Eleven Wise Monkeys

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!

You may have heard of some of the more interesting habits of cyclists. Especially during the longer stage races like the triumvirate that is The Tour, the Giro and the Vuelta (France, Italy and Spain). But also in general.

So for example, we shave our legs. There are many theories as to why apart from the obvious “it looks good”. Like

Massage and vanity get my vote!

Then the is the paranoia with germs and viruses. Once down to a racing weight – 2% to 4% body fat for the pro’s – and stressed through training and then racing, the bodies defenses against illness is pretty depressed. So best to avoid them in the first place:

Another is aimed at saving energy

This is also a big reason why a true general classification contender prefers not to hold the lead until near the end of the race. With all the media commitment many of the rules above are compromised.

As I climbed 4 flights of the stairs last night I realised what it was all about. With almost 1400km in the legs, they combined bitterly at the abuse. On the bike – no problem. Up some stairs – as numb as they come!

We had arrived at Hotel Grüntering in Dorsten at the end of stage 7 feeling somewhat disappointed. The day had started well but ended somewhat ignominiously. The route guide has promised a short, easy day. Only 123km. Accordingly we started out late-ish at 10am leaving Osnabrück in high spirits. The late start was also designed to avoid the morning rain and we looked forward to a pleasant afternoon cruising into Dorsten. It wasn’t to be.

During the day the rain clouds built ominously but we were skirting the worst of it. The loop across the border into Holland was a surprise. But to be enjoyed. Yet a new standard in bike paths. For example, roundabouts have not only a car circle but a concentric separate bike circle. Nice idea but it increases the possible directions that you have to consider to negotiate the thing safely. Stressful when you’re non Dutch.

And then back across the border into Germany where the previously admired bike tracks were looked at with disdain. Not that we were using them anyway – the day of seven punctures made us realize that the German bike paths were not for skinny racing tyres. Debris including glass shards meant they were to be avoided.

It was at kilometer 128 of the planned 123 that we realised that se had been hoodwinked. A quick check on the GPS confirmed our fears. We still had 60km odd to go. It was already 5pm. Disaster.

And then the heavens opened.

To cut a long story short, after a half an hour in the surf (no really) we threw in the towel and called in the support crew. I am not sure the owner of the bistro we annexed appreciated the sodden upholstery or the puddles on the floor. At least we did order hot tea and something to eat as we whiled away the hour and half before Jorge arrived. Jan feigned a knee injury as the support crew is not there simply for riders who are a trifle chilly or can’t swim.

And so we arrived at Hotel Grüntering and tackled the stairs.

You know how when you strike it lucky but have a feeling that being one up on the group is probably a bad thing….

So we duly arrived the ferry port of Malmo, reaffirming that the docks in a huge city is really the plug hole of the place. Even this was not without incident though for the official GPS track took us to completely the wrong part of the harbour – which in this case is pretty big, so we had to tack on an extra 5km or so to an already lengthened day.

And with the now standard GBI organizational planning we stood around from 6pm until we could board at 9pm. At least we could change though and so were at least comfortable if a bit sticky! During this time we received our cabin allocations. Joyously we had a double cabin to share rather than a 4 berther or even 6 berther. This is where we should have known better.

It felt strange to pedal the bike on board across the truck loading gangway competing with huge 18 wheelers. Once on board we stowed the bikes on the truck deck too. Well, stowed is a generous description – propped against the wall (bulkhead) is a better description.

Feeling small and insignificant next to the leviathan vehicles we made our way to the cabin. Horror. A tiny airless prison cell with hardly enough room to swing a mouse, never mind a cat! Internally located, with no natural light and devoid of any discernible ventilation. Just desserts for grabbing the only double cabin. Those with the four and six berth options would have been suitably amused – if we had told them!

Anyway – all ends happily as after a rather good buffet dinner the kind receptionist upgraded us without charge. Apparently a couple of truck drivers didn’t pitch so there was one cabin (yes, just one) spare. This on a ship with more accommodation than many hotels. But what a cabin! Better than many hotel have had the pleasure of checking out of in Europe. With en suites (admittedly smallish) beds, desk, TV, occasional chairs and table and – wait for it – a window! Oh, and a few floors up. The ship has seven decks.

The route the next day was 120km or so from coast down to Hamburg. Just to remind you, that will be day 4 on the bike after

Totaling 656km in the three days.

