dimrub
Über Member
Apologies for a lengthy into full of trivia well known to everyone on this forum, the reason is that I'm copying it from my personal blog, where it can be (potentially) read by laymen.
It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a man in possession of a bicycle, must be in want of a worthy travel goal. Nobody knows why is this the case, but in my opinion at least, the proposition of riding around and about on random roads and paths, no matter how picturesque, seems much less attractive than, say, riding from the Atlantic to the Black Sea. And just so it happens that that's exactly what we are trying to do, me and Daniel my eldest.
Back in 2019, when we rode along the Danube from Passau on the German-Austrian border to Vienna (340 km) we just wanted to ride somewhere where, as we knew, great infrastructure existed for cyclists. Daniel was then 14 years old, and on some of the climbs I had to stop and wait for him, sometimes providing encouragement (jumping ahead, the roles have reversed by now). Next year we decided to explore the German side of the River, from Ulm to Passau (403 km) - at this point we realized that from a chance Destination the Danube has become a Goal, and this year we found a way to incorporate this Goal into a bigger one. And this Goal is called Eurovelo 6.
See, there exists a network of pan-European cycling highways called Eurovelo. Calling them highways might sound like a bit of a misnomer, given that in many places they are manifested on the ground by nothing more than a sign at a street corner, and in others they stitch together various local bicycle paths and routes, but nevertheless they have their identities and they have the span that can give a run for its money to many an actual highway. One such a route is called Eurovelo 6, and it is also called the "route of the rivers", because it passes along the three great European rivers: the Loire, the Rhine and the Danube. Supposedly, it's one of the most popular cycling routes in Europe.
We were now well on our way towards covering EV6 in stages, so this year we decided to continue in the same venue, and finish at Ulm, backtracking based on whatever reasonable distance we can cover in a week. Given that this inevitably meant some substantial climbs, we decided to limit ourselves to just a modest increase in distance compared to the previous year, so after some vigorous mucking around with Komoot, the route was determined. It had its start in Mulhouse, France, it then went through Basel and other Swiss cities on the Rhine, reached the Constance Lake (also known as the Bodensee) and then went over the Rhine-Danube watershed towards Tuttlingen upon the Danube, whereupon we were faced with a choice: either continue downstream the Danube, thus skipping 20-some kilometers of the river upstream from Tuttlingen, or take a train to Donaueschingen, considered the location of one of several official sources of the Danube, then ride downstream. This route was supposed to result in about 450 km of distance and slightly more than 3000 m of elevation gain.
The original plan was to fly in late March, during the Passover vacation, but geopolitics interfered. The war in Ukraine caused many a plan to get postponed or canceled, including our little adventure. Finally, with Daniel's school over, we were able to reschedule - to late July - early August. There were some minute concerns about travelling in the peak season, and somewhat heftier concerns about the record heat wave washing over Europe, but we pushed on, planning, making reservations, preparing our gear.
Last year we flew into Munich, rented the bicycles there, did our trip, returned to Munich, returned the bicycles and flew back. This year we were flying through a single city too - Zurich this time - so I considered renting bicycles again. Alas, this was first of many times when we discovered that prices in Switzerland are much higher than in any of the surrounding countries. Renting a half decent bicycle would cost us almost twice as much bringing our own. So we decided to bring our own. In case of Daniel this also meant buying a new bicycle for him, since he decidedly grew out of his old MTB, which is not a good fit for this kind of trips anyway. It also meant arranding for bicycles to be transported. Luckily for us, one exception to the rule "everything is more expensive in Switzerland" is flying with a bicycle using Swiss Airlines, which turned out to be free. To be exact, you can send your bicycle instead of a suitcase, as part of your luggage alottment, and this is exactly what we did. We looted a nearby bicycle store for boxes, packed our bicycles in them, and drove to the airport with the bicycles in the back of my Hyundai Ioniq.
The departure hall was packed with people. We, with our bicycle boxes on the trolley added our fair share to the conjestion. Luckily, when I pointed out to the attendants that we will not be able to navigate the line with our oversized luggage, we were given the go-ahead at least towards the security check, bypassing the line. Then it was the check-in line, where luggage stickers were slapped on our boxes, then off to another line for oversized luggage, where more stickers were slapped, and finally I moved the boxes to another trolley inside the elevator for oversized luggage, and we said goodbye to the bikes, hoping to meet them safe and sound on the other side.
