BIKE: Most fathers struggle just to get their children to tidy their rooms. You’re riding a 470-kilometre gravel race with your eight-year-old son. How did you come up with that idea?
Benjamin Trautmann: I didn’t force him, if that’s what you’re getting at. We’ve been cycling together since he was two. In fact, we’re out and about somewhere every day: bike parks, trails, gravel roads. When he was four, we cycled the Altmühl Cycle Route: 240 kilometres, four days, camping. In the end, Max wanted to cycle back. So we cycled back. It was his decision, not mine.
BIKE: And from there, did you go straight into long-distance racing?
Benjamin: It was more of a roundabout way. My first Transalp from Garmisch at the age of five – five days. Then more and more bikepacking. Or combining cycling with climbing, navigating with a map and compass. Last year, the three of us did the Transalp with a tent; this time, his little brother came along too. The children pitched the tent, cooked, and did a lot of things for themselves. The Grit was then the first event you could really call a race. I signed us up and saw how it went.
BIKE: How did it go?
Benjamin: In the end, the odometer read 474 kilometres. The first day was just to ease into it. The second was brutal: 130 kilometres, 1,400 metres of elevation gain, finishing at one o’clock in the morning in the Czech Republic. Freezing cold, fog, headlamps. I’d brought his cycling gloves with me; Max pulled mine over his. An hour and a half from the finish, somewhere on a mountain pass in the middle of nowhere, the chain came off twice. And he just carried on riding. I’ll never forget that.
Max is sitting next to his dad; he seems a bit shy. His answers are brief: “Yes, it was fun.” Or: “Nah, I wasn’t scared at night – Dad was there, after all!” We don’t want to put him on the spot, so we carry on talking to his dad.
Adventure rather than clocking up the kilometres
BIKE: What motivates an eight-year-old to keep cycling at midnight?
Benjamin: The adventure. That’s not a cliché, but the crucial difference. If we’d cycled 130 kilometres along country roads, he’d probably have lost interest after 20 kilometres. But when you’re riding through mud, spotting a fire salamander by a stream, clambering over tree trunks and cycling through the fog with a head torch in the evening, the kilometres just seem to add up almost by themselves.
That’s exactly what makes gravel riding so appealing: there’s always something happening. A fence is lying across the track, so you climb over it. A waterwheel stands by the side of the track, so you stop. You have a look, have a laugh, then carry on. Those moments stick in your mind. The distance becomes secondary.
BIKE: What was a typical day like at The Grit?
Benjamin: Set off, explore, stop whenever it felt right. I hardly looked at my watch. Whenever Max said, ‘There’s something over there,’ we’d stop. We jumped into the water at a lake and took breaks in the woods. For us, the race was more of a backdrop than the main event. I wanted to let myself be surprised – by the route, by Max, by whatever happened. And far more happened than I’d expected.
BIKE: You’re a business psychologist. How close is what you’re describing to ‘motivation through design’ – in other words, to manipulation?
Benjamin: (laughs) Quite close, to be honest. But there’s a fundamental difference between saying, ‘We’ve got to cover 130 kilometres today,’ and saying, ‘Look, there’s a lake over there – let’s head for it.’ One creates pressure, the other curiosity.
Children immediately put up a barrier when they feel pressure. The father standing in front of a small bridge, saying, ‘Come on, you can do it!’, whilst his son refuses – he’s probably pushed too hard, too soon. You have to start off in a playful way. Don’t set a big goal straight away. Just set off and see how it goes.
BIKE: Weren’t you ever worried you might be asking too much of Max?
Benjamin: No. I’m quite good at judging that sort of thing.
BIKE: What does his mum say?
Benjamin: She says: ‘The main thing is that we’re having fun.’ She trusts my judgement. I know when it’s becoming too much. And I can tell. When Max says, ‘That’s enough for now,’ we look for the next place to stay. No obligation to cover a set distance, no need to reach a destination at any cost. So far, it hasn’t become too much.
“How far can a child go?”
BIKE: Do your mates ever ask if you’ve lost the plot?
Benjamin: Some do. Of course, it’s easy to jump to the conclusion that the father is forcing his child to do something like that. But that misses the point. It doesn’t matter whether, what it’s not what you do, but such as.
Anyone who puts their son on a heavy, cheap mountain bike and says, “80 kilometres today, no whingeing,” is likely to fail. Anyone who sets off on a decent bike, without any time pressure, and with newts and frogs by the wayside, will be surprised at how far a child can go.
And after *The Grit*, Max didn’t say, “Never again.” He said, “In September, we’re cycling through the Dolomites to Venice and then on to Croatia.” One tour, five countries. This time with his brother.
