Germany - Acclimating to a New Land

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Bocholt roundabout. Photo caption: Belgium Barb

40 Miles – Friday, August 19

We spent the last of the Guilder on lunch food and apple tarts at a bakery, then crossed the German border. Like entering any country, signs change. Andy photographed me beside an empty border inspection station, presumably unused since the formation of the European Union.

Bike path near Bocholt.  Photo credit: CS.UNCA

I wasn’t looking forward to pedaling in Germany, fearing the wonderful cycling paths would abruptly come to a halt. But the continuing trail network surprised me. We spent 2 hours in Bocholt withdrawing the local currency and locating a map, all the while stumbling with the language. At an international city bank we miraculously withdrew – for the first time – currency directly from an Auto Geld machine (ATM). We were surprised. For 6 weeks we’d made sure the banks were open to utilize our VISA card. That buoyed our spirits. There are approximately 1.58 Marks to the U.S. Dollar. Eventually we pedaled eastward through more flat farmland. 

So far, some people speak a bit of English, which has helped. Cashiers at grocery stores often point to the register. We need to learn a few numbers in German.

Farmhouses and attached barns. Photo credit: DB City

The use of brick for construction is striking. Enormous farmhouses are attached to brickwork barns. All churches are also made of masonry – only the steeple is metal. Entire villages look like a red Lego masterpiece.

We cruise through Bratwurst country. Or at least we think we do. The strong smoked pork aroma permeates the air. And following shortly thereafter the stench of pig excrement is downright foul. For my vegetarian husband – even for myself – the smell is overwhelming. It’s enough to make us move faster.

Photo credit: Bocholt for cyclists

In the past couple of days, Andy and I have been plagued with a stomach virus. Thankfully, it’s getting better day by day.

We have problems consuming enough water. It’s difficult to hydrate when we stop ever half-hour to relieve ourselves. I attribute it to the bumpy bike paths – it’s hard to pedal with a full bladder. Public toilets have been non-existent on the European continent. We’re accustomed to using the woods before or after entering a town.

Camping tonight is 15 marks, without showers. Since entering France showers have been pay-as-you-go. If it hasn’t been hot, we take one every two or three days.

Early Bird Gets the Worm

Ah, you can't beat the scent of cherry and apple blossoms. Lately my commute is filled with wonderful trees in bloom, cool mornings, even the mist brings its own earthy smells.

Lilacs are heady; heavy heads sway in the breeze.

Crab apple orchard is a pink and white delight.

Beside the road solitary yellow wispy flowers spring forth.

Lots of daffodils. The sounds of tractors and lawn mowers.

Tenacious violets that come back year after year.

I even love the profusion of dandelions. I know my husband will be mowing soon to eradicate the strong yellow heads. Me, I call 'em natural beauty.

When I shift into lower gears to make the last climb to my workplace I glance downward. Oh yuck. There's a mangled worm on the bottom bracket. Another sign of Spring. It's enough to make me cry. Or laugh. Because without our friend the worm, we wouldn't have nature's artistry.

Commuting Without a Pump

Topeak Mini Morph.  Photo credit: Topeak

I removed the handlebar bag from the Miyata after the last ride with my friend and went about the usual business of reorganizing for the next ride, which is on the Trek. I'm not a morning person so, with the added duties of being a parent and getting the kids off to school, I set the bike up ahead of time. I transfer the tool bag, etc. to panniers. It was then that I realized my mini-pump was in two pieces. Actually, the shaft broke. Yikes. No fixing this thing.

I've owned the pump for many years. It's been a silent companion—insurance actually—for the times when I really need it, so it'll be replaced soon with a Topeak Morph. I gave one to the Hub a year ago after someone helped fix my flat on an organized tour, then easily inflated my tire with a Topeak. The Morph series of pumps packs a high pressure punch in a little package, with a flip up lever and foot peg to resemble a floor pump. No more sweat inducing, arm hurting maneuvers, repeated 150 times. Gotta have one of my own.

What an innovative idea: flip out handle
and foot peg for ease of use.
Photo credit: Topeak

Until then, I've been mostly commuting to work without a pump, unless I can snag my husbands. It's left me feeling a little anxious too. I've lost the ability to fix a flat tire, which I realize, rarely happens en route. I've worked 11 miles from home for over ten years and can count on one hand the times I repaired the tube on the side of the road. Knock on wood. But still, I'm left vulnerable to calling for assistance, should the inevitable happen, which necessitates a car trip for rescue. I hate that. I've lost my independence.

Funny I don't feel this way about the girly bike. I hardly ever tote the pump when I ride the Ross. I stay closer to home, always within a short walk to a bus ride.

Have to replace my mini friend soon. And then there is the helmet, which is breathing its last breath. Oy vey.

Smithsonian Castle Garden Sign

I walked to the garden behind the Smithsonian Castle in Washington D.C. and spied this fun sign.

The sign was raised or embossed on the stone path; its message loud and clear.

Foldable Versus Fixed Bead Tires

I've come across "folding tires" and "wire bead" terminology used in conjunction with ordering tires from online retailers. It seems there are options to choose from—confounding to new and seasoned riders alike.

This is the way we carried an extra tire. Photo credit: Slowtwitch

When I toured with my husband, we carried extra tires by folding each into a figure-eight, then strapping these onto our panniers. We didn't always purchase Kevlar tires, but any tire was "foldable" or fashioned to be smaller.

I prowled the Internet to find out the scoop. Livestrong.com has the most informative answer. Basically, all tires are beaded; the "bead" is the fabric-covered cord that makes up the inner circumference of the tire. Its function is to secure it to the rim. Lighter weight Kevlar is stronger and folds easier versus steel bead which is less expensive, primarily used on bikes sold on the showroom floor. Steel bead isn't an inferior product; it just means it will be heavier (approximately 2 oz.)—and if you understand that—it may actually be a financial advantage to buy the cheaper tire, especially where the minor weight difference isn't an issue.

Look at how small this baby can get! Photo credit: FatBmx

From what I can discern, in the last ten years "foldable" tires (like the one pictured above) are fetching higher prices, marketed to bike tourers who carry an extra tire for backup as they literally can be folded and not looped. But come on, if you are on tour, hauling pounds of gear, what does 4 more ounces really matter? Fixed bead tires can also be looped into 3 tight circles as described here  on Sheldon Brown's site, which suits me just fine.