Shred Gang 🤙

Last week I found myself in Bolzano, ready to start a bikepacking expedition with a group of people who shared my passion for riding bikes and had signed up for a big tour through the Dolomites. I didn’t question why they were there - it made perfect sense to me. What fascinated me more was the diversity of the riders, each coming from a completely different background. I met young riders, old riders, riders with no hair, riders with too much. Doctors, art dealers, students - people from all walks of life. Some had ultra-light setups with zero sleeping gear except for an emergency blanket, others were on old bikes loaded with bags full of tools for every possible situation, and some simply came with the mindset that they’d finish no matter what, regardless of gear or the condition of their bike. Someone even brought an old 26" MTB with rim brakes.

From the outside, it might seem like this group knew exactly what they were doing, but trust me - that was mostly a façade. In reality, it was a group of adults rediscovering the childlike joy of riding and simply having fun outdoors. Many were kind, ordinary people dipping their toes in and trying SNEAK PEAKS as their first bikepacking event, testing out what so-called "adventure cycling" is all about.

Alright, time for the recap…

**Day 01 - Friday:**

06:50. My alarm went off with Bob Marley’s *Natural Mystic*. Start as you mean to go on! It was raining, but *c'est la shred*; the fun was ahead, and the mountains were waiting to be explored. I drank some coffee, devoured a bowl of muesli, and packed up my tent, shoving bananas into my pockets as I rushed to get ready.

The race started at 8 am (though the "ADVENTURE" riders had left 24 hours earlier, ahead of the "CLASSIC" and "ENTREE" riders).

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Spirits were high as we all rode out of the campsite together and stayed in a “controlled” fashion for the first 10 km. Then, boom! Straight up the first steep climb. We rose out of the Eisack/Isarco Valley and into the mountains above —something we’d get accustomed to over the next few days, like a rhythm, like the beating of footsteps.

In the world of mountain bike trails, a “qualifying feature” is a challenge at the start of a trail that tests the rider’s skills. The idea is if you pass this feature without crashing, then you’ve got what it takes to handle the rest of the trail (hopefully). Well, the first climb was the Sneak Peaks version of a qualifying feature.

The first climb was filled with conversation. While everyone has their own approach, I thrive on the social aspect of these events. I enjoyed meeting and chatting with different people throughout the first day, as the pack stayed close together. Creating a great opportunity to connect with a variety of interesting people, each bringing their own energy. For some riders, this climb was the start of new friendships.

Post-asphalt came our first taste of gravel—a spicy appetiser. The forest revealed itself in all its glory, and each time the clouds parted to showcase the mountains, I felt incredibly fortunate.

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After the big up came a big down. I love the combination of a long slog up an alpine pass followed by bombing down the other side.

Then came the climb to the first checkpoint. It was steeeep. I knew it was a dead-end or “Sackgasse,” and we’d be coming back down the same way. I looked up the road, then at my bike, and then at the bushes nearby. The idea hit me - stash my stuff! I hid my tent and bags in a bush, then started up the climb feeling lighter and chuffed with my moment of genius.

The approach was insane: postcard picturesque gravel tracks walled in by the Dolomites, overlooked by the first checkpoint (Rifugio Vajolet), a little dot super far away and high up.

I was quick to the top, got my precious stamp, and devoured a tasty Spaghetti Carbonara and soup. Other riders arrived, and we exchanged high-fives. Yep, living the life.

Then it was time to fly back down and find my bags. My good karma paid off; no one had stolen them, and they were exactly where I had left them in the Italian woods.

After the descent, there was a little kicker up a ski piste and some smooth chunk gravel descending. This led to a beautiful cycle path following the river in the Fassa Valley. The sun was out, it was hot, and the valley was looking good. I even got a free speed boost drafting behind an old Italian road racer. Then the valley ended, and a ridiculously steeeeep+ climb followed. I had to walk.

Then came the scree section. Riders were warned this would be a long, unrideable stretch. As a recreational hike-a-biker, I was really looking forward to it, and it didn’t disappoint - super beautiful and remote. Words can’t describe this place - you just have to go there (pack your hiking shoes!). After that came some shred-worthy, slippery rock and root trails tempting me to ride, but every time I clipped in, my girlfriend’s voice echoed in my head, reminding me to be safe. So yeah, I walked those too.

