My third participation is now history. And, as every time before, it was a very welcome break from the cold German winter, with the perfect opportunity to paint the first tan lines of the new year onto my pale skin.
The event format is quickly explained. The route spans five Canary Islands, and for the fastest riders it’s all about catching the best possible ferry connections in order to arrive on La Gomera in time to start the final battle for the podium together – the so-called Audax-pace. Unlike most other ultra cycling events, riding in the draft is allowed.
This creates a great community vibe on the first islands (all of us together against the ferry), and only on the final island does it turn into a true man-against-man fight.
Lanzarote (115 km, 1,710 m elevation, 30.4 km/h)
https://www.strava.com/activities/17171257825
A fast start. A group forms quickly, and we ride at a relatively relaxed but brisk pace toward the first ferry. At the harbor there’s plenty of time to refill bottles at the supermarket before most of the field boards the ferry to Fuerteventura together.
Fuerteventura (138 km, 2,081 m elevation, 31.3 km/h)
https://www.strava.com/activities/17175474678
Alexander Caldentey (one of the main favorites) positions himself at the ferry exit so he can be the first cyclist off the boat. His tense body language suggests that he wants to go full gas on Fuerteventura to make the 17:30 ferry to Gran Canaria instead of the 20:00 one. That would put you in a very comfortable situation for the rest of the event (especially on Tenerife), with no time pressure and minimal risk of missing the fastest possible connection to La Gomera.
So I line up next to him. The ferry docks, we disembark quickly with the first passengers and immediately go full throttle. There are only two of us, but we work together perfectly, and by the end of the flat coastal section we’re already averaging over 42 km/h. Then the route turns right into the mountains and becomes rolling. We keep rotating smoothly at the front, and after some initial skepticism I start to believe we might actually make it.
But when we reach the longest climb, Alex suddenly has nothing left. He feels weak and starts getting cold—possibly signs of insufficient carbohydrate intake. He tells me to try my luck alone and leave him behind. At first I’m completely disillusioned. Alone in the wind, without the ability to rotate, I see no chance of holding the required pace, so I back off and climb slowly with him.
Only on the descent do I start calculating again and regain some hope. I push hard once more and restart the fight against the clock and the ferry. But mentally I’m no longer 100% convinced, and a strange phase begins, oscillating between euphoria (maybe making the ferry alone) and frustration (having invested so much for nothing). My power output fluctuates just as much.
One hour before the finish I have to admit that my half-hearted solo attempt has failed and that I won’t make the 17:30 ferry. I keep riding at a decent pace, but no longer truly fast. When I reach the harbor at 17:45, the ferry isn’t delayed—it has already departed.
Gran Canaria (248 km, 5,618 m elevation, 21.9 km/h)
https://www.strava.com/activities/17180598510
On Gran Canaria you have plenty of time to catch the next day’s ferry at 12:00. Still, I want enough time at the harbor before boarding to properly eat breakfast and relax a bit. So I ride with the first group of about eight riders at a steady pace into the mountains, fast but without wasting energy.
Over the next hours the group fragments somewhat, but Roman Jagodzinski, Andrejus Dolgovas and I stay together throughout the night, tackling endless climbs and, at times, very rough asphalt (that provides gravel vibes). The sunrise is stunning, bathing the mountains in glowing light, and my mood is excellent when I reach the harbor town of Agaete around 09:15.
Along the way I booked a cheap hotel via Booking, so I can check in, enjoy the breakfast buffet, and take a refreshing shower before rolling freshly energized to the ferry. On the ferry I try to catch a few minutes of sleep to be ready for Tenerife and the longest climb of the entire event—up Mount Teide.
Tenerife (144 km, 3,487 m elevation, 23.6 km/h)
https://www.strava.com/activities/17186140357
Now comes the most critical section to make the Audax pace—the fastest connection to La Gomera. On Tenerife, Mount Teide stands in your way, and you have just under 6.5 hours to reach the next ferry. To be safe, you need to average 23 km/h, which is anything but easy with almost 3,500 meters of climbing—especially after barely sleeping the previous night and already having more than 500 km and nearly 10,000 meters of elevation in your legs.
