"The reason I ride my bike is for the escape. I pick routes that take me away from crowds, away from traffic and into gorgeous, far-away places that I hopefully won’t have to share with anyone." That's how Anke Eberhardt describes her general attitude to gravel riding. So when she was offered the opportunity to take part in an organised gravel event close to her home in the Bavarian Alps, her initial instinct was to say no. Luckily in the end she changed her mind, but how would she get on? 

Let’s be frank: I don’t like people. Most people, that is. There are some that I really like, of course. But in general, being in a big group surrounded by people just isn’t my thing. That’s why I’d never voluntarily sign up for a bike event. The reason I ride my bike is for the escape – I pick routes that take me away from crowds, away from traffic, and into gorgeous, far-away places that I hopefully won’t have to share with anyone. 

Team Party Pace

Here’s my second admission: I also don’t like group rides. It sounds anti-social of me to say so, but the thought of being tied to a roll-out time – when I’d much prefer to clip in at least two hours later – and of having to agree to a distance that I’d potentially prefer to shorten or even deviate with an extra loop if I’m feeling like it, just doesn’t get me going. Not to mention having to ride at the pace of the group and the whim of other people’s egos, when party pace can quickly turn into race pace. 

But here at the Gravel Fest, I’m free to decide if I want breakfast at seven, or even at nine, or if I want to begin my day with the curious sounding ‘Muscle and Brain Yoga.’ I decide to have a lie in, contemplating whether I want to ride 35, 40, 55, 80, 120 or 140 km, whether I want to stick to the flatter stuff or do some decent climbing, whether I’m going laidback or lung-burning. Basically, I have no more excuses. My decision falls in favour of the 55 km route because it includes some of my all-time favourite gravel sections in the Ammergau Alps.

It doesn’t get more local than this

The Gravel Fest premiered in 2021 in the Harz region before going to Bavaria in 2022 and now the Ammergau Alps, which is basically my backyard. I may be biased, but here’s where you’ll find some of the most beautiful gravel riding in all of Germany, if not Europe or even the world. Yep, we’re a loyal bunch of locals. So that’s why I welcomed the fact that the gravel community would get the chance to attend an event on my turf. But it still didn’t mean that I would enter. 

Then I checked my contract as an ambassador in the bike industry, which happens to include ‘event attendance’ as a stipulation. The idyllic-sounding ‘I-turned-my-hobby-into-a-profession’ dream was hitting me like a sucker punch once again. Was I going to hold the group up because of my slow pace and knee pain? What if the other people were idiots? Hell, worse, what if they think I’m an idiot? The crippling anxieties of the little bullied schoolkid in me bubble up to the surface. Here we go.

Smells Like Team Spirit

I crack a few dumb jokes to break the ice and look around: phew, we’re a super mixed group. I see people in their twenties right up to retirement age, some with washboard stomachs, some with a comforting paunch and a male-female split that would make any progressive-leaning executive board jealous.

The next wave of relief is discovering that I’m not the slowest. After all, the more ambitious riders had got up at an ungodly hour to do the longer rides. The beauty of having split the watts from the chaff is that I’m able to not only breathe throughout this bike ride, but even think coherently and make conversation. I bloody love it!

Riding with me is Tomas, a sound technician with greying hair, who has come on his own from nearby Murnau and is excited to finally get to know more people on his lovely local gravel, as well as Sarah and Toska, two ex-flatmates and long-time friends who picked the Gravel Fest for a geographically friendly reunion. 

The woman leading the ride opened up about leaving her 12-year-old son at home so that she could get a few hours of peaceful riding in. And it was a few hours - we took almost double the amount of time expected. But this made me love the event even more. People waited at junctions and wee stops and there was real team spirit on display at the first river crossing which meant everyone got to the other side dry, more or less.

A packed program

Those who wanted could join in with outdoor cooking workshops, elevating their next bikepacking trip from the usual heated-up tin of ravioli, or join my mechanics session with Specialized, where we went over (in gloriously chatty and engaged detail) about what to do when things go wrong on a ride. There was also a route-planning course and, come evening, a big screen showing Jana Kesenheimer’s new film ‘No Dead Ends’. It was ticking all the boxes and even the starry sky was putting on such a show that it was worth getting another drink from the bar tent.

Saturday’s highlight was The Gravel Chase, which saw riders pair up for a scavenger hunt that led you from checkpoint to checkpoint, where you were asked to complete a task with a partner. As fun as it sounds, I swear!

After just a few kilometres, even the cynic in me was finding it hard to criticise the event. Not only had I rarely come across so many great people in one small space, not a single one of my worries was materialising. I didn’t get dropped and the group even decided to go for a spontaneous cake stop – brilliant! It’s exactly what I’d do on my own, but even more fun in company. 

Do your thing

There was a moment later in the day when I, clearly feeling at ease in my newly activated socializing mode, rode up alongside a girl to start a conversation. Pulling out an earphone, she said: “Sorry, I usually ride on my own and I’m pretty talked-out for today. I’m going to listen to music for the last bit.” I nodded in understanding and we rode next to each other back to the finish in a comfortable silence. Later, after we’d both recharged our solo energy, you’ll have spotted us grilling burgers and dancing together in the giant teepee. Yep, that’s what gravel events can be like. 

There you go. I don’t like people. Apart from those at the Gravel Fest.

Amazing images courtesy of Chris Gollhofer