September 9, 2022
To Vimbuch
There was a little girl,
Who had a little curl,
Right in the middle of her forehead.
When she was good,
She was very good indeed,
But when she was bad she was horrid.
-Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
It was a day of contrasts. Bittersweet because it was the last day that Suzanne and I would be cycling together, ending what had thus far been an outstanding joint adventure in the Black Forest. We’d had three wonderful and varied days, pleasantly surprised by the unexpected charm of small towns and more sunshine than was predicted. We weren’t quite sure what today would bring, either in terms of the route or the weather. Our route north through the Upper Rhine Valley would pass through some of the larger towns of the tour, which might mean long stretches alongside busy highways – safe, but not very interesting cycling. As for the weather, a duo of rain showers was predicted – one for late morning and another in the late afternoon. We considered delaying our start to perhaps catch a rain-free window, but it was cloudy and dry at 9 am so we hurriedly packed and were on our way.
The day turned out to be much better, and a little worse, than what we expected – when good, it was very good indeed; when bad, it was quite bad, but fell far short of horrid. For the most part we traveled on dedicated bike paths or small roads that kept us far from the major highway. And though we set out under a cloudy sky, the sun broke out after just a few miles, illuminating fields of drying corn and row after row of fruit trees. It was delightful.
We came to the small town of Gengenbach under a brilliant blue sky, passing through the archway into a town full of half-timbered houses, one of many such towns in the state of Baden-Württemberg. The town plaza was abuzz with small groups of supervised children engaged in simple activities and old fashioned games: marbles, coloring, jumping rope, and hit the pot. I was entranced, wandering about with the camera, or just quietly observing children at play, one of my favorite pastimes.
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Rain had been predicted for mid-to-late morning, and sure enough the skies began to cloud over soon after we left Gengenbach. There was a light drizzle by the time we came to Ortenberg Castle, sitting atop a vineyard-wrapped hill. But rather than hurrying onward, we both stopped, got out our cameras, and began snapping away. Soon, however, the rain was steady enough to compel Suzanne to bring out her serious rain gear - I’d been wearing my rain jacket, and considered that sufficient protection. Wrong. Within a mile, the skies opened and we sought shelter under a tree, where I donned my booties, helmet cover and rain paints – the whole repertoire save my rain gloves.
We stood under the trees for a while, hoping the rain would ease, but preparing to forge ahead. There was a sudden voice from behind – a woman had poked her head out the window to offer us shelter in her covered patio. Thanking her profusely, we squeezed the bikes up the driveway and wedged ourselves next to the picnic table where the pounding of the rain on the plastic roof reinforced how hard it was raining. The downpour ended about ten minutes later, and after thanking our rain angel profusely, we continued on.
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2 years ago
It was a little over a mile to Offenberg, where we stopped to warm ourselves with hot chocolate and a panini. By the time we left some thirty minutes later, the sun had come out. We shed much of our rain gear and then enjoyed a magnificent fifteen miles through cropland and orchards. Heading north, the range of Black Forest that we’d recently traversed was to our right and the unseen Rhine to our left, with the Vosges Mountains of France visible in the distance. Giant clouds punctuated the blue sky, mostly white but with a dark underside that foretold of things to come. But for the time being, we relished our good fortune and the brilliance of our surroundings.
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1 year ago
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The skies continued to cloud up as we neared Vimrod, our stop for the night. With just about six miles to go, we came to a roadside stand selling a variety of squash, gourds and pumpkins – how could we not stop to take in such a splendid fall display. Before long, it started drizzling, forcing us to put away the cameras and hop on the bikes. In less than half a mile, a heavy downpour forced us once again to seek shelter under a tree. Suzanne got out her waterproof phone cover and discovered her phone had lost most of its power. Rather than troubleshooting the electronic malfunction in the rain, I gave her my charger and cord, but the phone was slow to charge. The rain had slowed to a drizzle, so we decided I should navigate using the audio cues from my phone, which I kept dry in the chest pocket of my rain jacket. Because I’d imported the route from Suzanne, I didn’t have turn by turn commands, but the off-course warning signal worked fine. It was a straightforward run along the cycle path to Bühl, but getting through the town looked to be a little complicated.
I set a quick pace to Bühl, one I didn’t realize exceeded the power assist limit of Suzanne’s e-bike. However, I did notice when she fell behind and never let the gap between us get too big. By the time we arrived in Bühl, the skies were clearing and I was able to put my phone back on the handlebars and navigate by sight. Bühl was in the middle of its four day annual Pflaumenfest, a Plum festival celebrating the purple fruit that brought it fame as a fruit growing region. It was a bit dodgy getting around the tents and displays, but we made it through town without mishap and soon arrived at out hotel in Vimbuch. It was a family run hotel, and I was happy to find a helpful receptionist that checked us in and escorted us to the bicycle storage shed.
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We’d made a reservation at the hotel restaurant for 7:30, and when I knocked on Suzanne’s door she anxiously asked if I had her power charger. She couldn’t find in anywhere amongst her belongings and hoped I’d put it in my bag when I gave her mine. Unfortunately, it was lost, probably under the trees where we stopped in the rain. At dinner, we discussed plans for tomorrow – we both had planned to ride our bikes to our respective train stations, mine in Strasbourg and Suzanne’s in Karlsruhe, from where we would depart for home. The bicycle part of the journey was roughly 60 km for each of us, with Suzanne’s trip being a little longer. Weather predictions were for rain all day, and Suzanne was hesitant about cycling that distance in the rain without a power pack. She was pretty settled on taking a train from Bühl to Karlsruhe while I agreed to look at train options to Strasbourg, and revisit our plans in the morning.
Once plans for tomorrow were tabled, we moved on to other topics – such as how much we’d enjoyed the last few days and how we would very much like to repeat the experience of touring together. We were very compatible touring companions, enjoying a similar pace and rhythm to the day. I had trouble keeping up with Suzanne’s e-bike on the hills, but could make up for it on the downhills and we were pretty even in the flats. Most importantly, decisions were made effortlessly and we found lots to talk and laugh about. It was great fun and I am very much looking forward to another joint adventure.
Today's ride: 37 miles (60 km)
Total: 2,692 miles (4,332 km)
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