Travels with a Tin Donkey

It’s Hammer (and Sickle) Time!

2012-02-10T21:46:00.000+01:00

Germany has not been considered a great cycling nation on par with France, or Belgium or Italy. Sure, a German, the quite sturdy Josef Fischer, won the first Paris-Roubaix race in 1896, and more than a few Tour de France stages (and one overall) have been won by Germans but probably the country’s greatest two-wheeled tradition is on the track and Berlin continues to host the oldest Six Day Races in the world, which began in 1906. There were large-scale manufacturers of bicycles (Opel comes to mind) but as Germany industrialized and produced the first electric trains and (arguably) the first practical automobiles, attention turned elsewhere and the individual victories recorded by German cyclists were not the stuff of legends. Even now, the German Sports Hall of Fame only includes two cyclists.

Gustav-Adolf “Täve” Schur at speed

The division of Germany post-1945 meant that those behind the Iron Curtain would end up with races and heroes and stories quite different from those in the West. A colleague in Berlin sent me an article about a museum near the capital that covered some aspects of this and on a recent weekend I persuaded relatives to take me to the Radsport-Museum Wünsdorf.

Around 30 kms south of Berlin’s shortly-to-be-inaugurated international airport in the state of Brandenburg is the small and sleepy town of Zossen, which was consolidated from a number of villages in 2003. It was not always so sleepy as Zossen, and particularly the area that is Wünsdorf, was once the command centre for the Wehrmacht, with massive bunkers and its most modern telephone communications system. After World War II’s end the town housed up to 70,000 Soviet troops, who departed in 1994, leaving a bit of a shambles behind. Subsequently efforts have been made to renovate the old military buildings and many have been turned into very attractive housing developments.

With the departure of the troops and nothing much in the way of industry or agriculture, Zossen-Wünsdorf looked to new ways to survive. It offers tours of sections of the huge old bunkers, along with a great number of used books. It is categorized as a “Bücherstadt,” or “Book City,” such as the much more famous Hay-on-Wye in England, but it also refers to itself as a “Bunkerstadt.” There is what appears to be an unsuccessful restaurant seeking new management and a small art gallery and village centre, along with some souvenirs. Above the art gallery there is a sign made from an old bicycle fork and we figured this was where the bike museum should be.

Billboard outside the museum

The bike racing museum is above the gallery

We had called first to make sure that the museum would be open on this ice-cold Friday and the man answering the telephone had seemed astonished that we wanted to visit. He confirmed that it was in fact open and also helpfully warned us about a police speed trap on the outskirts of town. He told us to come into the bookstore to get our tickets. We found the store without much effort, passing a big sign on the road advertising the Wünsdorf Radmuseum, and met our interlocutor. He still seemed nonplussed that we were there to see the museum but he sold us our 3 Euro tickets. I bought some postcards but we had to invent a price as he had no clue. But he happily enough took us back outside to the museum and unlocked the door for us, telling us we could also tour the art gallery if we wanted. He also mentioned that the museum, which is on the top floor of a long building, was not heated and in summer had no air-conditioning. He reflected with amusement on the seasonal sufferings of visitors and then left us to ourselves.

Walking up the stairs, we went by a mid-1930s Derny track pacing bicycle and then past a very nice green Wanderer racing bicycle that was used by Bruno Roth to win the German pro road championships in 1935. The bike was displayed with his jersey and a nice photo, showing him in a natty eagle-and-swastika (!) outfit.

Bruno Roth's Wanderer

Moving into the museum proper, there was a nod to bicyle pre-history, with a copy of Baron von Drais’ “Laufmaschine” and an impressively crude high-wheeler. Then there is a stand with two Diamant road bikes from 1924 and 1940. Diamant (“Diamond”), founded in 1885, has produced bicycles since 1895 near Chemnitz, Saxony, and after various changes in ownership (including that of Opel from1928-1930) and conflicts the firm ended up as the predominant manufacturer of bicycles in the DDR. While in the 1950s its products were considered state-of-the-art, it gradually stagnated and by the end of the Soviet era it had been combined with another bicycle company, Texima, under the control of a knitting machine collective. The company was privatized and since 2003 has been part of the Trek group and continues to build non-racing bicycles in Chemnitz in what is probably Germany’s oldest existing bicycle factory.

Diamant Road Bikes (1924, rear and 1940, front)

The organization of the Wünsdorf collection is not completely clear but seems divided into discrete theme areas. The first part really seemed to cover East German (DDR) international success and there is a big emphasis on the exploits of Gustav-Adolf “Täve” Schur, nine times DDR Athlete of the Year and, as part of the single German national Olympic teams of the era, winner of a bronze and a silver medal in 1956 in Melbourne and 1960 in Rome in team events. Six times national DDR champion, he was World Amateur Champion on the road in 1958 and 1959. His green Diamant road bike is on display with supporting documentation. “Täve” was the DDR’s most popular athlete and became a member of the Communist legislature after his retirement from racing and after the reunification of Germany in 1990 continued to serve as a parliamentarian in the Bundestag, still representing the East German Communist successor-party. He is now 80 and apparently supports, in addition to the Wünsdorf museum, another museum dedicated to the famous Peace Race in Sachsen-Anhalt. He is not without controversy in German sports circles as he has consistently denied institutionalized doping by DDR atheletes, contrary to statements by other East German atheletes.

Schur's Diamant

Close-Up of Schur's Diamant

The Peace Race, known as the Course de la Paix or, to the German, the Internationale Friedensfahrt, was the Soviet Bloc’s answer to the Tour de France and clearly the most important race in Mitteleuropa. Beginning in 1948 on a route from Warsaw to Prague, it included East Germany in its itinerary in 1952. One of the highlights that year and in subsequent editions was the inclusion of a brutal little climb in Meerane, a small town in Saxony. The “Steiler Wand” (“Steep Wall”), as it came to be known, is 342 m in length and averages an 11 per cent gradient.

The race (won by the above-noted Täve Schur in 1955 and 1955) was an event for “amateurs” which continued in that form until 1989 and the collapse of the Soviet Bloc. Its subsequent history was a gradual decline as East Germany, Russian and other cyclists migrated to Western professional teams and competed in the Tour and other big name races and the final edition, after an uninterrupted 57 year run, was in 2005.

Peace Race Display

Many winners of the Peace Tour went on to impressive careers: 5-time winner Steffen Wesemann, for example, was a force in the Spring Classics won the Tour of Flanders in 2004 and Jens Voigt won in 1994. The race is marked with a display case of medals and clippings at the museum as well as the pristine blue Colnago Master ridden in 1983 to an unexpected victory by Falk Boden. The race was also a proving ground for younger riders. Winners of the junior edition of the Peace Race include Fabian Cancellara, Denis Menchov, Roman Kreuziger and Peter Velits. I cannot resist adding that a British team, made up of semi-pros and real amateurs, won the Peace Race in 1952, with Scotsman Ian Steel taking the overall, undoubtedly to the shock and astonishment of the other “amateurs.”

A section of the museum is dedicated to the four man team that won the silver medal at the 1960 Olympics in the Four Man Pursuit event on the track. Althought the Italians were supreme in cycling at the games that year, the East Germans (competing as part of the combined East-West team) won silver on the track and on the road (Täve Schur leading his four man time trial team); as well, a West German, Dieter Gieseler, won silver in the 1 km track event. In addition to the various Olympic certificates, jerseys and photos, the museum also has an impressive silver trophy awared to the pursuit team when the riders set a world record of 4:32.8 at the Vigorelli Velodrome on October 26, 1959.

Positioned next to Falk Boden’s Colnago is an evil-looking all-carbon FES time trial bike which was ridden by Jan Schur (son of the inevitable Täve) to a gold medal in the 100 km team time trial at the Seoul Olympics in 1988, bringing the family haul of medals to a complete set of gold, silver and bronze. FES, which is an abbreviation of the less-snappy Institut für Forschung und Entwicklung von Sportgeräten, was established in 1962 in Berlin by the East Germans as a research and development institute dedicated to sports equipment. It continues to operate today financed by the Federal Republic. It began working on bicycle technology in the 1970s and in 1984 produced its first carbon disc wheel. FES is involved in a wide range of sports projects, including speed skating and kayaking.

The museum is worth going through slowly as there are lots of interesting artifacts, including plenty of signed jerseys from German stars. Here is one from Jen Voigt; another from Erik Zabel. But some of the stories are a bit more obscure. I was very much taken with a lovely silver Rickert track bike hanging from the ceiling. It had a big sign on it and I was delighted to learn of the bike’s Canadian connection:

Heinz Dieter Reinhold lived in West Berlin until immigrating to Canada in the mid-1960s. Shortly thereafter, legendary Dortmund framebuilder Hugo Rickert constructed this track bike for him and it was brought to Canada by Gussi Kilian, son of Germany’s famous track star Gustav Kilian, who was then retired but serving as a coach on the West German national team. Reinhold competed in seventeen Six Day Races, placing well although never enjoying outright victory, and rode in races in Montreal, Quebec, Toronto and Delhi, Ontario before retiring from racing in 1973. He returned to Germany and the Rickert continued to see service as Reinhold was a trainer at the track in Kaarst-Büttgen, near Düsseldorf.

In addition to Reinhold’s Rickert, the museum displays two more track bikes, representing the outstanding success of DDR athletes. Both are Diamant/Textima bikes and one was ridden by Bernd Drogan to gold in the 1979 World Championships at Valkenburg in the 100 km team time trial, and the other one of the team bikes used by 5-time track World Champion Detlef Macha in the same era.

The final part of the museum tells the story of Rund um Berlin, the oldest German road race with its start in 1896 and, sadly, extinct since 2008. The race had national signficance primarily and was only won three times by non-Germans but the winners’ ranks include, yes, Täve Schur, Erik Zabel, Jan Ullrich, Olaf Ludwig and Robert Bartko, as well Wolfgang Lötzsch, who was probably the DDR’s finest cyclist in the 1980s but denied opportunity to compete in big races for his refusal to join the Party and contacts with the West.

Rund um Berlin ran uninterrupted, with the exception of the war years, from 1896 until 2000 and then a final time in 2008. The museum has posters, jerseys, photos, certficates and medals spread out over the entire time of the race. Included is a trophy that is apparently modeled on Lady Godiva, probably the only nude-woman-with-long-hair-on-a-horse trophy ever awarded for cycle sport. The first race originated in Zossen and made its way in a big loop completely around Berlin without ever actually entering the capital. Recently, a professional road race has returned to Berlin with the expansion of the Velothon gran fondo in May to include a pro race managed by Erik Zabel and won in 2011 by Marcel Kittel in its first edition.

The museum also features memorabilia from cycling clubs in the region, which have a long and impressive history as well.

The museum was opened in September 2009 and I believe that much of the collection originates with its curator, sport journalist Werner Ruttkus. He has written a book about the numerous cycling World Championships that have taken place in Germany, as well as a book about the history of the BDR, the national cycling organization. As a personal collection, the museum is impressive but visitors should not expect much interpretive presentation. The difficulty of any bicycle-focused museum is the problem in conveying the speed and excitement of racing in a static display of artifacts. Some big-screen videos of historic races or interviews with stars would help but I suspect the museum is not really equipped to invest in this kind of thing. Wünsdorf is not an obvious place for a cycling museum (Herr Ruttkus lives there) and the surrounding countryside is not necessarily going to bring in many passing cyclists. Inexpensive but modern media has not been used to promote the Radsportmuseum and it is not easily found on any lists of bicycle museums in Germany or even on search engines.There are questions about the continuing operation of the museum given the few visitors.

