The Rhön Cycle Marathon is Germany's best-known cycle marathon. It is organised by RSC Bimbach every year over Whitsun in the Rhön. The routes lead through the hilly landscape of the Rhön and offer spectacular views. The marathon distances are always fully booked very quickly after registration opens. This year there were still places left due to last-minute cancellations.
Reader report Rhön Cycle Marathon 2025
Saturday. Still euphoric from the RTF (route 4, 156km), I had bought a marathon ticket for the 183 route. Completely surprisingly, there were still some left. What luck! The event is usually sold out for months. Many had cancelled their participation. It slowly dawned on me why. Tomorrow was going to be bad. Really bad. We sit at the table, check various weather apps and discuss the options. But there are actually no options. We're going to Bimbach at Whitsun.
I mean, it was fine today. Two, maybe three tiny little showers. And we can also be lucky. With the wind, the cloud cover changes quite quickly. It's also warm. Dennis even found an app where it rains for a maximum of three hours. From midday, 6 hours of sunshine and 14 C, felt like 21 C. Awesome. Better pack some sun cream.
In general. Here, in front of my toast with butter and fried egg, all is right with the world. Seriously, how bad can it get? You just get wet. It dries quickly with the wind. We had that today. So, the alarm clock is set for 4.15am. This is going to be really cool! We cyclists are masters of self-deception.
Sunday. After four hours of sleep, the first anxious look out of the window. Very good. It's not raining and it's relatively warm. I knew it would be. The absolute exaggeration. It's always like that. Self-deception and exaggeration. We can.
Rhön Cycle Marathon 2025 route sharing
I quickly separate from the boys on the way and set off on the route alone. I just miss my training partner Wulfman - unfortunately she has broken her collarbone. I relax and am in good spirits, because I'm not supposed to 'roll easy' anywhere at three hundred watts today. It starts to rain. Big, thick drops. All right. A little more than expected, but bearable. Three hours from now, no problem, I can do it. I leave K1 behind. I mean, what am I supposed to do in the rain? Stand around? Anyway, Dennis's oatmeal preparation will probably keep me full for several more days. Absolutely full.
Route sharing. I am then completely alone for long stretches and cycle through the idyll. I would love to take a photo. But how am I supposed to get the camera out of my back pocket without causing collateral damage? I can't even do it properly when it's dry. How do people do that? I have no idea. I see poppies and wafts of mist. Beautiful. How do I feel about the high moor? Beautiful moor? Rote Moor?, I think of Sherlock Holmes and my inability to memorise things on the way. What the hell is the name of this climb?
Finally it brightens up a bit, a hole in the cloud cover! I look at the Wahoo. Exactly three hours. Great. So it's about to reach what feels like 21 C. In theory - in practice it's completely different. The rain sets in again and with it a brutal wind from all directions. I only manage 18 km/h on some stretches. Downhill! I mean, basically this speed suits me. But this? A nightmare. At the bottom I'm a wreck, down to the ground. Instead of what felt like 21° C, it felt like 2° C in summer clothes. Luckily I have sun cream.
Freezing at the Rhön Cycle Marathon 2025
Checkpoint K2. I don't want to go there. Descending means freezing. But I can't really freeze any more than that. I also have to pee. And maybe I should eat something after all. I remember that was a good strategy in Liège.
So it's all no use. I stop and pour the water out of my shoes. You have to start somewhere. Going to the loo in wet clothes is degrading. Is that only for women? After that, I don't really know. The station is just being set up. I'm early. My courage is failing me. A message to Wulfman. It's all very bad. I can't make it to Oberzell. Because she can't drive herself, she's offered to help out there. Wulfman understands me. I know that she knows exactly what's going on, like bad it is.
Fortunately, there are wonderful people. And the THW. The THW had set up one of those fan heaters. Someone gives me a portion of noodles and someone from the helpers gives me a jacket. A dry jacket. A golden nugget! I had wrung mine out and was standing there, shivering in my base layer, next to the fan heater. It must have made a very miserable picture. The tent slowly fills up and I see a lot of battered cyclists. A poll starts asking who wants to be picked up. No. There's no way I'm getting picked up. I know that miserable feeling, it sticks with you. You never really shake it off, not even after years. So I feel better straight away. But I'm thinking about a shortcut.
Continuous rain in Bimbach 2025
Eight people are sitting in front of a mobile phone screen, staring at the weather radar and discussing the situation. Outside, it's pouring with rain. It will finally get better after this area of rain. Certainly. Self-deception. Everyone knows that. Everyone goes along with it. Like a tacit agreement. The sun actually comes out a little and it feels like 21° C can't be far away. You can literally sense it. So while I'm trying to make the world a better place and a little hope springs up again, another cloudburst. At least. Not so cold anymore. Otherwise, it's back to square one.
I have no memory of K3. Crazy. Apparently completely oblivious to reality. Just Haribos, an incline and me. That's all I remember. I even forget the shortcut in this tunnel. Just as well. I would have been annoyed beyond measure. Because Wulfman is waiting at K4. Light of the day! From then on, the weather becomes more stable and everything gets better anyway. 130km in the books. 130km first? For this drudgery? Well, I'm "only" doing Tour B. Basic. Sounds a bit derogatory somehow. Who ever takes the basic package of anything? Never mind. From now on it's back to the Rhön Cycle Marathon! It finally feels like 21°C and for the first time that day I want to take off my jacket.
Good. This may also be due to the brutal 20 per cent gradient. But who knows? Self-deception. We can do it. Again and again I find a friendly rear wheel that transports me to my destination a little faster than I could on my own. We even have dry roads now! Awesome! Simply awesome. It's really fun now and I'm slowly becoming more certain that the rest will roll away easily. Stay relaxed. Just don't crash now. I chalk it up to luck that the next rain-wind combination only knocks my glasses off and not my balance. Now lying somewhere in the bushes. My half-hearted search remains unsuccessful.
Last kilometres to the finish
For the last Kilometres Against the wind, I find another great rear wheel and ask if I can get on it. He points out that I would then get wet. It's a bit of a comedy situation. Wet? Of course I want to go! There's not a dry spot left anyway. None. We race to the finish, happy and proud. What a day! Whitsun is the time to ride Bimbach.
TOUR reader Michaela Jux
Note: The reader report reflects the opinion and experience of the author and not the editorial team. As we were not there, we cannot check whether all statements are correct. All opinions expressed are readers' opinions and not those of the TOUR editorial team.
