Trails and Canals [Berlin Bicycle Week #2]

Before we left Sven’s house in the morning, he gave us two pieces of advice. The first was to stock up before we left Hannover, because we’d have problems finding supplies once we were beyond the city limits. That turned out to be mostly untrue, as we passed numerous grocery and convenience stores along the way. The second piece of advice, however, was invaluable; he suggested we follow the Mittelland Canal. We looked at a map and, sure enough, the canal runs through Hannover and nearly all the way to Berlin. This was great news, because now we didn’t have to put any thought into navigating. Stay on the canal, and we would always be on track. So Sven made us a map from his house down to the canal and we were on our way.

The Mittelland Canal stretches over 300 kilometers and is the longest artificial waterway in Germany. And as canals tend to be, largely free of elevation change (except for when we had to cross over bridges to the opposite side.) The towpath we started out on was pretty much dirt double-track that turned to gravel every now and again.  Some of it was really great riding. Other parts… not so much.

We encountered one section in particular that disintegrated into a rocky, jagged path that made for a pretty jarring ride. Thankfully, it was a brief affair, and we were back onto a relatively smooth trail before too long. Then there was another section that was more or less a giant gutter, and I took a spill on some wet leaves but managed to stay out of the canal (almost every time I ride with Will I have a difficult time keeping the rubber side down).

For lunch, we departed the trail and rode into the town of Peine for some baked goods and coffee. Not exactly the barren field or ghost town we had expected, but then again, we hadn’t yet crossed into the former GDR.

A funny thing happened after we got back on the canal after Peine: the sun came out. All of a sudden, we were in good moods and, were it not for my increasingly worsening knee pain, I think we could have covered a pretty substantial distance…

Well, maybe not. There were actually a few other factors working against us. Firstly, the further along we progressed, the more headwind we encountered—the steep embankments on either side of the canal gradually diminished to small mounds that did little to provide a wind break. Then there was the string of consecutive flat tires on Will’s fatbike, all caused by the same branch that neither of us had noticed until he was pulling quarter-inch thorns out of his tires.

He replaced the rear inner tube, only to have it go flat on him again—pinched on the rim during installation. So that one got a patch, and we were good… for a while. The front tube had a slow leak as well. It was deflation city.

We decided that we’d head into the next town and try to find a bike shop for some new tubes, but Calberlah only had a gas station and a café, and we had only a couple hours of daylight left. So while Will worked on his bike issues, I grabbed some coffee and slices of cake. Whether it was the craving for carbs and sugar or not, that cake was damn delicious.

We’d have liked to have made it to Wolfsburg, just another 8 kilometers from the town we were in, but we decided to make camp while it was still light out and so we picked up some beers, rode to our campsite, and called it a night. At this rate, there was no way we’d make it to Berlin by Thursday, but we’d see how far we could go before we needed to take the train again.

- Bicyclist Abroad

 

Op De Hoek

The local bike shop. It’s either the one closest to you, or the one you like the most, but either way, it’s where you go when you don’t want to do it yourself or don’t want to shop online. In my case, it was the former—because as much as I enjoy working on bicycles, there are two things I absolutely do not enjoy: installing headsets and installing new tires, and the Soma needed some new shoes.

Granted, I’ve been told that until the tube starts to show, you will be “okay”, but I would rather not wait until that point. The cracks in the tread alone didn’t bother all that much, but any sidewall deterioration makes me uncomfortable. So, on the sunniest of summer days, I rode on  down the street, across the Dutch border, to the Fietservice Op De Hoek or “Bike Shop on the Corner”.

Here, there is the proprietor—a nice man with an un-ironic curled mustache- his garage full of tools, and a showroom filled with Dutch bikes, classic road bikes, and a couple of e-bikes for good measure. There is also the obligatory wall of saddles and miscellany, and a couple shelves of tires in every size.

The cream-colored Panaracers currently on  the Soma were the first pair of tires I had on it and so I’ve been riding on them regularly for the better part of 4 years. I don’t know whether or not that lines up with other people’s tire lifespan, but I’m sure everyone’s mileage varies dependent upon their usage. (I have original tires on the Univega in that States, and they’re still doing fine). I had originally picked them out because Panasonic tires are easy to come by in Japan and, I’ll admit, because of their color. (At the time I was inspired by the path racer bikes I had seen in pictures). 700 x 23C was pretty narrow for me, but I grew accustomed to it and soon that was all I knew.

Now, four years later, I had learned a bit more about what qualities make for a good all-around tire. Skinny was out, cream was still cool, but not a necessity, and softer rubber is a must for winter riding. I was also looking into puncture resistance, though in the time I was riding on the Panaracers, I never experienced a single flat. 

[Above is the last photo of the Soma with the Panaracers.]

So, after browsing the tire selection, I settled on a pair of Continental Touring Plus tires at 700 x 32C. In black. (Change is good, I told myself). I wanted something wider, anyway, and 32 seems like a pretty popular tire width for a mix of pavement and dirt/gravel roads. So I had the old tires removed and the new ones installed as I leisurely walked around the block, enjoying the sunshine.

Upon returning, the bike was all done.  So I paid the gentleman, said my thank-yous, and set off to test things out.

The first thing I noticed was sluggishness. Not strength-sappingly sluggish, but definitely noticeable, like how it feels to pedal after riding for several hours. I was so used to the 23s zipping along, the added width and Kevlar puncture protection kinda slow things down a bit. But—the tradeoff here is that the ride is smooth and cushier—it’s certainly not transferring as much of the road vibrations as the Panaracers did, which I appreiate. Once you get up to speed anyway, the extra rolling resistance is negligible, at least in my opinion.

I have to say my only complaint so far is rather petty, but the tire information is printed on the reflective sidewall portion, making it difficult to make out the recommended tire pressure. Everything else is what I expected from a heavier, touring-style tire, and I’m pleased with the performance so far, though I will be sure to report any other issues as the seasons progress and I ride on them some more.

Ultimately, every change made to the bike is a little step towards what I’d like it to be. I think it shows how versatile the Soma is, becoming this type of bike or that type of bike depending on the riding style I’ve adopted at the time. And a wearing through a set of tires sort of feels like a milestone for any bicycle owner, so I’m kind of proud of that too.

- Bicyclist Abroad