As a person with a good knowledge of the history of bike culture and races in Western Europe, I found the Radsport-Museum Wünsdorf to be well worth the visit and very informative about chapters in European racing that were new to me. See it if you can!

Radsport-Museum Wünsdorf
Gutenbergstraße 1
115806 Zossen/OT Wünsdorf
Germany
Tel: +49 (0) 33702) 9600
Website: http://wuensdorf.radsportmuseum.de/
(Please note that the Website and all exhibits in the Museum are in German only)

Opening hours:
Monday to Friday: 10:00-18:00
Saturday and Sunday: 11:00-17:00
(Tickets are 3 Euros each and can be bought at Haus-Oskar, across the street)

Happy New Year! Resolutons for 2012

2012-01-13T14:44:00.004+01:00

I suddenly find myself here in 2012, regrettably unable to train due to a sinus infection for which I have been given antibiotics and orders to lie down a lot. This is clearly interfering with my ambitious training plans for the coming season, particularly sad as here in Düsseldorf we have not had anything much like a winter. There was heavy rain in December but the start of the year is quite pleasant so I hope to do something out on the road soon!

Every year I set out my resolutions for the coming year out here in public where the world can see them. My planned efforts for 2011 did not work out so well.

To recap:

1. Weight down to 78 kg by mid-June 2011. Not remotely close, so this will have to be a recycled resolution for 2012.

2. Complete my high-intensity training (HIT) program on the home trainer. Nope, didn't happen. Try again.

3. Do more writing on the blog. 61 postings for the year doesn't seem bad at all, although I still need to finish writing up the 2010 Lost Boys Tour of Europe before starting to post the 2011 one from June! Still, it is my lowest total since setting up the blog in 2007. Must Do Better.

4. Organized rides. The list is very short due mainly to the horrible weather we had this past summer. I did not make those chosen for Amstel Gold but I did ride the dreadful Bonn-Eupin-Bonn ride, along with the Berlin Velothon, several RTFs and l'Eroica. The Lost Boys trip this year did take place but the distances were short, made up for by the steepness of the roads. And I did several rides with the Klassikerausfahrtgruppe of old people on old bikes.

5. In touring rides, there were a few successes, including the Erft, the Ahr and the Sieg bike routes, the Sauerland Radring, three days of great riding in the Ardennes with my friends from Cycling Camp San Diego and three days of Münsterland riding to check out castles. Nothing multi-day, however.

Although I was pleased that the world was not destroyed on May 21, I regret that I still have made no serious effort to learn Italian.

So here we go again: Resolutions for the Coming Year

1. Get serious about training, and get the weight down fast. 78 kgs. Now.

2. Organized rides:

6 Hour Charity Spinning Event, Netherlands (January 28)

Amstel Gold Sportif 150 km (April 14)

Lake Garda (1), including watching Giro d'Italia team time trial (May)

Lake Garda (2) Pezcycling Camp with climbs up the Gavia and Stelvio (May-June)

Gran Fondo Damiano Cunego, Verona, Italy 85 km (June 3)

Paris-Roubaix Sportif, France 210 km (June 10)

2012 Lost Boys Tour of Europe: Corsica, France (June-July)

L'Eroica, Chianti, Italy (September)

3. Touring

Roman routes, including the Xanten-Paderborn route and beginning the Limesstrasse
Pfalzer-Wald weekend
Bad Driburg weekend
Critical Dirt Revisited

4. Do something about learning Italian.

So, let's see how this shapes up over the coming 12 months!

And since I cannot do anything bike-related except cleaning and polishing at the moment, I have actually been watching television. Here is a clip from a rather silly 1968 French comedy, "Les Cracks," starring a once-famous comedian named Bouvril. He portrays an inventor of a new and improved brake system who ends up in a bicycle race going from Paris to San Remo around 1900. A review of entire movie will follow on the blog, sooner or later!

North Rain Westphalia: New Year's Eve Challenge Ride

2011-12-31T20:13:00.006+01:00

Bernd and Nick: 2/3 of the mad cyclists out in the rain on New Year's Eve

What could be better than to take advantage of the lack of snow in North Rhein Westphalia and try for one more long ride in the Bergische Land, east of Bonn? It seemed like an excellent idea at the time and my friend Nick in Neunkirchen-Seelscheid and Bernd, who accompanied me at l'Eroica, were game.

Of course, waking up to pouring rain this morning was not what I had planned but I still wanted to manage one more ride. I had rented a car and loading it up with the bike and gear (including my spare wind trainer in case we would end up doing a workout at Nick's place) I set off at 9 am. The drive along the A3 was okay as there were none of the usual traffic jams but it continued to rain.

By 10 I had arrived at Nick's but we elected to wait a bit in the hope the rain would lessen. I thought I had packed everything but as always seems to be the case in the world of hobby cyclists I had forgotten something important but luckily Nick had a spare helmet.

We decided to leave after 11 and it was still pretty cold. The first road was quite busy with traffic but I was surprised to see another cyclist out. This turned out to be Bernd on his recently-acquired Pinarello. I had my trusty Basso rain bike and Nick, who clearly needs more bikes, had brought his titanium Serotta.

At 5 kms in our first climb began at Schöneshof and in the next 5 kms we gained 200 m. I felt pretty good as the rain was not too heavy and in spite of the Basso being rather over-geared for climbing I was going well. I even stopped to take a photo of Nick and Bernd climbing up on the quiet road we were travelling.

Another steepish climb and the rain began to fall more heavily and during the subsequent long descent we all got very very wet and cold. It was at most 4C and with the windchill it felt like the last day of the year. We all looked forward to a coffee in our favourite cafe in Eitdorf, which Bernd said would be open until 2 pm today.

We reached Eitorf at 25 kms into our trip and went into the crowded cafe for some coffee. We were soaking wet and left big puddles on the floor. We had had no incidents in the ride but at this point Bernd lost his footing on the tile floor as his cleats slipped while he was sitting down and he fell over, taking two chairs with him and bringing even more attention to us. Nothing hurt but pride, we enjoyed excellent warming coffees courtesy of Nick. We also noted that our ostensibly "waterproof" socks were not in the least so.

Bravely setting out again, we found that the temperature had dropped even more and it was a wet, cold group that made a quick dash along the main road out of Eitorf. Ahead, at Km 27, was something to warm us up. The road to Höhn climbs one of my favourite hills in the Bergische Land, gaining 130 m in less than 3 kms. It is a great read, barely travelled, and I dug in hard to get to the top, followed directly by Bernd, with Nick a bit behind.

Bernd, who was suffering from a cold, soon left us at Schreckenberg to go home, and Nick and I had two more climbs to return to his place. After the first of these, a descent brought us back to Schöneshof and the bridge over the swollen Sieg River. NRW had the wettest November in history but it seems like December must be one of the wettest as it has rained most of the month. Nick said that the river had been quite low, and the tributaries completely dry, but at the bridge the river had flooded its banks.

The last climb was a marvellous quiet little road that took us back towards Neunkirchen-Seelscheid but I was getting very cold and a bit tired and had to stop for a Clif Bar. The last few kilometers back were enough for me to end the day.

I had a very welcome hot shower (although the warm water really made my frozen feet ache!) and Nick kindly revived me with some excellent tomato soup before I packed up my soaking wet gear and hosed-down Basso and got back into the Mercedes-Benz for the drive back to Düsseldorf, again in pouring rain. Along the way, I saw the odd outburst of fireworks in the darkness as people began to celebrate the end of the year and the start of 2012.

Although I cannot recall ever having willing begun a ride in pouring rain, having good friends to share the adventure with makes it possible to enjoy even the most trying conditions. It was also the first time I have ever ridden anywhere on New Year's Eve, so 51 kms and over 800 m of climbing was something of an accomplishment.

To all those reading my blog I hope you had a good year of accomplishments and wish you many more in 2012!

My Latest Book Review! The Peloton

2011-12-23T13:34:00.003+01:00

The Peloton is a beautiful and elegant book from the folks at Rouleur featuring the superb portraits of pro cyclists by Berlin photographer Tim Kölln, who spent five years on the project. Capturing the riders at that moment directly after a race, the photos display a wide range of emotions. The one of Rolf Aldag (above) is one of my favourites: the cyclist-as-boxer.

My review can be found at Pezcyclingnews.com here.

And people laugh at my bicycle storage...

2011-12-23T10:34:00.010+01:00

A couple in Portland, Oregon, have had a $1.5 million custom house built that features fine views of the city but, more importantly, a separate structure for their 22 bicycles, including a fitness area and a sauna. She is a pro racer and he rides as an amateur.

"They ended up spending over a million dollars building a dramatic three-story wood-and-glass contemporary with a roof deck far above neighboring roofs, giving them a 360-degree view of the city. A separate 600-square-foot "garage" houses their 22 bikes plus many other extras a bike enthusiast might want, from a hot-water washing station for muddy bikes to a sauna, fitness room and fix-it station."

If you look at the slide show in the accompanying article here you can see the bike room which, frankly, looks a bit crowded to me. I would envision something involving a podium for the Colnago Mexico (under a spotlight) and some space to walk around and admire the other bicycles. But it is good to see priorities set properly.

The Delirium of Swiftness: Time Travel

2011-12-21T21:27:00.005+01:00

Advice from the American Medical Association (in 1895):

"Ride no faster than 12 kilometers an hour [and] as far as possible, guard against the desire to ride any faster. It is very difficult not to give way to the 'delirium of swiftness.' With a light machine on a good road an amateur may easily make 25 kilometers an hour. This is too much, for the pulse is increased to 150, even at 14 and 16 kilometers per hour."

The "Bicycle Face"

—In the midst of the ceaseless paeans of praise to the bicycle as one of the most health-giving institutions a faint voice of warning sometimes is heard. Thus a recent medical writer in the St. James' Budget, while not denying the undoubted virtues of the bicycle exercise, points out that not all riders present that healthful appearance one might look for, and in fact there is seen among their number a type, ashen-hued and haggard, already recognized as the "bicycle face." Not so with tricycle riders—and here is where he looks for an explanation.

The distinguishing feature of the bicycle, and especially of the safety, this observer claims, is the difficulty of maintaining the equilibrium. "Learning" to ride, means mastering the art of keeping the machine upright. It has a tendency to fall to one side or the other all the time, which has to be counteracted by a special effort. The learner knows it very well to his cost; but once learned, he forgets about it, and does his balancing more or less automatically. Nevertheless, the effort is still there, and puts a constant, though unconscious, effort upon his brain and nervous system.

The reason why the bicycle has to be "learned" at all, is that the center of equilibrium in the brain requires to be taught the business of doing its duty under novel circumstances. The falling bicycle is maintained upright by a constant series of small muscular movements, which unconsciously adjust the weight in the proper position and are themselves controlled by a special brain-center, situated at the back of the head. The strain upon this center is incessant, though unmarked; and some people can not stand it for more than a short time. This it is that causes the headache and the nervous exhaustion.

