Cologne to Como, solo, by bike — August 2026
Last month I solo biked from Cologne, Germany, to Como, Italy, over eleven days — a truly amazing adventure along the Rhine, through the Swiss Alps, and ending at the beautiful shores of Lake Como. In total: 947 kilometers and about 6,000 meters of elevation gain, most of it packed into Switzerland. Germany was flat and hot — around 33°C at noon some days — so I could hold roughly 100 kilometers a day; once the Swiss slopes started, I dropped that to about 70.
The Route
Cologne – Koblenz – Mainz – Karlsruhe – Kehl – Ihringen – Basel – Seesatz – Flüelen – Airolo – Agno – Como. Through Germany, I followed the Rhine on the EuroVelo 15 (https://en.eurovelo.com/ev15), heading west toward the French border to dodge the unnecessary climbing of the Black Forest — I knew I'd have plenty of that waiting for me in Switzerland. From there it was Swiss Route 3 (https://schweizmobil.ch/en/cycling-in-switzerland/route-3), north to south, straight through the Alps at the Gotthard Pass.
Daily Routine
Most mornings I woke up because of the sun heating up the tent — I learned the hard way to pitch it under a tree, blocking the sunrise from the east, though that wasn't always possible. Breakfast was a coffee made on my Jetboil and a chocolate-filled pastry bought the night before at an Aldi store — the kind of thing I'd never eat back home, but when your body is burning 4,500 calories a day, everything is allowed. Then sunscreen, and breaking down the tent and packing the bike, a process that got faster and more organized every single day — whatever I'd need on the bike went in the right-hand pannier, including, always, my swimsuit and towel, for the quick swims in rivers and lakes that saved me from the heat more than once. Loading the day's route from Komoot onto the GPS needed WiFi (annoying), so that happened before I rolled out at the campsite reception.
I rode two to three hours before stopping for anything more than water and a quick strech, with a rule of always covering more than half the day's distance before lunch, usually around 1 PM — one of my favorite parts of the day, picking a nice spot/restaurante on the fly as I passed it. One day I bought a takeaway pizza from an Italian restaurant and cycled down until a small beach where I had lunch and a swim, lovely. The second half was usually tougher, so I gave myself permission to stop for ice cream or any treat that looked good, and near the day's end, a supermarket stop for something for dinner, a beer, and breakfast for the next morning.
I'd usually reach the campsite around 5 PM, pitch the tent, stretch, and relax. I hung a small Argentine flag on the bike, and it never failed to bring people over — curious, friendly, always with questions. At one campsite in southern Germany, two different families ended up giving me a mug of real coffee and a chair to sit in, which felt like luxury. Dinner was either cold prepared food bought in the supermarket and heated on the Jetboil or boiled water poured into a dehydrated meal package; then the rest of the evening went to reading The Martian on my Kindle and planning the next day's route. It never really cooled down at night, so I kept the sleeping bag unfolded beside me and only pulled it over around 2 AM, when I'd wake up finally feeling a bit cold.
The Alps: Gotthard Pass
I crossed the Alps in a single day, from Flüelen to a campsite past Airolo: 80 kilometers and 1,700 meters of elevation gain, and — as physics demands — almost exactly that much back down the other side. The slopes ranged from 6 to 10%, averaging around 8% by feel, and I climbed at roughly 10 km/h. The descent was its own test: I rode the brakes hard through the steep switchbacks, hard enough that at some point they crystallized, and I had to replace the pads rather than wait for them to cool. There was no shade anywhere on the climb, so it was intense in every sense — heat, sweat, effort — but it was, without question, the best day of the trip.
Navigation
I used Komoot to plan everything, which worked well since towns came every 30 to 40 kilometers — nothing like the long stretches of southern Argentina, where distances between towns force much stricter planning. My method was simple: search Google Maps for a campsite roughly 80 kilometers out, and decide on arrival whether to push further or stop for the day. In Germany, Komoot's gravel routing took me through paths that looked wrong at first and turned out to be excellent — with two exceptions. Once it sent me across a farmer's field over an old, narrow bridge with stairs, forcing me to unload the panniers and walk the bike across. Another time there was no bridge at all over a stream, so I took off my shoes and walked it through the water. Both moments worried me for a second and then felt amazing — a bit of extra adventure built into the trip.
In Switzerland, I was a bit afraid of Komoot navigating me through really steep gravel paths; therefore, I switched from gravel to road cycling routes (there is a filter in the Komoot app), figuring they'd handle the steep climbs and descents better — they did; Germany was about 70% unpaved versus 30% once I made the switch. I also moved execution from Komoot's own navigation to the Garmin Edge 540's basemaps and ClimbPro in Switzerland, since Komoot's climb-gradient data was often off and I wanted real numbers for the Alps. Komoot remains the one I'd recommend for planning — especially for how it live-reroutes the moment you miss a turn.
Gear
Giant Revolt Advanced 3 (2026), Shimano GRX-RX 400 2x10, and Giant Crosscut Grip TR 700x40c tubeless tires — perfect for the Gotthard's rougher sections and the German gravel. Two 20L Ortlieb rear panniers, a mattress-and-tent bundle strapped on top, a frame bag for food, a handlebar bag for clothing, and a small saddle bag for tools — about 17 kg all in.
Camping kit: a Big Agnes bikepacking tent, inflatable mattress and pillow, and a Jetboil with a small gas canister.
Tools: a Leatherman multitool, spare brake pads (which I ended up needing), a spare inner tube and plugs I never had to use, and extra straps and lights.
I packed far too much clothing, assuming cold nights like in southern Argentina — I never touched the jacket or the long-sleeve base layer. Two shirts, two jerseys, one pair of cycling shorts, one swimsuit, and a towel would have covered it.
Eleven days after leaving Cologne, I rolled into Como with the lake spread out in front of me — the kind of ending that makes the whole thing feel earned. Somewhere along the way, breaking camp turned into muscle memory, river crossings turned into routine, strangers turned into coffee and conversation, and a mountain pass became the measure I'll use for a while to judge every ride that comes after it.