With enough time to even grab a quick lunch at the food court, we arrived at the gate in plenty of time. I'm usually travelling with a carry-on, so I'm trying to be among the first to board, in order to find a convenient spot for my luggage. This time it was just one pannier with a shoulder strap and one handlebar bag, so no hurry. We took off almost on time, and landed in time, with nothing extraordinary in-between. And once we reached the luggage hall and passed by trolleys upon trolleys full with luggage (probably belonging to people who waited for their luggage in vain and went home luggage-less), we found our bicycles already waiting for us.
We unpacked and put them together - and lo! Everything was in perfect working order. We each made a small mistake with our bikes. Daniel has attached the rear rack so that it was not exactly parallel to the ground - it caused no noticeable problems throughout our trip. Whereas I attached my handlebar too low, and the saddle - too high, which caused some problems down the road - I felt numbness in my fingers. My lesson - mark everything on the bicycle, so as not to think where everything goes during the reassembly. Anyway, in no time we were out of the actual airport, and into the mall. We dropped into a supermarket, bought some snacks for the evening, discovered how expensive everything was, and went downstairs, to wait for a train to Basel, where we were staying for the night.
It is said that the Swiss train system is a paragon of exactitude, a real national symbol, on par with cheese, chocolate and cute red penknives. But beginner's luck has intervened, and we waited for our train for almost half an hour on top of the designated time. Finally it was here, so we boarded it, and were on our way. There was just one issue: turns out we had to buy not just a ticket for ourselves, but also one for our bikes. This was explained to us by a conductor, who then proceeded to collect this fee (with a bit over, for "just in time" service).
Finally, we're in Basel, and it's pretty late-o-clock. Luckily, our hotel is just next door from the station, so we quickly check-in, discover we can't recharge our electronics due to Swiss having their own electricity plugs, and go to sleep. After a reasonably early breakfast, we packed up and checked out. Due to some mishap with the schedule we still had about 40 minutes before the train to Mulhouse, so we climbed a hill nearby and took in the first landscape of the trip.
Back at the station, we went straight to the train, with plenty of time, or so we thought. The first car we tried to board was full: no place for our bikes. So was the second. We were running out of cars, so we boarded the last one, lack of any place for our bikes whatsoever be damned, and stayed in the vestibule. This was a first class car, so we decided against leaving our bikes and taking a seat. Here's another lesson: when travelling with a bike by train in Europe, especially during a high season, board the train as soon as it's there, otherwise you may well end up missing it, due to the limited number of bike spots.
A conductor came through, saw us stuck in the vestibule like a fishbone in a throat, with our bikes almost but not entirely blocking the passage, realized we hardly speak any French, and left us be. Soon we were over the border and not long afterwards the train pulled into Mulhouse. Our next challenge was leaving the train station. The exit was on a level above that of the platform. There was an elevator, but it was too small for a bicycle. We ended up taking the stairs, with our loaded bikes. Welcome to France!
Anyway, once out of the station, and away from the people smoking nearby, we were finally on our bikes, and soon were riding alongside the canal, sometimes losing it for a while in favor of residential areas. There were quite a few other cyclists, mostly road bikers speeding by us on their training rides, but also some long rangers like ourselves. The heat was not oppresive, and we were enjoying ourselves. Soon we were at Pont du Bouc, where one of the heated battles of World War II took place. On our side of the channel was a gun, one of those that lobbed tens of thousands of mortars at the enemy on that day, and on the other side - a tank. We then continued to another important landmark - an ALDI.
Daniel has this fascination with european discount networks. Whenever he sees an ALDI or a LIDL sign, his eyes light up and he insists on making a stop. This time I had no objection: clearly it was better to stop for shopping on this side of the border with Switzerland. So we diverted off our route towards the ALDI south of Kembs. And a good thing we did. As we were passing Kembs, we suddenly heard music playing over megaphones from behind, and a sound of many engines. We realized that some kind of procession is overtaking us, and stopped to watch. Car after car passed by, at close to walking speed, and in every one a person riding shotgun threw out - at us - something: a few toffies, a journal, a key ring, a bag or a can of soft drink. I later looked up: apparently, this all was part of the festivities due to Tour Alsace.
https://photos.google.com/photo/AF1QipO4B-iMORDTN_rHaxexzntATI-oQzv9EL3pDyyK
Once the procession was gone, we finally made it to ALDI, bought all we needed, and then did our way back towards the route, continuing along Canal de Huningue. Soon I noticed some signage, which we recognized as a planets trail. Alas, this one was not as well developed as the one we passed last year, near Vilshofen an der Danube (see? This one even has a dedicated web site). Still, these are fun to ride by, waiting for the next planet to appear.
