It is a mystery to me why Zeus and his eleven fellow gods should have resided up here of all places. The wind is so icy over the stony summit desert of Mount Olympus that my down jacket can barely keep it out. Quite uncomfortable for such a god in sandals and a light fluttering robe. Another shiver of goose bumps rolls down my spine. The gusts have been tearing at our tent walls all night. Even my mate Michael seems to have hardly slept at all with the flapping. His puffy eyes are scanning the morning sky: not a cloud in sight. So Zeus doesn't seem to be quite so angry with us yet. According to Greek mythology, he chases unwelcome visitors from his court with thunder and lightning, and we are already pretty close to his throne.
Greece with a difference
A holiday on the beach in Greece - anyone can do that, but we certainly didn't want to. As real mountain bikers, we naturally chose a mountain. But not just any mountain, but the highest in the country, Mount Olympus. The 2918 metre high massif towers like a fortress just behind the east coast in the north of Greece. A bulwark with several peaks of almost equal height, it almost cries out to be traversed. And we are not the first bikers to answer this call. During our research, we came across the first ascent report by Stefan Etzel and Christian Smolik on the internet. The two Germans started their Olympus adventure back in 1989, and you can read between the lines of the report again and again just how much the sport of mountain biking was still in its infancy at the time. To avoid going over the handlebars on the steep, exposed sections of the descent, the pioneers simply sat on the pannier rack, for example. That's right, back then the bikes still had pannier racks and no suspension forks.
We are curious to see how the passages described will feel with today's technology: However, we are still a few metres uphill away from the Olympus descent (apart from the fact that we are riding the pioneer route from back then in the opposite direction). We don't want to take the easiest route to the summit, but the one that looks the most exciting to us on the map. We have planned two days for this, including an overnight stay in a tent. From Litochoro, we struggled up to an altitude of 2700 metres yesterday. The often deep and coarse gravel was quite exhausting. But soon the wind was blowing stronger and colder. In some gusts, we were even afraid of being swept over the ridge. To be on the safe side, I kept risking a glance at the summit to see if there wasn't a Zeus in a fluttering robe whipping lightning down on us. Fortunately, we didn't have any bulky luggage on our backs. Our camping equipment was hauled up the mountain for us by mules.
Under the Mytikas east wall
But instead of calming down overnight, the wind seems to have become even angrier by this morning. It takes us a while to stuff our tent and camping gear back into our bags. Finally, with clammy fingers, we grab our handlebars and continue the ascent. We have the Skolio summit in our sights. At 2911 metres, it is seven metres smaller than the main summit of Mytikas, but is considered completely rideable by bike. The path soon crosses the almost vertical Mytikas east face as wide as the handlebars. In principle, it's easy to roll along the path, but one careless swerve would be enough to send you plummeting from the throne of the gods straight into the realm of Hades. I was just imagining how the three-headed hellhound would tear us apart when the path suddenly became steeper. It now zigzags up the western side of the mountain. We have to dismount and shoulder the bikes. As we trudge uphill, panting, I keep looking back and grinning: I would never think of riding down here sitting on the pannier rack! They were really tough guys back then.
At the top of the Skolio, we are greeted by the summit cross in the form of an octagonal stone pillar. There is even a summit book attached to it. We leaf through it briefly to see if any other bikers have signed it, but the wind is tearing at the pages so much that we prefer to close the book again. In terms of wind and temperature, October may not be the best month for this tour - but in terms of views, it is. Who knows whether you'll have such a marvellous view in late summer. The rock face of Mytikas rises up opposite. It stands in the wind like a giant sail made of stone. Far to the west, the ridge of the Pindos Mountains breaks out of the ground. This mighty mountain range stretches 250 kilometres to the Albanian border. Lynx, wolves and bears are said to still live in its natural park forests. If you look to the east, the Aegean Sea now shimmers silvery on an infinitely distant horizon. Oh yes, the sea! It was still really warm there yesterday before the start of the tour. But now there's practically only a 3000 metre descent separating us from the beach. A little clumsy from the cold and the long walk, we get back into the saddles. The loose scree doesn't exactly help us to find our feel and rhythm, but by the time we reach the stone sails of Mytikas, our movements are fluid again. Now the riding fun really flares up again.
Dense Greek forest
Heading towards the Muses plateau, we pass the Refugio Seo, one of the four serviced huts on Mount Olympus. The stone house is very spartanly furnished, but fits in with the inhospitable lunar landscape of this mountain side. We take a seat on a worn wooden bench and order a Greek coffee. The jet-black mocha is still trickling down my gullet, but it's already giving the synapses in my head little electric shocks. Marvellous.
As we fly down through the 2000 metre mark, after all the grey rock, we dive back into the pot of colour with full force: we are greeted by a dense Greek autumn forest. We were already impressed by this mountain forest on the way up. Not least because we hadn't expected to see so much forest in Greece. We turn down the forest track and now only feel our own airstream. The air is already much warmer. It was a good thing we chose autumn for the tour. In summer, whole armies of hikers should be scurrying over the mountains. Today, however, we only meet a handful of Greek mountaineers. They only stop us because they want to take a photo with us and then send us off with a "Kalo taxidi!" - have a good trip! - on our way again.
The low sun is colouring the small choppy waves of the Aegean deep blue as we reach the deserted beach. We collect driftwood and light a campfire. Now it would be nice if Poseidon would come out of the water and hand us a fish with his trident. But that is not to be expected - Poseidon has his main residence up there on Mount Olympus, as we have now learnt.
All information about Olympus
Arrival
By plane to Thessaloniki (from Germany from 160 euros). Continue by hire car for approx. 90 kilometres to the tour starting point Litochoro.
Accommodation tip
Clean hotel directly on the village square of Litochoro with a fair price and large breakfast: www.arhontiko-aphrodite.gr
Map
"Mt Olympus", Anavasi Editions, scale 1:25,000, available on site
Organiser
German guide and luggage transport by mule: www.zeuscycling.com
General information
Greece Toursimus, www.visitgreece.gr
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