Week 7 News

An Adventure Instead of Structure

This week, I had to wait before sitting down to write.On Sunday, a gravel adventure was on the schedule and only now do I find the calm to tell the story.

I had the chance to join a few locals for a long gravel ride. One of those experiences you don’t forget. Not because of the distance or the intensity, but because of the feeling of just how remote you can be. And when I say remote, I mean truly remote. As far apart as Zurich and St. Gallen – just without any villages in between. No houses, no shops, simply nothing. Within a 20-kilometer radius, not a single town. In Switzerland, that’s almost impossible to imagine.

The gravel bike here is a huge enrichment for training. No cars passing within five centimeters. Instead, endless red gravel roads – the kind you see in photos of Australia. For me, the day didn’t feel like training; it felt like an adventure. And that’s exactly how I originally got into sport – through adventure. Structure and training plans only came much later in my life as an athlete.

Early Into the Unknown

The alarm went off at 4:30 a.m.

As always on days like this, I was instantly awake. That holiday feeling you usually only get when leaving for vacation at six in the morning.

Coffee, breakfast, departure at 5:20 a.m. heading north. After about 50 minutes, I reached a road intersection called Wolvi. If you want, type “Wolvi Hall” into Google Maps. You’ll see: there’s nothing. And exactly where there is nothing, that’s where we parked our cars.

We unpacked the bikes, started our Garmin routes – and twenty minutes later we were rolling onto the first red gravel road. Thankfully, Holy didn’t decide to launch the first attacks at that point. That would have been my DNF of the day.

There were sections where it turned into proper racing. From a training perspective, probably not the smartest: steady pace, attack, another attack – until the engine was close to blowing.

I can tell you already: I paid the price.The final 40 minutes were tough.

Another World

The landscape is hard to describe. Maybe precisely because I don’t know it.

I know mountains, Alpine passes, mountain bike trails in the Alps. But these forests are different. Wider. Raw. You’re truly on your own – with a few kangaroos and the people you’re riding with.

After nearly two hours, we reached Cooloola Cove and stopped for coffee.

How do you explain villages like this to someone who only knows the trendy parts of Australia? There’s not much more than single-story, older brick houses. You can almost feel how hot they must get in summer. The people seem as if they’ve always lived there. Proud of their land. Direct. Different.

Not better or worse simply different from our Swiss mountain villages. It’s a reminder that even Western countries carry strong cultural contrasts. I describe this from my own perspective, shaped by growing up in Switzerland.

The Section That Cost Energy

After refilling our bottles, we continued.

Tall grass, sandy passages, a rocky hill we almost had to climb. But the section that truly slowed us down was one even the locals didn’t know well. Many small river crossings, rough gravel in between, large loose stones. Borderline terrain for a gravel bike.

One brief moment of inattention – then I heard the impact in my rear tire.

A pinch flat. Instantly it felt soft. Luckily, we were able to repair it with a plug. I had heard of the method but never used it myself. A rubber strip is pushed into the hole, the sealant does the rest. Pump it up, ride a bit, pump again.

It held.

But that section cost us a lot of energy. And what didn’t help: during the last hour, I had nothing left to drink in 39-degree heat.

The pure riding time of 4 hours and 15 minutes wasn’t the issue. But we were out for more than six hours. Dehydration doesn’t hit immediately – it creeps in slowly.

What matters afterward: electrolytes, lots of food, easy days. Not just water, otherwise you simply flush everything out. Sunday and Monday were intentionally calm to properly process the stimulus.

Burger as the Finish Line

We wrapped up at the Kin Kin Hotel.

For me, it was a burger, sparkling water, and a large Coke. Whether it was truly a good burger, I can’t say for sure. After six hours of adventure, everything probably tastes like fine dining. The location itself is special but arrive rested. The music and atmosphere feel much more relaxed when you’re not half-roasted yourself.

Fewer Stories – One Real One

Instead of many small weekly highlights, this time you get one detailed story.

Everything else would have felt like filler – and after this Sunday, that wouldn’t have done it justice.

I just realized I still need to book my time trial bike in with the mechanic for the race. Less than four weeks to go and then another chapter will be written.

Until then, we’ll collect a few more stories.

Thank you for reading – we’ll hear from each other next week.Maybe a little more “normal” again.

See you soon.

Fotos: Matthias Hohlrieder

Link to his Webseit: HOLYHOLY