Do not ride along the Swiss side of the Rhine after Basel. It might as well be the Alps. Hill after hill, dirt roads, winding freeways with fast cars and trucks. Not ideal. Today was the second hardest ride after that 100-mile’r in France. Take the German side all the way instead, it runs along the the EuroVelo15 and meets the EuroVelo6 in Schaffhausen.
It hurt’ so good
At only 66 miles, the route took me about 11 hours to complete. Along the way, there were strikingly green-blue vistas on the Rhine. I met a young French guy about 15km outside Schaffhausen. Once he realized I was about to walk my bike up what felt like hill number 6,356 he kicked it into high gear and hightailed it out of there on his way to Lake Konstanz.
Today’s ride gave me slope-induced amnesia so I was pleasantly surprised when I rode up to Europe’s largest waterfall, the Rheinfall. I hate to say this but my honest first thought was, ‘I used to walk to class every day over a gorge this big in Ithaca and they never charged $5 for admission.’ Then I remembered that I’d paid a lot more than $5 for that privilege and I happily took some free pictures.
I stayed at the Youth Hostel by Hostelling International in Schaffhausen. I was famished at check-in with no sign of a restaurant in crawling distance so I acquiesced to a $17.50 hostel dinner. Spaetzle, ratatouille, lot’s of bread, and chocolate pudding were the veg options. The lunch-lady thought I was nuts.
Let’s eat
“More spaetzle please.”
“Da?”
“Yes, please,” as I mimed a scooping gesture with my free hand.
“Guten?”
“More please,” as I took another scoop out of the air.
And so on and so forth until she finally laughed and moved onto the ratatouille. We did the same dance across the veggies and finally, my plate was more mound than round. This hostel dinner was worth every franc.
This morning I decided that I’d take the day to explore Basel. I say that “I decided” but it wasn’t really up to me. My bib shorts, awesome as Isadore is (they make truly great cycling clothes. No, they don’t pay me or give me free shit, much to my chagrin), smelled so bad that I needed to do laundry. Lucky then that I’m in Basel.
My hostel mates must’ve been thrilled
Basel is beautiful—it straddles the Rhine and has a well-preserved medieval core—but there isn’t a whole lot to do here for less than $25. It was Monday so all the museums were closed too. Such is life.
Old Basel
New Basel
Art Basel!
After some coffee and a hummus flatbread, I walked around the neighborhood before taking the tram into Marktplatz, the center of the Old Town.
Breakfast for somewhere around $1,000
From there it was on to the Rhine. I walked along the river until its footpath ended at the Tinguely Museum. I had the opportunity to do some pullups on the way there so I took it. The sun was shining and I managed to walk past all the city’s main attractions.
Pullup Challenge Basel
I can’t get to Germany soon enough. Switzerland is too expensive for my blood. I learned from the hostel barista that it is expensive in part because the government taxes income at a relatively low rate opting instead to tax consumption. In his words, “It sucks for American tourists but works for us.” Well ok then.
This pumpkin seed pretzel gets two thumbs way up
Tomorrow I’ll be out by 7:30 am aiming straight for Schaffhausen!
Looks like one of my middle school teachers found a more fitting career here in Basel
Out of the France and into the expensive: Switzerland.
What a day to be alive
I left at 8 am sharp after a sleepless night in Bart, which is, coincidentally, the same way my last trip to the Bay Area ended.
A shrewdness of teenagers was staying at the same half star hotel as me. They slammed doors, ran, screamed, set off alarms, and, I assume, did all the other things a group of apes would do too—like throw their own poop. At 1 am, I politely asked these baboons to quiet down and they did. That is until 2:30 am, at which point I catapulted out of bed, opened my door, and angrily shouted: “Shut the fuck up!!!” That did the trick.
Today the just miles melted, the weather was pleasant, the scenery varied and vibrant, and I didn’t feel a stressor in the world.
1280km down, 1570km or so to go until Budapest. Then onward to the Black Sea.
I made it to Mulhouse after what felt like 15 minutes of riding. A pretzel with a bunch of fixin’s including olives and tomatoes was the first sign that I was leaving France and inching closer toward Germany.
Heading into Mulhouse
I finished Ursula K. Le Guin’s short story The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelasover lunch. I can’t recommend it enough. It is a short, thought-provoking, fantastical meditation on utilitarianism and ethics—a parable, a commentary on society, and much more, I’m sure. It read more like a poem than a story (in the best way). Just read it. Don’t google it beforehand.
Once I was back in the saddle I listened to the Very Bad Wizards (spoiler alert: don’t click until you’ve read the story) podcast episode that discusses Omelas, which I also recommend.
Mulhouse’s square
Mulhouse has a vibrant historic quarter and nice parks. It’s the kind of place I’d like to spend a summer learning French.
Au revoir, France
Just outside of Mulhouse is where I finally learned how to sit on my bicycle. That sounds absurd. But it’s true. My seat was tilted in the wrong direction and I was forcing the wrong part of my pelvis onto it. Now no more ass pain and more power to the pedals.
Hey, Power to the Pedals. I like that one.
Today was filled with pullup challenges from Mulhouse to Basel
I quickly made it to Basel but first stopped for not one, not two, not three, but four pullup challenges.
Basel has some incredible public fitness infrastructure, not the least of which was this climbing wall:
I rode past the wall up to a basketball court where I played three games of pickup. One guy didn’t like that I was gonna play in my cycling gear but then I torched him and all was good in the world. The basketball felt great. I was rusty after not playing for 10 months and after the 66-mile ride, but I had a blast.
letsgooooo
At the hostel, a woman came into the dorm to go to sleep at 7 pm. Then a real loud guy came in talking on his cell phone. He soon introduced himself to me as Adam. He’s a substitute teacher from CA. The lady gave Adam the Evil Eye and he just ignored her. She stormed out of the room in a huff just like a child would. Adam immediately started shit-talking the lady and saying how crazy it was to expect quiet hours to start at 7 pm (he’s not wrong).
Adam and I left the hostel to grab a couple beers and dinner from a convenience store in the Basel train station. We made a b-line from there to the Rhine where we enjoyed the sunset with a thousand of our closest Swiss friends.
I split from Adam once the conversation waned to find some more food (mission accomplished with an incredible soy chunks wrap).
Soy chunk wrap action shot
As I was getting ready for bed the sleepy lady from earlier came back into the room and told me she “heard everything” to which I said, “Well then you know I didn’t say anything about you.” On her way out she said, “Just tell him that every insult is a blessing in disguise.” I laughed.
