My first ultra-distance bike ride on the Desertus Bikus

Crossing Spain by bike, between Pyrenean peaks and endless plains, is the adventure I chose for my first ultra-distance challenge.

Ultra-cycling isn’t just about numbers or kilometers; it’s a dive into the unknown. For my first big leap, I chose the Desertus Bikus, a 1200 km race with 16,000m of positive elevation, crossing Spain. Living in the Basque Country and having lived in Spain, this terrain felt like an obvious choice. I wanted to see behind the scenes, far from cities, where the wind and asphalt rule.

I’m often asked: “Why put yourself through this?” The answer is multifaceted. There’s the physical challenge, of course, but above all the joy of travel and sharing. In an event like the Desertus Bikus, you start alone against your route, but you always end up sharing a café con leche or a stretch of road with other enthusiasts. Whether aiming for pure performance or simply to finish within the 7-day limit, each participant experiences a unique inner journey, and that’s exactly what I came for.

An adventure of this scale can’t be improvised. While some rely on physical or mental coaches, I chose autonomy. My strategy? Maximize saddle time throughout the winter, with one guiding principle: enjoyment. To last the distance, desire must always outweigh obligation, in my opinion.

The goal was simple: spend as much time as possible on the bike, no matter how I felt.

• During the week: 
  During my workdays in Paris or Bayonne, I juggled between Home Trainer (or RPM) sessions and two-hour night rides to get comfortable with the dark.
  
  
• The weekend: 
  Focus on volume with long rides (100 to 200 km) varying the elevation.

The key advice: 
Nothing beats traveling on the road. I organized several micro-adventures lasting 2 to 3 days to test my gear in real conditions, get used to the weight of the loaded bike, and refine my nutrition strategy as well as my recovery rhythm. Next time, I’ll go up to 4 days for better preparation.

Ultra cycling doesn't just challenge the legs. I incorporated targeted muscle strengthening to protect my back, neck, shoulders, and arms. It's this overall core strength that helps maintain posture despite fatigue.

Finally, the essential step was the posture study. Spending two hours adjusting every setting according to your morphology and flexibility is not a luxury: it’s the guarantee to transform the machine into an extension of yourself and avoid repetitive injuries.

The atmosphere in Hasparren is electric. Between the notes of the Basque Banda and the last mechanical check-ups, the nervousness is palpable.

Midnight. The pack of 400 cyclists takes off. Quickly, the road becomes a ribbon of light. I ride with Agathe and Baptiste.

The first stroke of bad luck strikes after 35 minutes: Baptiste's derailleur cable snaps. Fortunately, I have a spare cable in my mechanic's kit. We try a rescue in Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port, but the cable head is stuck. We head back up the Ibañeta pass while almost all the participants have passed us. The 18 km climb is done to the sound of music to forget the fatigue of the days before the start, avoiding toads crossing our headlights.

After crossing the Ibañeta pass in the night fog, Spain welcomes us with green landscapes reminiscent of the English countryside. After a freezing descent and a quick repair in Pamplona, we head towards Soria. The road is long but offers wonderful surprises for the eyes.

The reality of ultra catches up with me that very evening: the last 40 kilometers to Soria are ridden under a threatening storm, alone in the dark. It is there, in fear and fatigue, that I touched my first limits. Summary of the first day: 300 km, an absolute record for me.

On the second day, waking up is brutal and the legs are heavy. After a late start and two hearty Spanish breakfasts, we check in at CP1 at Castillo de Atienza. This stone village is a haven where we share our first anecdotes with other participants. It is also where the beauty of the landscape takes on its full meaning, despite a hailstorm forcing us to take shelter in a makeshift refuge. We park the bike after 155 km, a necessary "recovery" day for what lies ahead.

On the third day, we opt for an earlier wake-up. We begin crossing the Madrid region. Here, the landscape changes drastically: long endless straight lines as far as the eye can see. The mind must take over from the legs. It is here that we meet a group of cyclists, including Michel, 66, a Belgian ultra veteran whose kindness is a true balm.

It is also the moment when a sharp pain appears in the groin, probably caused by repeated friction between the saddle and the shorts worn (from another brand). Every pedal stroke becomes a challenge against this friction. Despite this, I escape by singing at the top of my lungs and counting rabbits along the roads of Castile-La Mancha. We reach the hotel after 225 km. The physical toll is heavy: the wound is there, and it has no intention of going away.

Waking up at 4 a.m. is the hardest. Deep down, I know these kilometers will be the last. I fight the pain, my speed drops, the pleasure fades. I say goodbye to Baptiste one last time at the top of a hill, wishing him to reach CP2 that very evening.

At kilometer 714, in Ossa de Montiel, I get off the bike. The skin wound is too deep. Emotion explodes. While recording a voice message for my loved ones, I break down in tears. The adventure ends here. This is not a failure, it is a learning through the body. I have discovered my limits, tested my resilience, and I already know I will come back.

I load the bike into the rental car driven by my friend Eugénie, photographer and videographer, and head to CP2 then CP4 and the finish line to cheer on the other participants. Huge congratulations to all finishers and non-finishers alike!

To endure an ultra-cycling race without major incidents, component choice is crucial. Here are the details of my setup for this Desertus Bikus.

Despite the premature stop, I keep only the positive: the laughs and kilometers shared with Agathe and Baptiste, the kindness of cyclists and Spaniards met along the crossing, and the pride of having proudly represented Lagoped on Spanish roads. Ultra cycling is a school of humility. I already know which adjustments to try on my positioning and equipment to come back stronger.

Ready to take on the adventure?