I know the route well from my 2023 and 2024 participations and quickly guide the other fast riders out of the confusing harbor area and onto the mountain roads. On the first climb our group shrinks quickly to six riders, all fully committed to doing everything possible to catch the ferry to La Gomera.
For the first 40 km to La Laguna we work together more or less as a group. Then things split up: some riders stop at a gas station to refill fluids, while others continue without stopping. I belong to the refueling faction and initially find myself alone on the climb to Teide. After a few kilometers I catch up to Andrejus. We motivate each other, take turns in the wind, and even manage to reconnect on the Teide plateau with the three riders ahead—Roman, Idriss and Alexander.
We’re all quite exhausted, but the sunset just before the descent from Teide down to Los Cristianos more than makes up for the effort. Everyone is in high spirits, knowing we’ll comfortably reach the ferry. The descent—over 2,000 meters of elevation and more than 30 km long—is brutally cold, but once we reach the harbor all the suffering is quickly forgotten, and we celebrate together.
La Gomera (107 km, 3,275 m elevation, 24 km/h)
https://www.strava.com/activities/17193145729
This year the organizers slightly adjusted the event format. Due to the late arrival on La Gomera around 21:00, riders are not allowed to start the final island loop immediately. Instead, there’s a mandatory overnight rest and a joint start at 08:00 in the morning for the fastest riders who achieved the so-called Audax pace. Other riders can arrive on the island no earlier than the first morning ferry around 10:00.
So, together with the organizer Matteo, five riders stand on the start line for the final island loop: Roman, Idriss, Alexander, Andrejus and me. We coordinated with Matteo the evening before and stripped our bikes of some equipment, as the weather forecast was stable and it was clear none of us would struggle to finish within the day.
At 8:00 we roll out together, quickly leaving San Sebastián and heading into the first long climb. We ride it entirely as a group, and even the first descent is still together. But already on the second climb, real racing begins. Alex launches an attack and significantly increases the pace. Idriss jumps on his wheel, and the three of us behind have to dig deep to close the gap at a high, steady tempo.
These kinds of attacks are not really my thing, so once the next move is neutralized I take matters into my own hands and raise the pace steadily enough that no one wants to attack anymore. Our legs are all burning from the previous two days, but thanks to the overnight recovery this feels less like ultracycling and more like racing in a stage race. Not exactly my strength—but still great fun thanks to the active racing.
Before the long descent of more than 1,000 meters back to the coast, eventual winner Roman wants to make things clear. He increases the pace so much that our group of five completely explodes, and we all suffer behind one another with small gaps. I even find myself in last position, frustration setting in. Third time at Gran Guanche, and once again no real chance for the podium…
For a moment I even consider backing off completely. But then I think about the final 1,000-meter climb and sense my opportunity to work my way back with a steady, high tempo.
At the foot of the climb I’ve already caught Andrejus. Briefly, I consider finishing the race together with him, but then I spot Alex about two minutes ahead on the mountain—and my hunting instinct kicks in again. I wish Andrejus a good ride to the finish and put as much pressure on the chain as I dare to sustain until the summit.
At first the gap to Alex actually shrinks, but then he mobilizes his final reserves and the distance grows again. The result—and my fourth place—is sealed. At the summit I even have time to take a few photos and enjoy the final long descent on perfect asphalt down to the finish.
I didn’t quite meet my expectations in terms of placing, but I’m more than satisfied with my performance and the pure racing fun on the final island. At the finish we all congratulate each other and the well-deserved community phase of the event begins. Hero stories are shared, cold drinks are consumed, and calorie stores are replenished with pizza, burgers and ice cream.
Thanks, thanks, thanks!
Many thanks to the organizing team—Matteo, Daniela and Ventura—for this wonderful opportunity at the end of January! And special thanks to Matteo for the brilliant photos, which are the perfect memento of the event. And finally, my thanks to my companions during the journey. We fought fairly in the end, but before that we had countless hours spent together as a team battling against the darkness, the altitude, the wind, and the ferries.
Jochen Böhringer - MTB & Ultracycling 