even Google offers no clues. Hmmm…
After only another 2km I ride into a small town called Niedergandern where I see a sign outside a huge farmhouse estate that reads ‘Landgut von Bodenhausen — Verkauf von Wild • Gleflügel • Kartoffeln’. Which implies this is the Estate of the Bodenhausen family and that there could be some food available to buy. If there is food — then maybe there is water? I’m doubtful but I poke my head through the arched gateway nonetheless. I don’t see anything, just a car and some motorbikes. I turn around a little deflated, almost annoyed at myself for allowing a shred of optimism to trick me into looking. What am I going to do? I tell myself to stop being so timid and just go see if anyone is about — nothing could be worse than completely running out of water in this heat!
I go back through the gate and travel a little further into the expansive estate. As I pass the corner I see a group of people standing around chatting. Maybe I’m in luck? I’m greeted by a tall, imposing but friendly chap who I ask if they have water and can I buy some? “Of course!”, he replies and gives me enough water to refill both my bottles and myself. I must have been thirstier than I thought as I swiftly throw a litre of water down the hatch. “Would I like some food?” the gentleman asks — I’m blown away: “Yes please!” I eagerly reply. We head upstairs to a barn-like building where there’s bread, meat and cheese. I’ve struck gold — firstly by picking this place out of everywhere and secondly by these strangers’ generosity!
I set about making a sandwich and swiftly cut through not only the roll but my finger beneath it. Ouch. A tad embarrassed, I try to ignore the blood trickling across my hand and hide it behind the freshly made roll. As long as I don’t get blood on anything — it should be okay. This situation is a good test of my German-speaking skills and I do my best to explain what the hell I’m doing and try to be as polite and thankful as possible. With the roll now eaten, I am unable to shield my wound. Another chap spots it and immediately runs off into the distance. Now that the game is up, I wash the blood away with some more of the stockpiled water. A few minutes later, he comes speeding back in his car and we spend a good 5 minutes trying to find the plasters in the first aid kit. Instead of just being labelled “Pflaster”, they were named something like “Mehrzweck-abgelängtverband”. German words and emergencies are not compatible. This cut’s bark is worse than it’s bite but I’m well taken care of and quickly bandaged up.
After a tip-off from his wife, I decide to chat with the “medic” about the Brocken as he has ridden up it before. He draws me a quick map of the best way to climb up it. I could tell from his rudimentary drawing that what he suggested was different to what I’d planned on Komoot. I decided that I would investigate further and change my route if possible. Best to listen to the locals!
We take photos of one another and I share the URL for my Strava with them so they can see the posts when they’re live. I say thank you again and head on my way. It’s only on looking back and knowing that I didn’t see another place for water or food for many more miles that I can truly appreciate what a blessing finding these guys was. Danke euch!
At the 60km mark, I’m back riding gravel in the woods and happy to evade the sun’s rays for a bit. Has it really only been 60km? In this heat, it really is slow progress. The next 20km seem to fly by but my mind is distracted by the thought of finding a beer garden. I’d been hoping to find one every day of this trip but so far without success. Today is no better as everything I find is closed. My Strava activity bears the scars of going off course to check if pubs are open, seeing they’re not, and then riding straight back to do it all over again.
I hit yet another steep gravel climb in the woods and at the top, I can see the trees parting for blue skies. As I ride out and over the opening I discover a gaggle of holidaymakers unexpectedly loitering around a white building and my heart sings when I see a sign that reads: ‘Campingplatz’. It could have read, ‘Heaven’. I double back and ask the lady at the bar if it’s okay to have a drink. Always best to ask when you’re not staying on-site. I order two Radlers and take a seat. Finally! I drink the first bottle in two swigs and savour the second. My legs are dirty, face sweaty and jersey salty. But this is bliss. The guys on WhatsApp ask for a selfie and I duly oblige. You’ll see the picture below — I think it captures the moment quite well. But even heaven can’t hold me back. I fill up my water bottles and head down the hill feeling content. Everything has just been clicking into place today — could I be any luckier?
