If you had to make a short list of the requirements for a non-competitive gravel ride with your friends in the hills of the Rhineland-Palatinate in Germany, you would probably include sunshine, good views and great trails. The organisers of the recent 3B gravel ride managed to include all of those, plus some extra special additions – bike, beer and barbecue – to make the day flow properly. Timo Rokitta was there to take it all in and sent us a great ride report.  

There are events where you wonder if you accidentally signed up for a bike race — and then there’s the 3B – Bike, Beer & Barbecue Gravel Ride. A ride that emphasises so strongly that it’s not a race that you almost become suspicious. No timing, no stress, just “you, your gravel bike and plenty of fun.” Which sounds a bit like someone tried to cross the Tour de France with a backyard barbecue — and kept the most important part: the beer.

The fourth edition of this Rhineland-Palatinate adventure takes you through the rolling hills of Rheinhessen south of Mainz, a region not without reason called the “Tuscany of Germany.” Though I’m fairly sure the real Tuscany has less headwind and its gravel roads aren’t actively trying to throw you off your bike.

In 2026, they didn’t do things by halves: four completely new routes, from a moderate 57 kilometres to a 124 km option for people who are either very fit or simply enjoy questioning their life choices. Navigation is via GPS track, which means you make friends with your device a few days beforehand and hope it doesn’t send you into a vineyard with no way out. There are aid stations too, including one at the bicycle museum in Gau-Algesheim, which is about the only place where you seriously consider whether to keep riding or just move in.

We roll out shortly after 10 a.m. I’m riding with Carsten and Sven. Sven isn’t a person, he’s a machine. Multiple-time qualifier for the Gravel World Championships, he pedals with a mix of elegance and menace. Carsten, on the other hand, I know from a pavé gravel ride, which means we both at least understand what suffering on cobblestones feels like.

The route makes no false promises. After a short, slightly rough descent, it goes straight uphill and I realise that “not a race” is apparently more of a philosophical stance. In practice, we’re moving pretty quickly. A concrete joint catches Carsten out: pinch flat. A few kilometres later, he’s down to just 0.5 bar in his tyre - roughly the pressure of a tired balloon. 

While Carsten fires up his electric pump and curses, Rheinhessen shows off its prettier side: yellow rapeseed fields, blue skies, gentle hills. It’s almost idyllic - if you ignore the fact that the surface constantly switches between concrete, gravel and grass like a DJ with an attention deficit.

Then comes the “Diritissima.” Two kilometers long, steep, on rough cobblestones. The Jakobsberg rises in front of us like a fortress in a bad mood. The track winds upward and I begin seriously reconsidering my life choices. At the top, though, you’re rewarded: a view over the Rhine, across to the Taunus hills and somewhere in the distance the Germania statue at the Niederwald Monument seems to wave as if to say, “Your own fault.”

The descent is no less demanding — steep, loose and fast enough to make you hear interesting new noises from your bike. In Gau-Algesheim, we finally reach the first aid station at the bicycle museum. There are snacks, drinks and that wonderful atmosphere where you want to recover and set off again at the same time.

Carsten wisely chooses the latter - without us. Our pace has drained him. Sven and I push on, now along narrow singletrack trails toward the Rhine. An old towpath leads us right along the water. Waterfowl splash around, the river glistens and for a brief moment, everything feels very peaceful. Of course, that doesn’t last. The next climbs back into the hills are sandy, tricky and demand everything from the gravel bike - the wheels snake, the legs burn - pure gravel. 

Only in the Selz valley does it start to flow again. The paths get faster, the rhythm returns and after the second aid station we roll, half recovered, half euphoric, toward the finish. Naturally, it doesn’t end without a few final challenges. Before the finish line, there are still some of those classic cobblestone sections. But with a tailwind, even that suddenly feels easy. We practically fly over the terrain - or at least that’s what I tell myself.

Together with Sven, I finally roll onto the finish grounds. Gravel bikes are parked in a guarded parc fermé - a moment that feels almost professional, until you realise there’s sausage waiting.

And then comes what the 3B is really about: sitting together, eating, drinking the house craft beer, swapping stories, and pretending you had everything under control the whole time. In the evening, there’s even a raffle, but only for those still there at 6 p.m., which is basically the perfect excuse to just stay put.

The 3B Gravel Ride is not a race. It really isn’t. It’s just a pretty ambitious, beautiful, occasionally merciless day on the bike - rewarded at the end with beer and barbecue. And honestly, that’s how every good story should end.

If you would like to follow in Timo's tyre prints, you can find his route here: