Bikepacking with E-SUVs – Four Lifelong Friends Set Out on an Adventure

Four old friends, far too much luggage, surprisingly little camping experience, and one spontaneous micro-adventure. Between unruly tents and a Labradoodle in a bike trailer, our first bikepacking trip shows one thing clearly: small adventures don’t need peak performance or perfect gear – just the right attitude.

Panniers? Backpack? Why not both? What do you really need for a night in a tent? Questions probably only asked by people who haven’t been camping in a very long time. That’s us, then. Okay, Martin has spent the past two years regularly pitching a tent in the garden behind his house and sleeping there with his grandchildren. But does that count as camping experience? Will that prepare us for the great green beyond? The other three of us had to dig deep into our memories. Our last camping experiences were somewhere between the Scouts and the 24 Hours of Le Mans. Both roughly half a century ago.

For a few years now, bikepacking has been on everyone’s lips, and now Electric Overlanding is already rolling in as the next trend. Naturally, we wanted in. Micro-adventure, here we come! But how much effort does adventure actually require these days? And how much adventure is still left in four gentlemen of around 70? Will our backs play along? And, above all: will it still be fun?

It didn’t take long to rule out an Alpine crossing – somewhere a little more down-to-earth would suit us better. We settled on riding the few kilometres to the neighbouring village, where I own a rather overgrown allotment with a meadow orchard. Each of us would bring a small tent, a sleeping bag, and a sleeping mat. Add a few cold drinks around the campfire and a morning espresso from the Bialetti, and on paper it sounded like a pretty solid plan.

The bikepacking tent comparison test currently underway at our sister magazine GRAN FONDO Cycling Magazine put us in the fortunate position of having several small bikepacking tents to choose from. Panniers? We’ve always got plenty of those in the editorial office anyway. And when it comes to bikes, the selection usually leaves nothing to be desired – especially with the E-SUV comparison review coming up. So all my friends had to bring was a sleeping mat, a sleeping bag, and a cheerful mood.

To pre-empt the well-meaning advice of my significantly younger editorial colleagues, we didn’t meet until the late afternoon. After all, we didn’t need a lecture on how to load panniers properly, or why you only need the bare essentials for one night in the great outdoors. Better to find out for ourselves, in peace, that even the bare essentials can be an astonishing amount of stuff.

We simply wanted to load the bikes quickly and head off. In reality, a good hour and a half passed before we finally got rolling.

Then the great game of Tetris began. Where do you put Jürgen’s oversized sleeping mat? And how do you pack Martin’s 40-year-old Fjällräven down sleeping bag, which has probably seen more adventures than the four of us combined? Why doesn’t every pannier fit every rack? And why do the brand-new Thule panniers first need a separate mounting system, which then, for lack of a suitable attachment, has to be secured with zip ties?

Luckily, workshop manager Thomas had already given our E-SUV bikes a thorough once-over and charged the batteries. At least from that side, there shouldn’t be any surprises. Manfred, however, had one final surprise in store. Just before departure, he swapped his step-through ebike for a sporty e-mountainbike. His reasoning? The step-through rode beautifully, but placed him in an age bracket he didn’t yet feel he belonged to.

The First Pit Stop – Hydration Break

Preaching water and drinking wine? Guilty. The planned fluid intake happened exactly as intended – just not with water. After all, we wanted to start the adventure well hydrated.

For Labradoodle Henry, the tour was a little adventure too. Instead of riding with me as usual, he got to make himself comfortable in his friend Jürgen’s trailer this time. Jürgen’s verdict after the first few kilometres: “Once the trailer is rolling, you barely notice the extra weight of the dog and luggage. You just need to brake a little earlier before corners, and take them at a lower speed.”

Along the way, we kept getting curious looks. Some passers-by were probably wondering what four gentlemen of a certain age were planning to do with quite that much luggage.

The Second Pit Stop: Beer and Pizza for Dinner

Of course, on the hottest day of the year, the weather services had announced heavy thunderstorms for the evening. Just in time for pitching the tents, the wind picked up properly. Ideal conditions, then.

In our memory, a tent consisted of two poles, one crossbar, and a sheet of fabric. Five minutes later, the thing was standing. Back then. Reality in 2026 looked slightly different. Modern lightweight tents might be impressively compact, but on the first pitch, they do ask a fair bit of patience from their owners.

Jürgen, master craftsman and the real-life MacGyver, fought bravely with his tent and repeatedly called for pitching instructions, which, naturally, were nowhere to be found. Meanwhile, Manfred sent an SOS to his wife via WhatsApp. Her reply was as pragmatic as it was demotivating: given the heat, the thunderstorm warning, and our obvious lack of practical skills, perhaps we should call off the adventure. She would even come and pick him up by car.

The only one who looked genuinely composed while pitching his tent was Martin, though his head start was a little unfair – after all, he had spent the past few years regularly camping in the garden with his grandchildren. I was this close to throwing in the towel myself. For a brief moment, the idea of simply sleeping under the open sky, no tent at all, seemed surprisingly reasonable.

In the end, the announced thunderstorm passed us by as an impressive display of sheet lightning. We sat together for quite a while, looked up at the sky, told stories from the old days, and enjoyed the luxury of simply being together for an evening, with nothing left to get done.

Henry had crawled into the tent with me and made himself comfortable much faster than I did. Because of the midsummer temperatures, I initially decided to skip the sleeping bag. A good idea – until just before three in the morning. Then it got surprisingly chilly, and I wriggled into the sleeping bag I’d considered completely unnecessary just a few hours earlier.

The next morning, we had the obligatory coffee from the Bialetti before completing our packing routine – which was noticeably more composed this time – and setting off on the slightly longer ride back to the office.

Our first micro-adventure was neither particularly spectacular nor especially sporty. We didn’t ride 100 km, conquer an Alpine pass, or have to chase away any bears. Instead, we learned that modern tents have become more complicated, panniers raise a surprising number of questions, and a cold Pinot Grigio can sometimes be just as important as that first coffee in the morning.

Conclusions

Adventure isn’t a question of age, kilometres, or perfect gear. You just have to roll out. A few good friends, a bike, a night in a tent, and the willingness to laugh at yourself – that’s all it takes. One thing’s for sure: this wasn’t our last ride together. Because comfort, like so many things in life, is mostly a question of attitude. And sometimes, a small adventure starts just a few kilometres from your own front door.

What Worked Well

Thule cooler bag for our beer

MSR Bikepacking Tent

Sleeping Mat: Exped Ultra 6.5 MW

Exped Ultra 0° Sleeping Bag

Primus Micron III Gas Stove

YETI Boomer 8 Dog Bowl

Words: Manne Schmitt Photos: Robin Schmitt