Dusseldorf to Freiburg

Guten Tag!

Well, I have been on the road for a couple weeks now, and am loving my time. I have many stories that I want to tell you. Like these ones:

I left the luxury of Reiner and Gitta Luttgens on March the 27th and almost immediately got lost. Making my way back to the Rhine River proved to be difficult, but I made it. I am so grateful for the kindness of strangers. Many are free with directional information (which seems to be accurate about 75% of the time), and one nice fellow even rode with me for several km on my way to Koln (Cologne). Koln is a beautiful city, with a really fun hostel. This is where they invented perfume (I might be making that up…). The chapel in Koln is absolutely fantastic. And only took about 600 years to build. No big deal.

I kind of got stuck in Koln for a few days. I just rode my bike around during the day exploring and gathering information and supplies (including camp fuel). The weather changed from snow to rain and then to sun, which made everything a bit easier. You can buy big bottles of beer here for roughly 50 cents at the grocery store and drink them while you walk home. Canada could learn a few things… I met lots of nice travelers in the hostel and generally had a great stay. But the time came to leave, and I did so with a vengeance, a strong wind at my bike. What ensued were some of the most spectacular days ever.

This area of the Rhine is famous for its beauty, and it didn’t disappoint. This is the wine growing region, with castles on every other hilltop and quaint villages nestled in the valley bottoms. My pictures will have to testify to the true nature of the place, because I don’t have the words to describe it. Also, spring has sprung. Just like that. Green on the trees, blossoms, birds singing, the works. The spring had sprung in me too, and I rode hard all day. Which is good, because I had to make it to Koblenz, over 100 km away and I hadn’t gotten started until noon. I made it there just as dusk was falling and slept in a hostel located on the grounds of an old German castle on a hilltop. It was okay.

The next day I took it a lot more slowly, stopping for many breaks. I passed one of the few German castles that hasn’t been bombed or otherwise altered since its construction in the Middle Ages. I stopped there for lunch and, since you had to splurge for a tour of the inside, I chose to scramble my way around its walls looking at its outside. It feels a lot like a dream now.That night I stayed in a campground right on the water. The son of the owners is scheduled to head to Canada with three of his friends in May, so they bought me a beer and we talked about cultural differences (ie: beer prices and drinking on the street). The next day I got into more industrial areas that weren’t nearly as exciting. And, again, got badly lost. Also, the only campground around was closed, so I had to squat there. Thankfully I found a local grill where I ate half a deep fried chicken and pomme frits and a really big beer. That made me feel better.

I’ve started to meet other bike tourers now. Well, three. On April 2nd, just south of a place called Spayer, I crossed paths with a German fellow named Thorston and we ended up riding together for a few days, into France and on to Strasbourg. It was really nice to have the company, and his grasp of the German language got us through a difficult section of trail full of detours due to construction.

Strasbourg was okay, but I have determined that you need two of three things to have a good time there: the ability to speak French, disposable income, or friends. All of which I am in short supply of at the moment. So I left after a day of exploration. What I found in front of me was the most quiet low-maintenance stretch of trail so far. I barely saw anyone, and even though there was a strong headwind all day, I enjoyed the solitude and freedom. My pace is easy now, and I am not rushing anywhere. I have aches and pains, but movement cures all.

And now I am in Frieburg, my transition point between the Rhine and Danube Rivers. I have been fortunate enough to line up a couchsurfing host named Cathie, and it has been such a wonderful experience. So much cooler than a hostel. I will spend a few days here getting mentally prepared and then head into the Black Forest to find the headwaters of my next river companion.

For those of you who read this far: I bit you adieu.

The Devomobile

PS: For the purposes of historical accuracy, I need to correct a mistake in my last missive. Romans did indeed pave their roads. But I guess somewhere along the way their empire fell apart and subsequent authorities did not keep up a proper maintenance schedule. Thus, the nice Roman pavement turned to dust. Likely the same dust which covered my tires and wore my brake pads down to little nubs.