NorthCape4000: To the North Cape via ten countries and almost 4500 kilometres

Adventurer "NorthCape4000"

The crisis came unexpectedly. I never thought that a flat tyre would throw me off course like that. But I'd already been battered, having cycled 331 kilometres until half past eleven the day before and got back on my bike at five in the morning, still tired. Flat tyre after 40 kilometres. Routine, I think, and change the inner tube. But when I try to lever the tyre onto the rim, my tyre lever breaks, followed immediately by the second one.

Both brand new and already broken. Fortunately, the mishap happens in Blak, a small Polish village. There's a garage there, where nice Tomek later tries to lift the tyre onto the carbon rim with a screwdriver. In addition to the flat tyre, I now also fear a ruined rim. In the end, he manages it with his bare mechanic's hands - without any tools.

Thank you, dzieki! I am over the moon! Move on quickly! After all, I've lost a lot of time. I spend the next few kilometres asking for tyre levers in various shops. Without success. The people don't even know what they are. Finally, I step into a stinking dog turd. What's actually going on today? It's 3 pm. I may only have 150 kilometres on the clock, but the day is over for me. I look for the nearest guesthouse.

I'm exhausted, dead tired, hungry and without a tyre lever. What's more, two inflamed wounds on my bum hurt like hell. I've chafed my bum over the last few days. Probably because of the crazy heat - up to 40 degrees at Lake Balaton - which made my sweat run as if I was training on a roller without a fan. Can I carry on cycling like this, do I even want to? I have my doubts. Not small ones.

Eight days ago, I started in Rovereto on Lake Garda as one of 192 participants in the "NorthCape4000" ultracycling race. In a fit of overconfidence, I had registered in December 2020. After all the coronavirus drama, I finally wanted to get out again, travel, experience something. Riding my bike for days, feeling the wind in my face and hearing the whirring of the chain - what could be better?

The fact that I would have to drive at least 200 kilometres a day to arrive in the allotted time of 22 days, that the route would take me right across Eastern Europe, which was completely unknown to me, that I would be travelling alone as a woman - such worries and fears would only come later.

NorthCape4000 - One of 25 women

There are almost only men at the start in Rovereto, I am one of 25 women embarking on this adventure - and as excited as a six-year-old on her first day at school. I suspect that some of the participants have racing ambitions, but I know that many of them are just looking for an adventure. The North Cape is the dream that unites us all. At the moment, I'm trying to block out this goal completely. It seems too far away and too ambitious.

>> Gravel biking in Austria: Through the whole country in one big tour

I rather imagine: First a swim at Lake Balaton, then maybe to Krakow - and if all goes well ... The starting gun snaps me out of my thoughts. With every pedal stroke, my excitement subsides a little more. It's a flat ride eastwards, towards the Slovenian border. In the late afternoon, I cycle a bit with Matthias from Stuttgart and Hans from Berlin. We don't want to overdo it on the first day and finish the stage after 240 kilometres in Tarcentino in a small guesthouse that I spontaneously booked online.

NorthCape4000 - Hungary's rough roads

The next morning, the Tanamea Pass takes us to Slovenia. In the midday heat, I struggle up the 1,611 metre high Vršič Pass with its many hairpin bends. This is followed by the magnificent landscape of the Triglav National Park and Lake Bled. The route then becomes flat and continues into Hungary, where the roads are very bumpy and the letter "ö" appears in many place names. The first checkpoint of the tour has no "ö": Tihany on Lake Balaton. Unfortunately, I arrive at the tourist office eight minutes too late as it is already closed. I should have got a stamp here. Luckily it doesn't matter, I can continue without a stamp as the organiser can see my position via live GPS tracking.

After four days, I have found my rhythm: I spend the night in guesthouses or B&Bs because it's much easier to sleep there after a shower than in a sweaty bivouac sack at the side of the road. The alarm goes off at four in the morning, I pack my things and am on my bike by five at the latest. Without breakfast, which I buy on the way in the supermarket or at the petrol station: sandwich, croissant, sweet pastries. Plus litres of cocoa, kefir and drinking yoghurt. My chocolate bars melt in the heat, sour fruit gums are a good alternative, but they don't provide enough energy - I'm always hungry.

