The top of the Nufenen Pass the culmination of a week-long adventure. 50 women riding 800 leg-burning kilometres across the Alps. They started the week as strangers, yet nobody is left behind, as cheers and applause ring out across the valley. Its exactly as we hoped, yet better than we imagined.A week earlier, on Friday evening, 50 women set off together from Munich to ride the 800 kilometres and 10,000 vertical metres across the Alps to Lausanne. They come from all over Europe and beyond, with eight travelling from the US and two from Australia. Most of them have never met before. Some are fast road riders who would never normally dream of strapping bags to their bikes, never mind days worth of luggage. Others can pitch a tent in the dark and rustle up dinner from three ingredients, but wouldnt necessarily describe themselves as particularly quick on two wheels. Some race, others are here for the adventure. For a few, its their first time camping at all.Thats exactly how it should be.The first night delivers an immediate reality check. It rains for hours. By morning, the tents are soaked on the outside, shoes are damp, and the ground around camp has turned to mush. One way or another, everything gets hastily packed up and strapped back onto the bikes. Its not exactly the most romantic introduction to bikepacking, but a very honest one.For Natalie, theres more than one new experience here. We first got to know her at the Migration Gravel Race, where she proved just how strong a gravel rider she is. She now lives in Mallorca, and shes no less formidable on a road bike. Holding her wheel takes some serious effort. Until now, though, she had never slept in a tent. So, naturally, her first taste of camping comes with relentless rain, wet shoes and a thoroughly soaked tent.Why We Werent Looking for the 50 Fastest RidersSome time earlier, while planning the GRL PCK Rally, one thing quickly became clear: places wouldnt be allocated on a first come, first served basis. We didnt want to reward whoever happened to open the registration link fastest. We certainly didnt want to build a homogenous group where everyone had the same skills and experience.So we decided to use a ballot.We deliberately looked for a mix: strong riders with no bikepacking experience, seasoned bikepackers and camping pros, gravel newcomers, and women for whom the very idea of getting back onto a fully loaded bike every morning for seven days straight was already well outside their comfort zone.A great group isnt one where everyone rides at the same pace. Its one where nobody feels they have to keep up with everyone else. That becomes clear after just a few days. The groups are constantly changing. In the morning, you might set off with riders youd barely spoken to the night before. Faster riders wait for those further back. Before long, women with completely different relationships with cycling find themselves riding side by side: road, racing, gravel, bikepacking, performance or simply adventure. And its these differences that lead to some of the strongest connections of the week. At first, cycling is the only thing everyone has in common. By the end, its just one of many.For Vivien, too, it quickly becomes clear that riding a lot and spending seven days crossing the Alps with luggage are two very different disciplines. The route is unfamiliar, the bike is heavier than usual and, once the gravel ramps get properly steep, fitness only takes you so far. That is exactly the point. None of us should have to prove how strong we are here. But everyone should get the chance to discover what they can still find in themselves when things get really tough.Its Supposed to Hurt. A Little, at Least.At the same time, we dont want the Rally to turn into nothing more than a nice group bike ride. The route should be beautiful, but it should also push us all of us. Even the strongest riders should reach a point at least once when they start wondering who on earth came up with this bloody route. For many, that moment comes on day four, on the way to Rifugio San Lucio, between Italy and Switzerland.The climb is eleven kilometres long at an average gradient of ten per cent. The final five kilometres are on gravel, with ramps of more than twenty per cent. On a loaded bike, it begins to feel less like cycling and more like a particularly awkward form of mountaineering.There is pushing. Swearing. Laughing. Riding again. Pushing again. And that is exactly why, looking back, this climb becomes one of the most talked-about moments of the whole week.No one has to pretend any of this is easy. When even the strongest riders eventually end up pushing their bikes, everything suddenly feels a little more manageable. People help each other, wait for one another, share snacks, and start celebrating things that would have seemed completely ordinary just a few hours earlier. The challenge doesnt go away, but it feels different when you share it.Sorry, Weve Run Out of PizzaOn Monday evening, we arrive in Italy starving and discover something we had previously assumed to be physically impossible: the pizzeria has run out of pizza. In Italy. So whatever is still available ends up on the table, and everyone