Probably it does not affect those who begin very young, and possibly it affects those with either very tough or very dull nerves but little. Most of us, however, are obliged to live in such a way that our nervous systems become very susceptible to any unaccustomed strain, and those who are most likely to use the bicycle belong to the most susceptible classes. The nervous effort entailed by balancing the machine is too much for them. The explanation may strike some people as fantastic, but it is sound physiology, and it squares with the facts. Experienced cyclists often say that the tricycle, and even the old high bicycle—which requires less effort to balance—are less fatiguing for prolonged work, such as a tour, than the safety; yet the latter is lighter, quicker, and superior in nearly every respect, save that of stability. It is a question of balance.

"Wheeling" is not a pursuit that will suit everybody.

My Latest Book Review! Not Dead Yet

2011-12-17T12:06:00.003+01:00

Here is an interesting book that I reviewed for Pezcyclingnews. It is the story of Phil Southerland, who was diagnosed with diabetes at 7 months of age (!) and was not expected to live past 25. Not only has he done so, but he became a pro bike racer and now runs Team Type 1, a pro race team and website for diabetics. I have known a few diabetics and found his explanation of how they must manage their bodies every day to be clearly explained. It is impressive that someone can not only overcome this health issue but also inspire others to do the same. Worth reading on its own, and worth supporting the cause.

My review at Pez can be found here.

For more about Team Type 1, go here.

Ooh-la-la! Another Retro Ride...

2011-12-07T14:25:00.004+01:00

Because you can never have too many nice rides in Europe, France has now come up with its own modest version of L'Eroica: La Patrimoine. 2011 was the first year, with two routes of 35 and 65 kms. There is a charming video of this first try here:

LA PATRIMOINE from Benjamin Donadieu on Vimeo.

Details of the event, held in September, may be found en-Francais here.

My Latest Book Review! Italian Racing Bicycles

2011-12-03T00:26:00.004+01:00

"Cycling Literature" is my middle name these days with my third book review in a row on a Friday coming out today at Pezcyclingnews. You can read it in its entire glory here.

Amstel Gold 2012: I'll Be There!

2011-12-01T21:43:00.008+01:00

My frustration with trying to get into the Amstel Gold Tourist ride this year must have been heard as the organizers switched to a lottery format to prevent their computers from crashing again. So I did not have to fight with 40,000 people for the chance to ride the Limburger Alps but simply sent in my 5 Euros and waited for the result.

And the result is a positive one! I was notified today that I was one of the Chosen Few, so it will be just me and my friend the Thin Man and 11,000 others at the starting line on April 14, 2012. This is the day before the Amstel Gold pro race. I will be riding the 150 km route, which will probably feature enough hills to make me happy.

And I am considering riding it on my beautiful Raleigh Team Pro in tribute to Jan Raas, who won the professional race five times while riding a similar bike for the mighty Team Raleigh:

Let the training begin! For the cycling, not the Amstel drinking, for which I seem already prepared...

Another Look at L'Eroica 2011

2011-11-29T23:31:00.002+01:00

Here is a video showing the adventures of some goofy French cyclists. They clearly rode one of the shorter routes as they are leaving Gaoile in daylight. Sissies.

EROICA 2011 ROCK'N'ROLLIN from Julien Rideau on Vimeo.

My Latest Book Review!

2011-11-25T23:56:00.002+01:00

Read my latest book review, about the ground-breaking Team 7-Eleven, at Pezcyclingnews.com here.

Critical Dirt: A Different Kind of Ride in Germany

2011-11-20T19:44:00.006+01:00

In the December issue of TOUR magazine, which I received yesterday, there is a superbly-written article about a kind-of race across Eastern Germany, from Göttingen across the Harz Mountains, south through Leipzig and ending in Görlitz. "Kind-of" in that it has no official status and there are no start numbers given out to the participants. The whole idea of Critical Dirt is to avoid the tangled web of regulations so characteristic of German undertakings and to have fun.

The organizers have a sense of humour. The participant's package includes a cigarette for those wanting a relaxing smoke. Riders are given a rubber stamp with a number on it which they use at the finish to check in so that the organizers know who has made it and for whom a search party needs to be organized. The route is over paved roads, dirt tracks and forest trails, covering 500 kms over four days and involving around 1,000 m of climbing each day. It is ideal for cross bikes, but participants show up on mountain bikes, touring bikes and even fixed gear ones. Riders stay in youth hostels en route and at the finish line there is no banner or awards ceremony but a welcome case of beer.

The organizers are concerned about feeding the cyclist and have a serious chef. His recipes for the ride can be found at www.criticaldirt.com, and each day at the one food stop he serves up tasty meals at the Café GoGo, a moveable feast. The whole thing sounds charming and fun and is probably the only race I have heard of where the Chief Organizer shouts out "Be good to each other!" as the racers get underway.

There was a professional-quality film made of the 2010 Critical Dirt ride, which seems to have been a different route, only travelling in Saxony and involving race numbers. The food looks impressive. Enjoy!

CRITICAL FILM from e r t z u i ° film on Vimeo.

My Latest Book Review!

2011-11-18T19:24:00.002+01:00

Pezcyclingnews is running my latest book review, which covers Andrew Ritchie's interesting (and quite massive!) book about racing's early days: "Quest for Speed." You can read the review here.

Ride of the Falling Leaves: the Ahrtal

2011-11-06T18:54:00.006+01:00

After watching a recent episode of my favourite German travel program on television featuring the Ahr River, I checked the map and realized it was fairly close to Düsseldorf and since the weather looked like it would be good enough for cycling on Sunday, I enlisted my friend Henri to tackle another German river bike route. We both hoped it would work out better than the Sieg’s not-always-there bikepath.

Leaving the main train station at 7:02 on a slooooooooow S-Bahn train, we reached Cologne and transferred to the Eifel-Bahn, which took us west and south and brought us to Blankenheim’s station in another 90 minutes. The station is actually some distance from the town and it was a bit strange to get off and see nothing much besides the little station and some fog.

The route was well-marked, however, and we were soon swiftly rolling down the 5 kms or so to Blankenheim proper. Stopping to get our bearings in a park near the rather ugly 1950s Rathaus, we saw the impressive castle overlooking the town. It is now a youth hostel. There were signs for the Ahr bike route, including both regular ones and a big stone bike. We did not see the source of the Ahr, which apparently begins in someone’s basement, but we were soon following the tiny river eastwards.

The Ahr route is around 85 kms in length, and for the first 25 or so from Blankenheim it takes cyclists through fairly wild and unsettled countryside. Many of the trees had already shed their leaves so we took care riding the well-paved bike path. Where it was not paved, it was packed earth that allowed us to travel nearly as fasted. No ruts or holes. The Italians maintaining the bianca strada in Tuscany could learn something from German grading!

We passed around Ahrdorf and then on to Müsch, enjoying a generally downhill ride. It became apparent to us pretty soon that the Ahr bike route has been constructed on an old railway right-of-way, with very gradual grades. In one spot, the old railway retraining wall had been made into an exhibition showing the various kinds of rocks to be found in the Ahr Valley. There was also an interesting sign telling the story of a Wehrmacht supply train that got stuck here in March 1945 and how the locals cleaned it out, enjoying real butter for the first time in years.

We passed a very charming little chapel, built in 1620, near Antweiler. Soon after this our path ended and we found ourselves on the main Landstrasse. The path has a 5 km gap in it and the main road has to serve for the moment, although the speed is limited to 70 km/h for cars. Near Schuld we were back on our path, including a nice ride through a nicely-lit and -paved tunnel that brought us into Insul.

Continuing to follow the now-larger river (and getting a bit lost at one point), we made swift progress. When we arrived in Altenahr just after 1 pm we decided to find a place to eat. The weather was warm enough (just) to allow us to sit outside. We had some hearty food (pea soup for Henri, chanterelles in cream sauce with homemade spätzle for me) in this busy little town with its ruined castle high above before we rode through another short tunnel and into a gorge as the Ahr became more dramatic.

We were passing dramatic landscapes now, with hundreds of acres of vineyards all around us. There were many people as well, both cyclists and hikers, so we had to take care as we rode the bikepath.

Just before reaching Ahrweiler, we came to the massive convent, Kloster Clavarienberg. This is a huge building dominating the floodplain. Apparently founded in 1440 by a crusader who thought the hill looked like Calvary in the Holy Land, it was the site of series of chapels until the Franciscans arrived in the 17th Century and built a monastery. It had its own Stations of the Cross, which are still to be seen, and became a destination for pilgrims until the dissolution of the monasteries in 1803. After several unsuccessful attempts to operate a school there, it was taken over by Ursuline nuns in 1838, and new buildings were constructed at the end of the 19th Century. It remains a Catholic school today.

Time to take a break in Ahrweiler for a few minutes! Inhabited by the Romans (there are foundations of a large villa to be seen), the town’s existence was first recorded in the 9th Century. Ahrweiler was jammed with people on this Sunday afternoon, an unusual sight in Germany. All the stores were open and the restaurants were doing good business, primarily from senior citizens. This very charming town has an impressive gate, which was badly damaged in World War 2 during the battle that led to the famous taking of the nearby Remagen bridge. It had been walled entirely during the Middle Ages but suffered a great deal during the Thirty Years War. On May 1, 1689, the entire town was destroyed, leaving only ten buildings intact.

We had thought about having a coffee but decided to press on to Sinzig as it was getting cool and the cloud cover meant that we were not enjoying all that much light. We wanted to get the next train back as the line would take us directly to Düsseldorf. Ahrweiler marks the northern limits of the Eifel Mountains and as we passed nearby Bad Neuenahr the landscape gradually turning into a flatter, marshy environment. The signs continued to be excellent and we were soon in the rather unattractive town of Sinzig which, being directly on the Rhine, has an autobahn going right over it, and train tracks cutting it off from the river.

After buying our return tickets, we turned back to the only open establishment we saw in Sinzig, which turned out to be a most excellent café. Enjoying some homemade apple cake let us put everything into perspective. The Ahr route is beautiful and would have been better on a sunny day. I will come back to look into some of the vineyards and spend some more time in Ahrweiler and some of the other little towns. The return trip, on a rather crowded Regio train, was only 80 minutes. Although my GPS went beserk at one point and suddenly awarded us an unearned 26 kms, we did ride 85 kms, with a descent of around 500 m vertically over the route. Recommended!

Now this is a race promo...2012 Giro d'Italia

2011-11-05T12:18:00.002+01:00

After watching this promotional video, I think I should already start planning where I want to watch this race in May!

My First Bicycle

2011-11-01T19:14:00.004+01:00

While going through some old photos, I came upon a series showing me with my first bicycle in the summer of 1962. I am certain it was already many-times second-hand when it came to me. It was bright red and had been repainted with a brush. I don't remember actually learning to ride it, perhaps because those balloon tires were so wide the bike would not tip over! I also remember that a few years later it was passed to a neighbour's child and it eventually simply broke in two when the steel frame had had enough.

