Today is set to be a scorcher: 32ºC. So I got up early at 6 am and out at 7:36 am.
Natan and I crossed paths again after I took yet another wrong turn. We rode together for 60km and stopped for lunch at a Greek restaurant along the way after a couple of closed biergartens disappointed us.
ZINC ZINC ZINC!
The campsite in Passau is on the river and is simply stunning.
I’m excited for tomorrow. I’ll ride out of Germany and into Austria for the first time. But more importantly, I’ll take the train from Linz to Munich where I’ll see Abby for the first time in over a month!
If you don’t hear from me in a couple days send help. I’ll be in a diabetic coma!
I packed up camp this morning and had a cup of coffee with Simon and Camilla. Then I was off on my own at 8:30 am. The forecast is set for the high 20s so I wanted to beat the heat.
I met a couple from Belgium today. The gentleman, Jens, flagged me down and asked if he could take a picture of me in my ridiculous looking sun gear. This is the first time anyone has done anything other than chuckle at all my sun sleeves. Turns out Jens is a skin cancer survivor and infectious disease researcher who spent his career trying (and largely succeeding) to cure HIV/AIDS. We talked touring bikes, climate, and sun protection gear for a bit then they zoomed off on their kitted out Dutch electric Santos bicycles, which were all I managed to capture from our meeting.
Note the Pinion gearbox with Gates carbon drive
I reached Regensberg where I had planned to stay the night. But it was only 2 pm and the town seemed like more of a tourist stop with prices to match than it did a must-stay destination. So I pedaled on after a quick ride through the town’s medieval bridge and streets.
From Regensberg to Straubing was a challenging ride due to its long straight unshaded dirt roads in the summer heat. But keep going for there is a reward on the horizon.
You’ll eventually reach Walhalla, Germany’s hall of fame. It’s perched high on a hill and well worth leaving your bike behind to go explore. In addition to being an imposing building reminiscent of, if not identical to, the US Supreme Court, its views out into Bavaria are unparalleled anywhere else along the EuroVelo 6.
By the time I reached camp it was 7 pm and I was dehydrated. So I did what any red-blooded touring cyclist would do and ordered a big cold German beer, dehydration be damned.
The campsite attendant responded with a stern “Nein” when I (politely might I add) asked if he spoke English. It wasn’t five minutes later that I heard him having a pleasant conversation in good English with another camper.
This attendant took my food order: “Vegetarier, danka.” My order manifested as a massive tuna fish salad so that’s what I ate, plus an order of fries after my stomach told me the salad wasn’t enough for us.
Then as I ordered my second beer, a Dunkel Weiss, who but Miguel showed up! Soon after, Natan the Swiss showed up too.
Then it was off to the mosquito-infested zeltplatz to set up camp and to sleep.
As I laid in my tent thinking about today’s journey, I was struck by how the people I’d met on this trip—people like Maac, Miguel, Natan, Bharti, Simon, Camila, the others— and I had all hatched our plans independently and yet they conspired to bring us together, sometimes for days at a time, and to take us from strangers to friends.
Off to Ingolstadt — the home of Frankenstein and the signing place of the Reinheitsgebot (Germany’s beer purity law)!
But first, I had to take a hard look at my bicycle. For about the past week I’ve cursed my bike’s little wheels, my legs’ weakness, and the headwinds. This morning after too many cups of coffee it occurred to me that each of these wasn’t really the problem. Instead, I examined my drivetrain. It was filthy. After a week of riding in the mud and rain without fenders, all manner of twigs, mud, and pebbles had lodged themselves in my chain, cogs, and front cassette. Thanks to a sacrificial hotel towel, a 15-minute cleaning session, and a fresh coat of chain grease things went from feeling like I was slogging through mud (which in a way I was) to feeling like I’m riding a motorcycle.
This early afternoon tested me. Confusing signage and construction led me down the wrong way. It was my own stubbornness though that led me to tear a hole in my bib shorts.
What I thought was the correct route spit me out onto a construction zone. The bike path had been torn up so that a new path up along the river could be built. The new path was 20 or so feet up a steep mound of loose rubble and dirt but the path itself appeared rideable if only I could reach it.
