June 5 - Dead Ends

Meticulous route planning is not our forte. We prefer a more casual approach, trusting local knowledge and adjusting our overall plan as we ride. Usually we are successful. Today, however, we encountered our first dead end.

Excited to learn that the Monastery of Weltenburg, the oldest Benedictine Abbey of Bavaria, founded in 620 AD was just “around the corner” we picked up our pace and followed the clearly marked bike trail to the historic site. There in the distance loomed the famous church. Spectacular! What we failed to notice was the deadend! Looking at each other in disbelief we began to face the grim reality that after exploring the church, we may have to retrace our steps. Fortunately, Lady Luck was on our side. In the distance, we noticed quite a large lineup forming. Our curiosity piqued, we investigated. There it was - a ferry dock. The next leg of our Eurovelo 6 route was literally ON one Europe’s greatest rivers. Without a moments hesitation we joined the line and before we could blink we were cruising the Danube all the way to Kelheim. 

Route Update

Once again we find ourselves camped on the banks of the Danube. The river has grown considerably and we seen our first cruise ships and barges. Currently, we are on the outskirts of Regensburg, a bustling river city. Accustomed to Canadian back-country camping we are slowing adjusting to the German way. Here, the campsites are close to cities and the amenities rival those of fine hotels. Sparkling clean washrooms, complete with hot showers and laundry facilities, camp stores, and Biergarten’s bustling with beer drinking , schnitzel eating Bavarians. We are striving to acclimate!

Giggle

Under the scorching hot afternoon sun, we struggled to maintain a decent pace. Feeling tired, cranky, and literally fried, we longed for a cold, tall glass of lemonade. We lamented the fact that neighbourhood lemonade stands appear to be a thing of the past. Where are the enterprising young entrepreneurs when you need them most? And, just like that, the cycle Gods delivered. A few kilometres outside of Marxheim we rounded a bend to be greeted on the trail by a group of teenagers. Recent high school grads, they had set up camp on the corner and were playing a drinking game. When a passing car honked, they would guzzle. We stopped and visited for a while, caught up in the excitement of Grad. They were curious about us and wanted to learn more. Mischievously, I convinced them that we must be at least half way to Budapest by now. I asked if they knew the Bon Jovi song, Living on a Prayer. Without hesitation, they cranked the music and we began to sing, “you’re half way there, living on a prayer.” Joyfully, they passed us the bottle of Schnapps and we took a shot. When in Rome!

June 2 - A Good Day for Up

We knew we were in trouble from the moment we saw the sign. Ski bus parking area ahead, or whatever the German translation of that is. Now, we are no experts, but we have spent enough time on a ski hill to know that you require a certain steepness of grade to operate a proper ski resort. With nowhere to go but up, we began the steep climb out of Whalweis. Gruelling kilometres of UP, UP, UP under the blazing sun. We are confident temperatures today were well into the 30’s. (For the record, I would like Mother Nature to know that we aren’t complaining...sun over rain any day..thank you very much!) 

Truth be told Rob is an excellent hill climber. With one look at the challenge ahead he digs deep, adjusts gears and attacks. Conversely, I like to think of myself as a downhill specialist. Not a technical downhiller like you would see in a cycling race, but more of a toddler’s approach. With glee, I relish the wind in my hair and the effortless descent. At times, I take my feet of the peddles and shout with joy. In order to match our opposing styles, at all impending steeps, I simply say to Rob, “see ya at the top!”, and there he patiently waits for me to complete my ascent. 

To the victors come the spoils. To say we were well rewarded for toughing out the climb is an understatement. Just when our legs and lungs felt like we couldn’t go any further, we began a spectacular descent to Tittengen. The kilometres flew by and all was right with the world again. To our great delight we arrived safe, sound and relatively intact at the Danube River. Dipping in the Danube never felt so good!

