Grogily pointed to the West

July 29, 2018

Day 8: Tübingen - Pforzheim. Rivers followed: Würm, Enz

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I slept rather late, and awoke feeling rather worse-for-wear: totally self inflicted, of course. We had a leisurely breakfast on the sunny balcony, and I gathered up my bits and pieces to be ferried up to the bike, which was safely locked outside. I elected not to pack the (further) pasta I'd bought, so donated it to my gracious host.

Ben helped me pick a route to the North: there were abundant cycle routes through the forest we'd walked through yesterday that would keep me away from both the main roads and Stuttgart, but annoyingly my high-resolution cycle map only started half way through. I had only the vaguest of plans - I wanted to head back towards the Rhine and Karlsruhe - but I had done my stretch in the mountains now and had no desire to re-enter the Black Forest. With some study of the map, Ben spotted I could avoid the hilly area around Baden Baden by following the valley of the Würm, which appropriately wiggles through the hilly countryside and would take me at least to Pforzheim. I could pick this up from the village of Ehningen on the far side of the woods.

With the instructions to follow the signs to Herrenberg and then Hildrezhausen - I wrote them on my hand in somewhat smeary biro, as I had some doubts as to my navigational ability this morning, I prepared to set off. It was past 11am, and Ben waved me off as I wobbled up the road to the edge of the city.

I was soon freewheeling downhill down leafy tracks, and feeling somewhat more wholesome. I quickly picked up cycleway signs to Herrenburg, and with some relief that not too much brain activity was needed for navigation, and appreciating the novelty of the gentle downhill gradient I pedalled leisurely through the woods, being passed by old and young alike but not minding much.

Impressive deer-proof gate coming through the forest

I spotted the turn off to Hildrezhausen surprisingly easily, and before long was through the woods and into the pretty village. Rather amazed by my progress, I stopped to take stock, and saw an information sign indicating the start of the Würm trail. Well, this was easy - I found it no problem, and soon following the distinctive river-bend signs through open countryside.

Cool church, sundial and sculpture in Hildrizhausen. To the right, there's what looks very much like a public drinking fountain, but is in fact only a fountain in the shape of one and is Keine Trinkwasser. Not that that stopped me...

The route soon became rough dirt, but at my low pace that suited me fine. What I wasn't to know was that I was about to enter a kind of German, pastoral, Bermuda triangle. Like my headache, I probably only had myself to blame in the befuddled state of my navigation - but it certainly seemed to me at the time that the signs had been misarranged for my own personal cycling purgatory.

The root of my problem was that many cycle routes, with their own distinctive signs and symbols, followed the same course: and the signs would alternate, even at turn offs, making it easy to miss a turn I needed to take to remain with the Würm. As I was still off the edge of my good map I couldn't check my position, and this must have what led me astray.

I continued on my jolly way, and soon was climbing up a considerable hill into a town which I felt sure must be Ehningen. I doggedly followed the signs through odd, new build suburbia, and then hammered down onto the main road and centre of town at my first opportunity. Immediately it clear I'd gone astray: I saw a sign pointing back the way I'd come, and saying Ehningen was 4km away.

No matter: I backtracked, and was soon out of town again. I picked up the signs, and set off over the open fields. Underneath a giant water tower, I ate a modest lunch and re-hydrated. I then picked my way over rough tracks through lovely rolling, if quite tiring scenery.

Descending into the town I felt sure I must have made progress. I flashed past a cycle route sign, slammed on the brakes, and returned to it. Hildrezhausen, 3km. How? I had been cycling for more than an hour, and had almost completed a huge circle. Very puzzled now, I spent some time looking at my map, and trying to avoid being given directions by some persistently helpful locals. I probably should've listened to them.

So back up I went, back through the fields and past the water tower. It was now clear the big town was Holzgerlingen, and it seemed to be some sort of vortex, pulling me back into its orbit every time I tried to escape. Back down to the high street I went, then back up - annoyingly, I was still picking up the Würm cycleway signs, but was starting to doubt their accuracy. It soon became clear that the only way to leave Holzgerlinger was back the way I'd came.

Eventually, I reached a T junction which I'd disregarded on the way out. Turning back, I spotted a Würm cycleway sign pointing back the way I'd come - not the hardest to miss. In total, I'd cycled 14km out of my way and described almost a full circle, before backtracking. What a doughnut.

There were some nice sights along the way. I like these triffids

"Mother Nature" - a little on the nose, this. In the distance is the water tower under which I ate my lunch.

Exasperated now, and rather feeling last night's Mexicaners, I continued on the Würm cycleway. I knew I had a significant way to go before I could justify calling it a day, and the heat was now significant. Fortunately, the route was much easier to follow from here, and was mostly leafy and shaded. Soon I reached the fabled ground of Ehningen on the edge of my map, and could start to navigate properly.

I pedalled it slowly and in a bit of a daze, but made good progress until I reached Weil der Stadt. This was a rather picturesque place, which I blew through in short order: I wanted to make it to Pforzheim, at least.

Well, fate had other plans. As I cycled through a quiet industrial area and sports grounds on the edge of town, I spent rather too long studying my newly-useful map and not enough on looking where I was going. I looked up just in time to see myself about to collide with an eccentrically huge kerb jutting out into the road. I was only going 10kph at most, but had no time to brake and hit the kerb square on with some impact. Rather embarrassed, but thinking no damage had been done, I continued on, only to hear a violent hissing and see my front tyre collapse.

