I never thought I’d be typing these words, but here it is: My dad’s a trendsetter. From the time I started riding, with training wheels and all, I remember him being out, laden with panniers, traversing Stuttgart’s Eichenhain nature reserve. These days, as the bikepacking trend continues to gain ground, my father takes pride in having gone on such adventures for decades
I didn’t immediately follow in his tracks, so I’ll be the first to admit I’m relatively new to bikepacking. As an experienced hand at bike touring, you can tell the English word ‘bikepacking’ riles my father – I try not to mention it in his presence.
It’s not just how we talk about it that differs, but also our approach. My father is the kind of rider who takes everything he might need on his bike ride. Meanwhile, I’m triple-checking to make sure I’ve got the quickest-drying underwear for instant washing and drying and raiding the toiletry aisles for sample-sized products to minimize weight. Then there’s my dad, who packs a second pair of jeans for a change of outfit and takes a family-size tube of toothpaste, no matter what.
We’re following the Isar Cycle Route – a 300km, 6-day ride from the source of the Isar to where it flows into the Danube – starting at my local train station in Bavaria’s Mittenwald.
If there were ever a real-life moment that warranted slow-motion hero shots, it would be this one: my dad and his pals getting off the train with fully loaded e-bikes and the Karwendel mountain range standing proudly in the background. Picture it with an epic cowboy tune, seven riders in their 70s and 80s, ready for an adventure.
Sandals and a padlock
In my cycling universe, we discuss carbon layups, the weight difference in grams between pedals, and the pros and cons of Gore-Tex materials. It’s heart-warming to ride with my dad and his friends, dressed in comfy slacks, sandals, and checkered woolen shirts.
Each time we pull up somewhere, the lads whip out a padlock and chain – the kind you get from a DIY store weighing at least as much as a bicycle frame. It’s a reminder of what we’re doing and why. All that matters is wanting to get out and ride. And Heinz, Gerhard, Sigi, Helmut, Hans, my dad Rolf, and the other Rolf are certainly ambitious. So much so that I sometimes wonder what on earth compelled me to join them.
On the first climb up to Hallerangerhaus, I watch their backs disappear into the horizon, realizing that the weight advantage of my sample-size toiletries won’t help me against the force of their motors and decades of experience. No wonder they’re so relaxed about the weight of their panniers.
The bike route follows the river as it meanders through the valley, shimmering in the distance. But even the most picturesque, postcard-worthy spots along the route offer little respite. I mistakenly interpret my dad’s stopping as a thoughtful sign that he is waiting for his daughter to catch up. Wrong. It’s just to take a quick snap. He’s responsible for the group’s post-ride photo collection. Fair enough, I must admit the view is much more impressive than my reddening face.
The rest of the group is a long way ahead now. Clearly, this is not a no-drop ride. Spare a thought for the group’s weakest member riding an analogue bike? Not here, love. There’s room for improvement when it comes to their hand signaling too, but my well-intentioned advice falls on deaf ears – figuratively, of course.
The future is bright
I can’t help but feel a massive amount of respect for these men. Their peers have long since stopped going out for adventure and exercise. These riders would adamantly choose saddle over sofa any day. It emphasizes how fortunate we are that bikes are our favorite means of transport. After all, what could be more suited to Life 2.0 and your golden years than a bike?
On our journey, I learned that fallen trees and Bavarian sausages are the only valid reasons to stop. My dad and his pals want to ride. Who cares how old they are? Or whether they’re wearing sandals? Or how much their padlocks weigh? It just feels good.
Although my legs may disagree, I’ll say it anyway: Dad, next time you want to ride, give me a call. Any time.
Bio
Anke Eberhardt is a journalist in real life with an evil alter ego known as @anke_is_awesome cracking jokes on social media. You’ll also find her on YouTube doing bike tutorials despite having only changed one inner tube in her life. ‘Fake it until you make it’ meets ‘Look pro, go slow’, but always smiling.
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