Anyone who rides a road bike and loves hill climbing knows about the fascination of the great, majestic passes of the Alps. And so it doesn't take long before I as a beginner was gripped by the call of the Alps too. Constanze and I, Céline have spent a long time dreaming about riding up the Stelvio's 48 hairpin bends and elevation profile of 1,800 metres and looking up at the Ortler. And when I was finally in possession of my IZALCO MAX 8.9, we were ready to go. After all, you don't have to be a pro to conquer the Queen of the Alps. Or do you?
HOW IT ALL BEGAN: The beginning of a road bike love affair
It was only a relatively recent thing that I fell in love with road cycling. And yet, after those initial stirrings, it still took a little while until I actually sat on a road bike for the very first time.
March 2020 – Germany enters its first lockdown, and in one fell swoop, I am robbed of almost all my sources of pleasure: ski touring and mountain hiking that my friends and I refrain from doing to preserve the resources of the emergency services, shared training sessions in the gym, restaurant visits – even to have visitors or let alone visit someone – and almost all other social and sporting opportunities which I had previously used to recharge my batteries.
And while 50% of Germans take to putting on their running shoes, I join the other half and get on my bike. First, I rode my old hardtail, which was superseded a few months later by my new MARES 9.8 – my first dealing with road bike geometry. To be able to ride out of the front door as fast and as far as my bike and fitness would take me, away from confinement, loneliness and weltschmerz, did me an incredible amount of good.
HOW IT ALL BEGAN: The beginning of a road bike love affair
It was only a relatively recent thing that I fell in love with road cycling. And yet, after those initial stirrings, it still took a little while until I actually sat on a road bike for the very first time. March 2020 – Germany enters its first lockdown, and in one fell swoop, I am robbed of almost all my sources of pleasure:
Ski touring and mountain hiking that my friends and I refrain from doing to preserve the resources of the emergency services, shared training sessions in the gym, restaurant visits – even to have visitors or let alone visit someone – and almost all other social and sporting opportunities which I had previously used to recharge my batteries.
And while 50% of Germans take to putting on their running shoes, I join the other half and get on my bike. First, I rode my old hardtail, which was superseded a few months later by my new MARES 9.8 – my first dealing with road bike geometry. To be able to ride out of the front door as fast and as far as my bike and fitness would take me, away from confinement, loneliness and weltschmerz, did me an incredible amount of good.
AS A NOVICE ON THE ALPINE PASS: Turning the dream into a plan
If you live in Munich, as I do, such rides quickly take you into the Bavarian foothills of the Alps and up some serious inclines. And I quickly realised two things: firstly, I liked reaching a destination somewhere higher up the mountain with my own physical and mental strength just as much on the bike as I did on foot. And secondly, with a 1x11 gear set, this was very quickly the end of the road – for me at least on the hills.
Looking to escape the loneliness caused by the pandemic and to find people to ride with, I first came into contact with the world of road cyclists. And I quickly realised how many vocabulary, dress, behaviour, performance and language rules there seem to be that I had no clue about. This triggered a feeling in me that I already knew from other sports – the uncertainty of whether and how I, with my great enthusiasm and equally great ignorance, should even find access to this sport, and whether the cool kids would let me play too.
But my curiosity and desire to ride were greater. I found companions in the MUNICH MOUNTAIN GIRLS community who had a similar fitness level and mindset to me and were equally motivated to chomp up the distance and ride the climbs. And I discovered that I was not alone with my insecurities.
While I was riding with my friends and the MARES in Bavaria and South Tyrol, the yearning grew inside me to climb one of these great mountain passes, of which I had already heard numerous tales. And so I devised a plan: I wanted to prove something to myself and anyone thinking the same as me: I wanted to show them that you don't have to have been riding a road bike for ten years, be top trained, have the stereotypical shape, speak or know your way around like a pro to take on challenges and experience an adventure. And what matters most is the right company and sharing both the love of sport and the experience.
I don't know if it's because of my love for South Tyrol, because of the iconic photos I have seen, or the promise of pizza and Aperol Spritz, but of all the passes, there was always one that leapt out at me: The Stelvio Pass or Passo dello Stelvio, its beautifully sounding Italian name – the second highest asphalt covered mountain pass in the Alps, which rises up 1,800 metres over 48 hairpin bends. To ride up there under my own steam, stand at the top and admire the Ortler – the region's highest peak – this was the one! And I didn't want to do it alone, because I enjoy adventures more when I can share all my impressions and feelings.
