May 24, 2010 - Kirchzarten to Titisee

Estimated Mileage - 20 miles
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The was the day of the Big Climb. I had two big bicycling goals of the trip. One was to do a Century (100 miles in a day) and the other was to tackle a significant climb. Well, I've done the latter.

I woke up in morning feeling a bit odd: my hands were shaky. I chalked it up to sun exposure and dehydration, and just forgot about it. My route was to go straight up the side of a large hill (I won't call it a mountain, but it was pretty big) and get to a lake alluringly named Titisee.

I went up, and up and up - straight up for about 3 straight hours. If any serious hill climbing bicyclists are reading this (like Dustin) then that's not a very long climb. But for me it was a killer. On top of the steep grade and relentless ascent, it was a muddy logging road, which made it an even dodgier proposition.

Well, I Did It. It was the toughest voluntary physical activity I've ever accomplished. I am now, officially, a Tough Guy.

On the way up, about 5 ancient tractors passed me going up this deserted road. I caught up with them during a break. One lady told me they were just on a family outing, riding tractors in the mountains. Here's some hot tractor action

Once up in the top of the Black Forest, I was treated to some really spectacular views

I got to camp around 2 and just sat on the banks of the Titisee, with my feet in the water, watching boatloads of beer-soaked Germans cruise around the lake. My neighbor was a man named Oliver, who fished until dusk and was up before dawn. I spoke with his wife who told me that she would live in the Black Forest, but there are no jobs to be found. She said "My man has a job in Mannheim, which is ugly. But there is work there, so we come here only for vacation."

May 23, 2010 - Basel to Kirchzarten

Estimated Mileage: 65 miles
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I hadn't planned on going to Alsace during this trip, but when I looked at the map and saw that it was simply a matter of crossing a bridge and going north, of course I had to do it. It only took a little convincing at the morning's Planning Committee to change the day's route.  Here's the Switzerland/France border crossing

It was a holiday weekend, so everything was going to be shut on Sunday and Monday. Remy had told me that if I saw an open shop, that I should take advantage and stock up on supplies since there would be very few opportunities for groceries till Tuesday. I passed an open boulangerie in France on Sunday morning and witnessed a complete mob scene; everyone knew that things were going to be shut.

Often it seems strange that the epitome of civilization, France, was the cause of such barbarism duing the Revolution. Well, I saw with my own eyes the birthplace of the French Terror. I can just see the scene back in the late 1700's Paris:

Man at boulangerie: Please my good sir, sell me a baguette.
Baker: I am sorry, but there is no bread today.
Man: I and my friends will now murder everyone.

There was a line 10 deep, out the door. Cars honking trying to get in and out of the parking lot. Scalpers selling places in line. A very nice man behind me in line struck up conversation. He was, of course, a bicyclist, and has had dreams of doing a trip similar to mine his whole life. My first impression of France was insanely positive: friendly people and fresh bread. Here's the Chump Steamroller, with a fresh baguette bungied to the back

My next impression was that the bike route signage was atrocious. I was constantly getting lost. Luckily, there was an enormous river pointing the way most of the time. Also, it was a gorgeous day, perfect for getting lost in the Alsatian countryside.

The second half of the day was in Germany, winging my way in and out of tiny little Black Forest hill towns. I got constantly lost there as well, but it was a much bigger deal, since the towns usually lay in valleys, and to get from town to town, you have to climb hills. I think I did about 1000 extra feet of ascent because I confused the towns of Dottingen and Dattingen, one of which was my destination and the other is rat bastard hilly son of a bitch.

These towns at the foothills of the Black Forest were just fantastic: you'd spend about 20 minutes riding through rural vineyards and then come to a small town where they were doing wine tastings from the same vineyards. The wine was good (that's as nuanced as my wine terminology goes) and every restaurant had half their menus filled with asparagus recipes (they're in season right now).

I came into my final destination of Freiburg, and it was like arriving in paradise: there's a grassy canal that runs down the center of the town, shaded by trees and dotted with beer and wine stands. Everybody in town was down there, luxuriating in the beautiful weather.

I did a bit of luxuriating myself before pushing the 5 or 6 miles to a suburb called Kirchzarten. It was a long day of riding, full of sun, wine, rivers, 3 countries and a slight Nutella accident (it gets fairly fluid in the heat). I actually passed out at 8 PM as soon as I got my tent set up.

May 22, 2010 - Rest Day in Basel

Mileage: ZERO
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I didn't intend to spend a rest day in Basel, but between the generosity of my host, and the opportunity to meet a guy named Remy who is at the beginning of a trip around the world, I had to stick around for another 24 hours.  Armed with a city map and all of the Rick Steves' approved touring gear you can imagine, I set out into Basel, Switzerland for a day of unadulterated tourism

I walked and walked and walked.  I got lost 3 times and once I literally did a spit-take when I looked up and saw a church that I had walked past an hour previously as I was trying to make my way down to the river.  The entire town is bisected and surrounded by the Rhine river, yet I had a difficult time finding it.

I did all of the inexpensive tourist things you can do, like take the St.Alban's ferry.  It's attached to a guy line, and uses the current of the river and it's rudder to move across from shore to shore.  Here's an action shot:

Check out the wire connecting the boat to the guy line. Hot Basel ferry action.

