Finding Düsseldorf [Berlin Bicycle Week #1]

The plan was hatched at a friend’s house over a couple beers— why don’t we just ride from here to Berlin Bicycle Week?  We could leave on a Sunday and make it there by Thursday if we kept a fairly quick pace. 650 kilometers over five days: riding, camping, and a then a huge bicycle expo. Why not?

Well, due to school finals and other reasons, that plan was then revised to include rail travel, cutting down the overall distance and allowing a more relaxed pace on the sections we were to ride. Even more time to camp and drink beers! We would meet up in Düsseldorf and then take the train to Hannover, where we would continue on towards Berlin. It was a solid plan.

Because we wanted to spend some time on dirt and gravel roads, I decided to use my 1990-something Dean Colonel as a touring rig with a hybrid pannier/handlebar roll setup. A drybag around the seatpost was a last-minute addition, but actually seemed to work out pretty well. Not an evenly-distributed load by any means, but it’s all I’ve got to work with at the moment.

By Google Maps’ estimation, 3.5 hours in the saddle was all that it would take to get from my house to the meeting point of Düsseldorf Hauptbahnhof, the main train station. So I set out with the assumption that I would be there a little under that time, as Google tends to be pretty generous with their cycling trip estimations, at least in my experience.

I rode along the Dutch side of the border for as long as I could, taking advantage of the cycle paths and abundant signage. The weather was cool but sunny, making for a pretty great start to the journey. I didn’t have, or think I needed, any sort of navigation beyond a compass and the maps provided on the waypoints. That was a mistake.

Dipping down into Germany, it became clear that long-distance navigation is not what the waypoint system is intended for. At any given waypoint, the map will only show you the town you are currently in and the two or three surrounding it. Whether that town will take you to where you’re headed is up to you—a larger regional map  is necessary to make that call, and I did not have one for this leg of the journey.

The other factor slowing me down as I made my way through German farmland was an unrelenting headwind. A set of fully loaded panniers only added to the misery of mashing pedals to a soundtrack of hissing wind. We joked later on that, at least it let us know we were headed in the right direction.

In town, it became difficult to place which roads went where, so I stopped to ask on a couple occasions. The meet-up time came and went, and I was nowhere near Düsseldorf at this point. Finally, I found a gas station that sold maps and picked up one for the region I was in. Was I still that far away? I had one more town to pass through before hitting the western bank of the Rhine, and then it was over the river to the train station where my friend was already waiting, passing the time by watching the bums pick through trashcans.

When I finally did arrive, it was nearly 6pm-- a full four hours later than planned and eight hours since I had left the house. Having done zero training rides prior to this, I was feeling pretty beat, and my knees were screaming. As it turns out, I hadn’t fully tightened the seat collar after adjusting the bike’s saddle height, and it had been slowly sliding down the whole time. Another terrible mistake which would cost me a lot of pain for the rest of the journey.

By now, it was getting dark and we had no place to stay. Had we met up at 2 o’clock and taken the very next train to Hannover, we’d have time to find camp while it was still light out, but that option was now pretty much behind us. We checked out a couple hostels in town, but they were either booked or too expensive, so we figured we’d get on the train anyway and figure it out when we got there. So we bought our tickets and got on board the bicycle car of the train, only to meet another traveler named Sven.

Sven is a German university student just returning from a multiple-month bike tour of his own. He asked us where we were headed, and we told him Berlin via Hannover. Then he asked us if we had a place to stay in Hannover, offering his back yard for us to camp in. We jumped on that offer! Then we spent the rest of the train ride talking about bikes, travel, and Sven’s adventures in Australia.

When we got to Hannover we followed him through the dark, cutting through German suburban neighborhoods and wooded paths to his house where he then offered to let us sleep on his living room floor, another offer we didn’t think twice about. I took a shower, inflated my sleeping mat, and climbed into my sleeping bag, halfway amazed that we had run into such luck. (If you ever read this, Sven, thanks again for your hospitality.)