Ruhr Roundabout

2011-10-16T14:07:00.004+02:00

Taking advantage of the excellent, albeit chilly, weather, Tom thought we should go for a ride on Saturday. Tom, Rudiger and I met in Ratingen at 9:00 at the usual bakery and then proceeded to go out on a circuit of our favourite Ruhr riding, although, surprisingly, I am still quite stiff from l'Eroica.

Things did not go all that smoothly. First I had some shifting issues as we got into some climbs but Tom's mechanical skill and my minitool wrench solved that problem. As we were approaching Essen-Kettwig, Tom suddenly pulled over. One of his spokes had broken and the rear wheel looked pretty wobbly. We popped into the nearest bike shop which, of course, did not have suitable spokes so Tom decided to call his wife and get picked up rather than risk a wheel collapse. He would switch wheels at home and ride later in the day.

So Rudiger and I continued on the route. Rudiger knows all the little roads in the area and some of them were quite marvellous, while some were not in very good condition. All of them seemed to involve a great deal of climbing. We rode through Langenberg, which I had ridden to with Tom before, and it seems there is no way you can enter or leave this place with massive climbing/descending being involved.

Except for getting stuck behind big tractors on the smallest roads, things went pretty well until we go to Wulfrath. I lost Rudiger in one of the roundabouts and it took me a while to realize this. At this point I thought I had put in enough riding for the day and would just go home but I wanted to call Rudiger. I did not have his number, so I called Tom. It turned out that Tom had gone out on his bike and had just crashed on the bike path after hitting a pole. His helmet was broken and he was worried about his thumb. He landed on his cellphone and it was broken so that he had no screen, meaning he could receive calls and not send any. I wished him the best and continued on my ride.

Unlike the much better roads Rudiger would have picked, I rode along the boring bike path next to a busy Landstrasse back to Ratingen before turning back for home. At the end I decided to make a quick trip to the Luna ice cream place in Grafenberg as after 98 km and 1100 m of climbing I felt I deserved it.

Tom had his thumb x-rayed and was relieved that nothing was broken. Rudiger called me later in the evening so I have his number now. Such are the unexpected adventures of cycling!

Mountain Biking: Not As Safe As Road Biking

2011-10-14T12:38:00.002+02:00

This is the current YouTube sensation and features a South African pro cyclist and some wildlife. Nobody seriously hurt, luckily.

My 2012 L'Eroica Project

2011-10-11T18:44:00.004+02:00

My New Year's Resolutions did not work out so well this year and the one thing that bothers me in particular has been my inability to lose weight. I blame this entirely on living in Germany, bad weather, etc. and never on my own laziness but hope springs eternal. L'Eroica 2011 was a great experience for me and I would like to do it again but with less effort and pain, so the key to this is shedding the weight and increasing power.

Although the Peugeot was an excellent bicycle for the event, I somehow feel that riding an Italian bike would be more appropriate. I had planned to bring my Chesini (than which no bike could look more Italian!) but it would have been necessary to change the brake cable routing to be in conformity with l'Eroica's rules and could require a change of levers. I have a year to work this out.

However, to motivate myself I have now purchased a vintage Chesini wool jersey. It is slightly too small at the moment so my goal is to lose enough weight to wear it comfortably for l'Eroica 2012. Let's see if I can follow through on this Simple Plan!

L'Eroica 2011: Riding with the Heroes

2011-10-09T18:55:00.018+02:00

Over the last few years, my interest in classic lightweight racing bicycles has increased, as much as I enjoy riding my S-Works Tarmac E5, Specialized’s original semi-revolutionary Tarmac model. This is partially because buying a new full-carbon bike (besides being insanely expensive for the newest Tarmac SL4) would not be any advantage over my current 2005 model but also because I have discovered that I enjoying riding steel bicycles that are much better than I bought when I started riding in 1972 and could not afford a lightweight bike with high-end components. Not that they would have been that easy to find in Oakville, Ontario forty years ago. I like the interesting colours of old bicycles, unlike today’s boring carbon black/white/occasional red schemes. I like the stories about the people who started workshops, who brazed the frames, who raced them in iconic events. I also enjoy hanging out with other like-minded people and admiring their bikes and riding with them. The Klassikerausfahrtgruppe in Düsseldorf’s monthly rides have been great fun, although slow and disorganized, and they always feature coffee and cake and good talk.

Several years ago I read about l’Eroica, an old bike event in Chianti in Italy that took riders over the old gravel roads of Tuscany and I was determined to join in the fun. I was unable to go last year although I had registered for personal reasons, including a move so recent my bikes had not yet arrived, but I was determined not to miss out this year. With registrations limited to 3000 and of those only 500 for foreigners below age 60, I made sure to sign up early and had all my travel plans for late September (registration, flight, car rental, hotel) finalized by March. But no matter how carefully you plan things can go awry. My riding buddy Nick changed jobs and was unable to come but found a suitable replacement in Bernd, who, like Nick, lives close to Bonn. The other problem was that the bike I planned to bring, a c. 1987 Chesini, was not suitable for l’Eroica under the rules. The rules require a pre-1987 frame (I really would have been fine there), shifters on the downtube, pedals with cages and straps and non-aero brake levers, meaning the brake cables are not routed along the handlebars but are arced in a loop from the tops of the levers. This is from the translation of the Italian, which is not totally clear, but rather than go to the effort of changing the brake levers on the Chesini, I simply switched to my stand-by l’Eroica bicycle, a 1981 Peugeot PXN-10.

Up until this month, I had only ridden the bicycle once, to Ricci-Sports just after I bought it in February to make sure it was mechanically-sound. I checked it over last week and made sure that I could remove the stem and the seatpost for transport and then changed the tires from the original 20 mm ones to nice new 28 mm Continental 4Seasons Grand Prix tires. The biggest challenges was getting off the old rear tire which had gotten so stiff after thirty years that I was thinking more kitchen knife than tire levers to get it off. After a titanic struggle, victory was mine and a quick ride down the street showed everything was working fine, so I packed the Peugeot in my bike case and waited for the Big Day.

Thursday, September 29: Bernd arrives in the evening with his bike and, happily, his company car, a BMW wagon. This means we don’t need two taxis the next morning for our early flight but can pack everything in his car and leave the car at the airport in long-term parking. Bernd’s Gios is really nice but he will need to change the brake levers as well. We pack his back in my bike bag, with the wheel in pockets in either side packed in padded bags. This is the first time the bag has been used. It was meant for carry a bike on the train or in a car but we will risk flying with it and see what happens. Unlike my hardshell case, the bike is not terribly well-protected but we pad the frame with foam pipe insulation and hope for the best.

Friday, September 30: We are up at 4:00 am and are soon out on the road with all our baggage. The streets are empty and we get to the airport quickly. It takes a while to figure out where the long-term parking is but we find a good spot near the elevator and drag all our gear to the SkyTrain to take us to the check-in. It’s all a bit awkward, as usual, but we get checked in quickly. There is a moment of panic when the clerk says that our reservation is only for one bike, but luckily I have all the paperwork organized and she sees that we have paid for two bikes. Time for a coffee and a croissant. There are already a lot of people at the airport and after a short wait to get through security we are in the departure area and our flight leaves punctually at 6:30 for Milan and we were there just after 8:00.

The baggage arrives fairly quickly in Milan and once we find our bike cases we make our way through the terminal (not designed for people with bike cases since we cannot get through any sliding doors without unloading our baggage cart first) and quickly find the Europcar rental counter. I had booked a Alfa Romeo 159 station wagon class car and we were delighted to be given the keys to a very nice diesel Passat wagon. This was similar to our office car, which is a sedan, but had a standard transmission. I let Bernd drive as I am not that enthusiastic about shifting gears not on a bike and I set up the TomTom to navigate us to Chianti.

Most of the four hour drive from Milan was really boring. The autostrada was quite busy, although we did not run into any traffic jams near Milan, and there are an amazing number of toll stops along the way. The road passes over a flat plain and the light was very strange as it filtered through a kind of damp fog. There were signs all over the highway about fog so this is pretty common. It is quite nasty and I was glad when we approached the hills of Tuscany.

Bernd had to make a business call so we stopped for a break at a highway restaurant. It was very busy but getting drinks was the work of a moment. Unlike German highway stops, you don’t have to pay to use the washroom (although there are those road tolls). I found the store quite interesting as it had a lot of local food products, including Parma hams, Parmesan cheese and Chianti wines.

Back on the road just outside of Florence we ran into a traffic jam, the kind where the traffic comes to a complete stop. Everyone turned off their engines and stood around in the sunshine and after 45 minutes we were able to get going again. There was no indication whatsoever as to what had caused the interruption: no police cars, damaged vehicles or construction. Maybe it was an accident that had happened hours earlier. In any event, we soon left the autostrada and were driving along a wonderful road to Castellina in Chianti, where we would be staying for the next three nights.

We easily found our little hotel, which is in an ancient stone building. It has a beautiful swimming pool and is surrounded by the cypress trees found so typically in Tuscany. From the street there is a view towards Castellina proper (a 5 minute walk) and its impressive castle, known as the Rocca. We unpacked our gear and reassembled the bikes in the courtyard before going for a walk into town.

Castellina was originally an Etruscan town (there is a 6th Century BC mound grave not far from our hotel), then after the Roman era became an important garrison town for Florence. It was the seat of the Chianti League, which included the nearby towns of Radda and Gaoile, but due to raids and pillaging the Florentines built a wall around it, along with the Rocca, in the 14th Century. It retains some of the architectural style of the 14th Century and it was a delight to amble down the main pedestrian-only street and look at the little shops and restaurants. We went to the tourist information and picked up a nice map of the Chianti region that shows all the wineries but would also serve as a good map for cycling. I bought some postcards and then we had lunch in front of a little café. Tortellini con funghi for 5 Euros, and it was very enjoyable although it came in a plastic dish. On the way back to the hotel we looked at the Via delle Volte, an underground tunnel with windows on one side allowing you to look into the Chianti countryside and shops and restaurants on the other side. It is a flourishing place for tourists, but the town’s population of 2800 today is only half of what it was in the 1930s.

Time to test the bikes! We rode out of the hotel and decided to head towards Radda in Chianti, 13 kms away. There was a bit of fumbling with the bikes and we were off, with a nice descent after the first turn. It was here that I discovered that Weinmann brakes on old Peugeots are singularly ineffective. The brake blocks made a lot of noise but it took a great deal of strength to slow down. However, the road was in excellent condition and there was no traffic to speak of, so with care I could maintain some good speed.

We proceeded to enjoy the late afternoon sun and the wonderful roads with their gentle curves. Road engineering in Chianti is very good: the grades are reasonable and potholes a rarity. I was getting used to the handling and shifting of the Peugeot (both very nice) when I suddenly felt that sinking feeling that indicates a puncture is taking place. Pulling off the road, I found a very small hole in the tube and no glass shards or metal bits that would have cause it. Bernd’s suspicion was that the 1981-era rim tape had dried out enough to cause the tube to rub against bare metal. We found an empty wrapper on the side of the road and used it as a boot where the rim tape was insufficient and replaced the tube. The frame pump of the Peugeot worked nicely and within a few minutes we were back on the road to Radda.