The choice of the planet coincidental, no pun or stupid joke was indended.
There being only 8 planets, we soon ran out, and Basel began. We crossed a couple of bridges (me getting slightly disoriented for a moment there), and soon were riding along boulevard lining the embankments, along railway tracks leading into industrial zones, along quiet residental areas until finally we made it to another bridge, full of pedestrians and cyclists, decorated with lots and lots of Swiss flags (took us 2 full days to realize why), leaving no doubt that we're in the very center of Basel (I looked it up now. It's called, quite creatively, the "middle bridge").
We planned to stop and explore the city, so we locked the bikes on the other side of the bridge, and declared a consult. Daniel noticed there is a whole lot of people in the water, floating on a rather strong current underneath us, holding to some kind of buoys. We crossed back to the northern side of the river and found a sign. Apparently, this is what the locals (the Baselites?) do when it's as hot as it is now: they plop into the water with a buoy that goes for 20 CHF, then float for a while, then get out of the river again, still in the allowed territory. Daniel immediately decided he needs to do this too. Buoys were not to be had, and he didn't bring a swimming suit, so in he went in his pants, and I followed him from the shore.
Next we sat at a riverside cafe, enjoying our platter of cheese and charcouterie, with some nice lemonade, and then, with Daniel partially dry, went to explore the city. I think we didn't do it justice with making just a small round of the very center, only going into the cathedral and stopping for bubble tea, but still, we got an impression of a fun and vibrant city.
We now had a challenge ahead of us: leaving this vibrant city while in one piece. We were riding on very busy streets, with lots of cars, not to mention trams. However, it's the way it always is: one moment you're in the center of a city, fighting traffic, navigating through your gritted teeth, then boom - you're out of it, riding through a field, or a forest, or along a canal. This time there was a short intermediate step of some kind of summer party and the hoardes of youths flocking to it regardless of cycling traffic, but never mind that, we were soon in the suburbs interspersed with wide green parks, and about an hour later - in Rheinsfelden, our destination for today. Well, to be exact, we rode through Rheinsfelden, over the Rhine bridge, and into the German city of Rheinsfelden (Baden), where we soon found our hotel, thanks to Napoleon Buonoparte.
I should probably explain. Up until the beginning of the 19th century this whole area, including both banks of the Rhine, belonged to Switzerland, which was then a loose confederation of the constituent cantons. At some point during his tumultous rise to power, Napoleon has attacked, then conquered Switzerland, and the Helvetic Republic, friendly to France, was founded. Napoleon has also founded the Rhine Confederation, made up of several German states strung along the Rhine (so he was the first unifier of Germany, some half century before Bismarck) and perhaps for reasons of simplicity, perhaps for some other reason, he decided that the new border between the Republic and the Confederation will be the middle of the river Rhine. This means that quite a few riverside cities and towns, sprawled across both banks of the river, were now divided, each sprawling its own bank. This also means that a modern tourist has the option of travelling along the Southern, more interesting bank, but sleeping, eating and shopping across the river, in Germany, where everything is oh so much cheaper. Why don't businesses on the Swiss side of the border stay in business is a mystery to me.
So stay on the German side we did. This night in particular we were staying at a hotel which grew out of a Chinese restaurant. I think this was the best hotel we had on this trip - it even had an A/C! Daniel was exhausted, so he stayed at the hotel. As for me, alerted by the word 'Baden' in the name of the town, I checked whether there are any thermal baths around - and there were! Nothing like a sauna at the end of a day in the saddle, so I walked back into Switzerland, and into the spa center there. When I got back, Daniel was fast asleep, and wouldn't rise for dinner, so I went all by myself to the Chinese restaurant downstairs, and it was wonderful: a chinese style duck and a glass of cold wine on an outside terrase with candles on the tables and sun out of the picture - a perfect ending for a perfect first day of the trip.
