"Bloody, leaden, misshapen monster" - I never thought I would curse the motorised mountain bike as much as I do today. For what felt like hours, I tried to heave this monster over half-metre-high steps, squeeze through bottlenecks between two rocks, manoeuvre around hairpin bends - covered in sweat and with cramps in my fingers from holding down the push-assist. It felt like I'd shouldered the bike dozens of times, fighting my way up step by step and with burning thighs, only to realise that it would have been easier to push the bike. I almost crashed more than once because this lump of metal on my shoulders unexpectedly crashed into a rocky outcrop. In addition, the midday sun is doing a great job on this late summer's day. My helmet is pulsating with heat and anger. I stop and unload my frustration in the form of a WhatsApp to my wife Sabine in the support vehicle: "The Schlappiner Joch is a real arsehole."
"The Schlappiner Joch is a real arsehole."
It wasn't much different for my companions Stefan and Claus. Although they were in better shape and had slightly lighter packs, they were travelling a little faster than me. But when we meet up again at the top of the pass, they look no less devastated. We both agree that even here, on the second stage, the question of the purpose of our experiment arises: No, the Heckmair route makes no sense with an e-MTB. But none at all.
At 79 years old, Andi Heckmair sits on his e-MTB almost every day. Nevertheless, the Oberstdorf native can't imagine his Heckmair route on an e-bike.
"I won't see anyone doing my route with a 25-kilo e-MTB again" - this quote from Transalp pioneer Andi Heckmair stuck with Claus Fleischer, head of Bosch eBike Systems, when he was leafing through a DAV magazine just under a month ago. The man from Stuttgart had been travelling in the Alps for days with friend and team rider Stefan Schlie. Testing new products, checking out tours, mingling with bikers. To see what's going on in the scene. Twice a year, the two celebrate their "study trip", and it is not uncommon for new ideas to emerge over an after-ride beer. Like the Heckmair 2.0 project that evening: the original Transalp with an e-MTB, that would be it. Aren't the notorious pushing and carrying sections of the original Transalp feasible with modern e-MTBs, great riding skills and an above-average capacity for suffering? Does it even make sense to cross the Alps on the classic route with limited battery capacity?
Less than a month later, we are sitting with Heckmair in his favourite pizzeria in Oberstdorf, listening intently to the 79-year-old's stories. About his father, who is considered the first person to climb the north face of the Eiger. About his travels to Nepal and his trip through Bhutan, where he led a guided mountain bike tour last year. For a moment, we feel like orphans - we thought we were about to embark on one of the last adventures of modern times with our crossing of the Alps. When Heckmair tells us about the planning of his original route in 1989, the alpinist's eyes begin to sparkle. "The plan at the time was to take the most direct route possible from Oberstdorf to Lake Garda along old mule tracks. To emphasise his words, he scratches a straight line on his napkin with his fingernail. "And there's a lot in the way: the Schrofenpass right at the start and the Passo Campo on the penultimate stage. You'll suffer like dogs there."
The Heckmair 2.0 project starts punctually at eight o'clock the next morning at the Oberstdorf bike shop. We had compressed the original route with six stages covering 312 kilometres and 13,500 metres in altitude into four stages in advance. The reason for this was a bad weather front that threatened to throw a spanner in the works from day three onwards. So the only strategy was to lose no time and get through as quickly as possible. Uli Stanciu, who crossed the Alps at around the same time as Heckmair, helped us with the planning. Stanciu, founder of BIKE magazine and GPS touring specialist, had modified some of the stages with a view to modern riding technique and trail experience. However, it was essential that the key stages such as the infamous Schrofenpass and the legendary Passo Campo remained untouched.
We found ourselves at the former just over an hour after the start in Oberstdorf. Andi Heckmair didn't miss the opportunity to accompany us for the first few kilometres and only said goodbye to us shortly before the key sections. Beforehand, he taught us how to hold our bikes in the "Schrofen" position: the bike always on the left side, front wheel up and pushing hard. After a few steep sliding serpentines, we knew why. Adventurously carved into the rock, the path winds steeply uphill and through the vertical rock face. It is usually only the width of a towel, so we gratefully make use of the steel cable that has been anchored in the rock as life insurance for the hikers. In some places where erosion has washed away the path, we balance over narrow steel footbridges. While Claus and I play it safe on the rocks, Stefan, a former trial pro, plays his trump card and pedals uphill with a relaxed grin just a few centimetres from the abyss. Conclusion at the top of the pass: With a good pushing aid, the Schrofenpass is a piece of cake and is certainly easier on an e-MTB than on a classic bike - provided you're not afraid of heights.
The Schrofenpass was to remain the only real highlight of the day. The rest of the stage is rather unspectacular: forest roads, tarmac, hardly any trails. We pass the fashionable town of Lech and pedal swiftly through the Formarin Valley up to the Freiburger Hütte. Heckmair's first stage ended here 30 years ago. We, on the other hand, still have a long way to go. A nice, lonely trail down to Vorarlberg, then via Schruns, Dalaas and the Kristbergsattel to Gargellen, where our first stage ends. There we have 92 kilometres and 3250 metres of altitude in our legs. The after-ride beer tastes all the better.
The second stage awaits us with 3600 metres in altitude and three big question marks. Both the Schlappiner Joch right at the start of the route and the Scalettapass are known as pure pushing passages that put pressure on our average speed. Last but not least, the old smugglers' route over the Chaschauna Pass awaits us. We had heard that this passage, which used to be extremely steep, had only recently been improved for bikers, but we weren't sure. We had no choice but to reach Livigno that day. Because the sword of Damocles of the impending bad weather front, which according to all the weather apps is inexorably approaching, hangs over us.