So I called upon my best mountain goat friend Constanze, known as Schtänzi, and asked if she would like to join me. Schtänzi, whom I also met at MUNICH MOUNTAIN GIRLS and who had started cycling around the same time as me, did not hesitate to jump on board. We looked at our schedules together, found a gap, booked accommodation and turned my dream into a plan.
If you live in Munich, as I do, such rides quickly take you into the Bavarian foothills of the Alps and up some serious inclines. And I quickly realised two things: firstly, I liked reaching a destination somewhere higher up the mountain with my own physical and mental strength just as much on the bike as I did on foot. And secondly, with a 1x11 gear set, this was very quickly the end of the road – for me at least on the hills.
Looking to escape the loneliness caused by the pandemic and to find people to ride with, I first came into contact with the world of road cyclists. And I quickly realised how many vocabulary, dress, behaviour, performance and language rules there seem to be that I had no clue about.
This triggered a feeling in me that I already knew from other sports – the uncertainty of whether and how I, with my great enthusiasm and equally great ignorance, should even find access to this sport, and whether the cool kids would let me play too.
But my curiosity and desire to ride were greater. I found companions in the MUNICH MOUNTAIN GIRLS community who had a similar fitness level and mindset to me and were equally motivated to chomp up the distance and ride the climbs. And I discovered that I was not alone with my insecurities.
While I was riding with my friends and the MARES in Bavaria and South Tyrol, the yearning grew inside me to climb one of these great mountain passes, of which I had already heard numerous tales. And so I devised a plan: I wanted to prove something to myself and anyone thinking the same as me:
I wanted to show them that you don't have to have been riding a road bike for ten years, be top trained, have the stereotypical shape, speak or know your way around like a pro to take on challenges and experience an adventure. And what matters most is the right company and sharing both the love of sport and the experience.
I don't know if it's because of my love for South Tyrol, because of the iconic photos I have seen, or the promise of pizza and Aperol Spritz, but of all the passes, there was always one that leapt out at me: The Stelvio Pass or Passo dello Stelvio, its beautifully sounding Italian name – the second highest asphalt covered mountain pass in the Alps, which rises up 1,800 metres over 48 hairpin bends.
To ride up there under my own steam, stand at the top and admire the Ortler – the region's highest peak – this was the one! And I didn't want to do it alone, because I enjoy adventures more when I can share all my impressions and feelings. So I called upon my best mountain goat friend Constanze, known as Schtänzi, and asked if she would like to join me.
Schtänzi, whom I also met at MUNICH MOUNTAIN GIRLS and who had started cycling around the same time as me, did not hesitate to jump on board. We looked at our schedules together, found a gap, booked accommodation and turned my dream into a plan.
BEFORE THE CLIMB: Training for the Stelvio
BEFORE THE CLIMB: Training for the Stelvio
"To become a better climber, you have to climb"
Fast forward some time: Summer 2022. I'm standing on a ramp with my brand-new IZALCO MAX 8.9 somewhere in a picture postcard panorama of Bavaria and experiencing a fundamental existential crisis. What was I thinking, believing I could climb 1,800 metres in one go with my level of fitness and training in four weeks?!
My thighs are trembling and feel as if someone has opened the valve of a rubber dinghy and pushed hard. My pulse is racing. And my internal critic just won't pipe down. Of all the sports in the world, I had to choose one that is explicitly designed for skinny people and relies on continuous, disciplined endurance base training. As an epicurean, my discipline tends to last until the next glass of prosecco. And instead of being happy with small fry for the time being, I have naturally set my sights on one of the really big passes.
At least it seems that Schtänzi is in the same boat, she pulls up next to me on her CX bike and says that our springtime rides in Mallorca had not seemed as difficult. I don't know – maybe it's not the climb that's the issue, but me? In any case, I am sure that the problem does not have two wheels but two legs instead so leave a voice message for my MUNICH MOUNTAIN GIRLS friend and go-to person for all things road bike-related, Meike, and then promptly burst into tears.
