Kiel Dawn Patrol - Early birds on racing bikes ...
Shortly before sunrise on the Kiel Fjord. It is 5.15 am. The last night owls and boozers stagger out of the harbour pub "Tatort" on the Kiellinie. A public bus picks up a few shift workers; the guys from the pub are too slow and have to wait for the next bus. On the Reventlou Bridge, two seagulls fight over the remains of a burger wrapper before they are suddenly startled by the whirring freewheel of two racing bikes hurtling towards them.
Seagulls are normally cheeky and not easily unsettled, but they are not comfortable with this. The next attempt to catch prey also fails. Once again they are startled by a group of racing cyclists - the Kiel Dawn Patrol is on its way.
At 5.21 am, the sun rises over the gently undulating, wooded hills to the east of the fjord. A little pink, a little pink: a classic sunrise spectacle. A giant cruise ship glides through the fjord in slow motion; a few hours later it is due to set sail for Norway. In just a few minutes, the Kiel Dawn Patrol will set off on its Friday trip.
"Moin"
At this time of day, there isn't much talking among the participants of the group ride. "Moin" will have to suffice for now, northern Germans aren't supposed to be very talkative anyway - which later proves to be a stupid prejudice. A short announcement from Road Captain Marc de Vries, then it's a sharp start. The Kiel Dawn Patrol sets off into the sunrise at 5.30 a.m. sharp.
We head out of the city towards the sun in rows of two. A relic from the time of the coronavirus pandemic is that the Dawn Patrol travels in groups of ten. This has also proved its worth after the pandemic: It avoids stress with drivers who want to overtake. But there is still virtually no traffic, the air is clear, but also really cold on this mid-May morning. "When I set off, it was two degrees on the thermometer," says Marc, then he grins and says: "It's four degrees now."
Maybe it's because of the temperatures that only 40 cyclists set off today. Or maybe it's the long Ascension weekend. In any case, the rule seems to apply to those who are there today: As long as the aggregate state of the contents of the water bottle is liquid, you can cycle.
How crazy do you have to be?
Once again, I have to yawn heartily and, before I reach the high bridge over the Kiel Canal, I get rid of the question I've been asking myself ever since I first heard about the Kiel Dawn Patrol: How crazy do you have to be to get up at the crack of dawn between four and five o'clock every Friday morning just to go cycling? Johann Rathjen grins and answers: "That's exactly what I ask myself every Friday morning. How crazy do you have to be?" Johann pauses for a moment and then says: "But every time I do it, I think: How cool is that ...?"
He's never really been that keen on getting up early, says Johann. But then his mate Robin Feder came around the corner a few years ago with the idea of the Kiel Dawn Patrol. You can't say that Robin invented it. You could even say that he stole the idea. In some major cities in Australia, as well as in New York, Singapore and Hong Kong, something similar has existed for some time; in Vancouver, Canada, the Morning Glory has been running for more than ten years. Robin was specifically inspired to set up an early morning ride in Kiel by the Oslo Dawn Patrol during his studies in Norway's capital. And why not steal a really good idea?
With the Kiel Dawn Patrol through the picture-book landscape of northern Germany
After the high bridge over the world's busiest canal, the route continues for a few kilometres through suburban residential areas; the usual picture here in the north: Gravelled gardens in front of brick houses, garden gnomes or other funny creatures made of clay or plastic adorn the idyllic detached houses. The curtains and blinds are still drawn; apparently hardly anyone has to get up that early in Kiel-Holtenau. Then it's out into nature. Meadows and pastures, a few patches of forest line the almost 50-kilometre route north-west of Kiel, a picture-book landscape in northern Germany.
Birdsong breaks the morning silence, a lone tractor chugs across the field and the rapeseed glows a little more yellow in the morning light. The grandiose atmosphere in the light of the rising sun is transferred to the cyclists. "There's a very special energy here," enthuses Robin, and everyone is awake by the halfway point at the latest. There is lively chatter, two commuters on their e-bikes are greeted in a friendly manner around three dozen times; people now know each other on this Friday morning route.
