Will we even start? Ten days before the race date, the project is shaky: Corona has knocked two planned colleagues out of the five-person TOUR team, leaving us with just a skeleton crew: online colleague Sandra Schuberth, 33, brings experience from multi-day gravel races; TOUR intern Alisa Rathke is the youngest at 22 and is riding her first ever bike race. I, on the other hand, am 51 years old and the oldest member of the team, as well as the organiser - and as such would love to give up: the search for replacement riders is tedious.
Finally I find two more: Martin Meindl, 48 years old, was a member of the 2014 TOUR Jederman team; and TOUR digital boss Stefan Loibl is persuaded to come straight from his holiday to the start line. The 35-year-old Kelheim veteran has the most racing experience: He has already competed six times in different teams and has always been fast. Alisa, on the other hand, is jumping in at the deep end. "I'm afraid that you'll all be much faster and I'll outbrake you," she says several times.
Long list of materials
Just how much her focus is on the race becomes apparent a few days beforehand when we talk about the night in Kelheim: "I don't even have a sleeping bag," she realises, shocked. A 24-hour race is a huge grinder: once you're in it, you're gripped by many cogs and won't let go until the time is up. It's not without reason that you can find ready-made packing lists for 24-hour races online. On race day in Munich, we load up the editorial van with chairs, water canisters, a table, bike stand, tools, coffee machine, cable reel, chargers, crockery and cutlery - and above all lots of food and drink.
It's a bit like moving house, and the image isn't that far off the mark: we move into our race flat share for 24 hours in Kelheim, a rented garage on a farm. We set ourselves up with camp beds, a table and chairs, prepare the bikes and attach the start numbers. Like the cleaning plan of a flat share, we use an Excel document that Stefan brought with him from a previous participation to organise the division of labour: We enter the order of the team riders and the lap times in the document. Thanks to the stored calculation formulae, everyone knows their next start time. A decisive help when your head gets muddy during the night and you just can't work out the length of the break.
The starting signal is given at 2 p.m. and I am the first of our team to set off on the first lap, which I experience as if in a frenzy: the 16 kilometres and 160 metres of elevation gain are over quickly and I hand over our baton - a water bottle - to Martin with a broad grin. He is also enjoying the ride. He had already completed laps in Kelheim in 2007, but only now does he remember the route. It takes us just under 52 minutes to complete the first two laps, and now it's time for Alisa's baptism of fire. Visibly nervous, she sets off on the lap - and returns around half an hour later transformed. She stops at the garage with a grin and is praised by everyone. As expected, it took her longer, but the time difference is minimal and we are even on the podium. All the pressure falls away from Alisa, she beams: "I've realised that it's really about having fun and a cool weekend and that nobody makes me feel like I'm worse," she says.
Serpentines provide a brief respite in Kelheim
The course in Kelheim is at least as nasty as it is beautiful - with a start that has made the Kelheim race famous far beyond the cycling scene: From the old town centre, the participants ride between barriers through the beer tent. A few turns of the pedals later, the road straightens out: A long straight is followed by two beautiful serpentines that provide a brief respite on the climb below the Befreiungshalle. As you roll past slow individual starters who are tackling the adventure of the 24-hour race alone, you feel strong - only to look up in amazement a little later when the leading men's teams in a small group fly past effortlessly.
Spectators stand along the entire route and clap almost around the clock. At night, the Stausacker Berg becomes an illuminated party stage: the DJ from Veloclub Ratisbona has come on his own initiative and drives the athletes in Kelheim with beats and bass without a break. Thousands of watts from the jukeboxes flow through the ears into the legs and turn into watts on the pedals. The energy helps them over the crest under the archway. Once at the top, there is a long descent before the riders chase back towards Kelheim's old town without many metres in altitude to hand over to the next team starter.
Meanwhile, life in our garage is flourishing: We eat, drink, sleep and chat in just a few square metres. In the shared fridge there is - among other things - beer with and without alcohol; energy bars, bananas and sweets form the basis of the shared pantry. Sandra serves an espresso, while Martin rewards himself for his previous round with a beer. There's no Netflix, but Stefan and I stare at a screen anyway: The colourful Excel spreadsheet shows the start times for the next few hours.
Later, Martin's wife brings pizza, which we share in our "living room" in Kelheim - a welcome change from bars and sweets. Even though the flatmates are very different characters, we quickly form a close-knit community. The world has shrunk to a 16-kilometre lap, all conversations revolve around slipstreaming, power reserves, sleeping and eating. While the grind of the race keeps us in its grip, there are clear tasks: changing sweaty clothes, drinking, eating, sleeping, peeing, brushing teeth, filling up water bottles, making coffee, preparing muesli, charging lights and mobile phones. The time between the missions is short, after one to one and a half hours you have to roll towards the start.