To be continued...
It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a man in possession of a bicycle, must be in want of a worthy travel goal. Nobody knows why is this the case, but in my opinion at least, the proposition of riding around and about on random roads and paths, no matter how picturesque, seems much less attractive than, say, riding from the Atlantic to the Black Sea. And just so it happens that that's exactly what we are trying to do, me and Daniel my eldest.
Back in 2019, when we rode along the Danube from Passau on the German-Austrian border to Vienna (340 km) we just wanted to ride somewhere where, as we knew, great infrastructure existed for cyclists. Daniel was then 14 years old, and on some of the climbs I had to stop and wait for him, sometimes providing encouragement (jumping ahead, the roles have reversed by now). Next year we decided to explore the German side of the River, from Ulm to Passau (403 km) - at this point we realized that from a chance Destination the Danube has become a Goal, and this year we found a way to incorporate this Goal into a bigger one. And this Goal is called Eurovelo 6.
See, there exists a network of pan-European cycling highways called Eurovelo. Calling them highways might sound like a bit of a misnomer, given that in many places they are manifested on the ground by nothing more than a sign at a street corner, and in others they stitch together various local bicycle paths and routes, but nevertheless they have their identities and they have the span that can give a run for its money to many an actual highway. One such a route is called Eurovelo 6, and it is also called the "route of the rivers", because it passes along the three great European rivers: the Loire, the Rhine and the Danube. Supposedly, it's one of the most popular cycling routes in Europe.
We were now well on our way towards covering EV6 in stages, so this year we decided to continue in the same venue, and finish at Ulm, backtracking based on whatever reasonable distance we can cover in a week. Given that this inevitably meant some substantial climbs, we decided to limit ourselves to just a modest increase in distance compared to the previous year, so after some vigorous mucking around with Komoot, the route was determined. It had its start in Mulhouse, France, it then went through Basel and other Swiss cities on the Rhine, reached the Constance Lake (also known as the Bodensee) and then went over the Rhine-Danube watershed towards Tuttlingen upon the Danube, whereupon we were faced with a choice: either continue downstream the Danube, thus skipping 20-some kilometers of the river upstream from Tuttlingen, or take a train to Donaueschingen, considered the location of one of several official sources of the Danube, then ride downstream. This route was supposed to result in about 450 km of distance and slightly more than 3000 m of elevation gain.
The original plan was to fly in late March, during the Passover vacation, but geopolitics interfered. The war in Ukraine caused many a plan to get postponed or canceled, including our little adventure. Finally, with Daniel's school over, we were able to reschedule - to late July - early August. There were some minute concerns about travelling in the peak season, and somewhat heftier concerns about the record heat wave washing over Europe, but we pushed on, planning, making reservations, preparing our gear.
Last year we flew into Munich, rented the bicycles there, did our trip, returned to Munich, returned the bicycles and flew back. This year we were flying through a single city too - Zurich this time - so I considered renting bicycles again. Alas, this was first of many times when we discovered that prices in Switzerland are much higher than in any of the surrounding countries. Renting a half decent bicycle would cost us almost twice as much bringing our own. So we decided to bring our own. In case of Daniel this also meant buying a new bicycle for him, since he decidedly grew out of his old MTB, which is not a good fit for this kind of trips anyway. It also meant arranding for bicycles to be transported. Luckily for us, one exception to the rule "everything is more expensive in Switzerland" is flying with a bicycle using Swiss Airlines, which turned out to be free. To be exact, you can send your bicycle instead of a suitcase, as part of your luggage alottment, and this is exactly what we did. We looted a nearby bicycle store for boxes, packed our bicycles in them, and drove to the airport with the bicycles in the back of my Hyundai Ioniq.
The departure hall was packed with people. We, with our bicycle boxes on the trolley added our fair share to the conjestion. Luckily, when I pointed out to the attendants that we will not be able to navigate the line with our oversized luggage, we were given the go-ahead at least towards the security check, bypassing the line. Then it was the check-in line, where luggage stickers were slapped on our boxes, then off to another line for oversized luggage, where more stickers were slapped, and finally I moved the boxes to another trolley inside the elevator for oversized luggage, and we said goodbye to the bikes, hoping to meet them safe and sound on the other side.