The rhythm of the long haul

I usually cycle alone. I do meet other participants, but I prefer to follow my own rhythm. My self-confidence is slowly growing. In the beginning, I manage daily stages of 220 to 240 kilometres. Then they get longer and longer. Today the route takes me into the mountains again. In the north-east of Slovakia, the High Tatras await with lonely forest paths - a scenic dream. But a few kilometres later I am rudely torn from this dream. The road to Krakow, where the next checkpoint is located, is a horror: cars and lorries thunder past me dangerously close. Nobody shows any consideration for cyclists.

Fortunately, the organiser's route soon takes me into the Polish province, where the traffic is bearable but overnight accommodation is rare. So at 7 p.m. I still have 80 kilometres to go. In the last corner of Poland, almost on the border with Belarus, is my accommodation, a farm on the edge of the village of Sarnaki. I cycle alone through the night. Several times I have to flee from dogs that chase me with bared teeth.

The thought of spending the night alone on a remote farm scares me even more. After 331 kilometres, I arrive completely exhausted at half past eleven. The farmer has been waiting for me all evening. He is very friendly, full of admiration for my achievement and shows me a small, clean room. My fear of this corner of the world was completely unfounded, I feel ashamed and fall into bed dead tired.

The next day, the crisis described above awaits: tyre levers, grazes, dog faeces. But as unexpectedly as it hits me, help arrives - in the form of a message on my mobile phone. NorthCape4000 participant Pippo has seen my photo of the broken tyre levers on Strava and asks if he can leave me his; he is about 150 kilometres ahead of me with his two friends and they have several tyre levers with them.

Of course! I set off, gritting my teeth and trying to relieve my aching bum by resting my forearms on my aero attachment as often as possible in flat Lithuania. Eventually I find the tyre levers deposited for me behind a bush at a petrol station. Grazie, Pippo, grazie!

NorthCape4000 - Moments of happiness

Flat Lithuania is followed by Latvia and Estonia, which are also flat. Nevertheless, the journey is exhausting. By the sea, a stiff breeze pushes so hard against the rims that I have to hold on to the handlebars to avoid ending up in a ditch. Exhausted from the battle against the wind, I reach the Estonian capital Tallinn. If I get on the ferry to Helsinki now, there's no turning back. So far, I've moved carefully from stage to stage, from one big city to the next.

Now it's time: North Cape - here I come! And the best thing: I bump into Pippo, Maurizio and Luca in Tallinn. I've caught up with the three Italians. On the ferry I can thank them for the tyre levers. The crossing to Helsinki takes two hours. Two hours that we spend eating and chilling out on the sun deck. I am so happy.

I'm sure I'm about to get a flat tyre. I'll probably have to give up so close to the finish.

My first impression of Finland: beautiful! The birch forests, the countless lakes. But hardly any petrol stations and no supermarkets along the way. Just forest. When I do find a shop, I buy half the shop empty for fear of starving and carry more provisions than before. A wide state road leads me straight north. I pedal bluntly along the hard shoulder - just like in a tunnel: Switch off your head, ignore the traffic!

A catastrophe - or not?

I settle in - until reindeer run to the left and right of the road in Lapland. Beautiful. I reach a campsite where I can spend the night in a cosy hut. If all goes well, I'll be at the North Cape in two days, I think. Then, just as unexpectedly as the first time, I stagger into my second crisis. I take my bag off the bike. There's a tear in the tread of one of the tyres. If my husband were here, he would say: "It's not a disaster, you're just making one out of it. But it is a disaster! Many others have a spare tyre with them. Not me, I wanted to save weight.

The next morning: unfortunately not a nightmare, the crack is still there. But the tyre isn't flat - not yet - and so I get on my bike and ride on. But my thoughts only revolve around the crack: "I'm sure I'm about to get a flat tyre. I'll probably have to stop, so close to the finish." At a petrol station, I tell a motorcyclist about my adventure. And about my fear of failing because of a flat tyre. Arvydas from Lithuania offers to get me a tyre. He can hardly believe that I cover an average of 270 kilometres a day.

