Day 37: Wednesday, 15 June 1983

Start: Campground, Delemont, Switzerland

End: Hostel, Basel, Switzerland

Yeah, tossed and turned in my sleeping bag all night worrying about the rack. Up early to try to figure out how to repair it well enough to get me into Basel. While I was incompetently tinkering with lashing everything together with a length of string I discovered near the campsite, an elderly Englishman stopped on his way back from the restroom to his campsite to see what I was doing.

The old guy is driving around Europe in a beat-up van, but he's a retired mechanic or engineer or something, and he has what appears to be a fully-stocked workshop in the back of his van. Looks like my dad's garage. With my permission -- like I'm going to say no! -- he takes a look at the snapped aluminum strut and then reaches into his toolbox. The whole process takes about five minutes. He bends a cable clamp snugly around the fracture like a splint, then wraps strong wire round and round the strut and splint, and finally he carefully twists and snips the wire so the ends won't rub against panniers, spokes, or anything else. Amazing! I try to pay him for the wizardry, but he refuses to accept a penny and wishes me well on my journey.

Maybe it's only because my worries have been lifted by the unexpected repair, but the ride into Basel seems to be all downhill with a tailwind.

Basel proves to be elegant and inviting. Terrific old buildings. Quiet streets. Neat and clean and bright. I find the youth hostel easily, but it doesn't open for awhile. I spread out all my dank, reeking stuff to dry on the grass. I doze in the sunshine and keep an eye on gear for a couple of other bikers who need to run some errands. When the hostel opens I devote my energy to the washer and dryer and then spend an inordinate amount of time wasting hot water in the shower. Later, a younger bicyclist introduces himself as "Ralph the German" and we hang out. We go for a reasonably-priced dinner and then find the "Club Atlantis" with a heavy metal German band named RAM. Not exactly my style of music, but it's a very enjoyable evening. Kind of Euro-collegiate with a mix of wavers, punkers, and '68-style longhairs. Everyone in garish kimonos and Nehru jackets and robes with long scarves and painted faces. I don't understand if this is a special costume night, or if this is just the way the night-time crowd dresses around here.

Beats worrying about a broken pannier rack.

Conditions 

Distance: 40 km  

Weather: Cool, tailwind 

Road: Good 

Traffic: Much heavier as I approach the city 

Terrain: Mostly downhill 

Mechanical: Front pannier rack fixed 

Physical: Feeling strong