I was nearing checkpoint 2 (Rifugio Conseria) as darkness fell. I had travelled far. Upon arriving, the hut owners warmly welcomed me with a great bowl of pasta. Lots of laughter was shared by all. Some riders headed onwards into the night, but I asked to stay in the hut, and for just five euros, I got a spot in the dorm. I slept like a baby.

**Day 02 - Saturday:**

I woke up to an empty dorm. Maybe the other riders were eager to seize the day with an early start. Or maybe it was because I snore like a monster (sorry to anyone affected!).

When I walked into the main room of the hut, I was surprised to see how many more people had arrived while I was asleep. The floor was packed with bikepackers and their gear - at least 20 of them must have spent the night there. The hut owners, who hadn’t slept and had been providing food and support for riders coming in through the night, looked exhausted but happy. I smiled, appreciating the uniqueness of the moment and the sense of community created out of the chaos.

Stepping outside and boahhh!! There is nothing better than waking up in a hut and seeing the beautiful mountains from high up bathed in the sunrise colours.

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After a quick cappuccino and some chit-chat, I set off cruising into the valley below. rolling into another day of riding in the mountains, above the clouds - life was good.

The route sneaked through lush forests, and after a beautiful gravel ascent I got up to the top of the Brocon Pass. I saw a fellow rider, Jannes, drinking an espresso in the bar. I joined him, we both ate a cake and we hit it together.

The descent from the Brocon just kept on going and going! Jannes was riding super fast and I was hot on his heels all the way down… We rode together and chatted for a bit but I needed to stop for water and that was it. he was gone, I was alone, any sense of companionship left with him.

After a few more passes, I wondered why a fellow rider was coming the wrong way towards me. Another “Sackgasse” on the way to Rifugio Scarpa and Checkpoint 3! I knew what to do!  Quickly, I ditched my bags and made short work of the climb.

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It was another hut in a truly breathtaking location. As I arrived, Jannes was about to leave. I quickly got my stamp, grabbed an espresso, cake, and a sandwich to go, and set off with him.

We descended rapidly into the valley as the sun began to set. The sky was glowing and highlighted the sharp peaks of the Dolomites. Companionship was back on the table. Stopping briefly for gelato, we continued our journey, waffle in hand, heading up the next climb. We checked and found a climbing hut at a mountain pass where we could stay for the night. Another big plate of pasta awaited us before we drifted into a well-deserved sleep.

**Day 03 - Sunday:**

Our alarms were set for sunrise. We woke up, brushed our teeth, and hit the road. Another day of espresso culture and biking awe-inspiring alpine passages. 09:30 and we had already racked up 1500 metres of descent!

The day's menu was especially delicious —brioche, cake, toasted sandwiches, chips, and litres of lemon soda. So much pizza I became biologically 30% margherita.

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Jannes needed to swap his brake pads, but we were missing an Allen key. A local senior, standing in his driveway with his garage door open and brimming with tools appeared. Our hero. After some questionable Italian on our part, he was more than happy to help. He handed us a box of Allen keys and insisted we take one. Meanwhile, his wife made us coffee. The locals were truly lovely.

There was a report of a big storm coming in. It looked like rain would start around 16:00, dumping a lot of water by midnight. We decided to take early accommodation to avoid being caught in the storm. This also gave us a chance to rest and recuperate with real Italian pizza. Quite the hard life, right?

First, though, we had a big climb to checkpoint 4: Rifugio Antelao.

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Like the previous huts, it had a real charm to it. Here, I met Rapha (the organiser of SNEAK PEAKS) and Steffi (documentary creator) for the first time. We ate some soul nourishing homemade knödel and drank anything offered.The hut owner even helped me repair a hole in my shoe. Legend! As much as we loved our stay there, the approaching storm urged us to take a fast descent back into the valley.