shares.On day five, a small group spontaneously decides not to ride back down into the valley, but to stay up on the pass and spend the night there. Dinner consists of shared packets of Yum-Yum instant noodles. For Mara, who has brought neither emergency food nor cooking equipment, that evening comes to sum up what the Rally is all about. I didnt have any emergency food or cooking gear with me. But then I was invited to stay. These women shared their pots, their stove and their ramen with me up on the mountain, even as it was getting dark and cold. I was so grateful.Its in small moments like these that the differences within the group suddenly stop mattering. Who is faster, what bike someone rides or how much bikepacking experience they have becomes irrelevant when youre sitting hungry on a mountain pass with just one packet of noodles left.Of course, self-supported doesnt mean no one helps. SRAM send two female mechanics along for the ride, covering the entire route by bike. Theyre part of the group, but theyre also there when a minor mechanical turns into something that can no longer be fixed at the roadside with a multitool and collective optimism.For Jess S., a moment on the Nufenen Pass sums up the entire week. She sets off early with full bottles, hoping to beat the heat that has taken such a toll on her over the previous few days. Slowly but surely, she and a friend make their way up the climb, encouraging each other all the way. Ill never forget the moment when I was about three quarters of the way up the climb and heard a car behind me. It was Laura and Ami in the support car, music blasting, cheering at the tops of their voices. I was close to tears. Just a few days earlier, I hadnt even been sure I would make it through the Rally at all.Once at the top, the two of them stay by the support vehicle in the cheer zone. Cowbells ring out, setting the rhythm for us to keep pedalling, while we sing, dance and laugh. Its a reminder that, in the toughest moments, you can get through almost anything if you slow things down, take it step by step and allow others to help you.Elsewhere along the route, unexpected support appears from time to time too. In 36-degree heat, Lael Wilcox and Sami Sauri suddenly appear at a secret aid station, slicing up watermelon for 50 sweaty riders. For many of us, Lael had been a role model long before we ever arrived at the Rally. Now one of the worlds greatest ultra-cyclists is standing right in front of us, handing out slices of watermelon. Later comes another surprise: Lael gets on her bike and rides the final kilometres into Lausanne with us.From 50 Bikepackers to One Huge Cheer PCKAs we approach Lausanne, the energy shifts once again. Friends and family are waiting for us, while riders including Emma Pooley and women from Team Amani join the celebrations. The next day, we meet up with more cycling communities from Switzerland, the Netherlands and elsewhere in Europe for our Cheer PCK. Suddenly, our Rally group has grown into a much bigger community of riders, friends, families and supporters. For around three quarters of the Rally participants, its their first time standing at the roadside watching the Tour de France Femmes avec Zwift.Cheering feels different after that. For seven days, weve experienced first-hand what it means to hear someone shouting our names from the roadside, especially when the last thing we want to do is ride another metre uphill. Now were on the other side of the barriers. Its loud. Very loud.People from different communities, countries and corners of cycling stand side by side, cheering themselves hoarse. After a week of encouraging each other over mountains, were now cheering on the best riders in the world. For us, it brings the whole experience full circle.What Stays With You After 800 KilometresPerhaps the best moments come afterwards. When messages start popping up on our phones. When we see women who didnt know each other before the Rally already planning their next bikepacking trip together. Some meet up for hikes. Others visit each other in their home towns. Phone numbers exchanged somewhere on the road between Munich and Lausanne turn into friendships.One message from two participants stays with us in particular. They write that the Rally gave them more than just memories. It gave them friendships, new confidence, bigger ambitions and the belief that theyre capable of more than they had ever thought.Perhaps thats the part you simply cant plan for.We could plan the route. We could choose 50 women, find campsites, bring sponsors on board, and decide where we wanted to nudge them a little beyond their comfort zones. We could even make sure their names were written on the road at the top of the Nufenen Pass. But we couldnt plan who would end up riding alongside whom. Somewhere along the way, it stopped being about covering 800 kilometres from Munich to Lausanne. It became about who suddenly appeared beside you on the road, who waited for you at the top of the pass and who, afterwards, asked: What are we doing next?Der Beitrag 50 Women, 800 Kilometres and No Pizza: What Happens when Strangers Ride Across the Alps Together? erschien zuerst auf GRAN FONDO Cycling Magazine.