Enduro-Packing: Nature, Friends, Bicycles, and Trails

With additional photos by Fred Leth

What could be better than that? What if all of this were combined into one trip? This question has occupied my mind for several years. The idea of combining all these positive aspects of our sport into one activity has stuck with me up until this spring. Now I sit here and write about it.

I’m Anton Wünscher, and I was joined on this trip by Frederik (Fred) Leth. We have been riding all kinds of bikes for many years and are more or less known from the top of many result sheets. As you might guess, we know each other from the many enduro and downhill races we have competed in together. However, over time, we have both had different experiences with classic bikepacking projects. With our background in the gravity disciplines, we were very excited about this project.

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What Was The Idea?

We try to combine the best of all worlds: traveling, time outdoors, time with friends, and fun on the trails. This means we need to equip our enduro bikes with luggage, plan a route with as many trails as possible, procure equipment to handle the challenges of nature, and, of course, I first needed to find a travel partner. During the planning process, everything fell into place, and we were able to check off every point on the list.

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The Route

Since we couldn’t find any comparable projects in our close circle of friends or even online and couldn’t initially estimate how far we would get with our setup each day, we planned the route in the nearby Vosges/Alsace mountains. Some areas were already familiar to us from various trips, races, and stories we heard from friends. Combining all of our knowledge, a route came together with its start in Mulhouse, leading to the French-German border in Wissembourg. In the end, it covered about 450 kilometers with around 12,000 meters of elevation—the number of trails along the way was so high that we stopped counting. We spontaneously took all the trails we discovered along the way, following the theme, “The route becomes the destination.”

Our Setup

All this was done on our everyday full-suspension mountain bikes, which were set up like this:

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Day 1 – The First Attempt

With Fred’s arrival at my place in Frankfurt, we spent the first half of the day finalizing the packing and adjusting the bikes. The plan to take the train toward Mulhouse around noon was thwarted by the fact that the bike wagon of our train wasn’t accessible from the platform. Nice work, Deutsche Bahn. We spontaneously changed our plans and ended up staying overnight at my good friend Berti’s place in Freiburg. We now had some time to test our setup and took a short ride on the local trails in the Taunus. Everything seemed to hold up, although the first impression of the bikes was, as expected, sluggish and heavy. After an ice cream and an early dinner, we took a later train and arrived in Freiburg around midnight, with only a 1.5-hour delay!

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Day 2 – Reality Check: First Climbs, Heavy Loads, and Early Lessons

The second attempt was successful. From Freiburg, we rode to the French-German border in Müllheim (Markgräflerland), had breakfast there, and then headed toward the mountains. The route initially led us through the vineyards, and we began to doubt our plan. The first uphill was tough, and we took our first break after about 50 meters of elevation gain due to exhaustion. With about 35 kilograms of system weight, we had to adjust our pace accordingly. From then on, there was an absolute ban on shifting, and we switched to the first gear on every incline as a matter of principle.

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We returned to the topic of why we were doing this and what our intention behind this attempt to travel was: to have fun and enjoy the time, regardless of how far we got or what numbers we could later brag about. Upon reaching the first summit, we faced the first trail, now with the “real” full luggage. The rocky hiking trail challenged us. We stopped regularly to process the first impressions and were torn between joy that it worked and respect for what lay ahead. For now, the joy prevailed! Briefly, because soon there was a hiss. Before I even came to a stop, I began to regret my decision to mount a light tire with EXO+ casing. I got a five-centimeter cut after only 35 kilometers, but my trust in the tire took an even bigger hit. I was more worried about whether I could enjoy the rest of the trip if the tire had only lasted two trails.

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The mood was still high, despite realising the challenge we had in front of us. But worries never solve problems, so I used a needle, thread, and a patch. In around 30 minutes, the sidewall was sewn up and patched on both sides. Some air in and a good chunk of hope that the sealant would do its part. With the end of the day in sight, we looked for a suitable spot for our first night on the Col d’Oberlauchen. We pitched our tents and didn’t keep our eyes open for long,

Day 3 – Rested Bodies, Rugged Trails

After nine hours of sleep, we missed our first proper sunrise. Our bodies needed to adjust to the new normal. The mood was good, and starting on the summit meant we could cover the first section to breakfast on 500 meters of downhill trail, just as we had imagined! The descent brought huge smiles to our faces, and with every meter, we grew bolder with the still-unfamiliar setup. However, there were still some sections with steep drops and very little room for error. The valley offered a small bakery, where we stocked up on baguette, sausage, and cheese for lunch after the usual morning pain au chocolat. We then headed toward the next summit. The path to Hoheneck briefly took us from Alsace into the Vosges for the first time.