While we were doing the tire repaid, a group of three cyclists, all on old bicycles, went by. They were not all that fast, so we quickly caught up and joined them for a while. On the descent into Radda everyone’s aged rubber brake blocks screamed in that typical old bike fashion. We stopped to look at Radda and take a few photos but as the sun was looking like it would set soon, we reversed course and rode back into Castellina. I was a bit surprised that our little ride of 23 kms had included 400 m of climbing but I was mentally prepared for a lot of uphill riding in Tuscany. The Peugeot was a delight to ride, light and responsive. The Simplex Super LJ derailleurs shift very smoothly and very fast, although I overshifted twice and dropped the chain so that needs to be adjusted. The Maillard freewheel on the bicycle has huge cogs, ideal for climbing, so the French knew what would work in a place like Tuscany. The Weinmann brakes, on the other hand, will be replaced sooner rather than later with a set of Mafac Competitions that might actually slow the bike down. The only issue with the bike (besides the brakes and the rim tape) is that the cages for the pedals seem too short and I cannot get the cleats on the shoes to stay in one spot on the pedals. It is hard to find big cages for big feet since only small people seemed to ride racing bikes in the Good Old Days.

After a quick shower and change, it was time for dinner. It was another pleasant walk and we looked at various restaurants. One next to the Rocca looked very good but there was a children’s birthday party going on or just ending and the noise was deafening so we beat a retreat to the lower level of town where we found a restaurant that did an antipasto buffet. It looked good so we enjoyed a lightish meal with lots of olives and mushrooms, marinated vegetables and bruschetta. And on the the way back to the hotel we discovered what might be the best ice cream place in Italy.

Saturday, October 1: Getting up early, we took the bikes into Castellina for a coffee and a pastry before starting our planned morning ride. Properly fortified with excellent Italian espresso, we rode into the cool air, heading west along the Via Val d’Elsa/SR 429. We had a fantastic vista to the left as we rode, looking deep down into the valley, riding past vineyards. The morning sun had a marvellous golden quality to it and the enveloping cool fresh air, scented by the pine forests on our right, sharpened our senses. There was no traffic and the road, perfectly surfaced and whose curves kept presenting us with new vistas, took us on a glorious gentle descent all the way to Poggibonsi, 20 kms in all. As short as it was, this has to rank as one of the most beautiful bicycle rides I have ever experienced.Of course, all things come to an end. Poggibonsi is not very nice, a busy town that supplies those things that picturesque villages like Castellina do not. The traffic was heavy, the roads not as well-maintained and our route took us over the Siena-Florence highway and through an industrial zone. But soon we were riding again in the countryside, leaving the SR 429 and joining another road, SP 63 that took us south and west. This road required us to climb as we left Poggibonsi and we were passed by a fair amount of traffic, including numerous tour buses. Concentrating on our climbing, we were occasionally treated to a glimpse of our goal, and that of the bus tourists: San Gimignano.

A steady 7 km uphill brought us finally to this remarkable town, a UNESCO World Heritage Site. It has been nicknamed “the Manhattan of the Renaissance” due to its remarkable towers. First founded by the Etruscans, the town, located on a major trade route, had become a city-state by the 12th Century. The wealthy merchant families demonstrated their wealth and power (and competitiveness) through the erection of towers and by 1300 around 72 of them had been constructed. But the advent of the Black Death in 1348 reduced San Gimignano’s importance and it became a possession of Florence. Over the intervening years, many of the towers collapsed or were simply torn down (as was the case with the towers in other Tuscan towns) but today 14 of them still exist. Walking through the old town is a remarkable experience, even when walking with cleats on cobblestones and pushing a bike. It was cool and shadowy and eventually we reached the central part of the town, which features no fewer than four impressive squares. Some mountain bikers we had passed on the way up came to the square and asked us whether we would be doing l’Eroica. When Bernd said that we were doing the 132 km route, the man said it was very difficult. Ah, good to hear! Well, I guess to be considered a Hero of the Road, you need to suffer a bit. Some cold water consumed, a few postcards bought and some photos taken, we soon headed back out through the city wall and onto the road again.
We had seen a crossroads on our way up that looked promising and took this climbing road towards Bibbiano. We had an excellent view of San Gimignano from across the valley and after stopping to take a photo I had that sinking sensation again: flat tire No. 2! Another tiny hole meant another quick repair but it was clear I would have to replace the rim tape. We were now on the return leg to Castellina anyway so we just took it easy on the way back.

At Colle di Val d’Elsa we got a bit confused in our directions and Bernd, who speaks Spanish but not Italian, asked an elderly gentlemen for assistance. His directions were very complex, delivered in a thick Tuscan accent making comprehension that much harder, but we thanked him and kept going. We were on the road we wanted it turned out, although there was more traffic than we would have liked.Heading east, we crossed the autostrada again and came to Staggia, where we turned right and soon saw a sign for Castellina. Near the crossroads was the Bartali winery, founded in 1927, which I had to photograph in memory of the great Tuscan cycling pro, Gino Bartali. And ahead of us the road went up and up and up and up: 10 kms of fairly steep climbing was our lot, making up for that 20 km of gentle descent first thing in the morning. It was a hard ride in the hot sun but there was lots to look at on the way up and soon we were back at the hotel after completing 66 km of cycling, with 1100 m of climbing. But not before stopping for more ice cream.

We packed Bernd’s bike in the car and took my back wheel (I removed the tire) as well since we were now going to spend the afternoon in Gaoile and were certain to find a bike mechanic there. Gaiole is the epicentre of l’Eroica, which began in 1997 with 92 participants and has blossomed into a major cycling/tourism event that sees Gaoile, with its 2700 inhabitants, completely overrun by crazy bicycle people, Italian and foreign, for several days at the end of September.

After passing through Radda we had a nice descent into Gaoile, about 22 kms from Castellina, and saw signs for parking. The place was already very crowded but we got a good spot not far from the flea market and also close enough to a marquee under which four mechanics were working. Bernd explained that he wanted his brake levers changed and the mechanic found a set of inexpensive ones and agreed to change the levers, the brake cables and the bar tape. For my wheel some new rim tape would be found. With that settled, we then went to look more closely at Vintagebikeville.

The main street of Gaoile was filled with cyclists and bicycles. People were eating and drinking in the few restaurants and cafés to be found in town, while others were fixing bikes or just looking at bikes. There were at least a dozen Colnago Super/Mexico bikes in Saronni Red like the one I own, lots of Gioses (Gioii?), hundred of celeste-green Bianchis, and many bikes whose makers were unknown to me. I met up with some of the Klassikerausfahrtgruppe who were proudly riding their German bikes (Rickerts) and I heard languages and accents from all over. In addition to the Italians, the largest contingent was German, followed by UK riders (usually recognizable by the big saddlebags they like, as well as their odd bicycle brands) and there were plenty of Americans too. There were many interesting jerseys being worn as well and I could see that I would be making up a part of the big Peugeot presence with my black-and-white checkered jersey.

After familiarizing ourselves with the town, we then walked back towards the car to see what we might find of interest in the flea market. This was quite substantial although prices were not particularly low. I found some nice tricolori tabs for the pedal straps on the Chesini, a new Peugeot cap to match my jersey and some triocolori socks. There were many bikes for sale and some were quite reasonably priced if you could figure out how to take one back. There was a vendor from Munich selling NOS (New Old Stock) bikes from a store that had gone bankrupt and I was tempted by a nice Campagnolo-equipped Torpado for 550 Euros. But Torpado is a brand that thrills no collector and I also reminded myself that I had sworn to ride my bikes instead of just accumulating more. Bernd was quite eager for me to add to the flock but in the end I was happy I had not brought enough cash with me in any event!

On our way into the building that serves as headquarters and registration central for l’Eroica, we passed a gentleman in period clothing with a Bianchi. He was happily posing for photos so I took the opportunity. There are many people who ride l’Eroica in knickerbockers and wool jerseys, with flat caps, goggles and tubular tires around their shoulders and a number of them were walking around today. The look is terrific but I for one would not think of riding steep gravel roads without a helmet. And with 30C temperatures and no shade, I am not so sure how well wool works.

There was a section where foreigners could pick up their registrations and I was impressed with how quickly everything went. I was given a nice old-style musette (the food bag racers still use) with great big buttons on the side, along with a cloth bag with two zippers and pockets for a wallet and road book. It had my jersey number, my bike frame number (to be attached with the included bits of string–no plastic zipties for l’Eroica!), a cycling cap, a magazine about the history of l’Eroica, some brochures about other rides and the all-important carnet, or road book, which not only indicated which roads we would ride but also had places for the control stamps en route.
Le Coq Sportif, a French cycling clothing brand that is seeing a rebirth and is a l’Eroica sponsor, had a stand in the building and I bought my l’Eroica wool jersey, with two maroon strips and “l’Eroica” printed in script on a cream background. There were photos of Tuscan cycling history to look at but it was pretty crowded so we went outside to look at more bicycles and things to buy.

Bernd spent some time with the Gios people, showing off his bike and buying Gios memorabilia, and I took photos of some really interesting bikes. Although I had a soft spot for a beautiful restored Bianchi (with the weird Campagnolo Paris-Roubaix shifting system that requires you to have several hands plus eyes in the back of your head to shift), my favourite bike was a restored 1937 Gagliardi, a red bicycle with yellow lugs and another peculiar pre-War shifting system (an Osgear, perhaps?). There was an interesting Dürkopp from Germany, with a top-tube mounted Fichtel-Sachs gear lever, an excellent early Automoto and, seemingly the only one ever outside of a collection of vintage posters, a Royal Fabric.

The more modern bikes on display were all mouth-watering, including a Colnago time trial bike and a fine red Olmo. I also enjoyed taking photos of some bikes with hideous paint schemes and/or handlebar tape. Sometimes the Italians cross the boundaries of good taste and there was one era when Colnago, with fades and nets and mismatching colours, led the field. Brrr...

Of course, you see some particularly novel things in flea markets. I was very impressed by the fellow who came with a beat-up old bike with the handlebars wrapped in rope. And sitting on the rope quite placidly was a full-grown owl. This got quite a bit of attention, and someone even stroked the owl's head without it reacting in a bird-of-prey way.

Our wandering took us to a pizzeria for a late lunch and after some more walking around we packed the Gios and my new-and-improved rear wheel into the car and drove up the big hill towards Radda. We turned right and drove along the ridge for some distance until we came to the old monastery in Badia Coltibuono, established in 1050 but which had its heyday under Lorenzo “the Magnificent” di Medici in the 15th Century. It is now a vineyard and bed-and-breakfast but we were here to join the Klassikerausfahrtgruppe for a dinner in the adjacent gourmet restaurant. The wine was superb and the food outstanding. There are worse things than living in Chianti...

Sunday, October 2: We got up at 4:30 and drove the car, bikes and stuff for the day in the back, back to Gaoile for the start of l’Eroica. It was pitch dark but already the village was active as those starting the long routes (205 and 132 km) were getting ready to leave. We were directed to a parking place next to a warehouse and quickly got the bikes set up and headed to the start line. Everyone leaving this early was supposed to have lights. Bernd had a good strong light mounted to his helmet and I had a LED light on the handlebars, as well as a highly-visible taillight under the seat. I was wearing armwarmers and long-fingered glove liners because it was quite cold but I knew in a short while we would be sweating. We pulled up to the control stand and had our cards stamped and at 6:10 we officially departed for the 132 km course of l’Eroica with some trepidation.