Ah well, I thought, a puncture is the least I deserve for that lapse. I only hoped the tyre itself wasn't too badly damaged. I pulled off the road and took shelter from the sun in the entrance to a sports club. Off came the wheel, and the tyre, which had an obvious bash from the impact but thankfully looked intact. The tube had a very clear gash down it, obviously a pinch from the collision. I certainly wasn't going to attempt to patch it, especially with two spare unused tubes in my panniers.

It was only as I examined the rim to make sure nothing sharp remained to create more punctures that I saw the bigger problem. The rim itself - a tough double-walled Mavic A319 - had been seriously bashed, and (strangely) was quite seriously deformed on the side. I was at first amazed that such a minor impact had done such damage, and annoyed at myself.

At first sight, I thought the wheel was a write-off, and I'd need to figure a way to buy another one. I have cycled with a lot of substandard and flaky equipment, but dodgy front wheels are another matter. But closer inspection was more reassuring - rather than deform the bed of the tyre bead, only the strong part of the walling seemed to be bent. There were no cracks, or any other signs of failure. I certainly wasn't keen on trying to bend it back, but I figured I could at least ride it slowly, until I'd further assessed the damage.

To add to the fun of this, the entrance to the sports centre was quite heavily used, and I had to apologetically move bike parts out of the way a few times. I was also pestered by the - admittedly friendly - town drunks, who looked pretty puzzled about what I was doing, then enthusiastically suggested we should all go for a beer. "Yeah, if I only didn't have to do this..." was all I could muster in response...

It was now rather late afternoon, and I continued my wobble towards Pforzheim. On the bike, the tyre seemed to be well bedded onto the rim, but the wheel had certainly gone rather out of true. On the plus side, there was no sign at all of any damage to the spokes or hub and I didn't think it was likely to kill me on the flat and at low speed.

There were some cool geometrical sculptures woven into the trees like Escher drawings. I was sufficiently put-out by my mishaps that I didn't appreciate these as much as I should, so I'm glad I have one photo at least...

A frankly terrible photo of part of the city wall in Weil der Stadt, just before I clobbered my front wheel by cycling into a kerb while not looking where I was going

Despite my mishaps, it was a beautiful evening, and conditions were good. This was fortunate, as I had to make 30km into Pforzheim, and wanted to get further to find somewhere agreeable to stay. I could see two plausible campsites marked on my "good" - i.e. official ADFC - cycle map: one 10km or so to the West of Pforzheim, and then if I had the energy, another further on near Karlsbad. If I could reach the latter, I could legitimately claim to have made it to the environs of Karlsruhe, which under the circumstances (hungover, lost, bashed) wouldn't have been bad going. Even the first campsite would be fine - but I had 40km before I could call it a day.

The way into Pforzheim passed in a (slow) haze. The river was pleasant, and lots of local kids were bathing along the banks on the warm, Sunday evening. The cycleway had a good surface now, and followed the Würm's meanders as it slowly descended. It's a shame I wasn't more receptive to the lovely surroundings - I have no photos of this stretch.

Pforzheim is a bit of a sprawl, and I got through the centre as quickly as possible - I would have stopped to pick up provisions, but it was a Sunday and most places were shut. Thankfully I found signs out to Neuenburg and the West relatively easily. At this point I was frankly exhausted, and figured I would go no further than the campsite, which should be less than 10km away.

The cycleway West of Pforzheim followed the banks of the pretty river Enz, through lovely leafy forest. Exhausted as I was, I found myself eyeing the flat, secluded areas beneath these steep banks. If they weren't right under the cycleway they'd be idyllic camping spots. Hmmm.

In truth I had my doubts about the campsite on the ADFC map - it didn't correspond to anything on my (so far reliable) Michelin map, and it seemed a bit of an out-the-way place. So when I emerged by the main road near the turn to Engelsbrand, I wasn't totally surprised to see - a junkyard, a low-rent casino and a bizarre mural (pictured), and not much else. There was an ancient sign saying campingplatz, but obviously nowhere to physically camp.

I was quite done at 90km, and cycling to the next campsite was out of the question. It was such a nice evening, it seemed the most natural thing in the world to work my way back to a secluded bit of bank, and then drop down to the flat area underneath. I had a bit of a job getting the Shift down there, but once I did I lay out in the sun and dozed, thinking I looked pretty natural. Given how close to the cycleway I was, I was only going to put the tent up just before the sun went. I figured that if I didn't show any artificial light, I would be rather hard to see - and who would think of scrambling down the banks in the dark?

To pass the time, I read, collected water from the Enz and used it to cook up some pasta. With the Snackentomates and cheese from the supermarket yesterday, it made a filling meal. I sterilized further river water and drunk it freely: it was fast flowing and very clear, so even though it came flowing from Pforzheim, looked pretty wholesome.

Bike traffic on the cycleway above me was pretty thin, and those cyclists passing through zipped past and I thought had little chance of seeing me. As dusk came down after 8.30pm the number of passers by unsurprisingly dwindled - though I was unsettled by a girl walking dreamily by, singing sweetly to herself in the gathering dark.

As it was threatening to become to dark to see, at 9 or so I put the tent up on a grassy patch. I knew I'd have to get up early, so wasted no time in passing out, with the gurgle of the river nearby.

Somewhat unfortunate translation here. The legend says something like: "If you can't show who you are, it doesn't mean you are not recognized, that you are not respected - and certainly that you do not exist!!!"

My final campsite, tucked down by the backs of the Enz

Today's ride: 91 km (57 miles)
Total: 700 km (435 miles)

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