Meike calls, asks me what my nutrition is like, how I eat on the road and how I am training for the Stelvio Pass. The same day she then sends me a detailed email with nutrition tips and training sessions. It is then that I realise that I have two options: I can carry on as before and rely on my willpower to carry me up the mountain, no matter what the cost. Or I can try to make my mind and body as fit as possible in the remaining four weeks until the big day.
Fast forward some time: Summer 2022. I'm standing on a ramp with my brand-new IZALCO MAX 8.9 somewhere in a picture postcard panorama of Bavaria and experiencing a fundamental existential crisis. What was I thinking, believing I could climb 1,800 metres in one go with my level of fitness and training in four weeks?!
My thighs are trembling and feel as if someone has opened the valve of a rubber dinghy and pushed hard. My pulse is racing. And my internal critic just won't pipe down. Of all the sports in the world, I had to choose one that is explicitly designed for skinny people and relies on continuous, disciplined endurance base training. As an epicurean, my discipline tends to last until the next glass of prosecco. And instead of being happy with small fry for the time being, I have naturally set my sights on one of the really big passes.
At least it seems that Schtänzi is in the same boat, she pulls up next to me on her CX bike and says that our springtime rides in Mallorca had not seemed as difficult. I don't know – maybe it's not the climb that's the issue, but me? In any case, I am sure that the problem does not have two wheels but two legs instead so leave a voice message for my MUNICH MOUNTAIN GIRLS friend and go-to person for all things road bike-related, Meike, and then promptly burst into tears. Meike calls, asks me what my nutrition is like, how I eat on the road and how I am training for the Stelvio Pass. The same day she then sends me a detailed email with nutrition tips and training sessions.
It is then that I realise that I have two options: I can carry on as before and rely on my willpower to carry me up the mountain, no matter what the cost. Or I can try to make my mind and body as fit as possible in the remaining four weeks until the big day.
"To become a better climber, you have to climb"
So I get stuck in. "To become a better climber, you have to climb", Meike told me, so, at weekends, my friends and I get on the train with our bikes and head for the mountains. I do interval sessions after work. And I talk to other people who know their stuff. I meet the photographer and cycling fanatic Kathrin Schafbauer through the MUNICH MOUNTAIN GIRLS network and she invites me to her home in Ingolstadt to answer all the questions that have been buzzing around in my head:
How do I move up the mountain while conserving energy and how do I navigate the bends well on the descent? What do I pack, and what do I eat before and during? And how is it now exactly with this gearing? Is it normal I will never stop wishing I could shift down another gear while riding up the pass? Kathrin advises me to make it as easy as possible. And she is not alone in this. My bike fitter and my trusted mechanic also think that it won't harm me to have a larger cassette and that I shouldn't underestimate how much more energy I have to expend to get my 178 cm and 85 kg uphill compared to a stereotypical road cyclist.
Rarely have I been able to accept comments from men about my body so readily as in these moments. And I decide to switch from 52/36 to 52/34 on the front and from 11–30 to 11–32 on the rear, which finally means that on the mountain I'm not relying on my granny gear the whole time and have a bit in reserve for the steepest sections. But will the few extra gear teeth and training sessions be enough to carry me up to 2,757 metres above sea level? I treat it like any other mountain ride, which I have respect for, and don't think any further than I will definitely try and treat myself to a spaghetti ice cream if I make it. Everything else will fall into place when I get there.
THE CLIMB ITSELF: Conquering the Queen of the Alps on the IZALCO MAX
THE CLIMB ITSELF: Conquering the Queen of the Alps on the IZALCO MAX
The time has finally come at seven o'clock on a Thursday morning in August: Schtänzi, her rental bike, my IZALCO and I are standing in front of the blue sign indicating the start of the Stelvio Pass, which is decorated all over with colourful stickers. We don't talk much, we do a high five once and say goodbye until the first joint stop. This is because we agreed to have stops to regroup allowing us to ride at our respective paces. I recall everything I had learned in recent weeks: Start slowly, change down in time, find a rhythm, drink lots and don't forget the gummy bears in my jersey pocket. And then it's time to start.
The time has finally come at seven o'clock on a Thursday morning in August: Schtänzi, her rental bike, my IZALCO and I are standing in front of the blue sign indicating the start of the Stelvio Pass, which is decorated all over with colourful stickers. We don't talk much, we do a high five once and say goodbye until the first joint stop.
