Looking back over the blogs from the Global Biking Initiative, I realize I haven’t said to much about the routes or the riding itself, despite there being so much of it! Not one to shirk a challenge I thought I would set out to do just that in a single blog – and that without making it the blogging equivalent of War and Peace. Just so you know 😱 (there is that Edvard Munch reference again!)

THE TRAINING 😓
It is sometimes said that real cyclists don’t just go out for a ride. We go training. And 50h19m in the saddle is going to give some solid training effect.

If nothing else it’s going to either toughen up the saddle contact area (a.k.a. your butt) or it’s going to wear it out completely! This is an important point, and one that can quickly wreak havoc with any training aspirations. So I am delighted to report a clean bill of health in this regard. More information than you hoped for perhaps?!?

Rather obviously most of the training goes into whipping the legs into shape. And it is a case of getting in what you put out – strength in exchange for effort. Our riding group, once whittled down to just four, was pretty evenly matched and were able to combine long duration TITS (that would be Time In The Saddle) with some higher intensity efforts. Apart from day one, there were no climbs to speak of so this was mostly in the form of leading the group along at 42-45kph for intervals of 5 to 10 mins. Even the slightest breeze from the front makes this a red line effort of around 88% of maximum heart rate. If these numbers don’t mean much to you I will translate – an effort that renders you incapable of speaking in more than single word gasps.

With most of the days significantly longer than regular training days the hours of churning also conditions the legs. I was very surprised to get through the full 8 days without any niggles. No leg, back or neck problems.

Perversely, with no events lined up, there is no use for the condition I will have developed on the tour. C’est la vie.

THE ROAD 🚧
The holy grail of cycling is good tar. Fine grained smoothness, debris free and unblemished by damage inducing holes and bumps it allows fast, almost effortless rolling, and low nervousity (made that up myself just now).

In 1450km one gets to see a lot of road and 95% was good tar – back home we are lucky to get 25%. So a true joy for the real cyclist, a connoisseur of McAdams finest.

Counterintuitively, cycling tracks are however to be avoided. While certainly a bit safer, being further from tons of moving metal with loose nuts behind the wheel, they a more bumpy by far; debris fields looking to slice into a defenseless road bike tyre. Oh, sure, you could fit heavier puncture resistant models, but then you wouldn’t be a real cyclist. We faced seven punctures in the day from the coast down to Hamburg and resolved to stay on the actual roads in future.

THE SCENERY 🌸
If you have done your homework while planning a trip, The ubiquity of information and especially images, means traveling for the scenic value can be a bit of a let down.

Her: “Look dear, there’s the Taj Mahal.”
Him: “Oh yes, so it is. My, it looks just like the pictures we pored over as we researched our trip.”
Her: “Ok then, what’s next on our list?”

The serendipity is just about destroyed.

However, with the cycling being the primary objective I hadn’t researched the trip. Heck, I didn’t even know which about each days cycling program, never mind the scenery.

Green. A deep an luxuriant green that we know nothing of in the Western Cape. And order. The fields are just so. The tree lined country lanes are arranged as carefully as the drive up to a posh wine estate. Even the forests, which hopefully are au naturelle, have a post modernist planning feel to them. “Move zat one a bit to ze left Hans, it is a bit to in line for zis forest.”

Of course the big cities suck as they do everywhere. Yet, tucked in amongst the functional glass and steel you can find the Altstadt – the historical centre. With it’s period buildings and carefully preserved cobble roads. Often times limited to pedestrians and bicycles. Even when the city is to modern to have an Alstadt it could boast a cobbled pedestrian area. A faux Altstadt if you will.

Another major departure from the South African scene is are the villages. Following the byways as we did, the road winds sinuously through the landscape from one village to the next, sometimes separated by no more that a couple of kilometers. One gets the general feeling that life is in harmony with nature. Oftentimes the village would boast a Café/Konditori located in the front room of the proprietors house. From the street front it appears as a regular store, but inside they may be as wide as the house facade but are only a couple of meters deep with a door leading to the living area. Do they bake all those pastries in the Defy oven in a regular kitchen. Or do they have something more industrial tucked away? Either way the quality of the baked goodies was sublime. Except in the big cities where they seemed to be more industrial somehow. Think Melissa’s versus Mugg and Bean. Although to be honest I personally think Melissa’s is over rated.

A favorite with the group was the strawberry cream slice. It was anyway strawberry season and there were many, many little stalls at the roadside offering the most delicious strawberries imaginable. Yummy!

Apart from Osnabrück, this part of Germany is pretty flat so the views from the saddle are limited to a horizon of a few kilometers. Osnabrück on the other hand seemed to be built on the pile of left over modeling clay when they built these parts. Kind of a few lumps were just forgotten there – “Leave that dear, I’ll clean up in the morning.” and typically we reached the hills of Osnabrück at the end of the 314km day. At least the views were good. I think.

THE WEATHER 💦
This about sums it up:

The last point only applies to the last day. And only the first three quarters at which time the others descriptors applied again.

THE LOCALS 👋
The most important characteristic of a local in a foreign country, if you follow, is that they speak English. If they are rude or difficult, we don’t speak the local lingua franca and can always pretend not to speak English either. But if they are friendly, as most are, it’s a lot more useful if they are being friendly in an understood sort of way.
Them: “Hey – you can’t take you bike up to your room!”
Me: “Baie dankie, staan uit die pad asseblief, ek moet met my fiets verbykom.”

Them: “Can I help you carry that heavy bag up the three flights of stairs as we somehow neglected to include an elevator in this buildings otherwise pleasing design?”
Me: “That’s very kind, thanks – here you are. And could you please stand aside as I must get through with my bike.”

This also seems to work against us though from time to time. As in:
Me: “I’m desperate for the loo. Could you tell me where there is one, please?”
Them: “I’m sorry, I don’t speak English.”
Me (confused): “Uh….”

THE FOOD ♨
In general the food is similar to home with that unique European twist. Cold meat for breakfast.

But really, when eating in restaurants you have to seek out local cuisine and more usually one ends up in something fairly international. And more times than not, Italian.

My careful eating plan, avoiding gluten, dairy and red meat came to an abrupt halt on the day into Osnabrück – 314km, 9h50m if you remember. At the first stop after a couple of hours I thought it a good idea to eat something of a non energy bar variety. Tried a croissant. At lunch, which was the very next stop after 4.5 hours, I gamely ordered the same as the rest of the group. Happy Nudlen at the delightful Happy Meal fast food joint from hell. By the time we reached 240km I began to feel alarmed at my lack of ability to concentrate – the world became reduced to a spinning tyre in front of me. Dangers receded into the periphery. Not a good state. So at 260km at a really delightful Café/Konditeri I slugged back a Coke, chased it with a apple food over and demolished a cherry slice covered in icing glaze. The last 54km felt a lot safer and more in control. I realised that I had classically bonked. In cycling terms this is when energy reserves are finished and one struggles to continue. Except in this case I fund out that bonking doesn’t always mean your legs go, which is what we typically talk about and experience when we claim to bonk. I have read about your faculties going, and now have that experience to add to my cycling list. Quite literally mind numbing.

On reaching the hotel at about 8.30pm, I showered and headed across to restaurant opposite. Predictably Italian, where I demolished a Calzone pizza. And another for dessert! Oh yes I did. Indeed. The only saving grace being that I was strong minded enough to ask for a no-cheese pizza. Must have been that cherry slice that was still helping the brain function!

So a gluten fest of note. Otherwise the eating has been pretty good!