Back to the mirrors

Sometime ago I wrote about a "fashion" item that I often wear, i.e. a mirror that attaches to my glasses. This is a better icebreaker than a dog or probably even a Brompton bicycle. I find the mirror very useful in traffic and do not enjoy touring without it, so it is always embarrassing when asked where I bought it. We bought a couple at Spezi in Germersheim two or three years ago, but it is invariably a long time until the next Spezi. I did not know where else you can buy them. I have recently discovered that the mirrors can be bought in Germany from pedalkraft (www.pedalkraft.de)for the reasonable price of 16€.

Fashionable Winter Gear

We are in the words of one of neighbours not famous for our interest in fashion. However the growing interest, at least in the UK, in urban cycling has given rise to a number of specialist shops selling fashionable and reputedly utilitarian cycling clothing and accessories. They seemed to be designed on the premise that one can wear the clothing to cycle in and one does not look like a would be Lance Armstrong or cycle tourer in the office or pub afterwards.
Typical companies are Cyclechic www.cyclechic.co.uk, Cyclodelic http://www.cyclodelic.co.uk, the Danish firm Yakkay, http://www.yakkay.com/ who manufacture helmets that don't look like helmets and one of our favourites: Do You Velo, not only for its stylish website and the quality of its French, but also for its stylish but practical gear: http://www.doyouvelo.com/.
Unfortunately although we are pleased that urban cycling is becoming a normal activity, we ourselves will only become fashionable in winter when shower cap covered helmets, GoreTex jackets, Aldi MTB winter gloves and Rainleg leg covers come into fashion.