This is because we agreed to have stops to regroup allowing us to ride at our respective paces. I recall everything I had learned in recent weeks: Start slowly, change down in time, find a rhythm, drink lots and don't forget the gummy bears in my jersey pocket. And then it's time to start.
For the first ten of an estimated 25 kilometres total, the pass stretches almost straight back into the valley, climbing steadily along a stream, past the small towns of Gomagoi and Trafoi. A sign with the inscription 48 indicates the first hairpin bend, and it takes a while to pass the next few as these are well-spaced out. There is little going on and I am glad that we decided to start early and on a weekday. Not long, and the Ortler Massif, which will be our constant companion for the remainder of the ride, comes into view for the first time. I focus on the beautiful vistas and distract myself from listening to my inner voice. The supposed meditative rhythm, which everyone talks about and which I am relying on seems to be eluding me, but maybe I am just overthinking it.
After the Bella Vista Hotel, which looks like it's straight out of a Wes Anderson film, the road moves into a forest and the frequency of hairpin bends increases. Schtänzi always stays in sight, every now and then we stop briefly, take a sip from our water bottles and chat about how we are doing. "Are you OK?" – "Yes, I'm fine." I felt comfortable on the IZALCO from day one. Investing in a saddle that fits my anatomy was one of the best decisions, and I can easily ride well over 100 km without any discomfort.
Meike, who at 1.81m is three centimetres taller than me and rides the IZALCO MAX 9.7 in L, advised me to choose an M frame after the size chart indicated I was exactly between the two sizes. The bike fit backed this up as not much had to be changed apart from the saddle and pedal position. To make my position on the bike even more comfortable, I could even fit a 90 or 80 stem instead of the original 100 and go up with an additional 10 mm with a spacer, I am told and shown how I sometimes draw my shoulders up or reach further back on the handlebars than ideal to offset the 10 mm and 8-degree drop angle.
Slowly the trees become fewer, and the volume of traffic starts to increase. The road winds slightly to the right, and then we set eyes on it for the first time: the height of the pass with its zigzag façade of bends, of which we have only just gotten half in the bag. We decide against getting an espresso at the Franzenshöhe mountain hotel and opted for one last gel. Without many words, we agree that we want to get to the summit and tackle the last 500 metres of climbing. I have found my rhythm, it is quiet in my head and all I am aware of is my pedalling, steady breaths and the landscape around me. Meanwhile, I am certain that I will reach the top without any problems, and that is an incredibly good feeling. At bend 1, Schtänzi is waiting for me, and we ride side by side to the finish.
WE HAD REALLY DONE IT!
WE HAD REALLY DONE IT!
Once you reach the top, it's like being on a fairground. Souvenir kiosks and sausage stands line the sides, and countless cars, motorbikes, bicycles and people bustle around in the smallest of spaces. I feel as if I've been catapulted back into the real world after four hours of being on my own, and I don't quite know what to do with myself. So I take the obligatory selfie in front of the sign at the highest point and send it to a few people back home who have been awaiting this moment with me. When the first congratulatory messages arrive, I start to cry. We had really done it! And it was more beautiful and went better than I had dared to hope!
Schtänzi finds the atmosphere equally stressful and is a little worried about the descent, as her rental bike has rim brakes that could easily overheat. So we just grab a quick bite to eat, don our jackets and gloves and head back. We have decided on a round trip and ride the back of the Stelvio to the north-east through Switzerland over the Umbrail Pass and on to Val Müstair. We take it easy, stopping every now and again to check Schtänzi's brakes, and with every bend, our nervousness diminishes, and our grins broaden. Back in Prad, we waste no time in finding a small ice cream parlour. Never has a spaghetti ice cream tasted so good as it does now.
Once you reach the top, it's like being on a fairground. Souvenir kiosks and sausage stands line the sides, and countless cars, motorbikes, bicycles and people bustle around in the smallest of spaces. I feel as if I've been catapulted back into the real world after four hours of being on my own, and I don't quite know what to do with myself.
So I take the obligatory selfie in front of the sign at the highest point and send it to a few people back home who have been awaiting this moment with me. When the first congratulatory messages arrive, I start to cry. We had really done it! And it was more beautiful and went better than I had dared to hope!
