I decided on Monday that come Wednesday I’d start biking to Copenhagen. You see, Monday was my last day of work and my Master’s degree didn’t start for a month so I had some time to kill. I had heard about a nice bike path between Berlin and Copenhagen and decided I’d give it a try. On Tuesday I went shopping for a saddle bag and some other last minute essentials and on Wednesday I hopped on the bike and started pedaling.
I rode around and through a handful of Berlin’s sights on my way to the start of the route at a leisurely pace. When I saw the first sign marking the official route the adrenaline kicked in and I upped the pace. At least until the first rain drops started to fall. It wasn’t long before I was soaked to the bone and couldn’t feel my feet or my fingers. Despite the cold my spirits were still high. I smiled from ear to ear as I zoomed past other bike trekkers who’s bikes were weighed down with heavy panniers.
As I approached Oranienburg, about 57 kilometers from home, the sun poked out from among the clouds and my stomach started to rumble so I stopped for a quick döner lunch. While I waited for my food I mapped the rest of my ride. And that’s when I realized my mistake. I had relied on someone else’s Komoot route for my trip. My issue was that their route was broken into 8 sections and I never bothered to add up the number of kilometers I'd be riding each day.
It was sitting there, soaking wet from the morning’s rain, that I realized the day’s ride would end up being more than 135 kilometers. A far cry from my previous furthest distance of 100 kilometers. But there was nothing to be done about it. I had no choice but to ring out my wet socks, tighten my shoes around my numb toes, and pedal on. As I neared the hostel I was screaming to the silent trees around me as I crested each hill, hoping it would be the day’s last.


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After checking into my room, a hot shower and a couple of cold beers changed my spirits. I draped my wet gear all around the radiators in the room and dozed off with a (pained) smile. The next morning I decided to abandon the official bike route—135 kilometers, again—for a more direct route that meandered a measly 80 kilometers through Brandenburg’s lake country and ended the day with pizza and ice cream overlooking Petersdorfer See.
That night I realized that the ferry schedule I’d seen earlier was wrong and that the ferry the next day would only come every 2 hours, and the bus after that only came every hour. So if I didn’t time it just right I’d be waiting for hours for the ferry and then the bus and get into Copenhagen very late. So the next morning I waited impatiently for the hostel’s reception to open at 8:30 and then jumped on my bike and rode for 4 hours straight. I rumbled along on paved bike paths, tiny cobbled lanes, and rocky forest roads for 100 kilometers, stopping only once to water the plants. I arrived at the ferry with 30 minutes to spare and celebrated with fish nuggets and a beer before biking on to the huge ferry with all of the other bike packers.

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After disembarking I hopped on a bus and two trains before pedaling my way through Copenhagen to my friend’s apartment where I was greeted by a hot meal and a soft bed. After a full night’s sleep I took advantage of my one day in Copenhagen by walking from sunrise to sunset on my tired legs. I hit all of the sights and ate all of the bites in 24 hours before hopping on the train for my journey back to Berlin.
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My route home included an hour of biking, a bus, three trains, and a ferry for a total of 12 hours of travel but I didn’t mind. So long as I didn’t have to bike all-out for four hours to make the ferry crossing or ride 135 kilometers in the pouring rain I was happy.
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