There were only two places to stay in town. The first was full, so our decision was made. When we arrived at the second it was empty and there was a number on the desk. I called it, and the owner explained he was on holiday and the hotel was closed. I asked if there was a place nearby where we could stay. Surprisingly, he told us we could go behind the desk, take key 124, and help ourselves to breakfast. He asked us to leave some money in a book when we left. Amazing trust on his part - the local hospitality really came out for us that day.

**Day 04 - Monday:**

The next day started early. We would ride into the dark. We were well rested and had a mission of a big day in the mountains. It was still raining but I grew up in England and the rain somehow comforts me. We put on our rain jackets and put power to the pedal.

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We rode through the clouds over several alpine passes, smiling as the rain came down.Then we droped into a big gravel descent 600 m down back to the valley. It was pretty wet there. We were met by what would have normally been a very crossable stream with a road going through. However, the stream was now a raging river and the road was washed away. We walked up and down looking for the best place to cross. Finally, I found a way, but it required climbing up a small rock slide and pushing through some trees.

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Then on the other side we got stuck by another river to cross, this time even more powerful. Ops! Jannes threw a log in to check how deep it was, which immediately disappeared into the depths of the raging torrent. Yup!  Taking shelter under a nearby digger, presumably there to fix the road, we discussed the options: do we go back up to the top and take a road route down, or do we try to find another way. Jannes, my well trusted friend at this point, said the rational thing a German would say “We build a bridge”. I laughed. We hopped over the first river again and did the whole climbing dance again and got ready to build a bridge. Alas, when we got back to the second river, it was a whole 30 cm higher and even more powerful. We gave up… Back up the way we came we went!

By the time we reached the head of the gravel path, the sun was shining and the cows were sunbathing. What a contrast! Either way, we had a premium road descent down to a village where we rejoined the route. Though we were less than 5 kilometres from the waterways that stopped us, it had taken us 3 hours. Slow and steady wins the race!

The next part of the route might be my favourite. It featured one of the steepest climbs (we mostly pushed) with some real quick altitude gain to a place where you really feel alone. High mountain pastures weaved between giant sculptures of rock. We were briefly held up by a gang of goats, but apart from that, all the wildlife was friendly.

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We got down into a village and found an Italian bar and ordered everything on the menu to refuel before setting off on yet another climb starting off through a forest. Nature called, and as I was pulling up my bib shorts in the forest, I felt the fire burn of a wasp sting in my calf. Ouch! Shit happens…

I took an antihistamine and continued onwards. The climb was insane, with sunset casting a golden hue and light posts adorned with historical Giro d’Italia photos. I probably would have enjoyed it more if not for the allergic reaction. It seemed that wherever I scratched, red bumps would follow, making it even itchier.

We went onwards and over the pass and down the other side. It was mega steep farmer concrete (30+ %) and this filled the air with the smell of overheated brake pads.

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The best way to cool brakes however is to ride fast and let the air cool the pads. And we certainly did. On the way down we hit some gravel. It was now dark. The gravel became big chunk rock gravel and Jannes got a flat.

Life is like that, sometimes things feel a little deflated. When it does, just be thankful that you brought the premium Silca sealant and pump it back up.

We kept on riding down this crazy steep descent and finally got to the valley floor. We knew we wouldn’t make it to checkpoint 5 for a long time, and after talking it out, we agreed it probably made more sense to stay in the town and tackle the hill the next day.

Nevertheless, I turned to Jannes and said I would go on. He replied “Okay, I’m coming with you, but it’s a stupid idea.”

It turned out to be a stupid idea - we were about to face a big climb while I was running on empty with just 150 ml of water and four MAOAM sweets stashed to sustain me. Rationality quickly prevailed, we found a hotel in Timau, the last town before the mountain pass. We ate some sandwiches, showered, and slept.

**Day 05 - Tuesday:**

I woke up still feeling pretty itchy. However it was a new day and that meant more mountains with new luck. We loaded up on as much food as we could at breakfast, knowing we’d need the energy for what lay ahead.

The day would start straight off with a casual 1200 m climb.  A gruelling but stunning ascent to checkpoint 5. There were some special moments looking out over the Carnic Alps and then back to the village that we came from far down below. Moments like these hold me in awe - seeing where I’ve come from, from a distant vantage point, and being amazed at what’s achievable with a bike.