Today’s ride ended in a Swedish village called Falkenberg. How appropriate! The 195km from Uddevalle to our overnight stop rolled by quite pleasantly. Except to the hour in the downpour. Probably the heaviest we’ve had this far. But one can only get so wet I guess, after which it doesn’t seem to matter anymore.

Passing through the city of Goteberg was not much fun. The route was torturous to avoid the main streets but still had a million crossing. Give or take a few. And the inevitable of course – Jan had a puncture from a piece of broken glass. And then his spare tube was riddled with patches and one strategically placed non-patched hole. Good grief. Of course we had another between us but the wasted time was frustrating.

On the bright side most of the city route was on cycle paths. Even the broken glass bit!

The last 20km Into Falkenberg were perhaps some of the best riding conditions I have experienced. Basically flat, no wind. Good tar. Rolling along at 30 to 35kph was joyous. Of course the lack of rain could have had something to do with it!

A birds eye view of our route from Oslo.

And to our overnight spot. Kavernas pension B&B. Set out in the country it is charming in the rustic sense. The rooms are sort of cabin-ish which makes me wonder if Kavernas means cabin? Will have to ask. It is also on the site of a rather magnificent windmill. Which may or may not be operational. Will have to ask. I’m not quite sure what main clientele would be for this place. Certainly not business folk. Perhaps backpackers or campers on the upgrade plan? Will have to ask! Certainly camping seems a big activity herein Sweden as we passed many camp site signs. Better ask that too.

Keeping to the tradition we have established, we managed to lose another team member. Marcel, who does seem to struggle on the hills more that the other seems to have done his knee. So he bailed after about 150km and took a lift through to the end. A 20min conversation with the Tour Office to request assistance got us nothing but a huge roaming call bill. Luckily a camper came passed driven by a chap supporting another chap who is riding. We were able to flag him down using the blunt object of a viscous spring combined with flappy arms. Luckily he saw the crazed loon in the review mirror and pulled over.

So our little leaderless group was down to only 4. We hope Marcel can start out tomorrow on the 180km to Malmo where we catch and overnight on the ferry across to Germany. The organization sound dodgy and if the track record is maintained, we could end up in Germany without our bikes wrapped in a Finnline sheet having to get to Hamburg by manufacturing a vehicle out of quayside bric-a-brac. Bring it on!

But for now we are clean, bikes are cleaner (shower less clean), well fed (had two main courses from the set menu!) and warm in bed. And we could be asleep by 11. Just after it gets dark. Of course the dawn at a bout 3.45 spoils an otherwise good night!

Albert is showing signs of distress though:

Extreme! As you can imagine, these would not be on his plate usually. I sense the ghost of Edvard Munch circling! Whaaaaa!

The GBI supplied tracks do not go to the correct endpoints. Hence out little disenchanted extra 2km yesterday. What we have found though is that we can use the Garmins to get close. And the Google Maps on the iPhone for the precision work. How can that service be basically free?? It is simply ridiculously functional. If you haven’t checked into google maps yet on your iPhone, do it right now. If you don’t have an iPhone, what are you thinking!? No really now….

The last meters today

Only time for a quick synopsis. As you will see….

Yesterday’s 251km went pretty well. Apart from

Anyway we are alive and up and going.

Today is shorter at only 195km sonar hope to arrive by 5pm or so. But rain is expected again.

Sitting here in the breakfast hall of the Ronningen Hostel international I thought I might reflect on the glory of Norwegian cycling. Turns out it is a pretty short distraction!

First of all, my interest in international road cycling narrows the focus to what is now the now the World Tour. So the 17 Olympic cycling participants don’t make the cut. Nor the sprinkling of Norwegian MTBer’s. If we narrow that down to Tour de France stage winners, that leaves only 4, of which two are currently riding in the peloton. Thor Hushovd (older) and Edvald Boosen-Hagen (younger).

I did some research and soon discovered that the Norwegians that rise to the level of Pro Cyclist must be pretty hardy individuals. See for yourself:

For all that, Norwegian cycling does seem to be on the go. As I discovered here at the hostel.

When I arrived yesterday I wasn’t surprised to see fellow GBI cyclists out and about. Although, if I must be honest, I did think that they were perhaps a bit over eager. All decked out in matching kit and keenly spinning about the parking lot. There was also more than one “team” by the look of their kit and all of them looked disturbingly like pretty hardcore cyclists. Kind of elite league riders in our races. I assumed they would be in for the longer route and I would be in for a bit of a beating! Oh dear.