Leaving the town and following the trail of blinking taillights, I soon realized that I could barely see anything and began to wish I had brought my regular glasses. I can see well enough with non-prescription sunglasses during the day but nothing at all was visible. I was just grateful that the roads were so well-paved that potholes were not a concern. As it was I rode much more slowly than I had planned at this stage.

After some time passed (and I had no real idea how much), the course turned and we were suddenly on a steep gravel climb. I was to learn later that this took us up to the castle of the famous Brolio wine estate but it was enjoyable to climb in the darkness, our way lit by oil lanterns burning on both sides of the road all the way up. It was still cold but surrounded by other cyclists and the sound of whirring gears made the climb a unique experience.

The sun rose around 7:15 and it began to warm up. The gravel roads were not too bad, although there were some soft and sandy parts to watch out for, along with dust, but we made decent progress. The road constantly rose and fell and there was a startingly steep (but blessedly short) climb around the 20 km mark which must have been a 20 percent grade. My gearing was fine for this but the pedal/shoe combination was to give me some trouble for the rest of the day and I rode all the descents in the drops, getting as much braking power as the pathetic Weinmanns were up to.

Bernd was riding a bit ahead of me and I was riding for a while with a young Englishman on a very nice Mercian. The gravel was loose and as we came around a corner he lost traction and went down in a great cloud of dust. No damage to himself or the bike but it just showed how difficult the roads are. This was his fourth l’Eroica.

I caught up to Bernd soon after since he was standing by the side of the dusty ride, his tubular tire off and struggling to put on his spare tire. It was my first experience with tubulars and I found it quite instructive as he placed the glue tape on the rim, got most of the tire on, stripped off the top layer of tape to explose the glue and then rolled the last tire on. This sounds easier than it was as tubular tires do not want to go easily onto rims, but between the two of us we managed it. The dust was probably not ideal for the gluing surface either but it seemed to be okay.

We skirted around Siena (a bit disappointing as I hoped to see something of the famous town) and a few more climbs and descents brought us to Radi at Km 48 and 9:40. It was a bit startling to take 3 ½ hours to go 48 kms without having walked but the road conditions had not been ideal.

The food stop at Radi was great. There was salami and Chianti, as promised, but also things more suitable for a long ride including some of the excellent local cake, tortona. The Peugeot’s frame only allows for a single water bottle so I took care to stay hydrated and fill up wherever possible. There was warm tea here which hit the spot and soon we were off again. Bernd, who had been considering riding the 75 km route since he was worried that he did not have another tubular in case of a flat, was very cheerful now as he had managed to buy two tubulars for 30 Euros from a mechanic at the food stop.

There was a very serious climb at Murlo, around 55 km into the ride, and I surprised myself a bit by being able to gently ride all the way up through the very steep gravel incline, working my way around people who were having to walk. Many of the old bicycles had gearing suitable for racing on paved roads and while this may have worked for young racers (and I saw plenty of younger riders able to cope), it was hard going for a lot of the senior members of the group.

Going down the other side was quite terrifying as well as it was very steep and the gravel unstable but eventually we reached a flatter section of gravel road. The roads are fairly wide but not well-maintained and there are stretches of washboard surface. I tried to ride a smoother path in the middle but the roads were open to cars, which came by all too frequently, raising dust clouds and forcing me onto the washboard sections, which were really terrible. L’Eroica wants to be compared to the Tour of Flanders but having ridden in Flanders I would have to say the Strada Bianca, the White Roads of Tuscany, are much worse. Washboard is much harder than cobblestones as you are constantly slamming into another gravel ridge. At least the people at Peugeot in Romilly-sur-Seine knew how to put a strong bike together since nothing fell off in spite of all the jarring.

We bumped our way to the next food stop at Asciano at Km 84.4, with the time card stamped at 12:08. There were huge numbers of cyclists at this stop and we refilled our bottles and our stomaches with lots of good food. There were two ladies in period costume next to a cauldron over a wood fire, offering up bowls of ribollita, the famous Tuscan white bean stew. It was quite delicious, dribbled over with a bit of olive oil, but perhaps not the ideal food for a hot summery day involving strenuous effort. And the next stretch was indeed strenuous...

Leaving Asciano we immediately began another climb on gravel but this time it was so steep that I had to walk from about halfway up. Reaching the top I was stunned to see a whole series of similar climbs ahead. The next stretch was the most difficult of the entire day as it was very hot and we had a surprising amount of traffic go by (although at this point any single car was too much traffic!). It was very uncomfortable to walk in the cleated shoes and pretty scary to ride downhill each time over the top. Progress was very slow and the Peugeot and I were covered with a layer of white dust by the time we reached the next paved road at Torre e Castello after 11 kms of Gravel Hell. There was a fountain in the village but someone also had a hose running so cyclists could fill up on water. I really needed this. No sign of Bernd anywhere but I thought I would find him at the next food stop.

The next stretch of road was very good, a fast descent followed by a climb that brought us to Castelnuevo Berardenga at Km 101.5. It had taken me 2 hours and 7 minutes to ride/walk/ride/walk 17 kms, probably my slowest time ever on a bike. The signs directed me right into the heart of the town and it was a pleasure to ride through the cool dark streets.

The main square was packed with hundreds of cyclists, many of them relaxing on comfortable chairs. I had my card stamped by a trio of officials who were clearly celebrating the centenary of Italian unification as they wore wonderful fantasy uniforms and, in one case at least, fake moustaches. I was surprised not to see Bernd so after 15-20 minutes I left him a phone message then got back on the bike for the last stretch.

It started off very well and I made good time until I reached my seventh stretch of Strada Bianca at Km 118. At this point I was very tired and my left leg was hurting from walking in loose gravel and sliding with the cleats so I resigned myself to doing a bit more walking. I was now going back on the route we had ridden first thing in the morning and had a chance to see the castle of Brolio in the distance. Riding/walking/riding brought me to a steep climb next to it and then one finally scary gravel descent at Km 121 and I was on excellent pavement. It was mainly downhill but the last 11 km felt endless. But soon I was on the outskirts of Gaiole and riding across the finish line, receiving a specially-labelling bottle of Chianti and a Siennese speciality cookie.

Bernd was there waiting for me to come in. It turned out he had completely missed the last food stop and had had to struggle to Gaoile with minimal water. We walked together back through the town for one last time and put our bikes in the Passat and headed back to Castellina, proud of our efforts.

After getting cleaned up, we walked (unsteadily) back to the pedestrian street and enjoyed a fine dinner of green salad followed by pasta with porcini mushrooms with a glass of Chianti. Of course, on the way back to the hotel we had to stop for ice cream. Actually, we each had two servings of ice cream this time! I was ready to sleep by 9:30 but Bernd was worried he would wake up in the middle of the night as we had had so many early days on this trip. This was not to be an issue as we were both sound asleep within minutes. Our day's effort had been 133 kms with 2188 m of climbing. Or walking.

Monday, October 3: Our plan this morning was to get back on the bikes for a recovery ride to Radda, where we would have breakfast. After riding the descent out of Castellina, Bernd said his legs were really dead so we decided to just go back to the hotel and pack up the bikes after finding breakfast. Next to the swimming pool was a hose so we were able to wash the dust off the bikes and our shoes. I decided to go for a swim but although the pool was really beautiful, it was unheated and still in shadows at this time of day so a few lengths was all I needed. My leg was quite sore and the swimming helped.

Our timing was actually quite good as our hotel was serving breakfast and I had more totally delicious Italian coffee along with some croissants, followed by a bout of postcard writing. The Post Office was right next to the hotel so I was able to get some nice Italian stamps and send everything off. Bags packed, we said our goodbyes to our pleasant hosts and drove out of Castellina to the north.

We had discussed how we might go back to Milan with most of the day ahead of us and decided to make a stop in Lucca and look around there. It took about two hours to do the drive and we parked out the outskirts of the city in a big lot and walked through the gate in the impressive city wall. Lucca is a gorgeous city but there are so many cyclists you have to be careful not to be run over by people doing their shopping. There are no cars in the central part of the city, which is wonderful, and it was fun to look at the many stylish little shops. We had some panini and coffee in the main square and enjoyed looking around. There were banners advertising the reopening of the museum in Puccini’s birthplace and lots of people walking around.

Returning to the car, we continued to drive northwards, passing the great marble quarries at Carrara and turning off to visit Lerici, a small city on the Mediterranean that Bernd had visited on a bike trip in 1985. It is in Liguria, on the edge of the famous Cinque Terre, and was very picturesque, overlooked by a fortress. There was a yacht harbour and several beaches, pretty brightly-painted houses and lots of ice cream places, one of which received our patronage. It was quite hot and it was sad to leave the beaches and palm trees and take the autostrada back to the Malpensa airport north of Milan. It was also expensive, probably costing 45 Euros in tolls!

We got to the airport but could not find a gas station, so I restarted the TomTom and it directed us a few kilometers away to where we could fill up. Driving the big station wagon nearly 900 kms, we had averaged 5.2 l/100 km, bringing the total cost for diesel fuel to exactly 80 Euros. Bernd has a company car but thought that if he were to buy his own, the Passat would be ideal.

We checked in without any issues and dropped off the bike cases in the Bulky Luggage area. Bernd later realized he still had his l’Eroica wine in his backpack and since we could not put it into the already-checked bags, he was able to check the backpack and thus save his hard-earned wine for consumption in Germany. Our flight was an hour late leaving Malpensa, so by the time we got to Düsseldorf, got our bags, made our way back to Bernd’s car and drove to my place it was after midnight. But we both agreed the trip had been a great success and are already considering doing l’Eroica again in 2012. For anyone considering riding it, it is a wonderful experience: stunning scenery, great people and a marvellous atmosphere. Yes, I really am willing to do it again but I plan to do it with shoes without cleats, and with much better brakes!

One Sweet Road: the Sauerlandradring

2011-09-28T21:47:00.001+02:00

August 28/29, 2011

One of the founding Lost Boys and the only participant except for me to have ridden all six of our group’s European Tours (Black Forest, Vosges, French Alps, Dolomites, Pyrenees/Languedoc and the Austrian Alps), my friend Dr. Chef realized that following a speech he was to give in Croatia, he would then be able to pop into Düsseldorf and visit me for a few days of Nordrhein-Westfalen cycling. I had brought his titanium Ritchey BreakAway with me when I drove back after this year’s Lost Boys Tour in Mayrhofen so he had something suitable to ride (although I needed to loan him the rear wheel of my Tarmac as he had broken a spoke in Austria and Shimano tubeless rims need special spokes).

The weather looked passable for the weekend. Dr. Chef arrived in the afternoon of Saturday, August 27, so I took Monday off so that we would have two riding days. I arranged a rental car and was delighted when I had a very good on-line price and even happier when Sixt, whose office is within walking distance of my apartment, offered me an automatic Golf Plus when I signed in. Automatics are unheard-of in German rental cars that are not in the luxury class. The Golf Plus is a taller version of the popular regular VW Golf, almost mini-minivan-like in proportions, resembling a guppy. But the extra height meant extra space for bicycles.