- Bicyclist Abroad

 

Weak In The Knees

I had finished a rather lengthy ride in some pretty brutal wind, got off the bike, and carried on with business as usual. The next morning, I couldn’t bend my leg without feeling some rather intense pain. Stairs were a problem. Kneeling to tie my shoes was not fun. I couldn’t understand what I had done that was causing me so much discomfort. It’s not like I haven’t ridden a bike long-distance before.

After a couple days of the pain persisting, I thought I’d attempt to get on my bicycle. Surprisingly, the range of motion while pedaling did not affect me in the slightest. Dismounting and everything else however, yup—still hurts.

A full week elapsed with no lessening of the pain, so I decided that I’d see a doctor about it. Then, mysteriously, the pain went away. I had no problem bending my leg, which was great, if not a little awkward to explain to the doctor. I expected him to tell me it was all in my head or to stretch more and send me home. But instead, he prescribed me a few sessions of physical therapy. “Hmm.” I thought to myself. “Not really what I had in mind.”

But I indulged the doc and went to physical therapy. The prognosis was something about the kneecap not being well enough supported, and thusly causing discomfort as it jostled all around in there. To put it one way, I was writing checks my knees couldn’t cash.

Thankfully, the physical therapist suggested that in addition to some light leg work to strengthen the area, I should also look into riding a bike. “Convenient”, I say. “I rode one to this appointment!”

And now all is well again. The moral of the story is, if you’re like me and your primary source of fitness is riding a bike, make sure to throw some squats or lunges in for good measure.* Your knees may thank you.

The End.

- Bicyclist Abroad

 

* I am not a medical professional and my advice should not be taken as such. Please consult your own primary care physician.

An Unlikely Choice in Apparel

I was told that the snow was not coming. It didn’t snow last year and it was not expected to snow here this year, but lo and behold, just a couple days after Christmas, it came. After having camped overnight in it, I was eager to go for a ride and test out a few cold-weather items the Mrs. had gifted to me. Feeling lucky, I decided to ride the 18km from our house to the NATO base, taking my time and getting a feel for the ice-and-snow-covered roads.


Now firstly, let me say that winter riding varies greatly depending upon where you live. If you live in a snowy climate and have to share the road with motor vehicles (e.g. Upstate New York, New England, all of Canada) it may be too great a risk. But in this part of Germany, as well as many other places, there are enough cycling paths and farm roads to get you where you’re going without having to take the lane on a busy street. Granted, the snow can obscure many potholes and hazards, but if you take your time and use common sense, you’ll probably be okay.
The biggest challenge, of course, is being comfortable. There is an temperature inversion that occurs while riding in the cold weather where, while my core warms up in the first 5-10 minutes of riding, it takes about that same amount of time for my toes and fingers to get cold.
For my hands, I had just worn a pair of Thinsulate winter gloves, which contrary to their name, are not very thin at all. They worked okay, but like most gloves, having your fingers separated does diminish the warmth of the glove. So, the Mrs. got me a pair of the Planet Bike Borealis gloves, which are pretty nice. Because they are half-mitten, they do make your hands look sort of Penguin-ish, but I think they provide a good balance between warmth and dexterity (short of using full-on handlebar mitts, or pogies). 
For my feet, however, I needed a new solution. Since my clipless pedals have migrated (and will probably stay) on my MTB, I’ve been riding on a pair of platform pedals that the nice people at The Path Less Pedaled had recommended for touring. With these, I’d usually just wear whatever shoe happened to be on my feet at the time (which oftentimes is a pair of brown Crocs. No apologies.) For slushy, wet snow and ice however, I needed something a little more waterproof, so I headed down into the basement to find a boot or sneaker that could stand a little bit of the elements. What I found was a pair of NRS water shoes I had purchased last year for kayaking and totally forgot about. The shoe in hand, I thought about it for a minute and decided to try them out.