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The journey began pleasantly, with the road leading toward Lac de Schiessrothried, where we took our first break and enjoyed a refreshing swim. The road to Gaschney continued to be easy, and we seemed to be getting used to the weight. The feeling persisted until we reached the last section, which consisted of a rocky, long, and steep hiking trail. Progress was slow. Upon reaching the top, temperatures dropped, and we were surprised to find ourselves crossing a snowfield.

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This led to the second long descent of the day, a hiking trail that took us past old caves and eventually onto an ultra-rocky section. Here, we realized for the first time that there were indeed sections that were absolutely unsuitable for enduro-packing. The next half hour consisted of puzzling and pushing, but at least the surroundings, with the nearby waterfall, were beautiful to look at. After two long descents and a long uphill, it was time to climb again. The goal was Col de la Schlucht. By the end of the second day, we had already covered about 110 kilometers and 3,200 meters of elevation gain. As surprised as we were by the numbers, the weather gave us no hope that it would continue like this.

Day 4 – Soggy Start, Serious Fun

With the wet tents packed and no village on the route for the day, we started with a meager breakfast of a soggy baguette and cheese from the previous day. The rain was initially sporadic but increased steadily until noon. On the way along the border to the Vosges, on a rocky hiking trail, we encountered a group of teenagers on their XC bikes. Defying the weather, they joined us on the following trail, undeterred by the mud and wet stones. We now rode in the rain, with about 35-kilogram bikes over fresh loam, and could hardly believe our luck. We had hoped for it but never expected to have this much fun with all the luggage. We had learned to handle the bikes and could really let them run, taking jumps and trying lines that we would usually only try when the clock was running, simply because it was so much fun!

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Still, the weather caught up with us, and we got cold. Knowing that food could become a problem today, we stopped at a hut and enjoyed some local specialties while trying to dry off and warm up. With our soggy clothes and full bellies, we continued with more trails in sight and steadily improving weather, working our way toward Saint-Marie aux Mines, an old mining town. Along the way, we passed Bikepark Lac Blanc. The sun was out again, the mood was high, and we could claim that the Tailfin setup was also suitable for the bike park, as nothing prevented us from taking all the jumps on the way down—except the very special weight distribution made it kind of slow jumping.

Day 5 – Wet Days, Warm Quiche

Another summit and another night of rain. Although it was dry in the morning, the trails in Saint-Marie aux Mines were still wet, which didn’t make the morning ride to the bakery any less fun. Full of joy for the day, we enjoyed our breakfast and restocked. With a day full of rain, we looked for accommodation on Warmshowers. The route took us through deserted forests and tiny villages. The continuous rain only affected our mood when we began to feel the first signs of cold.

The plan had been to integrate a few descents into the route in Saint-Dié, but after the first one, we changed our plans and decided to go directly to our Warmshowers host, the 70-something-year-old Philippe, a former worker at the local post office and bikepacker himself. The five-kilometer descent on asphalt was the coldest of the day. The shower, the warm food, the warm bed, and the opportunity to wash all our muddy clothes and bikes boosted our motivation again. Philippe, an extraordinary host, refused any help from us in preparing the meal, so we had no choice but to enjoy an original quiche Lorraine, tarte des myrtilles, and multiple glasses of wine. We exchanged stories of past trips and shared plans for future trips.

Day 6 – Fix, Ride, Repeat

The next morning promised more rain, so to enjoy the day, we set a daily goal and looked for a campsite. This way, we could at least rely on a warm shower. Despite the ongoing rain, the trails in Saint-Dié brought us wide smiles again, as did the prospect of more trails in Raon-L’Etape in the evening. We rode trails until the dense rain clouds made the forest too dark and our bodies so wet that they began to freeze. We reached the booked campsite just before closing time, and the very friendly owner moved her car out of the carport so we could pitch our tents under it. It felt almost like camping in the living room; the rain couldn’t harm us now, and our clothes dried overnight in the heated bathroom. During the evening bike check, Fred noticed that his front brake pads were worn out; he’d replaced the rear pads the day before. The problem: He had only packed one pair.