After the excitement of reaching the Danube, we pushed on, once again facing with a series of rolling hills along the river valley. By far, this is one of the prettiest sections we have cycled to date. The winding river cuts its’ way through steep rock walls. History runs deep here dating back to 1077. Signs of medieval fortresses, royal residences, turrets, towers and religious symbols are evident along the banks of the Danube. We are told one of the most powerful families in European history, the Princes of Hohenzollern-Sigmaringen, called this area home, and for just one night, so will we.

Route update

Arguably, the most challenging section of Eurovelo 6 to date has left us in a state of happy exhaustion. We are camped on the banks of the Danube River in the lovely town of Sigmaringen, well protected by Sigmaringen Castle towering above us. The local rowing club has welcomed us to their tenting area, so tonight we sleep amongst another group of passionate paddlers. Loud and happy sounds are resonating from the Beer Garden above. I suspect we may pay it a visit.

Giggle 

Soaring daytime temperatures. Menopausal. Hot Flashes. Down Sleeping Bag. Two man (Canadian 3 season tent). Snoring husband. Extremely loud snoring husband. Thoughts of killing him. I refrained. Enough said.

June 1 - The Sun Rises in the East

Kudos to Rob. He is the navigation master extraordinaire. Meticulously calculating distances, tracking our progress, checking and rechecking the maps, well, frankly without him I would still be at the airport. They say opposites attract, and when it comes to navigation I must agree. Frankly, after the sun rises in the east and “I think the river is flowing that way”, I have to excuse myself from all conversations related to distance and direction. However, in my defence I have become quite adept at predicting the challenges lying ahead. If I say so myself, I am a master at reading the body language of approaching cyclists and correlating it to the degree of difficulty we are about to face. For example, should a big, strong French road warrior, with bulging quadricep muscles and a flushed face appear from the crest of the hill, it translates to a fantastic stretch of downhill ahead. Conversely, should an aged gentleman on a cruiser bike approach without so much of a bead of sweat on his face it means we are in for a big, big climb. Needless to say, my intuitive skills at reading approaching riders combined with Rob’s native ability to know exactly where we are equate to cycle touring gold. That’s my story, and I am sticking to it.

Route update

Today we paid the price for those long, flat canal stretches in France. We followed the Rhine River and began the climb to Lake Konstanz, and a climb it was, but definitely worth the effort. We arrived at the spectacular Rhine Falls, the largest waterfall in Switzerland. After cycling for miles along quiet country roads the spectacle of the falls and the tourist infrastructure associated with the site was almost overwhelming. Bus load upon bus load of people were flocking to the area, clamouring to get closer to the thundering water. Without hesitation we joined the crowd, and pushed our way to the front, bikes and all....and yes we grabbed a selfie!

Enjoying a lazy afternoon, we stopped to bask in the sun on the shores of Lake Konstanz, and enjoyed some good old fashioned people watching. Being a holiday weekend, the lake was a beehive of activity and we soaked it all in. 

Tomorrow, with a little luck and a lot of muscle we hope to say goodbye to the Rhine and dip our tires in the Danube.

Giggle 

After a long day of climbing hills, we arrived happy but exhausted at Campinggarten Wahlwies, a cute little campsite just north of Lake Konstanz in Germany. To our great dismay the entry sign said campsite full. Feeling disheartened we decided to visit reception and do our best “totally exhausted we have nowhere else to go look”. (Not a stretch) Skeptical the owner carefully inspected us and appeared to be turning us away, when Rob played the Herr Weiss card hoping his German heritage would bring us luck. It worked! “Welcome Herr Weiss, we are full but we may have something for you, follow me. The site is bumpy, with long grass, a hill and “mices”, but it might be ok?” Perfect we said!

May 30 - I can see Germany from my tent

It is with a twinge of regret and excitement that we prepare to say au revoir to France. What an incredible few days it has been. We are in complete awe at the cycling infrastucture - endless miles of dedicated cycling paths and clearly marked route signage. Evidently, the bike and barge business has been good for the two wheeling crowd. At almost every turn we have witnessed upgrades geared specifically for cyclists, not to mention a huge investment in charging stations for ebikes.

