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August 18, 2025 – We woke up before sunrise, the air still cool and quiet. Excitement pushed away any trace of sleepiness as we double-checked our bags: helmets, water bottles, snacks, maps, and just enough clothes for a week on the road. Loading the bikes onto the car rack felt like a small ritual, the true beginning of our journey. By 8:00, we were rolling down the highway, the mountains slowly drawing nearer with every kilometer.
After nearly four hours of driving, we reached Muhr, a tiny town tucked into the Salzburg countryside. At 12:45, we parked the car, tightened the straps on our backpacks, and clipped into our pedals. The adventure had officially begun.
Our first leg took us to St. Michael im Lungau. The ride was smooth, the air filled with the earthy scent of grass and pine. By the time we stopped for lunch, the sun was high, warming the valley but leaving the peaks dusted with late-summer snow. We ate slowly, savoring the moment.
From there, it was a steady 20-kilometer ride to Tamsweg. The rhythm of pedaling, the crunch of gravel under our tires, and the distant sound of the Mur River became a kind of music. In Tamsweg, we celebrated with scoops of creamy local ice cream—cold, sweet, and the best reward after the climb.
The next stretch to Ramingstein was shorter, but filled with beauty. We rode past Mauterndorf Castle, its towers rising against the blue sky, and later the imposing Moosham Palace, whose dark history seemed to linger in its stones.
By 5:30 p.m., we finally reached Hotel Durigon. Muscles sore, spirits high, we dropped our bags and let ourselves rest. Tomorrow would test us with 77 kilometers to Judenburg, but tonight, it was enough to breathe in the alpine air and feel grateful for day one.
- Hector Pascua
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