At 02:50 most sensible people are asleep.

Andrea Foppoli is halfway up a mountain about to start climbing Everest.

Not metaphorically, and not somewhere in the Himalayas. He’s on a closed road in Valtellina, Northern Italy, starting from 1,650 metres above sea level with a 45 kg adapted mountain bike and a broken back that means he pedals with his arms.

But Andrea isn't there alone. Around him is a group of friends – us included – who have come to help him do something that, on paper, makes very little sense. Some will stay from start to finish. Others will arrive for a few hours, ride a few laps, offer encouragement, share food, and then hand over to the next group. It’s the kind of support system that forms around an idea so unreasonable that nobody wants to leave it unfinished.

The hum of the fan for the large inflatable arch marking the top of the climb drones in the background. Bike lights are flicked on, their beams cutting through the morning darkness. Here, there is a freshness to the air, even if the heat of El Niño sits heavily in the valley below. Ahead of Andrea are 11 ascents of Teglio–Prato Valentino, almost 12 hours of moving, and more than enough elevation to climb higher than Everest, just to be on the safe side.

Most people would probably ask why.

Andrea has an answer. And so do his friends. Because challenges like this are never really about the challenge.

Just under three years ago, Andrea broke his back in a cycling accident. The aftermath changed almost every part of his life. His body had changed, his choices became fewer. The idea of becoming the first person to Everest on an adapted mtb came from a desire to confront that reality – not as a denial of his circumstances, but as a refusal to let it define what was still possible.

Everesting was hyped during covid. For those who missed the buzz, the basics are you need to climb the height of Mount Everest, 8848m / 29,032 feet, on the same climb.

Repetition and patience are the foundation. Mental strength is the requirement. Whether pedalling with your arms on a 45kg Bowhead adapted MTB or any other bike, the challenge remains the same.

The chosen location was a relatively unknown climb in the Northern Italian valley of Valtellina, where Andrea has always called home. Eight kilometres of road, with just over 800 metres of elevation, meant 11 laps. With the road closed to traffic, and friends organising a bike festival around the attempt, the stage was set.

The grind could begin.

Using the assistance of the motor on his bike, Andrea has a routine in place. Descend, refuel at the bottom. Climb up at a controlled pace with a different group of supporters. Then back at the top: more fuel, change bike battery, repeat.

It becomes clear quickly that movement is where Andrea comes to life. His arms, often simply tools for daily life, become what his legs used to be – a way to suffer and feel alive.

The darkness of night slowly gives way to the low light of morning. The silhouettes of the surrounding mountains shift with the movement of the sun. The fresh air is exchanged for the heat of the day.

And slowly, fatigue arrives.

Supporters rotate in and out, taking it in turn to ride with Andrea and support him – like you imagine a family rallying around in difficult times. Except this time, everyone knows that the suffering is self-inflicted.

The top of the climb turns into a recovery zone for Andrea’s supporters – still a pit lane, but one with more deckchairs and baked goods than most professional race teams would consider acceptable. Those who rode the Knog-supported night shift with Andrea take turns to sleep wherever they can, while cakes and biscuits made by relatives are the fuel that keeps the support crew moving.

And like the mountains surrounding Prato Valentino, the formation of bodies slowly shift around the limited shade as everyone tried to escape the sun. It was only this, and the continual counting of climbs, that marks the passing of time. Everyone making up the human sundial.

Then came lap 11.

The final ascent.

The celebration and confirmation of the achievement. Andrea continued his rhythm, head lower, arms turning, the “why” forgotten, the “now” ever present. His friends and supporters all rode that lap with him.

The mountain was no longer something Andrea was climbing alone.

14:32:18 the total time, 11:57:51 in movement, for 9,351m of climbing over 201.78km. Each lap Andrea had ridden beyond what was needed, a segment which started a bit lower than he needed to, and finished a bit higher, 30 metres above the now deflated arch. Every lap he put in that extra distance, even the last one. A small detail, but one that perfectly captured the mindset behind the entire effort: refusing to stop at what’s required, or what’s expected.