The ritualistic atmosphere crumbles between the junk shed and the river. So this is it, perhaps the most sacred place that Adventure Germany has to offer. A village pub with an adjoining storage shed. Behind it, the sluggishly rolling Werra - monstrously spanned by an angular motorway bridge, the monotonous roar of traffic penetrating every crack in the valley. The zero point of the famous Rennsteig trail. Or rather its end. Depending on where you have fished the obligatory lucky stone out of the river to carry it along the 168-kilometre-long magnificent trail in keeping with tradition. From the Eisenach district of Hörschel on the Werra to Blankenstein on the Saale. Or vice versa. "Totally unspectacular here," says Sören, summarising the disparity between expectation and experience factor, while on the opposite bank a goods train rumbles through the scenery with a hell of a noise.
The Rennsteig: for hikers and mountain bikers
Germany and adventure. Two terms that don't really go together. There is hardly a square kilometre between the Baltic Sea and the Alps that is not covered in asphalt and concrete. In between, there are manageable stretches of nature that are subject to strict access regulations. All around are industrial estates, terraced housing estates, motorway rings, petrol stations and furniture stores with car parks the size of rye fields. A raging building frenzy, while mountain bikers are being labelled as environmental scourges by ever more forest laws. The fact that bikers are welcome on the Rennsteig is as pleasing as it is unusual. The Kammweg is considered a high-calibre trail for long-distance hikers. It has - it has to be said - the status of a church. However, parallel signposting for cyclists coupled with the liberal Thuringian right of way also makes it interesting for bikers. 168 kilometres promise enough space for undisturbed cranking, sweating and experiencing nature. But I can't really believe it at the moment. As a biker, I've always given hiking zones a wide berth. Not because I'm bothered by the diversity of users, but rather to prophylactically avoid any damaging discussions about perceived rights of way. Biking in a hiking paradise? In the middle of Germany? Can that go well?
"No problem, it's all legal," reassures my mate Sören, who will be accompanying me as my guide. And he should know. As a biker who lives directly on the Rennsteig, he knows every metre. Which is also the reason why the direction I want to go puts him under so much stress. From Hörschel to Blankenstein. The notorious hardcore variant. "Short, nasty bumps all the time," moans Sören theatrically.
The tradition with the lucky stones
It's just after 9 o'clock in the morning when we get ready to get ready. Fishing lucky stones out of the Werra. Shoulder our rucksacks. Then we set off. The typical hiker needs nine days to cover the 168 kilometre route. Our lucky stones, however, should fall into the Saale as early as tomorrow. An endurance sporting gluttony in suburban seclusion. Only a sleeping bag and money in the rucksack. The most comfortable way to spend a few uncomfortable days.
The start is steep. Our cranks have only turned a few times before the first climb bites hard into our legs. Anyone who rides the Rennsteig can feel it in every fibre of their being. The individual climbs are puny, but so numerous that even highly trained racers' calves can hardly cope with them in the long run. If you cycle from Blankenstein to Hörschel, the topography is gentle for a long time before demonstrating its full power on the Großer Inselsberg. If, like us, you choose the opposite route, the path up to the Inselsberg initially rears up vehemently in front of the front wheels, but then becomes less and less daunting as it progresses. But no matter how you travel round the Rennsteig, the effect is always the same: your muscles are in turmoil while the tranquillity of the forest sucks the stress out of your body. Root passages test your ability to react, only to turn into tame gravel sections around the next bend. A lively change of surface facets, gradients and path widths. The rider is flooded with exertion, joy, despair and euphoria. The poetry of the invisible. The few hikers we meet all greet us effusively. Everyday deserters, just like us.
"Oh God, I need a Coke," breathes Sören in a matte voice as we stand on the summit of the 916-metre-high Großer Inselsberg after almost three hours. He shakily tears open a bag of energy gel and greedily squeezes the contents of the "Green Apple Vitality Mix" down his throat.
"There!" he says, somewhat revitalised: "It's all downhill from here." However, his grin tells me that this statement should be met with the utmost scepticism.
"Downhill tendencies" have already left me with enough oxygen debt and muscle pain. So far we've only managed a tired 32 kilometres. If Sören's information were correct, the Rennsteig would be the longest downhill track in the world.
Sören's surname is Schmidt. Connoisseurs of the downhill scene know all about it. Twenty years ago, together with his father Harald and mother Claudia, Sören founded the legendary downhill race in Tabarz, which is now regarded as the oldest existing downhill race in Europe. Sören gave up his position as head of organisation a year ago. His bike shop leaves little time for side activities. Which is also the reason for the small crisis of form. Nevertheless, the detour to Tabarz is a must.
"The start of the original route is just round the corner," shouts Sören and lifts the chain onto the large chainring with a thirst for action. A short stretch on a main road, a gravel car park. Then your eyes only perceive the left and right as a flash of colour. Downhill used to be full throttle cranking without any significant loss of ground contact. No problem for my steel hardtail. What used to be a death-defying extreme sport is now part of every marathon. Sören crouches over the handlebars, the ideal line is programmed into his body. Root jump. Meadow slope. Then full braking.
"Here, the Jürgen Beneke memorial!" shouts Sören, now looking very excited. And then he tells the story. How superstar Jürgen Beneke jumped over a bank in the nineties instead of taking the marked combination of bends. How he chose the most unthinkable of all lines in a death-defying manner and thus won the only German championship title of his career. "That's it, the legendary bank," Sören murmurs. We stand there for a few minutes and stare in awe at this historical bike artefact. A brown wooden bench full of bird shit. What a lot there is.