Weathering summer storms: II Around the Bodensee

Our next round with St Peter and the weather gods was planned for mid-June to coincide with the visit of two friends, one from Scotland and the other from USA. Both were willing to experience the fabled Forsyth biking trip and as we set off towards Lake Constance the sun was shining and the forecast, changeable but not dire.
Day 1 Once aboard the train towards Radolfzell, the clouds began to gather and we soon noticed the first fat, glistening drops on the carriage windows. Our holiday spirits were not greatly dampened and we set off in a dry period from Radolfzell catching glimpses of the Gnadensee arm of Lake Constance to our right. Despite a picnic in the train our stomachs reacted to the early start and we stopped for a round of Pommes (chips or fries, according to nationality) at a wayside cafe. Fortunately the large umbrella shielded us from the worst of the heavy rainstorm, as one of the locals nearby managed to down three large Weizen beers over the next half hour. The black cloud remained stationary overhead, a phenomenon with which we were to become familiar over the next few days. Meteorologists explain that low pressure systems which often whistle rapidly through much of Germany get trapped against the rising Alps just south of the Lake and often linger and linger. However we got back on the bikes and pedalled the few remaining kilometres to our overnight resting place in Mindelsee, just uphill away from the Lake. Keeny, beany students of geology will recall the various Ice Age periods from oldest to youngest: Gunz, Mindel, Riss and Wurm. The glaciers scooped out the hollow for the Mindelsee (lake) and also produced the drumlins, rounded hillocks of clay and rocks of the local landscape. We stayed in a delightfully rustic Landgasthaus on the edge of a wildlife park. Brown bears, big birds of prey, totally trusting deer free to roam in a huge enclosure and a group of acrobatic goats, including a few ‘teenagers’ trying their chances with the chief billy goat, all made for an enjoyable wander through the park in a dry spell.
Day 2 We had heard downpours and thunder in the night but our bikes were dry in a nearby barn and we set off through the drumlins, up and down towards a sunlit Lake Constance. Along the Lake riding in shirts and shorts, we headed towards the city of Konstanz where a ‘frontierless Flea Market’ was in progress. Street music, 1000s of people pushing bikes or walking carrying treasures such as African masks, doll’s houses, baby clothes and that LP from the 50’s that they had always wanted. We could have sold all 4 bikes many times (2 Bromptons, 2 Dahons) but people shied away when value was discussed! We pressed on down to the lake and the Konzilgebäude (a historic warehouse), just in time to shelter from the first downpour of the day. We took coffee or hot chocolate, listening to jazz in a neighbouring beer garden until the rain slackened, then cycled out along the shore, past wonderful houses and gardens to the car ferry across to Meersburg, just visible in the murk ahead. Meersburg is a wealthy, picturesque little centre of wine growing, where the fine houses of the vintners perch in the upper town above the crowded lake shore shops and cafes. Tearing ourselves away and again in sunshine we cycled along towards Hagnau and a restaurant we remembered. Tischlein deck Dich (Little table set yourself) was still there, though bigger but we all enjoyed our lunches, outside under sunshades, against the strong sun. Then after a short steep climb through the vineyards we gently wandered along to our overnight stop in Friedrichshafen. Just on the edge of town we paused at the Schlosskirche, now fully restored after wartime destruction which the other party members hadn’t visited before. Before dinner we discovered that the lake promenade with its various memorials to Graf Zeppellin was in the grip of a gigantic Volksfest. There were dancers and food stalls not just from Europe but from America, Africa and the Indian subcontinent as well. Everyone was having a jolly time, trying out delicacies and goggling at the costumes. Outside the Zeppellin museum we took shelter from a rainstorm which had turned the whole western Lake pitch black. No night for a romantic cruise on the Bodensee! Back at the hotel (Gasthof Rebstock) the food was tasty and plentiful as usual and we all tucked in, washing it down with beer or wine as inclined. And so to bed..
Day 3 Hm, rain showers dogged us as we cycled into town on a back road discovered the evening before. Jackets on we set off on what should have been a lovely ride past all our favourite little resorts like Langenargen, Kressbronn and Wasserburg to Lindau, which really does deserve its reputation as a crown jewel. I lost count of how many times we stopped to shelter under the eaves of barns, huddled under immense trees (there was no thunder and lightning) or steamed gently under overhead heaters at lunch at a farm restaurant. All the locals assured us that it would be fine by the afternoon, tomorrow or sometime later. However we had seen the forecasts for the next few days.... The minor low pressure system the meteorologists were discussing as we left home had turned into a major problem, rotating slowly anticlockwise over the eastern Alps and causing flooding, transport interruptions and even deaths in parts of Austria and Switzerland. In addition snow was forecast in the mountains and temperatures for the next day would start in single figures Celsius. We were all grateful to reach our lodgings and pleased to find we had been allotted a small apartment, nicely modernised looking out over quiet courtyards. Despite the rain we rediscovered all Lindau’s delightful nooks and crannies before finishing the evening in a great restaurant: Alte Post, with tasteful decor and an excellent choice of food.
