Voyages of a happy amature

German-born Karsten Koehler polished his cycling skills on UK commuter routes in London, and then Cambridgeshire – but he remained a cheerful amateur until, inspired by the London Olympics, he picked up the Audax bug. Despite taking on some gruelling cycle challenges across many borders, he remains content with his dilettante status. This is his story…

Voyages of a

The Achensee, populated by Pedalos happy amateur

IT WAS THE London Olympics of 2012 which first inspired me to take part in organised cycling. In the months before the Games ordinary folk were encouraged to take part in a charity challenge, involving a variety of different sports. I chose running, swimming, rowing, taekwondo… and cycling.

I’ve never been into competitive cycling, so I researched some local events. It seemed the easiest way would be to take part in the 2011 Emitremmus Desrever 100k, organised by the Stevenage and North Herts CTC.

This spirit of amateurism was extended to my bike, a hybrid more accustomed to all-weather-commuting (in flat country), shopping, and pulling children’s trailers – and theft-proofed by its outward appearance. Having used the bike in these different activities for 15 years, it had become so imprinted into my body memory that I got dizzy if I rode another bike.

Such familiarity ensured stability. Indeed, I can only remember falling off three times – once when I slipped on ice, once when it was run over by a London taxi cab, and once when I was trying to mount it – in a very public spot (and no alcohol was involved). Experienced on London’s glass-studded streets, it was also equipped with no-flat-tyres. Peace of mind is worth the cost in speed.

The hills of Hertfordshire on the Emitremmus turned out to be a challenge. In the following year, and equipped with a new gearing, the time had come for my first randonnee, the Cambridge 200. But I was still a shift-lazy Fenland rider, and this showed when, on a sudden uphill turn, the chain jumped and got stuck between cassette and hub. It was impossible to see how it could get out (or how it could have got in) without a chain tool, which I didn’t carry. Fortunately it was less than 10 km to the next control in Olney, so I rode there in the traditional dandy horse style to deal with the problem in a more comfortable atmosphere. Over a coffee, with a bit of patience and a Swiss Army penknife, the chain and the bike were put back on track.

In this spirit of dilettantism I set out on the road of continual improvisations. Long rides and associated mental free-wheeling led to “inventions'' like a baguette holder, an “energy drink” powder (whey, maltodextrin, instant coffee, salts & vitamins) or a tria-bar mounted headlight which can be turned around into a map reading lamp – I like to navigate by route sheet, because the mental maths involved in working out how long it will take to the next turn help me stay awake.

To keep me motivated, I was now looking for a challenge that would not take too much time or effort but which would involve some interesting planning, so I set my sights on the International Super Randonneur. To qualify for this, one has to do BRM brevets in four countries. These are the rides I chose:

October 2017:

Dying Light 200k, starting in Dublin. This is a great season-closer and the social event of the Irish randonneur community. I completed it after battling strong autumn headwinds on Irish roads that were so rough that my backlight cover jumped ship.

Karsten starting at the 600k in Gießen, protected against hard, bright and infectious elements

May 2018:

Green and Yellow Fields 300k starting in Manningtree, Essex, and organised by Audax Mid-Essex. My East Anglian cycling experience was not a disadvantage in this smooth ride, and the weather was so fine that I learned where sunscreen needed to be applied on a cyclist.

June 2019: 400k starting in Dunkerque, France

– most French brevets don’t have individual names. Riding in impromptu groups, and taking regular breaks together is the norm here, when compared to British rides, which build more on the local tradition of time trials. In France, clubmanaged controls are not so much of a social hub, as most events are selfsupported. On the other hand, some riders are able to organise support on the spot, for example, by persuading the mayor of a village to let a small bar open for refreshments in the middle of the night. Also, French hotel porters don’t seem to be surprised about being asked to stamp brevet cards in the small hours.

August 2021: 600k. Gießen, Hessen, Germany.

By now I was living in Heidelberg. My plans for a 600k in 2020 were put on hold due to Covid. The closest event for me was the Großenwiedener Antizykel.

On Saturday, 14 August, we started at the pedestrian overpass in Gießen, which the locals call the “elephant’s toilet” because of its big round opening. I used the smartphone app “Digital Brevet Card” for contact-free validation. Unfortunately, even on a summer night the airstream can cool an uncovered phone so much that no electrons want to come out of the battery. So I relied on snapshots with my emergency camera, and on cashier receipts.

Shop opening times on weekends are short, but petrol stations are plenty and are often open around the clock. Since central Germany is full of mid to smallsized mountain ranges, a brevet through this region involves a lot of up and down between towns unless you follow a river. Thanks to the relaxed Sunday afternoon mood, no motorist honked at a cyclist struggling uphill to the point where they became an involuntary pedestrian. I finished by taking a photo of my bike in front of the elephant’s toilet on Sunday evening before catching the train home.

