A weekend "filthy rich"Gravel biking in the Sauerland

It was Friday lunchtime. There was still a bit of chaos on the desk and dirty laundry in the basement. While I tried to become the master of both battlefields, I ran slaloms around children's toys and balanced my guilty conscience past the two dogs. They alternately fixed me and the front door with their googly eyes. However, the weekday tiredness was steadily replaced by the excitement of the upcoming weekend. My travelling bag stood in the middle of the hustle and bustle and while I accompanied the furry friends on their rounds, I mentally threw one item after another into it. I was a bit out of practice - since my arrival in family life and the months-long Covid challenge, even the radius for "just getting out for a bit" had shrunk to a minimum. Now I was full of anticipation again.

I wrote "Bye darling - I miss you already" on a note in the kitchen and set off on my micro-adventure. I had put the everyday casserole to one side and instead packed all the ingredients for my favourite dish in the boot: my great gravel bike, a fine selection of routes, dusty weather with a guarantee of sunburn, time until Sunday afternoon, a selection of various biscuits and, of course, the pre-packed travel bag.

Less than two hours later, I found myself in the car park of the Aktiv Hotel Winterberg car park. In the Sauerland. Just round the corner, so to speak. And although it had literally been a few years since I had been here, my memories of the collection of my stays here gave me a medium-hot dose of lactate in my legs. The majority of my visits were between the start and finish line and the focus was clearly on reaching the latter as quickly as possible. Mountain bike marathons were my favourite activity at the weekend. It was my greatest pleasure to heave myself up all the hills for hours with a heart rate of around 180 and then sprint down them again - also with a heart rate of 180, of course. At the finish line, I let myself be picked up by the cake counter and set off a happy calorie firework display. A bit crazy - from today's perspective. As you can perhaps imagine, I lacked a bit of an eye for the "country and its people" in the whole endeavour. The upcoming visit should be a little different. Hallelujah.

 

For the two half days of the trip, Friday and Sunday, tours of around 40 kilometres were on the cards, with just under 500 metres of altitude difference on each. The queen's stage on Saturday was supposed to offer 60 kilometres of gravel fun and even crack the nice mark of 1000 metres of altitude. Of course, the tour pot also had a few things from the "higher, faster, further" category on offer. For me, however, this selection felt just right and, above all, very doable. After all, the focus was on pure gravel enjoyment with one or two interruptions from the dessert segment.

Thanks to the short journey, I was able to jump straight into my cycling gear and get motivated on the saddle. It was just 3 p.m. when I rolled out of the car park and onto the first gravel path. But the rolling was soon over, because the mountain was calling: The Kahle Asten, NRW's second-highest mountain at 841 metres, had great panoramas to offer as well as excellent rice pudding. Eating with a view is always worthwhile and is highly recommended even after just 20 minutes. There were still a few kilometres to go with one or two hills, as the view into the distance made clear to me. A pretty brilliant preview of the weekend, along with the certainty that it would probably hold many spectacular views in store. And so it was to be. 

The rest of the route linked Altastenberg, Nordenau "the pearl of the Hochsauerland" and the lowest point of the tour, Westfeld, as if in flight. In the slowly setting sun, the pastures and forests shone so golden that the long descent seemed heavenly and gave me almost effortless propulsion for the metres of altitude I had to climb back to Winterberg. I would have liked to have written "weightless" here - but unfortunately the 250 metres in altitude over the last 10 kilometres didn't feel quite so easy after all. However, the lavishly filled plate and freshly tapped beer from the kitchen of the Landgasthof Gilsbach whose friendly staff had fortified me for the next day with fresh, seasonal and regional delicacies.

Of which we had no idea: A highlight was still waiting for us. A culinary one. The meal together at Landfein. Expecting a rather classic dinner, we were offered many small and particularly tasty delicacies in one menu. The modern cuisine invited us to completely rediscover familiar and traditional ingredients, as we only chose the main course. All the other courses on the menu were literally a delightful surprise. And so the description "gourmet restaurant" hits the nail on the head for our evening, as in addition to all the lovingly prepared and presented dishes, the atmosphere was just as warm and cosy as it was tasty. 

The last day didn't feel like a departure day at all. The tedious packing only took a few minutes, if you could even call it packing with the three sets of clothes we had taken with us, and there were no other thoughts about planning the return journey. A holiday on the doorstep - as simple as it is ingenious. Instead of wasting the whole day travelling home, I got on my bike instead of the car and took my time to do the last lap. It was called a panoramic tour and probably meant, among other things, the numerous far-reaching views of the Waldecker Land region. A quick glance at the Pastorenwiese ski hut was enough for me to decide to treat myself to a fresh waffle during my little break. A good opportunity to look back on my time in the Sauerland. 

 

I enjoyed the scent of the dense forest, the air from the open field and the freedom of my carefree thoughts. Lush meadows and panoramic benches invited me to linger and there was a suitable place for every biscuit in my handlebar bag. A regular calorie intake should of course be ensured during physical activity, as the routes also took me up a number of mountains and sometimes to the edge of my translation. But of course only to give me the certainty that a spectacular view would soon be waiting for me again or a hut with a hot waffle iron. The low mountain region made it really easy for me to fall in love all over again.

So my "full deceleration" took its course in the seemingly endless gravel network. If my time had been similarly endless, I would probably have stayed even longer. But I had to arrive back at some point, and I did. Not just with myself or at home, but especially with the certainty that it doesn't take much and, above all, doesn't take far to be "rich as a stone".