Day 4 It was pouring down relentlessly in the morning, skies dark grey without even a lightening where the sun should be so we put on a few extra layers and all available foul weather gear and set off to the quay. We saw absolutely no point in a 40 km slog in a cold downpour along the Lake into Bregenz and round to Arbon. We took the ship instead, occasionally venturing on deck but mostly keeping snug in the restaurant, thankful that the lake steamers take bikes as well as riders. After docking, the rain was just a heavy drizzle so we rode the 8 km into Arbon and had a hot lunch in a cafe, where various other cyclists were also taking refuge. Exhausted by our efforts, most of the party had a snooze in the afternoon in our ‘billet’, which we shared with a huge collection of teddies and fluffy animals. We had a bit of a wet trudge round the town in the evening but eventually found a local pub, with reasonable food though the waitress was so shy and softly spoken that communication was difficult. However one of us left ‘the bag’ with money, passport etc. behind, hanging on the chair back - the pub manager chased us up the road and round the corner to return it - before its loss was noticed. Panic over before it had begun and thank you honest citizens of Switzerland!
Day 5 The roads were still wet as we left Arbon but the weathermen, who had been absolutely correct up to now had promised improvement, no rain and even sunshine. As we bowled through the fields alongside the railway the cloud thinned more and more, layers of clothing were shed until the sun finally reappeared. Both the landscape and the party members began to smile once again, lunch could be taken outside and even an ice cream contemplated. Through Romanshorn and on to Kreuzlingen, opposite Konstanz on the Swiss side of the Lake then across the intensively farmed delta flats to the hills above Ermatingen. It was worth the almost vertical climb up to the country house once occupied by Napoleon III to view the furnishings and fittings, sturdy wooden cabinets used by Napoleon I in his Egyptian campaign and other trappings of a bygone age. What was even more interesting to most of us was the discovery that the entire family, over several generations had been dedicated garden designers, plantsmen and -women leaving superb gardens in Europe and America to posterity. Later we took the train along the Untersee and Hoch Rhein to Diesenhofen and then cycled on to our B&B in Gailingen, just across the border. This little town is almost an enclave of Germany more or less surrounded by Switzerland, with the advantage to us of being in Euroland where accommodation prices are reasonable. Our rooms were delightful, looking onto the garden with distant views of Switzerland and the hills in Thürgau. Most of us had pushed our laden bikes up the steep hill from the town. We had a jolly evening meal down the hill, sharing our table with a young man recovering slowly from a stroke. His mother and several other young supporters were visiting, having travelled hours by car. We were very impressed by the whole group and the effort they were determined to make. A special clinic in Gailingen offers hope and continuing research into treatment of stroke, especially in young people.
Day 6 Wall to wall sunshine on our final day of cycling. A beautiful long gentle downhill section into Büsingen, another anomalous German enclave. It has a curious history involving murder, kidnapping and goodness knows what else, with two postcodes one Swiss and one German, where the inhabitants pay German income tax and Swiss purchase tax, where two telephone boxes, one Swisscom, one Deutsche Telekom stand side by side in the main street and which for many years had different time to the rest of Germany. Along the silent, fast flowing dark green Rhine into busy Schaffhausen, where the bridges are bedecked with geraniums and downstream to the Rhine Falls. All that rain had done its job, the Falls were as loud and spectacular as one could hope for. On the north bank of the river you can get close to the Falls for free, whereas on the south bank the view is blocked by an hotel and access only by an expensive series of steps and platforms. These were closed and being rebuilt in summer 2009. We retraced our way to Schaffhausen and then took the south bank through small villages and fields, with a little climbing here and there to a bridge just downstream of Stein-am-Rhein, one of the prettiest towns we know. On the long descent into the town one of the party was suddenly attacked by insects, causing her to leap from her bike and roll over in a convenient meadow. Fortunately inspection in a nearby ‘restroom’ did reveal a few bites which were quickly treated and the incident forgotten. After marvelling at the painted houses depicting local history and people, it was finally time for those ice creams, sitting in the sun whilst the cold, wet days slipped away. We met the young man and his friends again that evening, enjoying hearing their banter and wishing them all the best in what will be undoubtedly a long uphill struggle.
Day 7 Back to Mannheim by train and a pleasant cycle ride home, another tour through summer storms completed without great problems, returning to a sunlit house and garden.