With enough time to even grab a quick lunch at the food court, we arrived at the gate in plenty of time. I'm usually travelling with a carry-on, so I'm trying to be among the first to board, in order to find a convenient spot for my luggage. This time it was just one pannier with a shoulder strap and one handlebar bag, so no hurry. We took off almost on time, and landed in time, with nothing extraordinary in-between. And once we reached the luggage hall and passed by trolleys upon trolleys full with luggage (probably belonging to people who waited for their luggage in vain and went home luggage-less), we found our bicycles already waiting for us.
We unpacked and put them together - and lo! Everything was in perfect working order. We each made a small mistake with our bikes. Daniel has attached the rear rack so that it was not exactly parallel to the ground - it caused no noticeable problems throughout our trip. Whereas I attached my handlebar too low, and the saddle - too high, which caused some problems down the road - I felt numbness in my fingers. My lesson - mark everything on the bicycle, so as not to think where everything goes during the reassembly. Anyway, in no time we were out of the actual airport, and into the mall. We dropped into a supermarket, bought some snacks for the evening, discovered how expensive everything was, and went downstairs, to wait for a train to Basel, where we were staying for the night.
It is said that the Swiss train system is a paragon of exactitude, a real national symbol, on par with cheese, chocolate and cute red penknives. But beginner's luck has intervened, and we waited for our train for almost half an hour on top of the designated time. Finally it was here, so we boarded it, and were on our way. There was just one issue: turns out we had to buy not just a ticket for ourselves, but also one for our bikes. This was explained to us by a conductor, who then proceeded to collect this fee (with a bit over, for "just in time" service).
Finally, we're in Basel, and it's pretty late-o-clock. Luckily, our hotel is just next door from the station, so we quickly check-in, discover we can't recharge our electronics due to Swiss having their own electricity plugs, and go to sleep. After a reasonably early breakfast, we packed up and checked out. Due to some mishap with the schedule we still had about 40 minutes before the train to Mulhouse, so we climbed a hill nearby and took in the first landscape of the trip.
Back at the station, we went straight to the train, with plenty of time, or so we thought. The first car we tried to board was full: no place for our bikes. So was the second. We were running out of cars, so we boarded the last one, lack of any place for our bikes whatsoever be damned, and stayed in the vestibule. This was a first class car, so we decided against leaving our bikes and taking a seat. Here's another lesson: when travelling with a bike by train in Europe, especially during a high season, board the train as soon as it's there, otherwise you may well end up missing it, due to the limited number of bike spots.
A conductor came through, saw us stuck in the vestibule like a fishbone in a throat, with our bikes almost but not entirely blocking the passage, realized we hardly speak any French, and left us be. Soon we were over the border and not long afterwards the train pulled into Mulhouse. Our next challenge was leaving the train station. The exit was on a level above that of the platform. There was an elevator, but it was too small for a bicycle. We ended up taking the stairs, with our loaded bikes. Welcome to France!
Anyway, once out of the station, and away from the people smoking nearby, we were finally on our bikes, and soon were riding alongside the canal, sometimes losing it for a while in favor of residential areas. There were quite a few other cyclists, mostly road bikers speeding by us on their training rides, but also some long rangers like ourselves. The heat was not oppresive, and we were enjoying ourselves. Soon we were at Pont du Bouc, where one of the heated battles of World War II took place. On our side of the channel was a gun, one of those that lobbed tens of thousands of mortars at the enemy on that day, and on the other side - a tank. We then continued to another important landmark - an ALDI.
Daniel has this fascination with european discount networks. Whenever he sees an ALDI or a LIDL sign, his eyes light up and he insists on making a stop. This time I had no objection: clearly it was better to stop for shopping on this side of the border with Switzerland. So we diverted off our route towards the ALDI south of Kembs. And a good thing we did. As we were passing Kembs, we suddenly heard music playing over megaphones from behind, and a sound of many engines. We realized that some kind of procession is overtaking us, and stopped to watch. Car after car passed by, at close to walking speed, and in every one a person riding shotgun threw out - at us - something: a few toffies, a journal, a key ring, a bag or a can of soft drink. I later looked up: apparently, this all was part of the festivities due to Tour Alsace.
https://photos.google.com/photo/AF1QipO4B-iMORDTN_rHaxexzntATI-oQzv9EL3pDyyK
Once the procession was gone, we finally made it to ALDI, bought all we needed, and then did our way back towards the route, continuing along Canal de Huningue. Soon I noticed some signage, which we recognized as a planets trail. Alas, this one was not as well developed as the one we passed last year, near Vilshofen an der Danube (see? This one even has a dedicated web site). Still, these are fun to ride by, waiting for the next planet to appear.