Instead of turning around and finding the proper detour I decided the best idea would be to try and roll my fully loaded bike up the steep hill.
No dice.
‘No problem,’ I thought, ‘I’ll just heave my fully loaded steel bicycle up on my back and climb this mountain of loose dirt and rocks.’ Two-thirds of the way up this round mound of loose ground I lost my footing and slipped. Again, instead of stopping and looking for the detour I dug in. I heaved the bike up on my back once more and pushed to the top of the hill.
Mistake.
At the summit, I quickly saw that the new path was blocked off ahead and I’d need to make my way down the hill that I’d just climbed. I realized at this point that my seat post was attached to my bib shorts by way of a nice little hole courtesy of a screw on my lock holster. Such is life.
I was pissed at the world, the EU road maintenance crews, and the route itself. So pissed, in fact, that I neglected to document any of this episode with my camera. But I’ve accepted that my own stubborn reaction, despite being good-spirited—why not climb the mud mountain? It is an accomplishment of a sort—, was the real cause of my anger…and the new hole in my pants.
Now I’ve stopped for lunch — and a beer — in Neuberg.
German apple pie and a hefeweizen are perfect anti-inflammatories for a bruised ego.
After lunch, I met a couple from Poland named Simon and Camilla. We rode together for the rest of the day. Simon is in Ingolstadt frequently for his work with Audi, which is headquartered there so he suggested that we stop at a great ice cream spot in town. I had a scoop of malaga. That’s rum, sweet wine, and raisins.
Then we set our sites on a campsite 30km outside Ingolstadt in Neustadt an der Donau. On the way, we met a French-speaking Swiss named Natan who joined us for the rest of the ride.
Unclear whether Natan is smiling here
Once at the camp (which is nice but costs 13eur!) and after a miscommunication with Simon I ventured into town for dinner. He thought I was going to wait for them to shower and I thought he was telling me not to wait. Oops.
I ordered the goulash, vegetarian strudel, and a kraut salad.
Other than the rip in my bib shorts, today was the perfect ride.
I ain’t no meteorologist but there’s a storm in them there hills!
I packed up and left camp by 7:30 am to beat this afternoon’s thunderstorm. And I would have got away with it too if it wasn’t for those meddling tempeh wraps!
Feeling quite cocky, I thought I had time to break for lunch
A biblical rain crashed down when I was just 15 minutes from my destination. As the storm clouds rolled in they brought ear-splitting thunder and lightning close enough to spark concern. I crossed under an overpass by sheer luck just as the storm started. Another cyclist and I took refuge there for about 20 minutes until the storm passed.
I was riding hard to reach my destination before the next storm clouds could catch up to me. But who did I run into in Donauwörth? None other than my friend Miguel! I gave him a ribbing over his claim the night before that he would blow past Donauwörth today then I headed straight for my dry room after we said our goodbyes.
It feels great to take a day off from camping and to have a dry place where I don’t have to worry about lightning strikes.
If this is Weissbier Hell then I don’t want to go to Heaven
Oh, and anyone who says France has the best-baked goods hasn’t been to Bavaria.
It stormed all night last night – lightning and everything. I felt like a bit of a moron in an open field next to a tree with my steel bicycle propped up a few feet away. But I survived.
Back on the road
What did almost killed me though was the snoring from a tent that was over 20 meters away. One collapsed windpipe was all it took. How has evolution not taken care of snoring yet? The fact that women endure snoring like this is beyond me. (I’m sorry Abby, but if you ever start snoring like this man did we are going to have serious problems).
Anyone who says EuroVelo 6 is flat is lying
I was relieved to be woken up though. I was in the middle of an unsettling dream about my friend, Khalil, who died suddenly when we were in college. This dream stuck with me throughout today’s ride. I spent a lot of time reminiscing about some of the fun nights that Khalil, Will, Andrew, Bri, Jourdan, our other friends, and I shared in which Khalil’s antics led to crazy stories. Like that time we ran for our lives from a Papa John’s delivery driver…
Aside from the good memories, I kept coming back to just how strange it is to miss a friend who died at such a young age (19). Khalil is stuck in time in a way, yet when I think about him I often imagine he’s aged too. For me, one of the hardest things about Khalil’s death is that I don’t just miss who he was, there’s also a deep sense of loss over not getting to meet who he would have become. Anyways, it was special to have this time alone to remember and to think about my friend.