Fortunately, the Schlappiner Joch should remain the only real hurdle on this day. As the kilometres increase, so does the team's mood. We recharge our batteries in the Davos station pizzeria - the Bosch power packs with the Fast Charger and our bodies with a double portion of pizzoccheri. During the planning stage, we had decided that everyone would carry a spare battery and a charger in their rucksack. By recharging during lunch and coffee breaks, we should be able to make it through the tour despite using the Turbo and E-MTB fun modes.
Ascent to the Scaletta Pass: The steep, rocky transition into the Engadin winds its way up over 1000 metres in altitude and - contrary to all fears - proves to be an ideal challenge for e-MTBs. Tight hairpin bends, scree fields and high steps demand well-dosed pedal pressure, sensitive weight shifting and a sensitive index finger on the rear brake. Every muscle is tense and the pulse is well beyond the anaerobic threshold. On the other hand, we crack the last 500 metre altitude ramp to the top of the pass in record time - it is completely rideable in trail style. The descent into the Engadin on real flow trails is no less fun. Now only the mighty Chaschauna Pass stands between us and the finish of this monster stage. But it has actually been defused. Whereas you used to have to heave your bike over the steepest alpine terrain here, you can now surf up to the top of the pass in a relaxed manner over almost 1000 metres of altitude difference on flow trails that resemble marble runs. A steep gravel track now takes you into Val Federia and from there down to Livigno on flowing forest trails. After almost four thousand metres in altitude, the exertions of the morning seem like days have passed. At the hotel bar, we celebrate the royal stage with an Aperol Sprizz. But outside the hotel it gets dark quicker than usual and an icy wind blows through the valley.
The longest day lies ahead of us. The harbingers of disaster await us on the Alpisella Pass. We started in Livigno in the most beautiful morning sunshine, but now we are heading straight for a black wall that has already spread out over Lake Cancano deep below us. We haven't even completed ten of the 118 kilometres. Fortunately, the predicted bad weather front is content with threatening gestures for a long time. We stay dry for over 40 kilometres. But in the middle of the lonely Val di Dentro, the worst comes to the worst: In just a few minutes, the light drizzle turns into a full-blown downpour. We are completely soaked in no time, and the damp cold creeps through every crack in our functional clothing. Frozen stiff, we finally reach Grosio after 1800 metres, where Sabine is waiting for us with the VW bus and a change of clothes. But the nightmare continues: 1300 metres of asphalt up to the Mortirolo Pass in the pouring rain, and for the remaining 37 kilometres to the foot of the Adamello massif it pours down on us incessantly. We reach Cevo, a small mountain village at the foot of the Adamello, cold, soaked and with nerves at the end of our tether.
The bad weather front had grown into a full-blown storm. We hear horror reports of flooding and mudslides in Lombardy on the radio. "You can forget about the Passo Campo for the next two days" - the hotel owner dashes our last hope at dinner. Without the Passo Campo, the Heckmair 2.0 project would have failed. Sit it out or cancel? We decide in favour of the former. However, we would have to forgo the Tremalzo Pass and the arrival at Lake Garda. All in all, that would cost us another whole day - unfortunately not possible, especially with Claus' schedule.
Two days later, we set off at the crack of dawn. The weather is still unsettled, but at least it seems to be staying dry. We cycle silently alongside each other. Everyone is tense about what might await us. "An ordeal that's best avoided" is the quintessence of the reports from bikers about this pass - on a classic bike, not with a heavy e-MTB and spare battery in tow. In my head cinema, "Failed at the Passo Campo" is playing, and because the Schlappiner Joch three days ago was only a foretaste of this monster, it doesn't seem so unlikely.
But things turn out quite differently. The Passo Campo turns out to be an e-MTB adventure just the way we like it. The start is an ancient dirt track through a wild fairytale forest. The trail is only rideable for me in places, but I make rapid progress thanks to my extra-powerful push assist. Claus and Stefan play at the key sections, filming each other and testing the limits of what is possible. We cross wild streams that are threateningly swollen from all the rain and scramble over the odd fallen tree. Above the tree line, a plateau opens up, along the flank of which the path - now rocky and narrow - heads south. Dark wisps of cloud waft around the top of the pass, towards which we are finally heading. Hopefully they won't bring rain or worse!
And just as the queasy feeling from this morning is about to take hold of me again, I hear an excited murmur of voices above me. I turn round the last rocky outcrop before the top of the pass and can't believe my eyes: Uli Stanciu and his wife Giovanna are standing there with a bottle of Spumante. "Congratulations on your successful mission" - the Transalp Pope is grinning ear to ear. He of all people, who declared us crazy for riding the Heckmair route on an e-MTB, didn't miss the opportunity to meet us at the top of the Passo Campo. The two of them had travelled all the way from Trento to meet us on foot from the other side. After the big hello, we empty the bottle together and tackle our last descent, or rather: the descent. Because the only one who can ride down the high alpine scree slope to Lago di Bissino is Stefan. Claus and I push and swear. But we would have done the same with the Bio-Bike.
CONCLUSION
Does the Heckmair route make sense with an E-MTB? Our answer is a clear yes and no. On the one hand, we got to know some real trail gems that make sense, especially with an e-MTB. These certainly include the Scaletta Pass from Davos to the Engadin, but also the infamous Passo Campo. Riding technique freaks will find an adventure playground here far away from the mainstream routes. However, we would definitely avoid the Vorarlberg mountain ranges. And not just because of the Schlappiner Joch, which is closed to bikers. Hardly any worthwhile trails, but a lot of prohibition signs - for us a waste of time. However, the Heckmair route in four days is a feat of strength for which you need top riding technique, good fitness, a spare battery and a support vehicle. With a slightly different route and a day more time, the Heckmair route would also be a worthwhile self-sufficient project.