In the beginning, it was just a handful of friends who came up with the idea of the Kiel Dawn Patrol. But after a few posts on Instagram, "the thing practically exploded", as Robin Feder explains. At the very first launch in early summer 2020, more than 30 people stood on the pier of the Reventlou Bridge to cycle into the sunrise together. Shortly afterwards, there were three times as many, and on really great days, more than 100 racing cyclists now set off on the Kiel Dawn Patrol. The start is always at 5.30 a.m., always at the same meeting point, you always cycle the same route, always at an average speed of 28 km/h.
If you miss it, you're out of luck!
This is organised by the road captains. The Kiel Dawn Patrol offers absolute reliability. "Because apart from the fact that it's mega cool to be out and about with nice people in this morning atmosphere, it's also a great offer for anyone who otherwise has little time to ride a road bike - for family or work reasons," says Robin. At 5.30 a.m., says the road captain, virtually nobody has appointments. If you're late, you're either out of luck or have to really push yourself to reach the group.
Between mid-April and the end of October, they now ride their laps every Friday morning. And the initiators have achieved much more: the Dawn Patrol has created a community of racing cyclists that did not previously exist in Kiel. Many have now bought the black and colourful jersey with "Kiel Dawn Patrol" printed on it. Everything has grown organically, there is no obligation. You just need to register for the respective tour - so that the road captains know whether they have to accompany 30 or 130 cyclists.
In addition to the classic Dawn Patrol, there has long been a so-called Easy Patrol, always on Tuesdays, also from 5.30 am. The Easy Patrol rides at a 25 km/h pace, so almost anyone who is reasonably sporty can keep up - even if they have never ridden a road bike before. Like Jakob Brand. One fine morning, he dragged himself out of bed and stood at the start line on his Dutch bike.
Leave no one behind
"At the beginning, I had real respect for riding in a large group, and afterwards I was really flat every time," he recalls. But everything you need to learn to ride safely in the Peleton, including the obligatory hand signals, is patiently and repeatedly explained to the rookies by the road captains at the Easy Patrol.
Slowly but surely, Jakob got on better and better. He has long since bought himself a smart retro racing bike and is now comfortably in the field of the Kiel Dawn Patrol. It's very rare that someone has to drop out. You could say that the organisers have adopted the motto "Leave no one behind"; this also applies to the gravel tour that they organise in the winter months.
The Dusk Patrol on Wednesday evening is a little different: it's a real blast through the fields and meadows on the outskirts of Kiel, with an average speed of around 40 kilometres per hour. The Dawn Patrol on Friday morning is also a real thrill: the local sign sprint off Knoop. On this cold May morning, however, the sprint is much longer than usual.
Cycling culture and coffee culture
Back at the Reventlou Bridge, some drivers quickly say goodbye; duty calls, not everyone works flexitime. The others head towards the city centre to Café 9, where road captains Robin and Marc turn into first-class baristas. This symbiosis between cycling culture and coffee culture is also cultivated here in the far north. The flat white is great, but I'm already awake anyway. And in a great mood, like everyone in the Kiel-Dawn Patrol community, who are now sitting in front of their delicious pastries and coffee with beaming faces.
Nevertheless, I once again ask the penetrating question of why they don't meet twelve hours later at 5.30 pm for a road bike ride? "Quite simply," says Road Captain Marc, "because then I'm not sitting at my desk all day with a smile on my face." "It's just a great feeling to start the day like this," adds Robin, conjuring up a wonderful flower in the foam of my second Flat White.
It has a lot to do with your inner bastard. And it's true that you feel much better when you've conquered it. "I've chickened out before and turned round when the alarm clock went off," admits Johann Rathjen, "but you feel rather rubbish afterwards."
So let's be clear: it's pretty crazy to get up at 4.30 a.m., but it's great to be out and about with the Kiel Dawn Patrol. And perhaps they will soon find more imitators in Germany; there is already a similar community in Berlin. But the sun also rises reliably over the Elbe, the Isar or the Rhine.