The uppers are made of 3mm thick neoprene with a thick rubber toe box that is obviously very much windproof. The neoprene keeps the water out, and in spite of road spray, my socks inside stayed perfectly dry. I was concerned that the soles would be too flexy, but they are actually stiffer than I expected and felt very comfortable while pedaling. Of course, these were designed for walking on sharp rocks and other water-related debris, so it makes sense, but it might also be due in part to a layer of titanium in the sole that is supposed to increase heat retention. In regards to heat retention, I had a pair of wool socks on underneath and really didn’t notice much heat loss until about an hour and half into my ride when I noticed that my feet were just slightly colder than I’d like, but I think that’s to be expected after an hour and a half in freezing temps.


All-in-all, I’d say these shoes performed remarkably well for something they were not designed to do. Now, while you can purchase a designated pair of winter cycling shoes, or install neoprene covers on a pair you already own, I wouldn’t recommend wearing either of those while swimming or kayaking, but that’s just me.

- Bicyclist Abroad

[The NRS Remix water shoe is currently being discontinued, so you can pick up a pair for $26 on their website (if they still have your size) or from Amazon for just a little more. Men's and Women's sizes available.]

 

A Wingless Bird

When you’re faced with writer’s block, your energy levels have declined, and you find yourself making excuses for doing anything, the best cure-all, at least for myself, is to get out on a bike and explore someplace new. Take a new road, head in a different direction, get lost and find your way back. Soon you will be filled to the brim with new thoughts and ideas. The scientific reason for this is that your brain has to process all of this unfamiliar information, so it piles it up all at once, causing the stack of papers that your mental faculties consist of to topple over in an avalanche of cognitive activity.*

So, with this in mind, I set out to the hardware store to find some nuts that Ikea had decided we did not need for our new chair, but I took a roundabout way of getting there. Normally, I stick to paved roads, but I found the Dahon more than capable of tackling the dirt and gravel roads that abound in this region, so I took a few of those.

This lead me to an area that I had noticed before, but never took the time to explore. You see, there are several windmills in this region-- not just the new, gigantic wind turbines, but the original windmills, made out of bricks and wood. One of them in particular was interesting, because it had lost its vanes at some point, which is sort of what makes a windmill a windmill. There it stood amidst all of these new, efficient wind turbines like a bird without wings.

 

I was thinking a lot about this former windmill as I pedaled towards it. Was it enjoying retirement? Was it jealous of the dozens of newer, bigger wind turbines that had been erected around it? Why am I personifying a piece of architecture? Eventually, I got up to it and realized that it was being renovated into someone’s home. Satisfied with that, and heeding the “private property” sign I guess I had missed, I continued on to the hardware store.

Along the way, a sleepy kitty emerged from the cornstalks to investigate my presence.

At the local hardware store, the nuts cost a total of .50 Euro, well worth avoiding the hassle of returning to the colossal blue and yellow furniture store. On my way home, I decided to take yet another route, though this one was a sanctioned bicycle path and paved. I got the chair assembled, but more importantly, I got back to feeling normal again… like a bird that got its wings back.

- Bicyclist Abroad

 

*This is probably not accurate, nor based on any scientific study.

Yokohama

If you’ve been following this blog for any amount of time, you’ll have noticed that one recurring theme happens to be doughnuts. I’m not entirely sure how doughnuts came to be such a driving force in my day-to-day decisions, but there they are, and I just have to accept that I enjoy them immensely. So, having seen a post on the Misawa Cycling Community Facebook page about a weekend ride from Misawa to an acclaimed doughnut shop up north, I immediately took interest. Now typically, I don’t participate in group rides—whether this is because I’m disinclined to socialize with other bicyclists or just prefer to ride alone, I can’t say for sure. The deciding factor in this ride though, was that it was going to be 120km-- well over what is referred to as a “metric century”. In this bike blogging business, you can’t be taken seriously until you have a least one century under your belt, so I kind of had to do this one.* I was a little concerned with the 20+ mph wind we’ve been having here, but I messaged the ride organizer, Teiichi, and he reassured me that it would be fine.