To describe a highlight from our time in France would be extremely difficult. Each section of the route has offered something different: easy, flat cycling adjacent to canals, narrow twisty country roads, quaint villages, calming natural areas and busy cities. Historic palaces and churches, villas and chateaus, and of course incredible food and wine have been the order of the day.

Fascinated, we have observed the fisherman along the banks of the canals. Countless fisherman, each with several rods, testing their skills against Mother Nature. I can not tell you how many fishermen we have passed, but I can tell you how many fish we have seen pulled from the river. ZERO! Apparently, you need much patience to fish in France!

Without fail, during our time here, as we drew near larger urban areas the cycling paths became congested, but not in an annoying rush hour way. Instead they were a wonderful mix of “athletes in action.” People of all shapes and sizes sharing the road. Imagine the Stanley Park Seawall on steroids. Cyclists, walkers, joggers, runners, scooters, rollerblades, tricycles, ebikes, wheelchairs, and the odd motorized service vehicle just to make it exciting! Naturally, because we are in France, there were wine stops adjacent to the cycling path. Why not pull off, take a break and sip a glass of your favourite grape juice?

Most impressive, and absolutely intimidating, were the road racers who used the trails for training. Large masses of muscle, approaching at great speed, zipping by before you even knew they were there. Quite a contrast to our slow chugging touring bikes. As we watched these racers in awe we came to the decision that France is the land of quads, calves and croissants.  We will miss it!

Giggle

Two. The winning number is two. Those of you acquainted with Rob will know that he is either misplacing, searching for, loosing or breaking his glasses. When home, he frequently purchases eyeware in bulk at the local Costco. Well, rest assured on day two of our trip he completely destroyed his glasses and on day three he broke his sunglasses. I will not tell you what we had to pay to purchase a replacement set of spectacles. Leopards and their spots!

Route update

Tonight we pitching our tent in a paddlers campground on the banks of the Rhine River. Three of the Eurovelo cycling routes converge at this point and in addition to the white water paddlers , the campsite is full of cyclists from around the world, sharing tales from the road and route tips. 

Our first 1000 km are under the belt and we are feeling in bike shape. We have navigated our way across France and tomorrow we will touch Switzerland and Germany. Peddle on!

May 28 The Green Garden

Yesterday was a good day. A great day. We experienced almost everything we enjoy about cycle touring; the challenges, the rewards, the elements, and most importantly genuine , heart warming interactions with people.

Our route took us away from the canals and up in to the countryside. This area of France is cattle country, well known for its beef. Consequently we passed many a curious onlooker and our thoughts easily turned to double burgers. Narrow, windy roads kept the ride interesting and Mother Nature added her touch with wind and rain to keep us honest. As an added bonus we faced a very steep, hilly section. Fuelled by another round of pastries, we successfully tackled the hills at what we term croissant speed, an easy touring pace. We are fearful that we may be the only cyclists on Eurovelo 6 to be gaining weight as we have taken carb loading to heart. Our diet consists of baguettes, chocolate croissants, the odd ice cream and wine. We can only imagine what might happen when we enter Germany and add beer to the mix.

We were both riding strong and the day seemed to fly by. Faced with dwindling light and another storm system moving in we decided to was time to find a campsite. Unfortunately, there was nothing around for miles, and really no suitable spot to wild camp. Pulling over to the side of the road to chat, we decided to adopt Plan B. Unfortunately, we didn’t have a plan B. Exhausted and close to tears I simply stood there in disbelief. It was at that exact moment, a complete stranger pulled up in his car and offered assistance. Oozing civic pride he exclaimed, “follow me!” He drove slowly and carefully guiding us back in to town to the Mairie. Welcome to our green garden he said enthusiastically . The town designed this special place specifically for tourists, like us, who may be in need of a place to rest. Beyond grateful for his help we chatted for a few minutes learning more about this special place. As darkness grew we set up our tent, marvelling yet again at the kindness of strangers.