Around the 100km mark, I come across a local football match in full swing. Of course, it’s a terrible game. But it’s football, so I’m not surprised. Still, I’m glad I’m on the bike and not kicking a ball about in this weather! The other story of the day has been 15%+ climbs and I’m pretty swiftly met with another. I now arrive at the Grillplatz that I’d marked out on the original route. The plan had been to stay here on the second night. But due to my late start on Friday, it had meant that wasn’t possible. However, I’m pretty glad, because the ‘shelter’ where travellers are supposed to be able to stay was padlocked shut. Sinnlos.
Leaving the woods, I dip down into a village and roll right through it before hitting another achingly steep climb. It leads up to a bike path high on a ridge, overlooking the buildings below. From here, I have a fantastically unique view of the world. I cannot thank the Germans enough for turning their old railway lines into bike paths. They are simply glorious to ride!
As I break out of the tree line a little further along, I can see some big lumps ahead. Finally, I’m in Harz!
It’s now 5 pm and it’s my designated time to stop, refuel and plan. The edge of Herzberg is not much to look at but I find a Chinese restaurant that seems too good to simply ride past. Sadly it doesn’t open until 5:30 pm but I convince the waitress to let me have a Radler in the meantime. I also order some food and say I’m happy to wait until they are officially open. But 10 minutes later my spring rolls and chow mein are already done. The mountain of food easily defeats me but I’m determined to not let the ones that lie ahead do the same. Via Google, I find a camping site somewhere between where I am and the Brocken. I’ve given up on summiting the Brocken today and it’s still another 30km just to the campsite!
I leave Herzberg and begin to head deeper into the rugged terrain of the Harz National Park. I know wild camping here would be very risky and expensive if I was caught so finding somewhere ‘official’ is a priority. The scenery is absolutely stunning and the roads are silky smooth. Everything you could wish for as a road cyclist. But with both my bags and my stomach weighing me down — it’s slow going.
It’s also now all uphill. Okay, it’s only around 2%, but it’s enough at the end of a hard day. As I reach the 125km mark I can see the route on my Garmin wants to swing me off onto a gravel path called the “Königshof” by the river. But this is no longer the way I need to go. I stick to the road and begin cursing my decision shortly afterwards. Directly ahead is a 5km climb with grades of up to 9%. gulp I gingerly make my way up to the town of Sankt Andreasberg and then my heart sinks when I see the signpost warning of the 15% incline ahead. There is no choice but to scale it.
The full weight of the bike is trying to pull me back down the hill and it takes every ounce of both physical and mental strength to turn the pedals. It’s too long and steep to do in one go and I’m forced to take small breaks along the way to regain my composure and catch my breath.
The sun is fading a lot quicker behind these tall hills and the long shadows bring a crisp cool air with them. I haven’t felt “cold” on the bike the whole ride so I’m a little panicky that time is running out. It’s still another 10km to the campsite and mainly uphill along a state road. But I have no other choice. For the first time on this trip I’m putting my gilet and arm-warmers on at the end of the day.
2km on and I ride past a sign that reads “Schalfsackquartier ab 4.50€”. Like always, it takes a while for my brain to process what I’ve just seen but when I do I know it makes sense to turn around. I try ringing the bell on the guesthouse next to the wooden hut and calling the number on the leaflet — no response. I begin to get angry as wasting time at the end of the day is never good. I find another number on the leaflet and give it a go. Finally, there is an answer and I’m told I can stay in the hut. It seems yet again I’ve gambled and won. I get a quick tour of the facilities — showers, bathroom, sleeping quarters, kitchen and living room: It’s more than I could have asked for. I crack open a beer, turn on the radio and crack on with hand-washing my kit. No-one else is here so I use every piece of available floor space there is.
I didn’t make it to the Brocken today. But it’s going to be an awesome way to start the day tomorrow!