After going to the airport, Saturday was spent visiting the Altstadt in Düsseldorf, introducing Dr. Chef to Uerige Alt-Bier (of which he approved) and attending a variety show at the Apollo with my friend Uwe from Münsterland. As a warm-up ride on Sunday, we participated in an RTF (Radtourenfahrt) put on by a club in Essen. I brought my steel Marinoni touring bike as the Tarmac was now hors de combat and after we registered and were making our way out to the road the bike, which is probably the only Marinoni in Germany, drew a lot of attention. An older gentleman was particularly excited about it and then I noticed he had a Rickert shirt and was riding a nice blue Rickert so of course I had to talk to him about this. His name was Hartmut and he told me that he was going to ride in Düsseldorf at the Klassikerausfahrt ride the next week. I said I would be on the lookout for him. He is a serious collector of Rickerts, owning a dozen, between complete bikes and frames. I told him mine was a really nice purple colour and he really lit up, saying he had never seen on in this colour before. He also pointed out that I did not need to worry as we ride different frame sizes!

We took the shortish route of 77 kms as we had plans for the evening. The ride was very well-marked, with only one turn that was confusing to everyone, and, as usual with RTFs, took us through some of the most scenic areas around. Of course, I did not realize that the course would take us south and west back towards Düsseldorf and my apartment! I had ridden some of the sections before but enjoyed them nonetheless. The route generally took us along quiet backroads although at times there was some traffic, a problem that you cannot get around in this, the most densely-populated part of Germany. That evening we took the Golf Guppy to Brühl, between Cologne and Bonn, and attended a lovely classical concert in an old church near the impressive Baroque castle that is one of the finest buildings in NRW.

Getting up early the next morning, we headed south and east to a part of NRW that I had been hoping to ride in since I arrived here last year: the Sauerland. This region is sparsely-settled and has hills and woods throughout. It is a region that has some tourism and is noted for winter sports, actually offering some downhill skiing but we were after something else this cool August day: the Sauerlandradring.

We scooted down various Autobahns but eventually the road became quite narrow and rural, with a speed limit of 70 kms for a good distance. We drove around a big reservoir and after just over two hours of travelling reached the parking lot at the Finnentrop train station. The bikes were quickly assembled and we immediately got confused by the GPS route until I remembered that we would ride the Sauerlandradring in reverse.

The Sauerlandradring is an 84 km route that takes in a number of small towns as it travels through four communes (Finnentrop, Eslohe, Schmallenberg and Lennestadt). The first part of the route we travelled was similar to other marked bicycle routes in Germany, following secondary roads, bike paths and, occasionally, main roads or forest tracks. The GPS arrow pointed us nicely along the route and we soon were riding along the banks of the Lenne River, which had been canalized in some places, and then along the main road in Grevenbrück, where there was bit of a nasty climb on a dirt track, before we were able to cruise onwards past Lennestadt and then to the extremely charming village of Saalhausen, where we stopped for some photos but were disappointed that, this being Monday, pretty much everything was closed.

The village has 2,000 residents and is dominated by a church built around 1900, although the records indicating settlement of Saalhausen go back to the 13th Century. It has a Kurpark and some cute little hotels and cafés but finding no place for coffee we pressed on. Although we had not ridden so far, it was not warm (around 14C max) and looked like rain.

The next stretch of road was quite busy but still safe and we made good time as we passed the Cutlery Museum in Fleckenburg. Now we went up a long hill that brought us into Schmallenberg, around 35 kms into our ride. Time for a break and we cruised down the main road into the Altstadt. Although there were plenty of people around shopping, it did not look quite so promising but my eagle eye suddenly spied a Konditorei, which even better than a mere Bäckerei! We put our bikes against the front wall and entered Cake Heaven, otherwise known as the Bäckerei Café Pension Paul Dommes, established in 1914. The front of the place had showcases with wonderful cakes and breads and we made our choice and took a seat in the apricot-coloured café at the side. The cake was delicious and was surprisingly inexpensive. Dr. Chef insisted that rather than our usual coffee we try some hot chocolate as he had seen some delivered to another table and it was also excellent.

The Café Paul Dommes also offers eight guestrooms at extremely reasonable prices so I am already planning to go back, although the railway only goes to Finnentrop. Actually, the railway is the reason we were riding the Sauerlandradring because the next stretch, between Schmallenberg and Finnentrop, is almost exclusively a rails-to-trails route featuring 44 kms of perfectly-paved bikeway, cruising through the scenic hills. Passenger service had ended on the route in 1995, although there was some slight freight traffic for the next five years, but the far-sighted Burgers of Finnetrop was an opportunity and beginning in 2004 the first stretch of right-of-way was converted to bikepath. By May 2007 the route was complete, and a further extension will be completed later this year, linking the Sauerlandradring with the Ruhrtalradweg.

Dr. Chef and I enjoyed this section of the ride immensely as we quickly got up to racing speeds. We had the path to ourselves for the most part and there were still traces of the railway in the form of signals and old wagons to look out. There had been some stormy weather the day before and we had to stop at one point to climb over a fallen tree.

From Bad Fredeburg the roue dropped down to Eslohe (57 kms) and then began to climb again. It was here that we ran into some light rain but it soon let up as we approached the marvellous Kückenheim Tunnel (also called “the Fledermaustunnel’). This is nearly 700 m long and beautifully paved and lit, a pleasure to ride through if not as scary as the Paw Paw Tunnel on the C&O Canal that Dr. Chef and I had ridden through in 2007.

It was with a bit of disappointment that we rolled back in Finnentrop since we wanted the second half of the ride to just keep going on. Dr. Chef was feeling pecking, so we grabbed some baked goods and cold drinks at the Penny Markt before putting everything back into the Golf Guppy and heading for Düsseldorf, not meeting any of the feared traffic jams near Cologne. To celebrate we returned to the Altstadt and Dr. Chef, who had been promised some Lebanese food, proceeded to order everything they had on offer it seemed. Then we dragged our bloated selves over to the famous Pia ice cream parlour where I ordered an Eiskaffee while Dr. Chef had some kind of massive chocolate parfait thing that even he could not get through.

My first experience of the Sauerland did not disappoint. In addition to the Radring, there are many other marked bike routes that the local tourism office has put together, including GPS coordinates. Although the weather was not ideal, this is some of the best of what Germany has to offer the adventurous cyclist and I look forward to returning.

My Latest Book Review on Pezcyclingnews.com

2011-09-15T16:41:00.002+02:00

Well, this might be my latest at Pez but it is actually a revision of a previous review I posted here on the Tin Donkey. You can read the Pez version here.

Meandering through Münsterland: Trip No. 2

2011-09-13T21:27:00.006+02:00

Not satisfied with accumulating seven castles in a single day and not having seen Schloss Nordkirchen, I was determined to get back to Münsterland soon and a week after my first trip at the beginning of August I was able to do so, accompanied by my colleague and friend Henri. I had browbeaten him into buying an excellent Storck bicycle and I needed to make sure that the cycling infection had truly taken hold in him. The local newspaper had run a series on cycling in Nordrhein-Westfalen and an excursion into Münsterland was featured, albeit a bit shorter than what I planned for us.

Taking the newspaper route as a start, I mapped out a ride from Haltern am See, a one-time Roman Army frontier base, eastwards back through Lüdinghausen with its two castles and then on to Nordkirchen before looping back to Haltern. After plotting the ride, I entered it onto my recently-acquired Garmin Edge 605 GPS unit and it seemed to be correct. The route was quite complicated as I had aimed to avoid busy roads as much as possible. Thanks to my clumsy mapping abilities, I noticed that one stretch I had marked overshot the turn we needed to make, so we would have to backtrack on the road, which seemed easier than redrawing the map.

Leaving the Düsseldorf train station just after 8 am, our Regio train brought us swiftly to Haltern in an hour. A number of other cyclists had also embarked and I was surprised that this train taking us into the popular-for-cyclists Münsterland region had only a single bicycle compartment in one of the six or seven doubledecker cars. When I lived in Berlin a decade ago, the trains always had two compartments (in the first and last cars), which are equipped with folding seats which can be used when there are no bikes around. Needless to say, if a lot of cyclists show up, not everyone is going to get a spot and extracting a bike at intermediate stops would also be a challenge.

Arriving at the Haltern station, a brief stop revealed Germany’s most disgusting public washroom and then we were off. The GPS route seemed to work as we quickly left the small city and soon were riding along the shore of a reservoir, the Haltern Stausee. The route soon switched from asphalt to hard-packed dirt. There were a lot of friendly joggers and dog-walkers out on this fine Saturday morning. We rode over a small bridge and passed along another reservoir, then circling south and passing through Kökelsum after failing to find the windmill mentioned in the newspaper article.

Our route took us on very small farm roads and occasional dirt paths. At this point 21 kms into our ride we reached the highest point in the trip, climbing to a dizzying height of 88 m ASL. Down to the crossroads of Tetekum, and soon we were rolling north to Lüdinghausen, where I had been only the week before.

I showed Henri my two previously-visited water castles, Burg Lüdinghausen and Burg Vischering. Unlike my first trip, Vischering today had lots of visitors wandering around. The restaurant and museum were open and well-patronized by the silver-haired generation. Even the bicycle parking area had lots of usage, filled with the very heavy and very equipped (lights, fenders, suspension) trekking bikes so loved by older Germans.

After our walk around Burg Vischering we let Mr. Garmin take us out of Lüdinghausen and we reached our goal for the day, Nordkirchen, much more quickly than I had expected since it was only about 8 kms from our last stop.

Reaching the gates of Schloss Nordkirchen, we were already impressed by the entry and gardens of this so-called “Versailles of Nordrhein-Westfalen.” The castle, constructed in the baroque style between 1703 and 1734 in stages by the Prince-Bishop Friedrich Christian von Plettenburg-Lenhausen and his nephew. In 1833 it came in to the possession of the Counts of Esterahazy, the famous Hungarian family (and one-time employer of composer Franz Joseph Haydn). In 1959 the state of Nordrhein-Westfalen purchased the property and has since purchased the surrounding woodlands. The building has been used since 1951 as a university-level school for finance and banking and parts of it can be visited. The chapel is used for weddings, and one of these was taking place as we cycled by.

Riding past the extensive stables, we were soon on small country roads again. At this point we were thinking lunch might be a good idea but in the next village, Selm, we could not find anything of interest so we kept on riding. Olfen looked more promising and although the bakery on the main square was closing (things shut down by 2 pm in rural Germany on a Saturday), we were attracted by the fine fragrances wafting from a nearby pizzeria and enjoyed a well-earned lunch.

The GPS took us through little roads and we passed numerous older cyclists on their trekking bikes, enjoying the summer weather. The roads were well-paved and we made good time, returning to Haltern am See in time to ride along the marked “Fahrradstrasse” to the centre of town and an ice cream parfait before the train back to Düsseldorf. A fine day with three castles, 78 kms and, ahem, 300 m of climbing.