After riding a 600k almost entirely on my own, I was looking forward to some social riding, so I signed up for one of many brevets which globally celebrate the centenary of free-paced randonneuring in September 2021. One hundred years ago 77 cyclists started from the Porte Maillot in Paris for the first free-paced 200 km brevet. Apparently, all of them, including a married couple and a one-armed veteran, completed the course within the 16-hour time limit. Les Randonneurs Mondiaux was created with the objective of encouraging and applauding the efforts of cyclists who take part in brevets of 1200kms and above.

The biggest number of jubilee riders turned up in India, where 400 of them celebrated the anniversary in Bengaluru alone. For me, it would be easiest to get to the one in Munich. In the gentle drizzle of the starting line was illuminated by the fluorescent jackets and vests of more than a hundred starters. Social distance measures had been partially relaxed, making this event probably the biggest brevet in Germany on this side of the pandemic.

Starting in groups, we rode the first kilometres out of the city along the gravelly banks of the Isar and then continued southwards through the Perlacher forest. Sheltered from sun, wind, rain and hills this cycleway is ideal for cycle-based conversations.

Soon the drizzle gave way to a clear sky and the Alps became visible, and the ascent was so steady it was barely noticeable. After a much-needed coffee and cake at the first control in Lenggries, it was time to head into the mountains. At the end of a tunnel we encountered a stunning panorama, with the blue waters of the Sylvenstein reservoir below us.

We followed the Ache, the inlet feeding the reservoir, upstream into a narrowing valley and the road changed into a gritty forest track winding uphill. It ended at a sign telling us that we were now in Austria.

Crossing the Inn river near the Fortress of Kufstein

This made me wonder which brevet crosses most countries. Belgium might be a good place to look for it. Within slightly more than 600k, it should be possible to ride through eight countries – beginning in the southernmost corner of the Netherlands, crossing into Germany with brief excursions into Belgium and Luxembourg, crossing the Rhine and touching the French border, then towards Bregenz at the Austrian end of Lake Constance, and from there, briefly over the Rhine (because the left bank is Switzerland), and back again on to the right bank into Liechtenstein. The first five of these countries would not even take 200k to cycle.

From the border on the mountain pass, we rode on well-groomed roads up the Ache river until arriving at the lake out of which it flows. Among other leisure activities, the blue-green waters of the Achensee are an excellent cruising ground for pedalos. These watercraft were developed not far from here, and did their first rounds on Bavarian lakes in 1810, a handful of years before Baron von Drais first rode on two wheels.

After passing the end of the lake, the ride reached its highest (and halfway) point at about 968m above sea level – we were riding in the Alps now, but still without much uphill struggle. The descent was moderate as well – trailing a livestock transporter, limiting our speed to an adrenaline-saving 51 km/h. At the bottom we reached the valley of the Inn river, and followed the cycle path through a well-developed tourist region towards the next checkpoint in Wörgl (133 km). I validated there with a traditional stamp, as the digital brevet card did not seem to work (expected if one travels abroad without turning on international roaming).

We stayed close to the Inn past the border fortress of Kufstein and crossed another unnoticeable border back into Germany, and the horizon opened again. After a cake stop at the 175 km checkpoint at Brannenburg, we left the Inn cycle path – it would finally merge into the Danube cycle path downstream in Passau. Instead, our small group followed its tributary the Mangfall upstream, and cycled past tiny cascades, towards the beer garden finish, into the sunset.

INTERNATIONAL SUPER RANDONNEUR

The ISR was established in 1989 to encourage riders to take part in Randonneurs Mondiaux events in different countries. To achieve the award a rider needs to complete a super randonneur series (200, 300, 400 and 600km) under the Randonneur Mondiaux code. Each ride must be completed in a different country, and can be undertaken over any period of time. There is also a special recognition for riders travelling to different continents to qualify. For more information, visit: www.randonneursmondiaux.org

/36-ISR.html?langue=EN

BRM 100 Jubilee Medal

(OPEN SOURCE, KARTIK MISTRY VIA WIKIPEDIA)

ABOUT KARSTEN KÖHLER

Karsten grew up in the north German flatlands, and has cycled as long as he can remember, but favours convenience over speed. He moved to London in 2006 to work in bioscience research, and then to Cambridge – and had exciting and boring commutes in both places. More comfortable with cycle commuting than in racing, he got involved in both the Cambridge Cycling Campaign and Audax/Randonneuring. He now lives in Heidelberg and, at the age of 45, still does not own a car.

Riding into the sunset towards the finish Karsten after breakfast in Le Crotoy on French coast sporting a snazzy Baguette bracket