Forest silence, lake light and a good reason to ignore the city grid.
Open this ride in the planner →
Forest silence, lake light and a good reason to ignore the city grid. Out of Bernau bei Berlin and back again: 133 km, roughly 2 h 18 in the saddle. On the way it passes Chorin monastery, Werbellinsee shoreline and Schorfheide forest roads. It keeps close to the shore for long stretches.
Bernau is the gate to the north-eastern forest, and the way to use it is to be out of Berlin before the city notices you have gone. The B2 and the A11 both start here, with the S-Bahn line running alongside, and the stations around the edge of town are where commuters and weekend riders cross paths. With almost thirty-five thousand people, Bernau has everything a rider might need: fuel, bakeries, supermarkets and a bike shop or two.
North of the town, the Barnim plateau rolls toward the lakes. Wandlitzsee and Liepnitzsee are half an hour away, and beyond them the great pine and beech forests of the Schorfheide begin. The land was shaped by glaciers, and every few kilometres the road dips into a hollow with a small lake or a stream, then climbs back to open farmland. Surfaces are generally good, and the corners are gentle, which makes for easy, relaxed riding.
Bernau has a historical side that is easy to overlook if you are in a hurry. The old town wall is remarkably intact, with a brick tower called the Pulverturm, and a museum in the old executioner's house. The town holds an annual festival in summer commemorating the legendary Hussite siege of 1432, with costumes, music and a lot of beer, which the story says played a part in the victory.
If you are heading north, the early morning is best. The traffic on the B2 builds quickly after seven, and by eight it is a steady stream of vans and commuters heading the other way. Leave before that and you will find the road clear and the light low and golden across the fields.
Fill the tank, buy a coffee and a roll, and have a look at the old wall. It takes ten minutes and tells you something about how long people have been defending this little patch of the Mark.
Few ruins in Germany are as quietly impressive as Chorin. The monastery was founded in the late thirteenth century by Cistercian monks, who moved here from a less suitable site nearby, and they built it in the red brick that is the signature of north German Gothic. The west gable is a masterpiece, a tall wall of brick with delicate tracery, blind windows and slender pinnacles, standing against the sky. The roofless church, the cloister and the remaining monastic buildings sit beside a small lake, the Amtssee, and the setting among woods and meadows feels remote even though Berlin is only an hour away.
After the Reformation, the monastery was dissolved and decayed, serving as a quarry and farm. In the nineteenth century, Karl Friedrich Schinkel and others helped to save what was left, and the ruins became a romantic landmark. Every summer the Chorin Music Summer fills the ruins with concerts, and sitting in the old church under the open sky while a quartet plays is memorable. The surrounding region is the Schorfheide-Chorin biosphere reserve, a landscape of ancient beech woods, lakes and fields, famed for its cranes, sea eagles and black storks.
For a rider, the roads around Chorin are a treat. The route from Eberswalde, about eight and a half kilometres away, climbs gently through beech forest, with the surface in generally good condition, and the lanes toward Britz and the Werbellinsee are quiet and twisting. Avenues of old trees line many stretches, and the dappled light makes it hard to read the road, so take it slowly. Wildlife is frequent, including deer and boar, and cyclists fill the roads on summer weekends. Spring and autumn are the best seasons.
Chorin village has about two and a half thousand people, a cafe near the monastery and a few small shops, but fuel is available in Eberswalde, with about forty thousand people and a full range of services. Parking by the monastery is straightforward, and the entry fee is modest. The cafe serves cake and coffee, and a walk around the lake takes half an hour. Allow time to sit in the cloister and listen to the quiet.
The Werbellinsee is a long, deep, glacial lake in the Schorfheide, about ten kilometres from end to end, and its shoreline is one of the loveliest in Brandenburg. Beech forest comes down to the edge, the water is clear and dark, and the road runs along it in places so close that you can smell the water. Joachimsthal lies at its northern end, and Eberswalde, a good-sized town of about forty-two thousand, is a short ride to the south.
The Schorfheide has been a hunting ground for centuries, first for the Hohenzollern princes, later for Nazi leaders and then for the rulers of East Germany. A hunting lodge on the lake, Hubertusstock, served as a retreat for East German officials, and its guests included international statesmen. Today the area is a UNESCO biosphere reserve, and parts of its ancient beech forest, such as the Grumsin, are listed as World Heritage. The deer have outlasted all their hunters.
