Project NorthCape4000
The NorthCape4000 has been on my calendar for months. July 30th, NorthCape4000 start Berlin. I’ll be there. Here’s everything I currently know about what that looks like.
Getting to Berlin: The journey before the journey
Getting myself and my bike from Maribor to Berlin is the logistics problem I had to solve before any of the 4,000km planning could start — because arriving in Berlin with a damaged bike, in the wrong state, after a chaotic travel day is not how I want the next four weeks to begin.
My plan:
I’m traveling to Berlin in the days before the July 30th start, not the day of. This gives me a buffer — for re-assembling and checking the bike, sorting any small issues that emerged in transit, sleeping a real night in a real bed, eating actual food calmly, and arriving at the start line feeling as rested and prepared as someone about to attempt an unsupported 4,000km race can reasonably feel.
The bike travels disassembled in a proper bike bag — wheels off, handlebars rotated, pedals removed, everything padded and secured. I’ve packed and unpacked this setup multiple times in training. It takes about 40 minutes to disassemble and an hour to reassemble and check properly, which sounds like a lot until you compare it to the alternative of arriving with a bent derailleur and no time to fix it.
Why I’m getting to Berlin early:
Ultra-distance events have a way of surfacing small problems at inconvenient moments. A couple of days in the city before the start gives me space to handle those — a last bike shop visit, a missing item to source, a piece of kit that turned out not to fit correctly in the final loaded configuration. These problems are solvable with time. They’re not solvable at 7am on start day. Also, part of my lovely family lives in Berlin, so I will get additional emotional support before the start.
The Official Start: What July 30th Actually Looks Like
NorthCape4000 riders start from Italy, but intermediate starters (those riding the 3000km) start in Berlin — a rolling start, not a mass-start race situation, which means the atmosphere is more “organized group of cyclists heading somewhere” than “dramatic stadium start line.” This suits me: I’ve never been someone who needs the theatrical version of things to feel real. The moment the wheels start turning north out of Berlin is real enough.
There will be other riders around me at the start — some of whom I’ll see occasionally across the route, some of whom I’ll never see again after the first hour, because unsupported events rapidly distribute riders across a huge range of paces, sleep schedules, and route choices. The “race” aspect of this event is largely invisible — it happens across weeks, in each rider’s personal spreadsheet and decision-making, not in a visible peloton format.
The general direction from Berlin: north and northwest, through Germany and into Scandinavia, crossing into Sweeden and eventually making the crossing into Norway before turning progressively further north toward the Arctic.
A rough route and phase breakdown
I’m deliberately keeping my day-by-day plan rigid — I want a fixed but realistic plan that I can follow, but also have a plan B and C if anything goes differently.
That said, here’s the broad phase structure:
Phase 1: NorthCape4000 start Berlin, Germany The opening section — a chance to settle into the rhythm of riding, but also make the longest day’s ride so I can catch the ferryboat to Sweeden. I’m probabbly going to ride with some of the participants, but also am not counting on that. The most important thing is, to keep my speed bellow 25km/h and keep a close look at my watts, not to overdo it the first day.
Phase 2: Long roads in Sweeden The terrain shifts here — flatter in Sweeden, but the distance starts accumulating and the cumulative fatigue becomes a real factor. Nutrition and sleep management become daily disciplines rather than occasional considerations.
Phase 3: Norway and the push north This is where the route gets harder, the scenery gets dramatically more intense, and the logistics get more complex — towns become scarcer, weather becomes more variable, and the fjords add genuine climbing to what’s already a significant cumulative distance. The midnight sun in the far north means daylight is almost constant, which is both a navigation advantage and a sleep-disruption challenge.
Phase 4: The far north The final stretch toward the North Cape. At this point, the physical distance remaining is finite — which is psychologically strange after weeks of “the North Cape is somewhere north of here” — and the combination of accumulated fatigue and visible finish makes the mental management as important as it’s been at any point in the event.
What “A Day on the Route” Will Probably Look Like
Nothing too glamorous. Here’s a realistic version for NorthCape4000 start Berlin:
Morning: Wake up wherever I slept — hotel, campsite, or bivy — preferably with coffee and something with real calories in it before starting. Check the day’s forecast, check the GPS route, check the bike. Leave when I’m ready, prefferably as soon as possible. Film a video for my mum, so she knows I’m OK.
Riding: Broken into a morning block and an afternoon block with a real stop in between — food, water, a rest for the parts of my body doing the most sustained work. Navigation is largely pre-loaded on the GPS, with occasional reference to phone apps for resupply location or weather updates. Stop to take photos, because it’s beautifull.
Afternoon: The second block is almost always harder than the first, which is why the fueling during the break matters — I’m eating for the next two hours, not recovering from the last two. This is the lesson multi-day events taught me, and I expect it to matter daily on this route.
Evening: Find the night’s accommodation or campsite, which has been pre-arranged. Eat properly. Check route and plan for tomorrow. Note one line in my phone about the day. Sleep as much as I can before the next morning.
Repeat for approximately 15 days, give or take the things that can’t be predicted from a desk in Maribor.
What I’m not doing: Going with the flow
I deliberately have a day-by-day fixed itinerary for this event, for a few reasons:
Having a good realistic plan will keep me sane. I tend to panic if things are not planed ahead, and I also like that part when travelling. That said, I don’t expect it to be perfect, but I will try 
I work great under pressure. You can ask all of my previous coworkers 
Tips & Takeaways
For anyone planning a long cycling trip — supported or otherwise:
Arrive before the start date. For any multi-day event, build a travel buffer between arriving and starting. Fatigue and logistics problems accumulate quickly when you skip this.
Know how to pack and unpack your bike for travel before you need to do it under stress. Practice at home. Multiple times.
Plan the trip in phases, and in days. “This week is calibration, this week is building, this is the hardest section, this is the finish push” — phase thinking is more resilient than day-by-day planning, but having the day-by-day is mandatory.
Build daily rest points into the structure deliberately, not as a concession to being tired but as a performance strategy. A proper 30-minute stop mid-day beats three hours of struggling afterward.
Flexibility is a feature, not a planning failure. The ability to adapt your daily plan to actual conditions is a skill worth developing. Rigid attachment to a pre-set schedule is good, but expect the unexcpeted at all times.
* Next: How to Follow Me — the tracker link, where I’ll be posting daily, and how you can support the journey from wherever you are.
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