  (Teiichi,, at right)

The morning of the ride was slightly chilly, but not too bad. We gathered in the parking lot just outside of the base, and everyone adjusted their riding apparel, (or “kit” as many say, though I dislike that term for no specific reason). This is was my chance to take stock of the people I was going to be riding with, and they were outfitted very well: carbon fiber frames, aero-spoked wheels, cyclo-computers, the whole package. I looked at my Soma in comparison, with its lowly downtube shifters and comparatively heavy steel frame and began to doubt if I’d be able to keep up with these guys, but at this point it was too late—I was already committed. Speaking of the Soma, let me talk about that for a moment:

Typically, I have a Wald Twin Rear basket installed on the Soma for running errands and general usefulness, along with platform pedals for sake of ease, and a Stanley flask cage for sake of… impromptu toasting. All of those had to get removed for this ride, where I needed every ounce of weight shed in order to make it. The only additions were a hand pump on the seat tube and a handlebar bag for some snacks:

If the handlebar bag looks sort of like an L.L. Bean lunch pail zip-tied to the handlebars, that is because it is an L.L. Bean lunch pail zip-tied to the handlebars. I had to make due with what I had, and frankly I was kind of impressed with my ingenuity, so it stayed. Later, it would come in handy for transporting delicious doughnuts back home, but I didn’t actually think that far ahead when I was installing it.

A quick pre-ride photo of the rest of us, and we were off on our adventure. The initial pace was nice, but that was mostly due to riding through town and having to stop every so often at traffic lights. As soon as we  got outside of the residential areas, the pace accelerated, although at this point I still had no problems keeping up. Little did I know these guys were sandbagging me for most of the way there- they were maybe 15 years my senior and infinitely faster than me.

After 20km or so, there was a little moment of reprieve when we got split up at an intersection, and Teiichi doubled back to find the other two. I took that opportunity to take a picture by the Takasegawa River, which runs from Lake Ogawara to the Pacific Ocean:

 

We all met back up and continued north, on the neck of the Shimokita peninsula. The wind was more pronounced at this point, either because of the open water on both sides of the road, the change in elevation, or just that it was getting later and the wind speeds were increasing. In spite of the wind, the sun was shining and the scenery was very beautiful.

At this part of our journey, we turned off of highway 338 and started into some of the more hilly terrain. This provided many fun descents, but knowing that those would turn into steep climbs on the return trip made them sort of bittersweet. Before one particular descent, we posed for a photo in front of one of the many wind turbines that punctuate the landscape in this part of the country.

There were many more turbines:

 

And many more descents:

Finally, we arrived at Yusuitei in the town of Yokohama. They make their doughnuts with tofu, and it gives them an incredibly soft and slightly chewy texture. And like a lot of Japanese baked goods they’re not too sweet, so you can appreciate some of the more subtle flavors of the doughnut. I ate two, and ended up buying a box to take home with me. Good thing I had an L.L. Bean lunch pail on my bicycle!

 

After some much needed rest and a refill of the water bottle, we were back on the road.

Teiichi took my photo one last time before he kicked things into overdrive and then I only saw him as a speck on the horizon.

  

Knowing that there was no way I was going to catch up with the rest of the group, I took the liberty of taking a few photos of the towns we passed through. It also allowed me to stretch my arms and shoulders, which at this point were getting pretty sore.

 

In all honesty, the ride back was rough. The winds were really strong now with gusts up to 20 miles per hour, and my stamina was pretty much depleted. I stopped at a vending machine and paid 120 yen for a drink that looked like it had a lot of caffeine, hoping to gain any sort of edge I could to push through the wind and over the hills. My mind went to far away places. I began to sing Bob Seger. Then, before I knew it, the surroundings began to look familiar and I was back in Misawa.

I stopped at my barber shop to give mama-san a doughnut, and she marveled at my having brought it all the way from Yokohama. Then, I came home to message Teiichi and let him know I didn’t die somewhere out there. All in all, it was a really fun ride, but I think that if I truly knew how difficult it would be, I wouldn’t have decided to do it in the first place. Good thing I had no idea what to expect, because I would have missed out on my first and final Japanese century.

- Bicyclist Abroad

 

 

*This is probably not true.