I can't let my business fail because of something so trivial! But there isn't a bike shop anywhere near here. The only way to get a tyre is to ask one of the NorthCape4000 participants. I share my live tracking with Arvydas for the next few hours and we set off together, he on the motorbike, me on the bike. Another 500 kilometres to the North Cape.

My mobile rings at 2 pm. It's Arvydas. He has asked every cyclist on the way to the North Cape and finally found one who sold him his tyre. Now he is standing at a petrol station with two other motorcyclists who are on their way south and could bring me the tyre. Two hours later, they hand me the tyre at a crossroads - I'm in tears.

Day 17 is the last day of my tour to the North Cape. I put the pedal to the metal and drive and drive and drive. With Iggy Pop's live version of "The Passenger" in my ears, I sing at the top of my voice: "I knew this god damn road was mine, la la la la la la la". Norway shows its most beautiful side. The road is hilly, the weather sunny. But to reach the North Cape on the island of Magerøya, the road leads through a tunnel under the sea. Nine degrees down into the deep freeze, seven kilometres later back up again.

At its deepest point, the tunnel is 212 metres below sea level. It is pitch black. The traffic is deafening. I'm glad when I finally see the light at the end of the tunnel. Another 30 kilometres to go. A herd of reindeer accompanies me part of the way. Another coffee break in Honningsvåg, I don't want it to end! The last few kilometres are emotional: tears, inner jubilation, bewilderment. I'm at the northernmost point in Europe that can be reached by land from the mainland. North Cape, 71° 10' 21" north latitude.

About Sara Hallbauer

The 41-year-old lives with her husband in Wackersberg near Bad Tölz. She only took up cycling four years ago after breaking her ankle on a ski tour and it was the only thing she was allowed to do straight afterwards. Since then, she has been out and about on a racing bike, gravel bike or bikepacking bike, covering between 10,000 and 14,000 kilometres a year. She prefers to go out for an overnight stay at the weekend and come back the next day.

Her motto: Get out of the slipstream and into the adventure. The freelance digital marketing expert has already completed several bikepacking events. At the NorthCape4000, she was the second woman to reach the North Cape solo. She travelled 240 kilometres back to Alta by bus and flew home from there.

>> Hallbauer's conclusion:

Women can and should have more confidence in themselves. What I can do, others can do too.

On her blog www.bikepackers.de, Sara takes you on bikepacking tours and writes about packing lists and experiences.

NorthCape4000 - To the race

NorthCape4000 took place for the fourth time in 2021. The start location in Italy and the route to the finish at the North Cape change from year to year. In 2021, 192 riders from 30 countries set off from Rovereto in the Adige Valley on a predetermined 4450-kilometre route through Italy, Slovenia, Hungary, Slovakia, Poland, Lithuania, Latvia, Estonia, Finland and Norway.

The time limit was 22 days; the winner, Steven Le Hyaric from France, reached the North Cape in ten days, nine hours and 25 minutes. Along the way, the participants have to manage without a support vehicle or other assistance, organise their own food and accommodation and the organisers will not help if they break down.

In 2022, the route will be shorter: 3800 kilometres will then lead - again from Rovereto - via Austria, Germany, Sweden and Finland to the North Cape in Norway.

>> Info: www.northcape4000.com

What Sara Hallbauer experienced after the NorthCape4000 - an extract

The NorthCape4000 was not the last bikepacking event that Sara Hallbauer took part in. After the ride to the North Cape, there was much more to come and even more is already being planned. We didn't want to keep this from you and have picked out a few excerpts from her cycling life. Sara Hallbauer has ridden countless brevets, many of them in the rain. In addition to these classic long-distance bike rides, there were other highlights in the area of unsupported bikepacking.

>> Sara rode the Race Across France in 2022. The cut-off times made the race one of her toughest yet

>> 2023 Sara Hallbauer took part in the Italy Divide and was the first female finisher.

What comes next?

This much can be revealed: Sara Hallbauer already has her next big goal in mind and is in the process of optimising her route between the start, checkpoints and finish. Because it will be a race in which the route has to be planned largely by herself.