For lack of a better transition, I’m writing this entry in my journal at a cafe where I’m stopped for a pastry, sandwich, and coffee after a wrong turn that took me a couple kilometers off route. This pastry is incredible. Shaped like a German pretzel but with a sugar glaze.
Yum
I found a campsite in Ulm right along the river that is centrally located. You should stay here. It is 10eur and within walking distance of Ulm’s city center. It’s called Canoe Club Camping.
This rider was a little green behind the ears but seemed to be doing ok
In Ulm, there is a great hemp restaurant called Hemperium. They have hemp spaetzle, hemp beer and lots of vegan options. The dish with lentils, vegan sausage, and hemp spaetzle is delectable and filling.
Wash it down with a couple of Hanf Lagers and now we’re talking. The hemp beer smells like fresh cannabis but tastes like a refreshing brewski. It’s a surprisingly pleasant combo.
Ok, back to camp. There are few things better than a tasty filling meal, a good beer, and the knowledge that camp is already set up!
I thought I’d make it past Riedlingen to Ulm today but the ride was a hellish—which is not the same as unenjoyable—one with rainy dirt roads along the Danube. Turns out that not getting fenders was a terrible idea.
So. Much. Mud.
Anyway, I took lots of stops in towns, at German backeries, and to get my phone service working again. Tesco Mobile ensures that when you leave the EU (that is, when they can charge exorbitant rates for data) your service works immediately, but when you travel within the EU (that is, when your data is free by law so that Tesco can’t price gouge) you always have to spend at least an hour uncovering and entering some special magic code deep into your phone’s settings to get service.
It hit me today how surreal this trip feels. From taking a boat to riding with my friend Will for a few days to camping to meeting new friends to riding my bicycle every day, it’s hard to describe.
Miguel, the cool guy who bought me a beer yesterday, is at tonight’s campsite too. I recommend this campsite. It’s owned by a friendly German couple, has a good shower, and lots of cyclists stay here. It’s called Campingplatz Vöhringer Hof. Its vintage vending machine makes drinking a beer with new friends even more fun.
Tomorrow is on to Ulm. Only 50km, which is perfect because I’ll have time to explore.
I was up early at 6:45 to get ready, eat a leisurely breakfast and head out by 8.
The hostel breakfast was great. Definitely eat the Youth Hostel breakfast in Schaffhausen.
Today was an absolutely wonderful ride. It was hard as hell coming up out of the Black Forest but all I could do was laugh out loud to myself like a crazy person at the notion that I get to live this cycling dream!
I stopped in a little town called Stein am Rhein just before 10:30 am. It’s a picturesque old Swiss village turned tourist stop-off. Bikes are parked everywhere because a few different EuroVelo routes cross through the town. All this is within a plaza packed with people, chairs, fountains, and ornately painted buildings.
I made a pit stop at the River Bike and Cafe to check out their bicycles and left with a delicious ginger beer. The owner of the place was a nice guy.
After Stein am Rhein there was a big climb out of Switzerland and the Black Forest into Germany. The forest gave off a cool breeze. The climb rewarded me with what must be the coolest campsite in the world, the Zeltplatz für Radfahrer, or Campingplace for Cyclists. Whatever you do, stay here.
I ate vegan currywurst, fries, and tabouleh for dinner and my only regret is that I didn’t make it in time for the thermal baths. The campsite only costs 5eur and is located in a serene public park that includes a skatepark, fitness park, two restaurants, and a live music venue with deliciously cheap beer. All this made for a fun night.
I met an Argentinian guy at the campsite named Miguel who lives in France. Miguel bought me a beer and we had a great time talking about the route and the other bike tours Miguel’s been on. It was great to find an English speaker. Let’s hope he’s even half as cool as my friend Maac was!
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.