Schtänzi finds the atmosphere equally stressful and is a little worried about the descent, as her rental bike has rim brakes that could easily overheat. So we just grab a quick bite to eat, don our jackets and gloves and head back. We have decided on a round trip and ride the back of the Stelvio to the north-east through Switzerland over the Umbrail Pass and on to Val Müstair.
We take it easy, stopping every now and again to check Schtänzi's brakes, and with every bend, our nervousness diminishes, and our grins broaden. Back in Prad, we waste no time in finding a small ice cream parlour. Never has a spaghetti ice cream tasted so good as it does now.
AFTER THE CLIMB: What I learned
AFTER THE CLIMB: What I learned
Whether it was bold or unwise or a mixture of both choosing the Stelvio as my very first Alpine pass is in the eye of the reader. In any case, this pass will not be my only one with the IZALCO, now that I have conquered the "Queen of the Alps" on it and proven to myself what I can achieve.
Whether it was bold or unwise or a mixture of both choosing the Stelvio as my very first Alpine pass is in the eye of the reader. In any case, this pass will not be my only one with the IZALCO, now that I have conquered the "Queen of the Alps" on it and proven to myself what I can achieve.
While preparing for this feat, I learned a few things that I will also bear in mind for future ventures. For example, I will never forget to eat and drink regularly on challenging rides: from the second hour onwards, about 50–80 g of carbohydrates per hour, plus a bottle of electrolyte powder mix (not calorie-reduced) and a bottle of water works well for me, and it's worth finding out what your own body needs. I can cope with gels and smoothies well but can't chew bars on the go, it's the exact opposite for some of my friends. Besides that, I will continue to make it as easy as I can and encourage everyone not to be ashamed to change their bike's gearing if they are just struggling on the hill in their granny gear. That was the biggest game-changer for me aside from nutrition.
I will certainly also try to accumulate as many climbing metres and ride as often as I possibly can before embarking on the next major adventure. In the few weeks alone during which I trained for climbing the Stelvio in as structured a way as work and life alongside sport permitted, I noticed a significant increase in fitness, both physically and mentally. My minimum was one long ride with a lot of climbing and one after-work ride with power endurance intervals (5–10 minutes in a heaviest gear, low cadence, pedalling easily in between for the same amount of time) per week. Moreover, I did core stability exercises in front of the TV and stretched extensively after every physical activity and took magnesium before going to bed.
While preparing for this feat, I learned a few things that I will also bear in mind for future ventures. For example, I will never forget to eat and drink regularly on challenging rides: from the second hour onwards, about 50–80 g of carbohydrates per hour, plus a bottle of electrolyte powder mix (not calorie-reduced) and a bottle of water works well for me, and it's worth finding out what your own body needs.
I can cope with gels and smoothies well but can't chew bars on the go, it's the exact opposite for some of my friends. Besides that, I will continue to make it as easy as I can and encourage everyone not to be ashamed to change their bike's gearing if they are just struggling on the hill in their granny gear. That was the biggest game-changer for me aside from nutrition.
I will certainly also try to accumulate as many climbing metres and ride as often as I possibly can before embarking on the next major adventure. In the few weeks alone during which I trained for climbing the Stelvio in as structured a way as work and life alongside sport permitted, I noticed a significant increase in fitness, both physically and mentally.
My minimum was one long ride with a lot of climbing and one after-work ride with power endurance intervals (5–10 minutes in a heaviest gear, low cadence, pedalling easily in between for the same amount of time) per week. Moreover, I did core stability exercises in front of the TV and stretched extensively after every physical activity and took magnesium before going to bed.
But the most important thing is that I will continue to surround myself with people whose company is good for me and fun. Riding together, laughing, sharing stories and learning from each other gives me confidence in myself and my abilities and gives me the huge pleasure which I had been looking for when I first got on my bike. This story would not have happened without my friends and the MUNICH MOUNTAIN GIRLS community.
But the most important thing is that I will continue to surround myself with people whose company is good for me and fun. Riding together, laughing, sharing stories and learning from each other gives me confidence in myself and my abilities and gives me the huge pleasure which I had been looking for when I first got on my bike. This story would not have happened without my friends and the MUNICH MOUNTAIN GIRLS community.