Dimitri Lehner
· 24.08.2026
““Do you speak Gravel?” – Does Gravel jargon still sound like a foreign language to you? No problem: with our Gravel glossary, you’ll have your vocabulary up to date in no time.
The sat-nav track promised an idyllic path; the reality is thick undergrowth as tall as a man. Sometimes it’s not even the technology’s fault, but one’s own thirst for adventure: a tempting turn-off, a narrow footpath – and suddenly you’re right in the thick of it, hacking your way through the undergrowth. As thorns dig into your calves and branches greedily grab at the spokes, the gravel bike is promptly relegated to the status of a shoulder bag. By the time the thicket gets the better of you, the ride suddenly turns into Type 2 Fun: At the moment, it’s a complete farce; in the pub this evening, it’ll be the best story of the day.
“Let’s go on an overnight trip!” This isn’t a months-long bikepacking trip, but a perfect escape from the daily grind for one or two nights. Ideally, that means sleeping under the stars, with just a sleeping bag and a sleeping mat, in places such as a castle ruin, a quarry or on a mountain summit. If you prefer something a little less rustic, opt for a guesthouse or a small country hotel. Either way, an overnight trip in summer is a must for every gravel cyclist. After all, a bit of adventure is a must.
Let me put it this way: my brother Laurin is a proper ‘sealant party animal’. On what feels like every overnight ride, he puts on his own little show: either the sealant has long since dried up in the tyre and he has to re-inflate it every half hour, swearing all the while. Or he manages to run over the very only nail within a hundred-kilometre radius, which pierces the tyre like an iron sealant sausage – only without actually sealing it. And then it begins, the sealant party: it squirts, gurgles and farts, whilst the white goo oozes out of the tyre to no avail whatsoever. A boozy affair for man and nature. With an open ending in the truest sense of the word.

Editor