The solution to the problem was discovered in the evening: A bike shop in Saint-Dié, where we originated, had the right pads in stock. This meant Fred had to ride the 15 kilometers to Saint-Dié without luggage the next morning at 7 a.m. to change his pads and return the 15 kilometers to Raon-L’Etape so we could start around 9:30 a.m.

Day 7 – Pads, Puddles, and a Perfect Sunset

At 10 a.m., we were back on the route together, and the weather was improving again, which meant it was dry from above. The illusion led me to leave my rain covers in the bag and soak up all the water from the blueberries with my shoes on the first meters of trail; my wet shoes didn’t recover for the rest of the day. But today, history was on the agenda. Riding along the Maginot line, we passed several bunkers built into the rocks, which made us pensive. At the same time, they impressed with their inconspicuousness and the effort that had gone into constructing them. The day ended with one of the most beautiful sleeping spots of the entire trip. With a view to the east, right on a cliff, we enjoyed the sun, which was finally kind to us again.

Day 8 – 50% Gravel / 50% Road

The morning sun was not to be missed today. Its warmth and the prospect of dry trails in a T-shirt and shorts made us look forward to the last two days. As usual, our first stop was at the nearest bakery. We lingered there for a moment, watching the locals come and go. With our bags full of supplies, we started the longest stage of all. By the time we reached our destination, we would have covered about 85 kilometers and 1,700 meters of elevation. First, however, we rode through beautiful forests, and it was already apparent that the mountains were getting smaller. Accordingly, we went up and down more often, but the hiking trails remained fun.

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The route led through Saverne, the first time we encountered civilization in a medium-sized town. This led to one of the first conversations with passersby, which was a wonderful change! With all the coincidences that life brings, I was suddenly addressed by my name. Dana, a friend I hadn’t seen in a long time, recognized me and Fred, and we learned that she was in Saverne with her boyfriend, who was racing on the road there that weekend.

The stretch after Saverne was the most boring of the entire trip. About 40 kilometers of undulating asphalt roads lay ahead of us until we re-entered the forest. The mood sank with every kilometer, and the realization that the day would be long didn’t help. The last five kilometers were uphill, up to Wasenstein Castle, where we pitched our tent in the courtyard. The last night in the tent was celebrated with a bottle of wine, a good piece of cheese, and a bag of summit chips, looking forward to the last day with the goal of Wissembourg.

Day 9 – The Final Stretch

Sunrise at the castle, a short trail, pain au chocolat, and the day started toward the German border. With a train booked to Frankfurt from Wissembourg, our schedule was set. Today, a bunch of hiking trails and especially castles were on the agenda. The proximity to the German border was noticeable in that we were less and less welcome by hikers than we had been in the past few days. Upon arriving in Wissembourg, we took all the trails in the local trail park that our legs could handle.

Other cyclists cheered us on as we tackled the trails with our luggage, and we cheered each other on, ripping down in a train of two—it was great fun! Nevertheless, it eventually came to an end, and we rolled into town, enjoying a pizza and an Aperol in the sun, before taking the train to Frankfurt. The route was only paused, and we enjoyed two beers in a pub in front of Frankfurt’s main train station, recapping the past nine days, before riding the last 15 kilometers along the Nidda home in the dark.

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In Summary

Our journey through the Vosges and Alsace was an unforgettable adventure that challenged us both physically and mentally. Despite the adversities, such as rain and technical breakdowns, we enjoyed the beauty of nature and the joy of cycling. This journey showed us that friendship, the courage to embrace new ideas, and a love for nature can lead to great experiences and that the journey is indeed the destination. We are grateful for the memories and lessons we took from this trip. It made us want more and will not be the last!

A special thank goes to everyone making this adventure happen: Philippe, Tailfin, Nordisk, Fidlock, Tactical Foodpack, and Trickstuff