Predominantly rain, occasionally a red bus light, mostly sun. At the end of June, a number appeared on the Bike-to-work dashboard that I read twice: 1,172 kilometers. A colleague in my team had 724, the third had 698. I had no idea I was so far ahead. But the kilometers were real.
I work for SCHOTT Pharma in St. Gallen, in the PP-T Vision Engineering group. Bike to work means there: two months, May and June, 27 colleagues, 7 teams. Together we rode 9,436 kilometers, a bike share of 77 percent. These are numbers behind which stand completely normal workdays. Alarm at half past five, shortly after eight at the office.
The route
In the morning, first along the Rhine dam. Those who know the way know: the half hour is a reward, not sport. In front of me the nature reserve, fog fields over the wet meadows, occasionally a heron. I often stopped in the morning because the light was so good that otherwise you wouldn’t have taken anything with you.
The seriousness comes in Goldach. From the shores of Lake Constance up to about 400 meters to St. Gallen at around 670 meters. Seven kilometers, 270 meters of elevation. Sounds harmless. It is not. There are ramps that clearly exceed ten percent. My e-bike sometimes stands at 7 km/h there, I pedal hard and the motor does what it can. Whoever says an e-bike is not sport has never been in summer at 25 degrees on the way from Goldach to St. Gallen.
The city
In St. Gallen, it honestly becomes strenuous. No motor helps. Cars, buses, a traffic light landscape that seems to come from another time. I estimate I ran through about 14 red lights in two months. Not out of defiance. But because the light was red for a minute for a pedestrian who never came, on a road where no one was driving. Staying in flow was the safer decision than suddenly stopping and continuing in dense traffic afterward.
Twice it got tighter. Once pushed into a bush by a bus because the driver had to avoid a traffic island and didn’t see me on the right. And once honked at because I was in the bus lane and the bike light was red, but everything was open for the bus. Such paths are one thing.
The other: after a construction site, I let a bus go ahead. The driver briefly displayed a “THANK YOU” with a smiling face on his front display. One word. But it’s enough to replace a whole week of bad traffic lights.
The Chörbli
At the back of the bike sits a self-built basket made of aluminum angles and an old furniture board. On the cockpit, two phone holders from Temu, which arrive half disassembled in two weeks and still work. On the way back, often reggae from a small speaker. A colleague once called me “Chörblifahrer” for that. Honorary prize.
The everyday life behind it
I hide nothing: getting up at 5:30 to be at work by 8 is not romantic. And the 90-minute commute home in the evening is missing somewhere. You no longer come home at seven and do something proper. You arrive at half past seven, dusty, and the wool in the saddle is no metaphor. Your butt hurts after two weeks so much that every arrival is a relief.
And yet: those were the best two months I ever had in Rheintal. Sunrises over the meadows, meeting old schoolmates on the way and chatting for half an hour like when we were twenty, the noise of the highway when you drive down from St. Gallen and just let it flow. The mind becomes empty, the legs become strong.
What counts in the end
,172 kilometers. About 20 kilometers on average per day when excluding weekends and rainy days. 1,359 kilograms of CO₂ that our company did not release into the air. A 1st place that I owe mainly to my Chörbli, the e-motor between Goldach and St. Gallen, and the friendly bus driver.
And next year again. The saddle will not have become a friend by then. The path will.
Three short excerpts
Beginning of June: Rain ride selfie. The glasses fog up, the helmet drips, still commented on.
Mid-June on the mountain: 26 km/h according to the display, 1,137 km distance counter, a car on the left, the next intersection ahead.
End of June, return journey in golden evening light. Gravel path, clear road, KTM Macina Scout.