Five days to cross the Black Forest.
Five days with Marvin, our bikes loaded with a few panniers, a GPS track scribbled in advance… and above all, a huge desire to ride, far from everything.
On paper, it was simple: forest tracks, ridges, spring, starry nights. But reality quickly took a different turn.
From the first evening, we sensed something was wrong. The cold was biting, much more than we had imagined. At dusk, we pitched our tents among the fir trees. The thermometer dropped below -2°C. Our fingers were numb, and sleep was broken by gusts whipping the canvas. But despite the cold seeping in everywhere, we smiled. Because we were also there for that: to feel the elements, to truly live.
"The following days, the gravel trails continued… but no two were alike."
A narrow singletrack wound between black trunks, then suddenly a wide ridge trail opened up to a horizon of distant mountains. At every turn, the forest offered us a new surprise. Even though the GPS track was laid out, nothing was truly written in advance. A steeper path than expected, a river to cross, an endless climb… and always that excitement of not being in complete control.
On the third evening, after two glacial nights in the tent, we changed our plan. We treated ourselves to a hotel night to find warm sheets, a hot shower, and recharge our batteries a bit. Because adventure also means knowing how to listen to your body and accepting that sometimes, comfort is part of the journey.
There was no shortage of highlights. A torn tubeless tire in the middle of nowhere, hands trembling to find a solution in the light rain. The providential bakeries where we stopped almost religiously for a pastry and a hot coffee.
The unexpected encounters in small villages, those curious glances, those "Gute Fahrt!" shouted in passing, which re-energized us for the next kilometers. There was no stopwatch, no pressure.
We pedaled for the simple pleasure of being outdoors, of moving forward, of breathing in that smell of pine and damp earth.
Some evenings, under a cloudy sky, we'd look at each other and laugh: "It wasn't planned like this."
But deep down, that's exactly what we had come for. The unexpected, raw and real.
Bivouac meal COOKNRUN freeze-dried pasta bolognese
As the days went by, something changed. It was no longer just a crossing: it had become a different way of traveling. To slow down, to let ourselves be surprised, to live every moment without worrying about tomorrow.
When we finished the track, legs tired but hearts light, we knew it wasn't really an end. It was more the beginning of a new passion for this kind of adventure, both slow and intense.
A huge thank you to those who made this project possible — OM SYSTEM, COOKNRUN, OGARUN, STOOTS and Cycliste. Your equipment faithfully accompanied us, from the first pedal stroke to the last bivouac.
This trip wasn't perfect. But it was real. And that's why we'll remember it for a long time.
— Paul, @nomad.vanture
