A 148 km loop from Schönkirchen exit
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Low drama, high usability: tiny roads, sea air and a clear food anchor. The best part sits around Schönkirchen exit, Schönberg coast, Plön lakes, while Lütjenburg food keeps the day practical instead of turning it into a fuel or food hunt. Check the OSM map, Google preview and GPX checkpoint order before departure; they use the same waypoint sequence. Ride it with legal pull-offs, patience through villages and enough daylight to stop without rushing.
Schönkirchen is the kind of place that rarely gets a mention in guidebooks, a commuter village of about six thousand people east of Kiel, spread along a ridge of farmland a few kilometres from the Baltic. Everything you need is here: a fuel station, a bakery, a supermarket and a few places to eat. It makes a calm start or finish for a day that avoids the busy city.
What makes it useful is its position. Kiel lies just to the west, a port city of nearly a quarter of a million people that grew up around its fjord, a long narrow arm of the Baltic reaching deep into the land. The shipyards that build submarines and warships still line the shore, and ferries to Norway and Sweden leave from the quays beside the city centre in the evening, big white ships gliding out past the sailing boats. The Kiel Canal, opened in 1895 and now the busiest artificial waterway in the world by ship numbers, begins in the north of the city at Holtenau, and you can watch freighters pass through the locks.
East of Schönkirchen, the land gives way to open fields and small villages, with the Baltic never far away. Roads run straight between hedgerows, then bend sharply around a farm or a church, so it is a landscape that rewards attention and a relaxed pace. The surface is generally good, though farm traffic leaves mud on the bends in harvest season. The wind off the sea is a constant, and the clouds move fast, so a layer is useful even in summer.
In the last week of June, Kiel hosts Kieler Woche, the biggest sailing festival in the world, when the fjord fills with thousands of boats and the city fills with music, food stalls and crowds. Accommodation is scarce then, and traffic is heavy, so book early or avoid it. In quiet times, a ride through the villages and along the coast, with a stop for fresh fish at a harbour kiosk, is a fine way to spend a day.
East of Kiel the coast flattens into the Probstei, a farming district whose name recalls the provost of the convent at Preetz, who once held the land. The fields are open and treeless, the villages built along old dike lines, and the Baltic sits low behind a grass bank with a long, wide beach in front. Schönberger Strand is the main resort, a sprawl of holiday flats, campsites and ice-cream stands that fills up in July, and it has some odd local names, since nearby hamlets are called Kalifornien and Brasilien, a joke by holiday-makers of earlier generations.
The sea is the thing to come for. The Baltic is nearly tideless and brackish, so the water is calm and gentle, and it warms up quickly in the shallows. Families paddle and play, and further out sails dot the horizon, with the big ferries and cargo ships of Kiel passing in the distance. The beach is sandy with scattered stones, and amber turns up on this coast after storms, though you would need good eyes and some luck. On clear days the light is wide and pale, and the horizon is a long, clean line.
The road along the coast is flat, direct and relaxed, with the sea hidden behind the dike for most of the way and revealed in gaps by the beach car parks. It is not a road for corners, but it is a good road for letting the mind wander, and the wind off the Baltic can be brisk. On summer weekends the traffic is dense and slow, with cyclists at the sides, so aim for an early start or a weekday. In spring the rape fields flare yellow behind the dike, and in autumn the wind blows the beach clean.
Services are numerous in season, with kiosks, cafés and fish stalls along the beach, but fuel is a different matter. The nearest town of any size is Laboe, about ten kilometres off, which is a small harbour town with a huge naval memorial tower, and Kiel is not far beyond. Fill the tank in town before heading out to the coast, and take a windproof jacket. The best moment is an evening in June, when the beaches are quiet and the sunset spreads across the water.
Lütjenburg is a small town in Holstein with a market square, a church on a rise and a calm, unhurried air that makes it good for lunch. It lies a few kilometres inland from the Baltic bay of Hohwacht, in rolling farmland that was once held by great landowning families. The name carries the Low German word for little, and the place lives up to it.
The estates around it are the interesting bit. At nearby Panker, the manor house and park belong to the family of the princes of Hesse, and the estate is known for its stud of Trakehner horses, a breed that was saved after the Second World War when refugees brought surviving animals west from East Prussia. A hill near Panker called the Hessenstein, about 128 metres high, carries a lookout tower with a wide view over the countryside and the Baltic, and it counts among the higher points in this flat part of Schleswig-Holstein. On clear days it is a short climb to a view that stretches from the Bay of Kiel to Fehmarn.
The riding around Lütjenburg is some of the nicest in the area, a pattern of small hills and Knick-lined lanes where the road rises and falls and bends through fields of wheat, barley and rape. Surfaces are generally good, but farm traffic and sections of patched tarmac mean that you cannot go too fast, and there are blind brows where a tractor may be waiting. The light in the evening, slanting across the fields, is very fine. Spring brings yellow rape and a smell like honey, and autumn brings harvest dust and low sun.
For services, the town has about six thousand people, which means a couple of fuel stations, supermarkets and bakeries, and a handful of places to eat in the centre. Parking on the market is easy, and the cobbles around it are short. Order something from the baker and sit on a bench in the square, and watch the town go about its morning. A café meal, a drink and a quiet half hour are all you need before taking the lanes toward the coast at Hohwacht or inland to Plön and the lakes.
The Great Plön Lake is the largest lake in Schleswig-Holstein, a broad sheet of water of some thirty square kilometres, dotted with islands and fringed with reed and woods. It lies in the middle of the Holstein Switzerland lake district, where the retreat of the ice sheet some fifteen thousand years ago left a landscape of hollows, ridges and dozens of lakes, large and small. The town of Plön sits on a narrow neck of land between the big lake and the smaller ones, and as a result you rarely lose sight of water anywhere in it.
The lake is an important site for wildlife. Reed beds hold great crested grebes, herons and warblers, white-tailed eagles hunt over the water, and in winter large flocks of ducks and geese gather on the open areas. A research institute for evolutionary biology, run by the Max Planck Society, has been based in the town for decades, and it studies the plants and animals of the lakes, among other things. There is something pleasing about a place where scientists spend their days measuring sticklebacks and mice within sight of a castle.
On a bike, the lake roads here are some of the best in the north. They curl around bays and headlands, climb the low moraine hills and drop through beech woods, with glimpses of water and sky at every turn. The bends are smooth and open, the surface mostly good, and the traffic light enough that you can settle into a rhythm. On a still, bright morning, with mist on the water and the sun low, it is a lovely way to spend an hour. Summer weekends bring cyclists, caravans and lakeside crowds, so avoid peak afternoons if you can.
Plön is a town of about thirteen thousand, with fuel stations, supermarkets, bakeries and cafés, so there is no need to plan anything special. The lakeside promenade is a nice place for a stroll and a coffee, with views over the water and the ducks to keep you company. If you want to see more of the lake, small passenger boats run in the season, and you can rent rowing boats at several places. Be careful of the wind on the open water, which can get up quickly. Autumn, when the beeches turn gold and the reeds are tawny, may be the best season of all.
Back at Schönkirchen. That is the ride.
A good northern day: fields, bay air, lake roads and no motorway boredom.
A 168 km loop from Laboe memorial
Short, green and best before lake traffic arrives.
Fjord air, small bridges and north-coast rhythm.