Anyway, Basel is an endlessly fascination town, with lots of history and old buildings.  For example, it has a lot of old history associated to the Basilisk, even though the town wasn't named after it.  The Basilisk is what occurs when a rooster lays and egg and it's incubated by a toad.  Apparently it has the head of a dragon, the feet of a rooster and the hair of Larry King.  Or something like that.  It can turn you to stone with it's eyes. Anyway, here it is, just before spitting drinking water into my mouth:

There's a whole story that I listened to at the history museum about Basel and the Basilisk that's too mundane for me to recount.  It involves a well, a Basilisk, and a mirrored bucket.  You can probably fill in the gaps

Anyway, I came home, did some photo and blogging stuff, then Remy, the French guy going around the world showed up.  I think I pestered him with too many questions about gear and his plans, but no matter.  He was a very cool guy, and shared with me the last of his French sausage, bread and cheese.  It was his first day out of France for the next two years, and the fact that he was willing to share the last vestiges of his yummy food meant a lot.  Here's Remy, looking as good as he'll probably look for two years:

God speed, Remy.  Here's his blog, if you can read French.

May 21, 2010 - Waldshut to Basel

Estimate mileage: 40 miles
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This was a mostly forgettable stretch of riding, mostly due to the fact that much of the countryside leading up to the town of Basel is rather industrial.  There was one particularly nice stretch going through a protected forest before heading into the suburbs of Basel:

On the say-so of my German buddy I met the night previously, I stayed on the Swiss side of the border for most of the day, because the German side was populated with dams and factories.  Not that the Swiss side didn't have it's own set of factories.  It just had less.

Once in Basel, I met with Biff, my host for the evening, who proceeded to provide everything a bicycle tourist could ever want and more: A warm shower, a hot dinner, a comfortable bed, route and tour advice and a wonderful conversation after nearly of week of living within the confines of my own head.

That's Adrian, her neighbor, on the left.  Biff gave me some tips for what to see in Basel the next day, and I felt to sleep the instant my head hit the pillow.

A Quick Note on German City Names

It's well known that my sense of humor still hasn't progressed passed that of a 12 year old.  So it's difficult to ride through a ton named "Nusselwangen" without spending the whole day snickering to myself.  Same goes for "Huntenwangen".  And then there's this, which I provide without comment:

May 20, 2010 - Radolfzell to Waldhut

Estimated Mileage: 60 miles
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This was my second 60 mile day, and did it just fine.  The ride was also particularly spectacular, which made it seem short.  From Radozfell, I meandered through a Nature Reserve for about 30 minutes, going slow and enjoying the scenery:

I wound up at Stein-am-Rhein again, where my journey started, just so that I could officially say that I've completely circumnavigated Lake Constance.  About 15 miles of the ride was a stretch that I did on May 15th.  But after I hit Rheinfall, it was all new, including the tiny town of Rheinau, little "island" town that lives on a pinched parcel of land in a loop of the Rhein river:




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Very cool spot.  Note the small island named Klosterinsel.  This is where the cloister is located:

The rest of the ride was along the Rhein or through large swaths of farmland.  There was a nice campground in Waldshut, where I stayed.  Again the tent campground was near deserted, except for one nice French couple who was also biking.  After a customary dinner of an embarassingly large schnitzel, fries and beer, I walked past the picnic area and noticed that they were cooking a vegetable stew, putting myself and all of the schnitzel-eaters to shame with their healthy living.
Had a nice conversation that night with a German fellow and slept just fine except I was woken up by what I think was a fox trying to get at my Wurst.  I peered through my small tent window and saw a bushy tailed fox-esque creature skulking around (and I know my raccoons, so before you write, no, it wasn't a raccoon).  When I woke up my shoes were moved about 10 feet away from the tent.  So I can say that a fox moved my shoes.

May 19, 2010 - Reichenau to Radolfzell

Estimated Mileage: 20 miles
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Today was a rest day, with only 20 miles from beginning to end.  I needed desperately to update my blog, upload pictures, shower for longer than .50 Euros would allow (the campgrounds all have coin-operated showers) and do a small shopping (my wurst supplies were near critical).  I decided to stop in Radolfzell, a relatively large town just a small ways away.

Luckily for me, that it was market day when I got there!

I bought a roll of bread with a weiner in, as is my wont, and strolled around to observe a typical German outdoor market.  First impression: they sell a lot of cleaning supplies.  Brooms, brushes, solvents, mops, soaps, scrapers, unguents and salves.  It makes me wonder what came first: German anal retension or the German cleaning products industry?  A chicken and egg problem.  Here's a broom stand:

So I wandered through the town, bought some supplies, went back to the hotel and messed around on my first solid power and Internet connection in 4 days.  My room was very nice and affordable, except for the fact that the ceiling came down through the middle of it at a 45 degree angle, which meant I would scrape my shoulders every I stood up.

So I would crab-walk around the room to avoid further shoulder injuries.

I received an invite from an email companion to come to Basel for a night.  I hadn't planned on heading that way, but I was already a few days ahead of my rough itinerary.  So, after consulting a map, the Planning Committee (which consists of myself and a tiny plastic Koala) make tracks for Basel, a two day ride to the west, on the Rhine river.