From Regensburg to the Czech Border
I first met Marco in South Korea, while he was on holiday. He was in the middle of a bicycle journey that would take him through Korea and Japan, spending two months in each country. At that time, I assumed that traveling by bicycle was reserved for people who were exceptionally fit, disciplined, and accustomed to physical exertion. Having never been particularly athletic myself, I could hardly imagine undertaking such a journey.
When I moved to Germany, one of the first priorities was to find a bicycle of my own. Rather than settle for an inexpensive new model, I decided to wait until a good second-hand bicycle appeared at a reasonable price. In early April, my patience was rewarded.
The bicycle had specifications well beyond anything my abilities could justify, a beautifully understated all-black frame, and almost no visible signs of use. It was also being sold for roughly half its original price. After meeting the seller and taking it for a brief test ride, I bought it without much hesitation. It felt rather like being a grown-up who had just bought herself a wonderful new toy.
I had been through a difficult period, and my physical strength had diminished considerably. Cycling became an unexpected way of restoring some of the energy I had lost. It engaged for more of my body than I had anticipated: not only my legs, but my arms, back, and core, giving me a full-body workout almost without my noticing. Better still, it allowed me to travel distance that had once seemed impractical without a car. Even an ordinary afternoon ride could take on the character of a small excursion. I would leave home intending to exercise and return with the satisfying feeling of having been somewhere.
With the vague hope of one day traveling by bicycle, I practiced longer rides whenever I had the chance. Then, in September, as the intense summer heat began to ease, I finally set off from home, feeling both nervous and excited.
Our ultimate goal was to ride from Regensburg to the source of the Waldnaab River near the Czech border. We began the journey knowing that we could change our plans at any time, depending on how we felt. Before getting to the first day of the trip, let me begin with the preparations.
Packing for My First Bikepacking Trip
Packing is probably the part of traveling I dread most. I tend to bring more than I need, so whenever I have to travel light, deciding what to leave behind becomes a rather serious matter. On Wednesday and Thursday, I devoted my evenings after work entirely to packing.
For this trip, I used a pair of ORTLIEB Back-Roller panniers. The bright yellow bags add a cheerful, classic touch to the bicycle. Their roll-top closures protect the contents from rain and dust, and each bag holds 20 liters, giving me 40 liters of storage in total.
Sleeping Bag and Sleeping Mat
The first items to go in were my sleeping bag and sleeping mat, shown in the upper-right corner of the illustration. They were non-negotiable for camping, but also the bulkiest things I had brought. By the time they were packed, a substantial portion of the available space had disappeared. I suspect they are close to the upper limit of what is practical for bicycle touring. If I upgrade to ultralight gear someday, I should able to save quite a bit of space.
Dressing for the Weather
September in Germany is a season of small uncertainties. The afternoons can still feel like summer, while the evenings offer an early reminder of the colder months ahead. I brought two windbreakers: a heavier teal one with a lining and a lightweight beige one that was almost translucent. The latter folded into such a small bundle that it seemed unreasonable to leave it behind.
There were also two fleece jackets, one intended for riding and the other for evenings at the campsite. The white fleece was particularly bulky, and I questioned its inclusion more than once. As it turned out, both proved useful.
I had planned to buy a proper rain jacket before leaving, but nothing I found seemed quite right. Eventually, I gave up the search and decided to rely on the windbreakers if the weather turned.
I was less willing to compromise on waterproof shoe covers. Marco had described the misery of cycling in wet shoes and socks. I decided that was one experience I could do without.
Among the clothes I packed, the merino wool-blend cycling T-shirts deserve particular mention. What impressed me most was how little odor they retained, even after hours of riding and sweating. Merino wool is valued for its ability to manage moisture and temperature, as well as its natural resistance to odor buildup. Compared with the cotton T-shirts I usually wore, the difference was noticeable enough to change my opinion of what makes good travel clothing. I packed two cycling T-shirts and one casual T-shirt for the campsite.
For trousers, I brought a pair of close-fitting cycling pants, a spare pair, and a heavier pair of sweatpants for the evenings. Three pairs of socks and three sets of underwear seemed sufficient. Anything that needed washing could be dealt with by hand along the way.
Toiletries
The most versatile item in my toiletry bag was Dr. Bronner’s Pure-Castile Liquid Soap, a concentrated soap made from plant-based oils. It can be used for washing the body, doing laundry, and a surprising number of other purposes. After sampling several scents in the shop, I chose lavender and bought the 473ml bottle. The manufacturer even suggests using it to brush your teeth, though I felt no particular need to test that claim. It can also serve as shampoo, but I find that it leaves my hair rather stiff, so a separate conditioner was necessary. The remaining essentials were modest: a quick-dry towel, toothbrush and toothpaste, a tin of Nivea Creme suitable for both face and body, and a few basic medicines in case they were needed.
Cameras, Journals, and Other Essentials
Some of the things I packed had little to do with the practical demands of cycling, but I would have found it difficult to leave them behind.
My journal, a book, and writing supplies went into a transparent pouch at the top of one pannier, where they would be easy to reach. These were the things I expected to turn to whenever we stopped long enough for the day to settle.
In small snack bags attached to the handlebars, I kept my trusty Olympus TG-830, a digital camcorder, my iPhone, and my wallet. I had imagined filming much of the journey with the camcorder. In practice, taking it out, opening the screen, recording, and putting it away again proved cumbersome, especially when we were moving frequently. Most of the footage ended up being shot on my iPhone instead.
Spare batteries, a power bank, and charging cables were gathered into a small pouch and fitted into the remaining gaps.
I also brought a folding tripod, after considerable deliberation. This turned out to be a poor decision. There was never a convenient moment to set it up. In retrospect, leaving it at home would have made the packing process considerably less complicated.
Cycling Shoes and Sneakers
For riding, I wore clip-in cycling shoes. A pair of ordinary sneakers went into the panniers for use at the campsite. I would have liked to bring slippers as well. There is something particularly appealing about putting on light, comfortable shoes after a shower, especially at the end of a long day. But another pair simply wouldn’t fit. The sneakers, being more versatile, won the argument. With that, the packing was finally complete.
This has turned into a rather detailed account of what went into my bags. I offer it less as advice than as a record of how one person prepared for her first bicycle journey.
Perhaps packing is a form of imagining the journey before it begins. Each object is chosen in anticipation of something that has yet to happen: a sudden change in weather, an unfamiliar place to sleep, a quiet moment worth recording. There is no way of knowing which of these imagined circumstances will actually arise.
For the time being, everything found its place in the bags. In the next chapter, I’ll return to the journey itself, from our departure in Regensburg to our first night at the campsite.