Giggle 

Approximately 20 km outside of Bourbon-Lancy I found myself struggling to keep pace with the Rock. Worried that my legs were beginning to fail me, I tried to increase my speed, but to no avail. Frustrated I peddled on and to my great relief I began to feel the fwump, fahwump of a slowing deflating tire. I know it sounds ridiculous to be relieved at the thought of a flat, but I felt encouraged that it was the bike failing and not my muscles. At this point we were travelling along very narrow, windy roads and it seemed quite dangerous to stop to change a back tire. We decided to attempt the old “inflate and sprint” technique. My knight in shining armour (stinky bike shorts) would hop off his bike and pumped up my rear tire. Rob would then yell, go Jane go! Upon the signal, I would ride like a bat out of hell, until the tire deflated again. I am mortified to think that as I summoned my inner sprinter, I probably looked exactly like an old bat out of hell. This inflate and sprint routine continued for the entire 20km until we finally had to walk the last stretch into our campsite. On a wing and a prayer...or perhaps a tire without air. (Groan!) 

Route update: 

Tonight we are enjoying Rob’s birthday brews at a little campsite cafe on the banks of the Soane River, in Saint-Jean-De-Losne. We have passed the southern most point of our route, and are now heading north and east toward Switzerland.

May 26 - Creatures of Habit

It’s been said that people are creatures of habit. I find it interesting how quickly we have settled in to our routine and cycle touring habits so to speak. We awake early each morning with the rising sun. Peacefully snuggled up in our sleeping bags we coax each other up out of bed. Often we pack up in silence enjoying the bird songs of the morning chorus, contemplating the ride ahead. We strive to get a few clicks under the belt while searching for a patisserie before we continue on to a sunny spot trail side in time to brew up our morning cup of java. Without question early morning is my favourite time to ride. There is a peacefulness early in the day, and the miles seem to come easily. Perhaps I am still half asleep?

Morning dew and the odd night of rain mean we are often packing up a soaking wet tent. On good days, when the sun is shining we break midday to perform our tent drying ritual which consists of pulling the gear out of our panniers. We carefully drape the tent, fly and groundsheet over our bikes and let the sun’s rays do their work.  A wonderful system when the weather cooperates!

Throughout the day the toll of distant church bells lures us off the cycle path into small, quaint French villages. A welcome excuse to hop off the bikes, rest the legs and “walk the town.” As a closet history nerd, I find myself fascinated with the stone walls, shuttered buildings and majestic churches. The architecture is impressive to say the least. We seek out encounters with local residents and attempt to converse. Sadly our French, or lack of, limits us from meaningful conversations, but we usually share a few nods, and chuckles. I feel confident saying that we have not offended anyone to date, although time may prove me wrong.

By far our evening habits are the most refined and dare I say regimented. Once we agree on when and where to stop for the day we spring in to action. Likely thoughts of dinner and a warm bed are the motivating factors. Within seconds we have the gear off the bikes. Rob channels his inner bike mechanic and gets to work tightening the racks, cleaning chains and pumping tires. It’s amazing what can rattle loose over the course of a day. While Rob tends to the bikes I work to set up the tent. Once our chores are complete we settle in to enjoy a hearty dinner, and I am sure you will agree a well earned meal. 

I suspect these habits balance out the uncertainty of a day on the bike and provide a bit of structure to the adventure. At times structure can be comforting. One thing is certain - we are definitely creatures of habit.