There being only 8 planets, we soon ran out, and Basel began. We crossed a couple of bridges (me getting slightly disoriented for a moment there), and soon were riding along boulevard lining the embankments, along railway tracks leading into industrial zones, along quiet residental areas until finally we made it to another bridge, full of pedestrians and cyclists, decorated with lots and lots of Swiss flags (took us 2 full days to realize why), leaving no doubt that we're in the very center of Basel (I looked it up now. It's called, quite creatively, the "middle bridge").
We planned to stop and explore the city, so we locked the bikes on the other side of the bridge, and declared a consult. Daniel noticed there is a whole lot of people in the water, floating on a rather strong current underneath us, holding to some kind of buoys. We crossed back to the northern side of the river and found a sign. Apparently, this is what the locals (the Baselites?) do when it's as hot as it is now: they plop into the water with a buoy that goes for 20 CHF, then float for a while, then get out of the river again, still in the allowed territory. Daniel immediately decided he needs to do this too. Buoys were not to be had, and he didn't bring a swimming suit, so in he went in his pants, and I followed him from the shore.
Next we sat at a riverside cafe, enjoying our platter of cheese and charcouterie, with some nice lemonade, and then, with Daniel partially dry, went to explore the city. I think we didn't do it justice with making just a small round of the very center, only going into the cathedral and stopping for bubble tea, but still, we got an impression of a fun and vibrant city.
We now had a challenge ahead of us: leaving this vibrant city while in one piece. We were riding on very busy streets, with lots of cars, not to mention trams. However, it's the way it always is: one moment you're in the center of a city, fighting traffic, navigating through your gritted teeth, then boom - you're out of it, riding through a field, or a forest, or along a canal. This time there was a short intermediate step of some kind of summer party and the hoardes of youths flocking to it regardless of cycling traffic, but never mind that, we were soon in the suburbs interspersed with wide green parks, and about an hour later - in Rheinsfelden, our destination for today. Well, to be exact, we rode through Rheinsfelden, over the Rhine bridge, and into the German city of Rheinsfelden (Baden), where we soon found our hotel, thanks to Napoleon Buonoparte.
I should probably explain. Up until the beginning of the 19th century this whole area, including both banks of the Rhine, belonged to Switzerland, which was then a loose confederation of the constituent cantons. At some point during his tumultous rise to power, Napoleon has attacked, then conquered Switzerland, and the Helvetic Republic, friendly to France, was founded. Napoleon has also founded the Rhine Confederation, made up of several German states strung along the Rhine (so he was the first unifier of Germany, some half century before Bismarck) and perhaps for reasons of simplicity, perhaps for some other reason, he decided that the new border between the Republic and the Confederation will be the middle of the river Rhine. This means that quite a few riverside cities and towns, sprawled across both banks of the river, were now divided, each sprawling its own bank. This also means that a modern tourist has the option of travelling along the Southern, more interesting bank, but sleeping, eating and shopping across the river, in Germany, where everything is oh so much cheaper. Why don't businesses on the Swiss side of the border stay in business is a mystery to me.
So stay on the German side we did. This night in particular we were staying at a hotel which grew out of a Chinese restaurant. I think this was the best hotel we had on this trip - it even had an A/C! Daniel was exhausted, so he stayed at the hotel. As for me, alerted by the word 'Baden' in the name of the town, I checked whether there are any thermal baths around - and there were! Nothing like a sauna at the end of a day in the saddle, so I walked back into Switzerland, and into the spa center there. When I got back, Daniel was fast asleep, and wouldn't rise for dinner, so I went all by myself to the Chinese restaurant downstairs, and it was wonderful: a chinese style duck and a glass of cold wine on an outside terrase with candles on the tables and sun out of the picture - a perfect ending for a perfect first day of the trip.
To be continued...
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