BIKE: So how does it work? Does your younger son sit up front with you on the bike?
Benjamin: Exactly. Shotgun position on the gravel bike. Max is riding himself, Julius is sitting up front with me. We’ll see how it goes: who feels like carrying on for how long, and will we actually make it to the finish? We’ll see. We never plan these sort of rides too rigidly.
BIKE: What is it about these distances that fascinates you personally?
Benjamin: I’m not from the racing scene. No competitive sport, no training plan. I mix it all up: climbing, snowboarding, cycling – as long as it’s fun. But ultra-races and adventure projects like those of Jonas Deichmann fascinate us both. Max watches the videos and his eyes light up. Fabio Wibmer is also a role model for him, because he shows just how much is possible on a bike. That really says it all.
BIKE: How ambitious are you yourself?
Benjamin: Definitely, when I’ve got a project in mind. Even more so in the past. Nowadays, as a father, my motto is more like: It’d be great if we could do it – but it’s not essential. This distinction is particularly important when it comes to children. Telling them, ‘You have to do this,’ won’t get you very far.
BIKE: Are you worried that racking up the kilometres might become an addiction, as it does for some ultra-cyclists?
Benjamin: ‘Addiction’ is a strong word. ‘Passion’ is a better description. I’m delighted that my children are out and about, getting some exercise and keen to have new experiences. That’s exactly what I enjoy myself. And I love the fact that we’re all passionate about the same things.
Especially in a generation where Year 3 pupils already have mobile phones and spend the whole day watching TikTok. You could almost call it an addiction.
BIKE: And what about the addictive aspect of sport?
Benjamin: In theory, of course, this could lead to an addiction. But if you do a variety of things – cycling, climbing and so on – and enjoy them all, I don’t see the risk as being so great. It would be a different matter if everything revolved solely around extreme ultra-projects.
Five countries, one bike
BIKE: Do you already have your next big goal in mind?
Benjamin: In September, we’re off on a trip to Croatia. And next year, we want to finish the Danube Cycle Route. We’ve already covered around 1,600 kilometres, but had to cut the trip short because of the intense heat. We’d actually intended to go as far as Istanbul. So that’s still on our to-do list.
BIKE: How difficult is it to find other children of that age who do this sort of thing?
Benjamin: It’s incredibly difficult. We live in a console generation. It’s also become rare to find parents who enjoy being outdoors themselves and set a good example. Bike parks are still an option, because you can take the shuttle and have fun straight away. But for a child to say, ‘I like riding long distances with Dad,’ doesn’t just happen out of the blue.
It grows. And the foundations are laid in the family home. When parents themselves are out and about, doing what they love, and simply take their children along with them, it works. Not as a structured activity, but as part of everyday life.
BIKE: What advice would you give to parents who want to do the same?
Benjamin: Just get started. A reasonably decent bike – not one of those heavy, cheap ones from a discount store, which put children off completely – and off into the woods. It doesn’t matter where, it doesn’t matter how far. No destination, no route, no plan.
If it’s fun, the next day will follow naturally. Perhaps a small gravel event at some point – 30 or 40 kilometres – with the family. Let’s see how it feels. The rest will fall into place.
You don’t have to see it as a race. You don’t have to rush through anything. Those who start out just for the fun of it get further than those who start out with a goal in mind.
BIKE: One last question for Max: Would you rather race or go on an adventure?
Max: Dear Adventure.
BIKE: And what about The Grit?
Max: It was both.
Benjamin: (laughs) You couldn’t put it any better than that.
What is THE GRIT?
One Oberpfalz, please. With gravel.
430 kilometres, around 5,000 metres of elevation gain and no support vehicle to save your tired legs: this self-supported gravel challenge takes you on a grand loop through the Upper Palatinate. Hidden paths, secluded roads, lakes, castles and historic towns provide the backdrop. The terrain is evenly split: roughly 50 per cent gravel, 50 per cent tarmac – both are gruelling. The start and finish are in Regensburg. The ride takes place without the usual comprehensive support. Navigation, catering and breaks are largely left to the participants. This means that THE GRIT is more akin to bikepacking and ultracycling than to the typical gravel race with feed zones and a sprint to the finish.
Key facts
- Location: Regensburg and the Upper Palatinate
- Distance: 430 kilometres
- Elevation gain: around 5,000
- Background: 50 per cent gravel, 50 per cent road
- Format: a multi-day, self-catering bikepacking challenge
- Next date: 4 to 6 June 2027
Dimitri Lehner
Editor