Giggle of the day

One habit we need to improve is our focus, especially when it comes to following clearly marked route signage. Today, as we were approaching the small town of Marseilles Les Aubigny we started fantasizing about cold lemonade. Tired and thirsty, lemonade was the one and only thing on our minds. Our pace picked up and we literally sprinted to the town centre. Who knew that our legs could pump this hard late afternoon? Unfortunately not a single shop was open, no drinks to be had. Insult to injury we managed to lose the trail. Blinded by lemonade we both missed a clearly posted sign directing us away from town. After several wrong turns and a few errant kilometres along a gravel Dyke trail we managed to get back on track. A high price to pay for an empty glass of lemonade.

P.s. I am happy to report that Rob, “the Rock”, my Rock has successfully repaired my handlebars. I am no longer jackknifing and catapulting over the front tire. Life is good.

May 24 - Island of Loire et Cheuille

Truth be told, we have enjoyed a fantastic start to our cycling tour. Having successfully navigated our way along Eurovelo Route 3 from Charles de Gaulle airport and through Paris while completely jet-lagged and brain dead we are now sitting on the banks of the Loire River resting tired muscles and enjoying a quiet evening. 

Lunch stop on the Seine in Paris

To say the last few days have gone smoothly and according to plan would be an outright lie. We have been lost more times than we care to admit, have found ourselves on deserted trails barely the width of our tires and already flatted. [yes Rob flatted because of his mashing!]

I have experienced four wee tumbles off my bike. [English translation - I have gone completely ass over tea kettle 4 times with the bruises, scrapes and scars to prove it.] Unfortunately, the screw in my stem, which attaches the handlebars to the bike frame appears to have been stripped, causing the handlebars to swing at a 90 degree angle spontaneously during travel. This technical difficulty accounted for 3 of my falls. The 4th spill however, was a doubler. Cycling single file along a narrow bike path, Rob in the lead at the time, noticed a service vehicle approaching. Calmly calling a warning out to me, Rob pulled over to get out of the way. Unfortunately I was in a zen state just merrily spinning away, not noticing the truck or hearing Rob. To my complete and utter surprise Rob appeared directly in front of me. BOOM! We both went down hard! As the truck driver looked on in disbelief and utter amusement I did what any good Canadian would do. I channeled my best Phil Esposito curtsy and gave the fellow a wave. (For those of you wondering who Espo is, simply google Canada vs. Russia hockey classic)

Glitches aside, our route through the south of France to date has been spectacular. We have managed to follow canals, skirting numerous natural areas allowing us to enjoy quiet, secluded pathways and discover quiet camping spots. Leapfrogging pleasure boats and barges as they navigated the canal lock system became the game of the day. These engineering masterpieces were built before Canadian Confederation was even a thought.

We were greeted warmly by countless fisherman, trying their luck on the banks of the canals. I wondered how they picked their special fishing holes, but sadly my French was as strong as their English and I never was able to quite communicate my question. 

Navigating the cobblestone streets of the small country towns is always a thrill and we are looking forward to soaking up the history and ambience of upcoming villages. Tomorrow, we point east as we join Eurovelo route 6, our compass set on Budapest. Of course, we will take it one day at a time and for now hope we can get to the next campsite without taking another fall.

Giggle of the Day:

We should know better! Our cardinal rule of travel is to always have a full pantry. At least one day of food, and water to spare. Yet, here we were on the eve of our second day, striking camp without so much as a crumb in any of our panniers. Dumb yes, predictable, perhaps? Too exhausted to care we dove into our tent fighting a bad case of the hangries. Waking to the early morning sun, we broke camp and set off without even a sniff of coffee. Grumpy? You bet! As we approached the small town of Cepoy, we looked at each other with glee. Simultaneously, as if on cue, we had both detected the fragrant aroma of a pattisierre. We followed our noses to some of the best chocolate croissants this side of Paris. Bon appetite!

P.s. I would like to apologize in advance for all of the spelling errors and grammatical mistakes that you will notice should you decide to read on. In my defence Rob and I often write our blog posts, late at night after a long day on the road. Having said that, speling has always bean one of my wekneses.