Lead me to the gravel
8.12.2019
Translation: machine translated
A plan? I don't need one. I have a gravel bike. It takes me through the gravelled city of Zurich on the back roads.
Rough tyres meet thick tyres. It crunches and hums on this cold November morning. I've swapped my mountain bike for a gravel bike for this tour and I'm not sure where it will take me. The day greets me with early morning mist and steaming dunes as I take the first few metres under my wheels. I only know roughly where I'm going. I follow the gravel. If it looks promising on the left, I turn left. If I can escape the tarmac quicker on the right, I continue there. But I don't want to leave the city completely. Instead, I want to gravel through Zurich and feel the spirit of the times.
Trends come and go. Or they establish themselves and become mainstream, like mountain bikes. It's clear that the bike industry, like any other, has to constantly come up with something new. And that the wheel cannot be reinvented every season. But everything is becoming more and more specialised. You can fill your cellar with race, endurance and aero racing bikes, if there's still room next to the cross-country, downhill and all-mountain bikes. And then come up with the idea that less would be more.
Gravel and the city
The gravel bike fulfils this longing with the promise of almost limitless possibilities. Half road bike, half mountain bike. You can have it all, you don't have to choose. The offer is attracting and finding more and more fans, who enjoy themselves on their own or in races called "gravel grinders" on and off the road. I'm happy to join in, I like the approach. I've never really warmed to classic racing bikes.
Now I'm rolling over tarmac, climbing the Waidberg, with the city behind me and my lungs burning. I could have had them on a mountain bike, just like the whirring of the 2.10" tyres. If it wasn't for the racing handlebars with the brake levers, which I have to use quite often to get on - I would have thought I was on a hardtail MTB, where everything is a bit slimmer. Or on a racing bike with mumps. It's a good thing that a quarter of Zurich's urban area is wooded and the road is about to end. Gravel in sight.
No traffic, hardly a soul. I let the bike find its way, make intuitive decisions and fall flat on my face. Once literally, because overconfidence, a new bike, wet leaves on gravel and clipless pedals turn out to be an unfavourable combination. And more often figuratively, in terms of my choice of route. There are too many routes that promise fun in the short term and end in nothing or take revenge with steep climbs.
Nevertheless, with every minute in the saddle I understand better what makes the gravel trend so attractive. Whether tarmac, gravel or mud, roots and leaves, everything is tempting and you set yourself the limits of what is possible. The disc brakes are grippy, the riding position is comfortable and the 11-speed gears are perfectly adequate. I quickly gain confidence in the bike and quickly lose my sense of direction. After a few laps between Waid- Käfer- and Hönggerberg, where I completely lose myself, I realise that the total pleasure principle can have a disadvantage: I'm going round in circles. I need a destination.
Take me to the water, but on as much gravel as possible, please. I want to go to Lake Zurich without having to struggle through city traffic. Through the city without actually being in the city. On the best possible shortcuts. I won't be able to do it entirely without tarmac, but the variety of surfaces is what makes gravel so appealing.
I leave the mental dead end I've manoeuvred myself into, take a rough course towards the Zürichberg and end up in the past. In a forest clearing, people in their late twenties in medieval garb stand around, freezing and waiting for their turn. That's how it is in film or television. Obviously filming is about to start and someone is late. I can't wait for action. It's freezing cold and I want to keep up with the zeitgeist of the present. It'll have me back sooner than I'd like. In the form of a full blast of city traffic that I just want to get over with.
Where the gravel lives
Anyone who survives Bucheggplatz, this imposition of a roundabout cut up by tram tracks, on a bike can breathe a sigh of relief and look ahead with more confidence. On the flat, the road reveals the racing bike genes that my Rondo Ruut ST skilfully concealed in the forest. Soon I'm pedalling uphill again, on roads lined with villas towards the zoo and FIFA, towards the next edge of the forest. Here the gravel is at home. Definitely.
On reaching the top, it's not far to the Biketrail Adlisberg and other trails that bring me closer to my goal in a species-appropriate way. Although I've actually already achieved it, because I'm not looking for anything more than fun. I've already found that by straying from my usual routes. If I can still discover new perspectives after years in the city, that makes me happy.
And because it's never wrong to rediscover old paths, I take a detour through the Elefantenbachtobel, where the sun is already shining through the sparsely clad trees and making the leaves on the ground glow. Now there is not much town separating me from the lakeshore, which welcomes me with a steel-blue sky and is a worthy end to my tour. As far as I know, you can't go any further across the water, even on a gravel bike. On the winding paths through the city, I learnt one thing: gravel can be found almost everywhere, but it's not everything in life.
Michael Restin
Senior Editor
Michael.Restin@digitecgalaxus.chSimple writer, dad of two. Likes to be on the move, shimmies through everyday family life, juggles with several balls and occasionally drops something. A ball. Or a remark. Or both.