As we pushed our bikes up the gravel path, Jannes maintained a steady pace but I was moving slower and slower. My feet were starting to hurt. The views were absolutely breathtaking at least. When I got to the hut, I found my riding partner already deep in a bowl of tagliatelle. I took my shoes off and saw my feet were looking very swollen so I told Jannes that I am going to wait an hour and see how I am feeling. He nodded and we said goodbye. I watched as he headed down into the distance below.

While I rested, I finally met a lovely German rider called Valentin for the first time in person, even though I had seen his dot chasing us the last two days. He was super nice, and it was cool to finally meet and put some context to the dot. Anyhow, he headed off and after 10 minutes I was ready to go too. My feet were sore but good enough to walk on and ride on. So I hit the descent, and it hit me. What a descent. I was whizzing down some steep serpentines, perfectly weaving on the smoother bits and floating on the gravel without locking my wheels up. In hindsight this may have not been the smartest move… but do I love it.

I finally got down to the valley floor. There was a detour to the SNEAK PEAKS route because of the weather and landslides. Instead of heading back up into the mountains off-road, we would miss two checkpoints and be rerouted through the valley. I was pretty glad about this change given the state I was in.

I noticed my ankles had started to hurt more but I had a plan.

The detour would take me over the Kreuzberg Pass and into the Pustertal, leading to the town of Toblach, where I hoped to find a hostel to rest. The mountains here were incredible, and the views were stunning. I stopped at a couple of Italian bars along the way and eventually reached the pass. As I descended, I got really cold and my skin felt weird, so I ended up wearing all of my layers.

Arriving in Toblach was a relief; my feet couldn’t take much more. The hostel, a beautifully renovated historic building, was unfortunately full. Desperate, I went to the nearby hotel, where the owner made me a deal. He was very kind, and after a warm dinner, I finally headed up to my room.

When I got there I could finally assess the damage. I took my shoes off and started to peel my sock back on my right foot. I was shocked at what I was seeing. I knew my feet were swollen, but it came as a shock that they were so swollen that it looked like a balloon blistering. I had big bubbles of pus coming out of my foot. It was scary to see. I couldn’t believe this could come from a wasp sting.

Then I pulled my other sock down and saw the same problem. Oh shit. What had I done?

I googled what to do about wasp stings and swollen feet and then cooled my feet for 20 minutes in the bidet before lying in bed with my legs against the wall and my feet above my head. They looked so disgusting with the light coming through the big bubbles in the bloated skin, I couldn’t really believe they were my feet.

**Day 06 - Wednesday:** I woke up, which meant I survived. But the feet looked even worse than the night before; it was scratch o'clock. My race had finished.

I sent a picture of my feet to a friend’s whatsapp-group and they suggested it might be phytophotodermatitis. It is a skin reaction that happens when certain plant chemicals come into contact with your skin and are then exposed to strong UV light. Symptoms might not show for 24 to 48 hours. Although the blisters can be large and painful, they aren’t normally dangerous or deadly.

So after all it seemed that it wasn’t actually an allergic reaction to a wasp, just a sensitivity to an unknown plant compound plus sunlight... crazy.

I got treated, and the blisters popped and drained and my ankles bandaged up. I picked up my bike from the hotel, took the train to the end and met new and old friends as they finished the ride. Banging event!

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**Conclusion:**

To anyone who is interested in doing something like SNEAK PEAKS, but doesn’t feel ready—just go for it! Worst case, you encounter a problem you can’t fix. Remind yourself it’s just a bike ride, you’re an adult, wipe away the tears, and move on with life. Best case, you have an adventure and make some new friends!

Doubt kills more dreams than failure ever will. Start out, go at your own pace and enjoy the journey.

I’ve already shotgunned a place for next year's adventure, and based on what Rapha has up his sleeves, it’s going to be a good one!

p.s. Thanks to all the organisers, hut staff, the lovely locals, and every single person that made this event possible!

p.p.s. Thanks also to the doctor that treated me!

p.p.p.s. Thanks to my friends who helped with this article <3


Writing ✍️

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