Wet legs?

We have written in the past about the inability of cyclists to agree jointly on any topic even for the greater good of the cycling community. For example one good way of causing a riot such that the Justices of the Peace need to called out, is to mention the topic of cycle helmets at any British or German cycle club meeting. One is thus loath to criticise any other group in the cycling community, but there are times when one needs to roll one's eyes in the direction of the heavens and stifle some mild oath. We recently received a copy of the "American Bicyclist" the League of American Bicyclists' bimonthly magazine and I was struck by number of bicycles pictured without mudguards or fenders as our US friends call them. We also read the literature put out by Ground Effect, a New Zealand manufacturer of clothes for the mountain biking community - excellent reasonably priced gear and a very amusing website/newsletter. (We have bought the odd item from Ground Effect.) It is seen in some circles as "dorky" to cycle with mudguards. Dorky, I gather, is a major insult. Just in case I may have given the wrong impression Ground Effect itself does not have any opinions one way or the other about dorky-ness of cycling accessoires. Some of their reviewers are given to these opinions. A lot of folks would rather have wet and muddy legs and the black stripe up the back than run the risk of looking sensible. Very odd! As my dear mother-in-law used to say of fashionable but uncomfortable garments "Pride is painful".
If you wish to go out and use the bike as an outdoor fitness machine on sunny days it is fine to cycle without any protection, however if you are going to commute and not just to the pub, then protective fittings are a big advantage. It is noticeable that in the two countries where people cycle extensively as a means of transport: The Netherlands and Denmark people cycle on bicycles with mudguards in normal clothing and with stands so that one can leave the bicycle standing up without having to find a convenient wall to prop the bike up. I know the lads in the Tour de France don't have mudguards or stands, but these guys are being paid to get wet through and have a team of mechanics to hold their bikes.
Rant over, just don't get me started on rucksack wearing on touring bicycles.

