Everesting Pfannenstiel: My 9,063m Cycling Challenge in Switzerland
Konrad DomanskiEveresting. Just the word sends shivers down my spine, even now. It’s the ultimate test of endurance, where you pick a single climb and repeat it until you’ve ascended the height of Mount Everest – 8,848 meters. Well, I recently ticked this epic Everesting cycling challenge off my list, and let me tell you, it's a story of grit, strategy, and a whole lot of Haribo.
This year, my big cycling goal is the Tour des Stations in Valais, Switzerland – a monster race with an Everesting-level elevation gain in a single day. To prepare for that, I decided to tackle an actual Everesting attempt 6 weeks prior, choosing a familiar foe: Pfannenstiel from Uetikon am See, a popular cycling climb near Zurich, Switzerland – the bottom of the climb only 5 min away from home.
Choosing the right climb is one of the most important tasks
The Strategic Ascent: Why Pfannenstiel?
Choosing an Everesting climb is crucial. For my attempt, the decision to go with Pfannenstiel was based on proximity to home. I know that climb well – I ride it often after work. This familiarity wasn't just about comfort; it was about efficiency and support. Being able to pop home for a warm meal (huge shoutout to my wife, Agata, for the pasta!), resupply, and even deal with potential bike issues nearby provided a significant advantage for this long-distance cycling challenge.
The chosen segment of Pfannenstiel for my Everesting attempt was 4.25 km long with an elevation gain of 330m, averaging a 7.8% gradient with short pitches over 10%. I planned my breaks, where to get water, and marked a local bakery for emergency supplies. No extensive recon needed when you know the climb well.
The Long Game: Years in the Making
The idea of Everesting wasn't new to me. It had been brewing for two years. Last summer, I got tantalizingly close, hitting 8,000m on the Tour du Mont Blanc and 8,500m around Adamello in Italy, both cut short by intense storms that caught me high in the mountains and made it dangerous to continue. These "near misses" only fueled the fire.
Last winter saw dedicated indoor Zone 2 training, and since March, I've been racking up mountain miles in the Swiss and Italian mountains, including several rides over 4,000m (often doing recon of new climbs for the scratch maps). The cautious optimism was there: I figured with the right pacing, I should be able to complete the challenge in about 18 hours. This would also give me a crucial 0.5-hour buffer for Tour des Stations – my ambition is to complete the race within the cut off time of 18.5h.
The evening before, I did my prep: bike, clothes, food, drinks. An early night at 8 pm (with a little help from melatonin) to be up by 3:30 AM. Generous breakfast and on the bike by 4:30 AM. Within a few minutes, I was at the bottom of Pfannenstiel, ready for the 26 ascents ahead. The plan was to make 2 longer breaks: after 9 and 18 reps. In between, only short stops to top up water.
26 times up and down - it's going to be repetitive.
The Ride: Highs, Lows, and Haribo Fuel
The first few reps in the dark felt easy. My strategy was rigorous pacing – just under Zone 2 threshold (190W, 150 bpm HR). But as anyone who's done long endurance cycling knows, going "slow" can feel unnatural and early on, I pushed it over that limit repeatedly. The first nine reps were the fastest, averaging 33.5 minutes each.
Fresh and motivated after the first ascent
First break after 9 reps: Home for a generous 40-minute pause and a massive bowl of pasta courtesy of Agata. I felt very strong, even telling Agata I'd try to extend to 10,000m. Oh, the optimism of fresh legs!
The next nine reps, however, brought the first cracks. Around rep 15, after 10 hours, the heat set in, monotony crept up, and my guts started protesting the sheer volume of carbs. A quick, routine water fountain break extended to 30 minutes. Eating became a chore. These reps now took an average of 35 minutes.
Second (and final planned) break after 19 reps: Back home for an hour. A shower, fresh clothes, and another attempt at pasta. I had to force it, only managing half of what I wanted. The 10,000m dream evaporated; simply completing the 8,848m by midnight was the only goal. My Garmin's stamina metric had been at 0% for some time, and the break did little to revive it.
The Mental Battle and the Rain Delay
The last third was a brutal mental and physical grind. Each rep got progressively slower: 36, 37, 38 minutes... Then, a turning point: at rep 22, Agata joined me. Having someone to ride with was a big moral boost and it lifted me up in the darkest hour. Her solidarity was crucial.
At rep 23, déjà vu from previous attempts struck – rain at the sunset. No better way to boost your morale at that point... We took shelter under a barn roof, 1,000m shy of the goal. The exhaustion was immense, waiting for the rain to stop. Fortunately, after 30 minutes, it did.
Three reps to go. Dark now, but the finish line was in sight. Rep 24 took 39 minutes. Rep 25, the hardest, dragged on for 42 minutes, my heart rate hovering only at 120 bpm, but my legs simply wouldn't push harder. The final rep, 43 minutes, was the slowest one but "mentally easy" because it was the last one.
So close but so far away. The rain about to start.
Victory and the Sweet Taste of Everest
Topping Pfannenstiel for the 26th time was pure elation. A great sense of achievement and relief – I had finally realized a long-standing goal. My Garmin showed me, I was just shy of 9'000m. Repeating a section of the climb brought the total to a much more satisfying 9,063m and 231km.
I was back home at just before midnight: 19.5 hours elapsed, 16 hours in the saddle. Completely empty. The next day was spent in horizontal recovery, battling "brain fog" and an insatiable hunger that lasted for three days. Over 10,000 kcal burned – my body truly wanted them back!
I also, unsurprisingly, became the local legend on that climb. There is a Strava segment I repeated 37 times in last 90 days - I dare anyone to take it from me :)
Back home at midnight with my supporter
Nutrition and audio: Haribo (800g! this is my secret weapon), 600g of bread, 4 bananas, 300 g of pasta, energy bars and 200g of sugar in my water. And constant audio stimulation – podcasts early on, then music when my brain just couldn't process information anymore.
Gear check: My Specialized Roubaix endurance bike with a super-low 34/36t gearing to keep legs spinning on climbs. I was minimalist with accessories and tools, relying on home breaks to charge my phone, lights, and headphones. Fortunately, not a single gear issue – testament to good bike prep and giving my chain fresh waxing the day before.
Lessons Learned
Would I do it again? "Yes and no." The spirit of pushing limits and long endurance rides is still there. But the monotony of 26 repeats on a 4.25km climb was a real challenge. I learned every single bump in the road by the end of the day. The scenery was always the same. The farmer who lives halfway up the climb started giving me awkward looks after he saw me for the 5th time! I started to recognize his individual cows.
My advice for future Everesters? Choose a longer climb (around 1000m gain) or, if you're less strict about the "single climb" rule, plan a multi-climb route with Everesting elevation. While logistically harder (no base for resupply), it promises more varied scenery and adventure. This is exactly why I first created the first Climbfinity scratch map of Switzerland – for planning long endurance cycling rides that combine multiple iconic mountain passes into a single trip.
Have you ever done Everesting? Would you like to take the challenge one day? We'd love to hear about it!