The ride continues. With a galloping pulse over a marvellous gravel track to the snack bar at the "Neue Ausspanne". Continue along the soggy path towards Oberhof, where the winter sports heroes race around half-naked on roller skis. From there to the 982 metre high Beerberg and on to the memorial stone of folk musician Herbert Roth, who sang the legendary Rennsteig song. The kilometres pass by agonisingly slowly. The hours, on the other hand, fly by. Do they tend to go downhill? Quite the opposite.
"But now really! From here on, it's basically all downhill," Sören asserts. I'm just about to rejoice. But then it's already going up again. Poor legs!
Slower than the fastest on the Rennsteig run
The sun has done its day's work and is just fading photogenically between the treetops when we decide to ring in the end of the day. We have only managed 80 kilometres. Surprisingly little. Especially when you consider the winning times of the annual Rennsteig Run, Europe's largest countryside run with 14,000 participants. The record time for the infamous 72-kilometre distance is five hours and ten minutes. Sören has hardly any body tension left. With nappy pedals and the corners of his mouth parched, he cranks towards his mate Erik's gourmet inn in the nearby Frauenwald forest. The fact that today of all days is a day of rest because the water supply in the village has been cut off due to pumping station work is a real nervous breakdown for both of us. The chalkboard at the entrance seems like the finest irony: "Joy and courage make the face beautiful." What is that? A joke? Or an ingenious real-life simulation of the old Indian adage that you can't eat money? It's ten kilometres to the next pub. Does it tend to be downhill? Probably not. Improvisation is the foundation of adventure. But this is almost a surplus of survival feeling. Thirsty in Germany. Great. I'm just about to start stamping my foot angrily when restaurant owner Erik Lauterbach suddenly turns the corner and invites us to a barbecue on his property.
"I was just about to open a beer by the campfire anyway," he directs us into the garden: "Barbecue meat, drinks - everything's there!"
What a contrasting programme, it runs through me. From nightmare to dream in five seconds. First stress hormones. Now happiness hormones. The purest remmidemmi in the hormone balance.
The beer is cold. The fire is crackling. Erik keeps bringing in new delicacies. It's one of those rare 100 per cent moments that you are granted in the course of a lifetime.
"Oh, the Rennsteig," says Erik, who also offers guided bike tours alongside his job as a restaurant manager: "For me, it's one of the most beautiful routes ever."
"Wow, that's a lot of bumps," grins Sören. Two beers later, we roll on. Back into the forest. Somewhere. Into the uncomfortable darkness. For at least a hint of adventure.
Along the former inner-German border
The next morning: The back pain you get from wild camping also has its advantages. You're awake early, or still awake. Which can't hurt when you still have 80 kilometres to go, but only one more day to go. It's just after 6 a.m. when we set off on the final stage with growling stomachs. A quick breakfast at the local supermarket. Then we're back on the Rennsteig with its incessant ups and downs. The gravel crunches under the tyres.
tyres. A display board provides information about "Borstgrasrasen". An "energy trail" carries us gently along. You feel completely disconnected from everyday life, which exists right next to you like a parallel world. Why the Franconians paved kilometres of the Rennsteig remains a mystery. At the Kurfürstenstein, 25 kilometres before the finish, we cross the former inner-German border, which cuts through the traditional trail six times. An over-motivated group of pupils from the Ernst Abbe Grammar School in Jena, who are cycling the Rennsteig as a three-day school trip, subject us to a spontaneous performance test. A fifteen-year-old with braces just can't be shaken off. Sören pays for the chase with a bankruptcy of his carbohydrate stores. Fortunately, there are only just under ten kilometres to go. The trend is downhill. For real this time.
It's late afternoon when we've finished getting ready. We are standing in Blankenstein on the banks of the Saale, which rolls lazily along. Behind us is a medical centre. A discount supermarket to the left. The lucky stones plop into the water. Someone will carry them back to Hörschel at some point. For now, the adventure of everyday life awaits us again.
Information about the MTB tour on the Rennsteig
The way The Rennsteig is a ridge trail that runs 168 kilometres through the Thuringian Forest, the Thuringian Slate Mountains and the Franconian Forest. The trail is the oldest long-distance hiking trail in Germany and hosts the legendary Rennsteig Run every year. A few years ago, a Rennsteig route was signposted for bikers, which runs partly on the original hiking trail and partly parallel to it. According to the law in Thuringia, biking on the Rennsteig is legal, as confirmed by the German Mountain Bike Initiative. Nevertheless, you should avoid riding on the hiking trails at peak times. However, it is always possible to switch to the wider cycle path in sections. Important: mutual respect!
The character The constant alternation of short, steep ups and downs will wear out any thigh. The surface alternates between root trails and gravel paths. A hardtail is perfectly adequate. Enduro riders will not be happy.
Infrastructure There are countless snack stands, restaurants, hotels and guesthouses along the Rennsteig. A small rucksack and a few euros are all you need. All information: www.rennsteig.de
Tours Restaurateur Erik Lauterbach offers guided tours and also has bikes for hire and overnight accommodation. www.waldfrieden-frauenwald.de
The story of the MTB tour on the Rennsteig in Thuringia can be found below as a PDF download.
Download note: The GPS data for the 3-day tour on the Rennsteig through the Thuringian Forest is temporarily unavailable. We apologise for this and will make the data available again as soon as possible.