More useful stuff for cycle touring

This is a suggestion for day trips around home. One of the things that oafs find amusing is to break bottles on cycle tracks, so that with luck a cyclist has to repair a puncture. This is so sidesplittingly funny! We fight against this by taking a dustpan and brush with us now and again and cleaning the mess up. It might just discourage the idiots from doing this as well or at least from adding to the mess.

Packing again

In recent years while cycle touring on the Dahon Speed TR I have carried all my gear in a Carradice saddle bag and a handlebar bag. We cycled the length of the Kiel Canal recently and in the run up to leaving the house to cycle to the station to catch a train to Hamburg, I popped an old, battered, small pannier bag on the bike in addition to carry the Dahon El bolso bags. We had to smuggle the bikes onto a DB (German Railways) InterCity train that carries bicycles, but as is often the case at weekends all the bike positions were booked. Once these places are full putting bikes elsewhere is verboten. As soon as we could, i.e. on the next day we posted the El bolso bags home. We didn't need them again on the trip and when folded the bolso bags are quite bulky. They do fold up to go into a small duffle bag cum rucksack, but neither of us likes cycling far wearing a rucksack. Afterwards we were both surprised at how useful a half empty pannier can be - carrying sandwiches, a litre pack of fruit juice or even a couple bottles of beer is child's play. I think we will do it again in future, but probably using a new pannier bag, if we can find one small enough. Bags for 20" wheels are not easy to come by.

Allow more time!

Neil spent many years cycling between Viernheim and Weinheim every working day and could time his journey to the minute. Our tours and excursions often start by cycling into Mannheim to catch a train there. It is about 14 km door to door and we used to reckon we needed a maximum of 50 minutes, on laden bikes. Once recently we missed our first train and arrived panting 2 minutes in advance of our connection the other day. We don’t think we’ve slowed up appreciably but have miscalculated delays due to traffic lights, road works or other cyclists.
Though most of our route is on cycleways parallel to roads, there are several major junctions involving traffic lights. One of these has been rejigged because it now carries a tram route. Another involves crossing a dual carriageway where there is no link between the lights and very little space on the centre refuge.
As an attempt to boost the building industry and provide jobs Mannheim has received a massive package of Federal Government Aid to be spent on public works. All well and good but we were upset to find our main route past the Rosengarten Concert Hall/Conference Centre complex was virtually blocked by trucks, sand and in one case steps! However, cyclists do have some lobbying power here in Germany and we were relieved to see, on our next visit, that although the pavement renewal was still proceeding space had been left for cyclists and tarmac ramps replaced the steps.
As to our fellow cyclists there is little one can do about someone as wide as both of us put together occupying the middle of a cycle lane, someone just out to buy his morning paper wearing flip-flops and riding a bike perhaps older than either of us or a pair locked in a loving embrace straddling the cycleway...except allow more time!