Then I noticed the cars with logo’s. They really did look professional. I assumed a bit more. Probably groups from somewhere in Europe that travelled through together in their cycling clubs. And what’s with all these carbon wheels?? I expected there to be some of course but they were all carbon! I became a bit more worried about keeping up. Well a lot actually!

This all ends happily ever after though! When I finally did get to speak to one of these gods of cycling it turned out that the Norwegian national champs were being held today and these were some of the elite national teams. Nothing to do with the GBI at all! Phew.

Met up with Albert who I will be sharing with. Or in cycling parlance, rooming with. We went downtown to take in the sites. The first of which was the taxi meter. Good grief?!? And that was just the start of a journey into pricing madness. We had a good meal at Oslo’s equivalent of the V&A. An big standard omelette and potatoes for me and a rather nice tuna and cream style potatoes for Albert. 750ml sparkling Nd a coffee. Including tip, just R750 or so.

Just down the way there was a large marquee with food to go. But what a selection. If you were in to seafood this would be quite a treat!

Norway boasts a number of famous people that even I recognize. And while it’s true that most of those are filed under Explorer’s (more about them later) old Edvard is from the field of art. Although he lived from 1863 through to 1944 when he passed away here in Oslo, he was remarkable prescient. It is little known that his most well know work, The Scream, is based directly on my experience this morning on arrival in Oslo on BA762. While I arrived safely, my bicycle is still touring the baggage retrieval system at Heathrow leading to the emotion so vividly captured back in 1893 by Eddie.

I had suspected that the 90 minute turn around transit was going to be tough, for humans and baggage. Luckily I sped through and even had time for a breakfast snack before boarding and managed to score 100% for humans. The baggage system at Heathrow meanwhile could only manage a paltry 50% score. At time of writing I am told that the bike is on the 4pm flight and should be delivered to me sometime after 6pm. Thankfully the ride starts only Sunday. If it had started tomorrow, the anxiety level would be off the charts.

Back to the explorers. The most famous would probably be Roald Amundsen. But seeing as he, er, famously kicked Scott’s butt in the race to the South pole, it’s probably not fair to dwell on that given Queen Elizabeth’s jubilee celebrations are not yet cold. Amundson was the protégé (add slanty accents wherever you like if you don’t like mine) of Fridtjof Nansen who would have been more famous if the English speaking world could sort out the pronunciation of his first name! ˈfrɪd.tʃɒf ˈnænsən/ frid-choff nan-sənif you were wondering.

Most famous explorers are famous for a hare brained scheme that comes off. Explorers whose hare brained schemes don’t come off are normally less famous and more often than not, deceased. Nansen’s idea was to be first to reach the north pole by drifting around in a boat trapped in the pack ice. So he purpose built the Fram and set sail. The plan basically worked except that the rate of northerly drift slowed in the higher latitudes (eventually only 1mph). Undeterred, when the ice bound vessel passed 84d North he struck out on foot. This after about 18 months of drifting in the ice! Eventually they turned back just north of 86d N when they realised that they were marching against a southerly drift and would not make it to the pole and and back before their food ran out or they did. A new record nonetheless, but not the prize he had hoped for. Apparently he coined the popular South African phrase “if you catch my drift” during the return march.

In the map below you can see the tracks of the various players in the saga. By the way, The Fram did eventually drift free of the pack ice and also made it back. She is on exhibit here in Olso. Nansen is not.

The journey back was itself an adventure of note – they had always planned to return not to the ship but to the most northerly inhabited land – Spitzbergen. After holing up for the winter on the most northerly bit of land – Franz Joseph Land, which is not exactly verdant anyway – they were “rescued” by another explorer, Frederick Jackson and survived to claim the record. Pictured below is there fortuitous meeting.

Not unusually for the time, exploration was one of many activities that Nansen was involved in being also a scientist (exploration is a good fit) and a humanitarian (not useful when exploring areas where no one had gone before). It was for his efforts in assisting displaced WW1 veterans that he was awarded the Nobel Peace Price in 1922.

Another famous Norwegian explorer is Thor Heyerdahl who starting that whole Kontiki drifting around Europe thing. Or was that the Pacific? Close enough.

There are some famous Norwegian cyclists, but more about them tomorrow.