The journey in the wind is also as short as possible. The word "group" dominates our conversations and is the first thing that comes up when we are asked how the ride was on our return. You rarely get more than three or four fellow cyclists - the team riders are too spread out on the route and the individual starters are too slow to form a group with them. "The ride in the mixed team is just as hard as in the men's competition because you never have the same group," says Stefan. The leading men's teams ride in the same group almost all the time - but the pressure to lose them is high. The trick for us is to look for a group or form our own: Collecting riders on the mountain for a group ride is always better than chasing around the course in Kelheim alone.
A strong sense of community has developed in our flat share, but this feeling can also be found on the course when you share the work in the wind with random acquaintances. "I thought it was cool how you help each other in the race and give each other slipstream. Someone even asked me once if the pace was right," says Alisa happily. After a good 6 of 24 hours, she receives a particularly euphoric welcome from everyone: "You've defended second place!" It's praise that she often receives: "After every lap, someone said, 'Wow, how you rode - that was really motivating'." And the other team members receive the same praise - there is no shortage of team spirit.
24-hour race in Kelheim: Driving through the night in alternation?
But we have been avoiding the most important decision for hours: Do we continue to ride single laps at night or, in order to have longer rest periods, two laps in a row? No clear preference emerges for a long time. Without a clear decision, we slowly feel our way forward. Martin cautiously expresses his preference for the normal one-lap rhythm, Stefan and Sandra follow suit, and I also say goodbye to the original two-lap idea.
After all, the one-rider variant has one clear advantage: our Excel spreadsheet provides a clear timetable and you don't have to calculate new break and driving times in a complicated way. Our race flat share has passed its first test. As agreed, Alisa and Sandra will skip laps later on to get some sleep. Night-time homecomers disturb the peace and quiet in a normal shared flat: even in our flat, someone occasionally rumbles into the garage with loud words after their night-time drive - sleeping is not easy. And the night in Kelheim is over quicker than expected: light comes through the garage door as early as five o'clock.
Early in the morning, we start to feel a sense of anticipation: The race is just over three hours away. We are stable in second place and are already secretly thinking about the finish. What could possibly go wrong now? Alisa and Sandra sit on the folding chairs and chat while Martin sleeps. Relaxed, I take my bike off the stand twelve minutes before the calculated transition time, roll towards the transition area and change gear - unfortunately not. Neither the front derailleur nor the rear derailleur of the Dura-Ace Di2 respond.
Rejoicing too soon over a perfect race without stress and problems?
Back at the garage, I throw a "now we have a problem!" at Alisa and Sandra and jiggle the cables in vain. It remains the same: the gearstick is not responding. Now we need to act quickly and go through various options. The most sensible option is an early start for Martin, who is sleeping on the camp bed. He looks at me with wide, sleepy eyes after I wake him up. His face reflects the milky dream world of deep sleep - only slowly does the hard work order reach him: change in eight minutes, drink, roll to the changing tent and tear off the lap. Driven by adrenaline, he grabs his things and rolls to the start to take over from Stefan. Shortly afterwards, Sandra calls the colleague from the TOUR workshop, and his simple tip solves the problem with my gears: pull the plug out completely and plug it back in. Perhaps the ride over the cobblestones had loosened the Di2 cable slightly?
Finish line in the beer tent
At 1 p.m., it becomes clear that we will manage two more laps before the end of the race and thus extend our lead. Martin's legs are no longer tired - on the contrary: he's full of anticipation for his last lap, where he finally crosses the finish line shortly before 2 pm. The whole beer tent celebrates him and the other riders with applause, the spectators and team riders are packed in tightly. Martin is greeted at the finish line by his wife and children and beams all over his face: "The atmosphere is tremendous - I still have goose bumps," he says as he is clapped off by us.
After 24 hours, we have actually mastered the balancing act of fun and performance - without any stress or pressure. The reward is the joint award ceremony in the beer tent a little later, where we celebrate our success. "It's really cool that we came second," says a delighted Sandra. On the big stage to the applause of the audience, one thing is clear: the word "fun" could hardly be more prominent over the past 24 hours - the shared flat for a day and a night has worked harmoniously.
In 2014, Stefan was already on the podium with a men's team, but he remembers that as being much more stressful: "The team atmosphere this time was much more relaxed. Of course, you try to give it your all, but it was never tough." Sandra confirms: "Nobody put any pressure on us and it was harmonious without long discussions." Alisa also draws a positive conclusion: "It was all about fun and a cool experience, and the award ceremony in the full beer tent was the icing on the cake." It is also clear to her that her first bike race will not be her last. She can well imagine starting in Kelheim in 2023, even if she has to find a new 24-hour flat share for it.
24-hour race in Kelheim
The Kelheim 24-hour race has been running since 1997 and the route has remained unchanged since its premiere: After the climb below the Befreiungshalle, it is mostly flat.
The 16-kilometre loop is not closed to oncoming traffic, but you will hardly encounter any cars. A highlight is the ride through the beer tent in Kelheim's old town. It is possible to start as an individual or in a team of five. The race is organised by RSC Kelheim, which has already donated 187,000 euros from the entry fees to charity since 1997. It's also fun to watch: many visitors come to the city centre, especially on Sunday.
Date 8/9 July 2023
Info: www.race-24.de
Kristian Bauer
Editor