Weathering summer storms I:In the Eifel

Even though we are retired, we plan our cycling excursions somewhat in advance of weather forecasts. By the time we’ve organised cancelling the paper, mowing the grass and engaging friends to water or harvest whatever fruit or vegetable our tiny garden is producing, potential settled high pressure has often been seen off by dark and cloudy depressions. So it was with our Eifel tour in mid May. The Eifel region is a plateau in northern Rheinland-Pfalz roughly bounded in the south by the Mosel/Moselle and on the east by the Rhine. Other rivers like the Kyll, a Mosel tributary and the Ahr, which flows into the Rhine just upstream of Remagen have cut deep valleys while the uplands in this still tectonically active region continue to rise very slowly. As ever friends scratched their heads as to why we wanted to take to the hills by bike. As usual we found that with a bit of guile in the route planning and pacing ourselves on the uphills we thoroughly enjoyed our trip, despite a few downpours.
Day 1 En route to Trier by train, we were discouraged by a group of purple-kneed, soaked mountain bikers who threw themselves and their bikes suddenly into our compartment just beyond Kaiserslautern and shivered in their wet clothes, as the train pottered on through cloudbursts. By Trier the worst was over and we sailed with a tailwind, skirting the puddles, upstream along the familiar Mosel Radweg towards Luxembourg and Schengen. There is a short hiatus close to the frontier because there is no room beneath the bridge for a bike path but we were soon in Luxembourg, grateful for an excellent public toilet by the bridge. Our route continued alongside the Sauer/Sûre river, on quiet roads or cycleways, short climbs followed by flatter sections as the hills closed in around the incised meanders. Here and there war memorials reminded us that this region was in the front-line towards the end of WWII. By the time we reached the bridge at Bollendorf, our overnight stop, the weather was sultry and both of us sweated as we pushed our bikes up near vertical narrow streets to the YH, perched high above the village and back in Germany. The thoughtful wardens served us an excellent meal of tomato soup, roast chicken and veggies plus stewed fruit, in quiet splendour in a spare dining room away from the madding crowd of teenagers. We followed this with a beer in the cellar bar and retired to our comfortable double room pleased with our start.
Day 2 After a good breakfast we loaded the bikes under lowering clouds and set off northwards, losing a little of the height gained the evening before, reaching a minor road over our first real Eifel ridge which we crossed easily. We descended steeply into Enzen, taking a quick look at a castle on the way. From here the Enz cycleway, a converted railway line complete with lighted tunnels and viaducts was to lead us to Prüm. Woods, wildflowers, birds big and small were our companions the whole day as we thanked the railway builders, constricted by the physical limitations of the coefficient of steel on steel to gradients eminently suited to elderly cyclists. Even occasional showers weren’t enough to dampen our spirits, or the final climb to Prüm YH, a wonderful modern building where our room was hotel standard, large, airy and with twin beds plus en suite bathroom. Meanwhile the weather forecasts were looking ever grimmer, with falling temperatures adding to the gloom. Ah well, to think I’d brought a new tricot to brighten up our picture record!
Day 3 If you start the day in the headwaters of one valley and end in the headwaters of another, clearly climbing is necessary. Northwards in the Enz valley out of Prüm a concrete highroad bridge soared over to our right. After a climb steep enough to make both hearts and lungs work faster we crossed beneath the bridge and then looked down on the poor souls in their metal boxes, en route to meetings or whatever. Our way now rolled over high meadows and woods, through villages and past wind turbines, now down, now gently up heading towards Gerolstein. This is the home of a former noted German cycle racing team sponsored by the local mineral water company. This extracts water from wells deep beneath the volcanic rocks. The promised bad weather seemed to have passed by so we turned right before Gerolstein down the Kyll valley cycleway. The Kyll is delightful, mature woods interspersed with meadows, farms and villages, castles dotted here and there and linked for the cyclist by well surfaced trails, new bridges and picnic places. Information boards in English, French and German abound as this route has been designed to be child friendly to attract families as well as school parties. We bowled along gently downhill enjoying the sights and the ride, knowing that we could board a train for the trip back uphill. We stopped cycling in Kyllburg, just before the cycleway makes a short, very steep ascent to avoid a gorge, but after we’d cycled through a tunnel still in use by the trains (separated by high wire fences, but still making the heart beat). We fancied an ice cream, or lunch but the station restaurant was having its Ruhetag (i.e. closed day) so we diverted to a nearby supermarket, just in time for the first rain. That night it poured as we wended our way to a restaurant, ate well and braved the rain on return.
Day 4 Rain showers were still lashing the streets and pavillions erected in advance of a huge cycle fest over the weekend as we woke but had slackened to drizzle as we headed towards Pelm. We made a shortish tour to Daun over hill and dale, through forests and rarely out of sight of wind generators. It seems Daun is one of those places only reached by climbing steeply, whatever the direction of approach. We wanted to visit the Geological Museum there to bone up on the crater lakes dotting the landscape. First we needed to find the YH, which inevitably was perched on a crag in the woods. After some sweat and cursing we got there, dumped our bags and returned, uphill to the Museum (fortunately well worth a visit). Our evening was much enlivened by meeting a couple of Aussie motor cyclists, somewhat missing the promised German summer, so we drowned our sorrows together in the bar (a beer each, no worries).
Day 5 To the station in drizzle, with temperatures sinking. We wanted to take the Eifel Querbahn over to Ulmen. This is an historic diesel powered railcar, running at the weekends in summer and chugs along gently swaying through the woods and fields. Staff actually lifted our bikes aboard and handed the ‘old lady’ up and down! (Unfortunately since our visit one railcar has been rammed by a truck on a level crossing, with some casualties, so we are not sure of its future.) In Ulmen the weather was fine and bright with a fierce wind, fortunately mostly behind us. We headed north, through beautiful beech woods along bike trails linking villages devoid of shops where ‘the fox and hare say goodnight to each other’ as the Germans say. Intermittent rain, scudding clouds and wind turbines. Somewhere up ahead was the Nürburgring, said to cause traffic problems at weekends, and today was...a Saturday. Up, down, through Kelberg with its wartime air raid shelter cut into the hillside, then the climb to Nürburg began. Our information said that a route existed for cyclists, under, over, via the Ring so we slowly ground up an old rail trail conscious of apparent swarms of giant maddened bees off to our left, but without real worries about crossing the Ring. At last at the top, bee swarms clearly machines being driven to breaking point and...our cycle route ended in a building site of Olympic proportions. Signs ‘We are building an Erlebniszentrum (Experience Centre), we hope you understand’! Sure, much putting it down to experience and heading to the road (a normal public road, as used by normal vehicles) as a poorer alternative. Diversion! More Experience, and all free! Underwhelmed we returned to the building site where little old lady cyclist questioned security officers of route to freedom. No problems, straight on, ignore signs. A couple of hundred metres on, more road closures and another hi-vis guy. Still no problem, all downhill from here, soon into Nürburg village, he insisted. Well, the downhill soon turned into uphill and a feeder road for would-be Jenson Buttons, including a couple of JBs driving a bus and a Landrover who nearly took us out on the hard shoulder, deafened as we were by the maddened bees on the actual track. Then miraculously we were past and standing below the castle itself - the Nürburg, the highest in the whole of the Eifel. Relief, blow the castle, because our route took us down through fields and woods, past totally unknown villages like Quiddelbach, Herschbroich and Broidscheid, each gentle descent leading to another and even the sun breaking through. The quaint town of Adenau, on Sundays is a draw for be-leathered fans of two and four wheeled speed machines, drinking their decaffeinated lattes or being photographed next to something sleek and low slung, that clearly wasn’t theirs. Full of moral superiority we veered right onto the bike trail again, river banks, foals in fields and still running downhill to meet the Ahr cycleway by Dumpelfeld. Despite the valley apparently being far too narrow and the sides actually rock cliffs at times, to accommodate road, railway and bike path we found one all the way into Altenahr, just as pretty and quaint as Adenau but with fewer bikers and speed kings. We’d promised ourselves a beer or at least Kaffee and Kuchen if we made it alive from the Nürburgring but somehow we kept looking for the perfect place and eventually settled for the YH, almost hidden downstream in the valley depths. It seemed not quite as welcoming as Bollendorf, though the food was great.
Day 6 Yesterday we had both worn windproofs and pullovers the whole day and on our last day it rained most of the way down the Ahr valley, so we needed care on various wooden bridges and overpasses on route to Sinzig and our train. We were probably 5 minutes late in starting and in Kurort Bad- Neuenahr-Ahweiler we were also slowed by the Sunday morning strollers so we missed our intended train by a few minutes. It wasn’t much of a disaster, the weather was brightening up and we eventually enjoyed our trip to Worms with a change in Bingen. Keen-eyed husband Neil had noted that a change to a meandering, flower plucking local train enabled use of our over 60’s special passes. As we detrained in Worms it was clear that summer had broken out again so my new tricot did get an airing, Kaffee and Kuchen were eaten in style in a pavement cafe before we cycled home, across the Rhine bridge and through the fields south.
Rain yes, hills sure, but definitely great scenery, few cyclists and well worth the effort.