For a rider, the shoreline road is a quiet pleasure, winding through the trees with occasional glimpses of the lake. The surface is mostly good, though patched in places, and the speed limit is low near the villages. Weekdays are calm, and weekends bring cyclists and families to the beaches. In summer, the water is clean and cool, and public beaches at several points allow swimming.
Fuel is not on the lake, so fill up in Eberswalde or Britz before you go. There are small restaurants and a few kiosks, and in season a smoked fish stand near the water. Carry some cash, as card payments are not always accepted in small places.
The best light is in the morning, when mist hangs on the water and the sun comes through the beeches in long rays. In autumn, the leaves turn copper and gold, and the reflection on the lake is double. It is a place to slow down.
Schorfheide is the forest that has hosted more rulers than any other in Germany. Hohenzollern electors hunted here, Hermann Göring built a vast estate called Carinhall in the woods, naming it after his first wife, and the leaders of East Germany kept their own hunting lodges, all in the same pine and beech. Carinhall was blown up in 1945 and little remains, but the forest itself is intact, and it is one of the largest continuous woodlands in the region.
The roads that run through it are long, straight, tree-lined and quiet. Pines and beeches crowd the verge, and in places the branches meet overhead. The surface is mostly good, with some patched sections, and the corners are gentle, which makes it ideal for easy, meditative riding. Cobbles show up in the villages, and sand can blow across the road near open heath. In spring and autumn, mist often lies in the hollows, and the light filtering through the trees is lovely.
Wildlife is part of the draw. Red deer are numerous, and in September and October the stags roar during the rut, a sound that carries through the forest at dusk. Wild boar, foxes and, increasingly, wolves are present, though you are far more likely to meet a deer on the road than anything else. Cranes feed in the clearings in autumn, and white-tailed eagles nest in the old trees near the lakes.
Practical matters need some thought. Villages such as Marienwerder are small and have few services. Carry water and some food, and keep a spare layer, because the forest is cooler than the open land.
Go early on a weekday, switch off the engine for a few minutes and listen. The silence is full of small sounds, and it is one of the best things about riding here.
Bernau keeps its medieval wall. Most German towns lost theirs to the nineteenth century, but here a long stretch of the brick-and-fieldstone circuit survives, with the Pulverturm, the Steintor and the grim little Hungerturm still standing, and you can walk almost the whole circle in half an hour. Legend says the wall saved the town from the Hussites in 1432, and an annual festival with costumes keeps the story alive, whatever the historians say. About thirty-five thousand people live here now, and the old centre, with its large Gothic church of St Marien, sits quietly behind a commuter-belt outer ring.
The other surprise on the edge of town is a school. In the late 1920s, the trade-union federation built a training school in the woods, designed by the Bauhaus director Hannes Meyer, a low, calm complex of glass and brick with covered walkways. UNESCO added it to the World Heritage list in 2017 as part of the Bauhaus sites, and the restored building is open for visits. Together with the old wall, it makes Bernau a smaller and more interesting stop than the S-Bahn timetable suggests.
The land around is the Barnim plateau, glacial and gently rolling, with forests of pine and oak, small lakes and the villages of Rüdnitz and Panketal in the surrounding countryside. Riding here is unhurried. The main road toward Eberswalde and the Schorfheide is smooth and quick, and the lanes off it twist through woods with patches of cobbled surface in the villages. Cyclists fill the roads at weekends, and wild boar and deer are about at dusk. A morning in early summer, with the light coming through the pines, is the best time.
Practically, Bernau has everything. Fuel stations ring the town, supermarkets and bakeries are in the centre, and several cafes sit near the market square, serving coffee, cake and, in warm weather, local ice cream. Parking near the wall is easy, and there is a bike-friendly culture, so you will see plenty of other riders. It is a fine place to finish a day on the Schorfheide and Werbellinsee roads, with the S-Bahn waiting to carry you home if the bike needs a rest.
A 140 km loop from Buchholz
A 494 km loop from Uelzen
A 133 km loop from Strausberg
A northern lake-road day with soft bends, water views and café timing.