Meandering through Münsterland: Trip No. 1

2011-09-05T22:31:00.011+02:00

The View from the Basso's Handlebars: Quiet Backroads of Münsterland

It was with some surprise that I realized that I did not have to work on August 1, which is a holiday in Canada (cleverly named Civic Holiday) but not in Germany. Now that I suddenly had a long weekend, I decided to try and do some more bike touring, although the weather was not so promising. Looking through my maps and brochures, I thought a nice easy weekend would be to ride in Münsterland, which is the northwest corner of Nordrhein-Westfalen (NRW) and borders the Netherlands. I have friends in Laer, near the main city of Münster, and they were gracious enough to accept my self-invitation to stay with them for three nights. An emergency lunchtime trip to the Stern-Verlag bookstore and I scored my detailed cycling map of Münsterland.

So it was on Friday evening, July 29, I rode to the main train station after work with my big backpack and got onto the IC (InterCity) train, which has a bike compartment. I always reserve on train trips as this part of Germany is densely-populated and train travel is popular but this evening the train was pretty empty. My Weapon of Choice for this weekend was the Beautiful Blue Basso (BBB), which has 28 mm tires and extra cyclocross brake levers, as I expected to ride some dirt paths and cobbles on the weekend. It also has SPD pedals which allow me to walk around any of the villages or castles I came into.

After getting off the train in Münster, whose train station is in permanent construction mode, my friends collected me and we quickly got to their village. Laer is about 14 kms west of Münster. I unpacked my cycling gear and then we had a pleasant evening, entertained by the antics of Franziska, Carmen and Uwe’s 18 month old daughter.

On Saturday morning I looked at the map and figured out a course that would allow me to see some of the castles on Münsterland’s much-loved “!00 Castles Bikeroute.” Leaving Laer, I immediately headed in the wrong direction but soon found the quiet sideroad I had seen on the map. This straight road took me past small farms to the crossroads of Beerlage. I then turned west, passing the pretty stone church in Aulendorf, before making my way to Billerbeck, a larger town, where it began to rain very lightly.

Not much happening in Billerbeck on a Saturday morning, so I headed eastwards, following a sign indicating a bike route. It took me behind the little train station and then onto a dirt path between farm fields. The path was dry so I made quite rapid progress until coming back to a paved road.

Going south now, I climbed the edge of what is probably the only “mountain” in Münsterland, the Baumberg, passing the transmission tower of the WDR radio network. The Baumberg is the highest point in the region and I had an actual climb up to the Longinus Turm, whose base stands at a towering 187 m ASL. The tower, which was built between 1897 and 1901, is 32 m in height.

The tower is named after zoologist Friedrich Westhoff, who was a founder and first President of the Baumberg-Verein, a hiking/nature club. He was also the author of a two-volume book, “The Beetles of Westphalia.” He was very tall and wrote under the pen name “Doktor Longinus.” He was born in Münster in 1857 and died of blood poisoning there in 1896 at the early age of 41.
The Longinus Tower served as a radar installation during World War II until damaged by an American artillery shell. In 1952 it was the site of the first television transmission in West Germany. The tower not having an electricity supply, the equipment was powered by a car battery.

Various unsightly additions were made to the tower over time and in 2005-2007 it was restored to its original configuration. There is a plaque commemorating Herr Westhoff and another for television pioneer Reinhold Holtstiege. There is also the Café Longinus at the base of the tower, which proclaims itself to be the highest café in Münsterland.

There was a bit more climbing and then a rapid left turn whooshed me down into Havixbeck, where, peering through the gate and over the fence, I found my first castle, Haus Havixbeck. The building dates from 1562 and survives today much as it was when built. It is typical of the “water castles” which are basically moated manor houses to be found in Münsterland. The moat was filled in in 1850. The Twickel family has owned the house since 1601 and they were not around to let me in. The house is on a very sizeable piece of land on the edge of Havixbeck and like much of the region seems to be given over to raising horses.

It was time for a break so I rode into Havixbeck proper. It has a little pedestrian mall where people were going about their Saturday shopping and I found a nice bakery where I enjoyed a coffee and some pastry. There is not much else to see in Havixbeck (although it turns out that I missed seeing Haus Stapel, another water castle) but it was quite pleasant to enjoy the small-town atmosphere.

Signore Basso and I headed north out of town and along some excellent sideroads and paved bikepaths. The route took us past a charming traditional brewery with an outdoor garden and then I turned east towards Altenberge. The road brought me past the “Schlepper und Geräte Museum,” which was celebrating itself with an apparent festival of old tractors. I stopped to watch for a few minutes and saw some wonderful old machines, including tractors from Lantz, a marque known to me from the Milton Steam Age in Ontario, to Wesselers, which were built in nearby Altenberge.

Klute's traditional brewery

Altenberge itself was pretty disappointing. Towns in Münsterland are inconsistent, with some being completely charming and others, like Altenberge, being the sort of place where there is no reason whatever to linger. I soon found myself back in Laer and at the end of the day’s 57 km ride. It had not involved very much exertion as I climbed a total of 319 m for the day. I had been a bit disappointed in only finding one castle to gawk at but with two more days of riding I knew I would make up that deficit.

Uwe and Carmen (and Franziska) wanted to show me some more of the area, so we drove the short distance to one of Münster’s most charming towns, Steinfurt. This is an impressive place and the Schloss, whose moat was fully intact, was quite wonderful. There was a big park behind the Schloss which took our attention for a while but the town itself is marvellous. The Rathaus looks like one of the structures in the Münster Altstadt, dating to 1561. There are many interesting buildings from the 17th Century and a very good ice cream parlour where Uwe “forced” me to try some bitter chocolate ice cream, which is almost black in colour. Excellent!

The weather looked a bit better on Sunday morning, but was still cool and grey. Carmen, who rode a racing bicycle and did the Jeantex Transalp event a few years ago but sold her bike before she had Franziska, mentioned to me that a neighbour, Andreas, was part of a group of local riders who did a circuit every Saturday and Sunday and that I would be welcome to join them. I took the opportunity and was warmly welcomed. Andreas was joined by a few others and then we rode over to the next village, Holthausen, where we met the majority of the pack.

There were about a dozen of us MAMILs (Middle-Aged Men in Lycra), with a few younger riders mixed in. Everyone was riding fancy carbon bikes except for me but I thought BBB, although 24 years old and of comparatively heavy steel, would be able to keep up well enough on the flattish roads of the region. Of course, I had been warned that our pace would be 25-30 km/h over the 60 or so kms of riding but leaving Holtzhausen the group turned up the speed pretty quickly. The Germans are not very good at riding pacelines (except when I was in Mallorca and Sicily) as they do not like to come off the front. This was fine with me and for a good part of the morning I felt like one of the protected riders of the Tour de France.

Of course, the route had to include some climbing and we powered our way up the Baumberg, a hill that I was to cross several times during my Münsterland visit. There were some other shorter, but steeper, hills as well and I felt a bit out of breath on one of them. The gearing of BBB is not ideal for climbing but it was a good workout for me.

The route chosen by the leaders was quite nice and we even passed a big convent. We rode through Havixbeck and then a bit further south than I had gone on my first ride before turning west and passing Nottuln before getting to Billerbeck and then coming through Aulendorf before returning to Holtzhausen and Laer. It had been exhilerating at an average speed of just under 30 km/h for 60 kms but not much for sightseeing as we did not stop on the road, so no photography and no coffee. And no castles, alas.

To remedy this, I refilled my water bottle, had a sandwich and then left Laer again, heading out of town on Darfelder Strasse south towards, surprise, Darfeld. I passed on out-of-commission ancient windmill and continued down the fairly busy road until I saw another mysterious bike route sign. I followed this, which took me by sideroads and a few dirt paths into Oberdarfeld and then Darfeld proper. The town is quite small but it still took a few wrong turns until I found a sign for Schloss Darfeld.

This water castle, which does not appear with a photograph in my little guidebook to castles in Münsterland where it does not fall into the category “absolutely must-see” or even “must-see,” is quite spectacular. It was built from 1612-1616 and currently has two wings. It originally was supposed to be a baroque structure with eight wings (!) but the owner and the architect had a falling-out. This was probably about money as the castle then went through a number of owners before winding up in the hands of the powerful Droste zu Vischering family (of whom I will write more) in 1680.

The castle was badly damaged by fire in 1899 and rebuilt partly in the original style but partly in a neo-Renaissance style, giving it a rather Italian look. It is privately owned by a Dr. Hamann and can only be looked at from the outside, which I did of course.

After admiring the ducks and taking photos of the old mill near the castle, it was back on the bike and heading east, turning south towards Havixbeck again. Another castle near Havixbeck had been recommended to me and I took the fastest route out to it. It was not actually in Havixbeck but considerably to the east, and I had to ride along the wide paved bike path along the main road for what seemed like a good 10 kms before I saw the entrance to Burg Hülshoff.

This wonderful house, sitting surrounded by a huge moat, is in beautiful condition. The location became the seat of another noble family, Droste zu Hülsoff (not to be confused with the unrelated Droste zu Vichering gang!), in 1417, although the first part of this house stems from 1540 to 1545. Over the centuries it has been remodeled numerous times, most recently in the mid-19th Century. It is particularly celebrated as the birthplace of Annette von Droste-Hülsoff (1797-1848), deemed to be one of Germany’s most significant poets and of whose works I know almost nothing. I suspect she is not much read anymore.

Unlike Schloss Darfeld, where I had been pretty much alone with the ducks, Burg Hülsoff was a happening place, with busloads of old folks being carted in. The grounds are quite lovely and there were many flowers to look at. The castle contains a restaurant and a museum devoted to Frau von Droste-Hülsoff and her work. I only lingered to take some photographs and then cycled the now-familiar route back to Laer via Havixbeck. Another 61 kms completed, giving me a nice total of over 120 kms for the day. To celebrate, I stopped at the local ice cream place for a great big blueberry ice cream parfait.

That evening I treated my friends to dinner. Uwe picked a favourite place, Hotel Steverburg near Nottuln, on top of the inescapable Baumberge. It is a beautiful building constructed in the 1920s from local sandstone and had been originally built as a youth hostel; these conversions usually go the other way around. After an excellent meal, I slept soundly that evening, dreaming of yet more castles tomorrow.

Monday, August 1: a new month and new roads to conquer. I very much wanted to see “the Versailles of Westphalia” in Nordkirchen but it looked pretty far considering that I wanted to be back in time for a late afternoon train to Düsseldorf. But my track south would take me by at least two good castles, as well as a smaller one that Uwe had showed me before we went to the restaurant the evening before.

Riding south again to the Beerlage crossroads, I turned east along the heavily-travelled road (although it was not really too bad at this time) and rode for a short distance until I came to the “Haus Runde” sign. I turned Havixbeck and over the inescapable Baumberge, I turned right and followed the small country road a short distance, past the little Haus Runde fruit packing place to Haus Runde itself. This is a very traditional Münsterland water castle that is definitely not on the tourist track as it is a bit overgrown. The moat around it is in good condition and the 17th Century gatehouse, like a downmarket version of the ones I saw at the castles in Steinfurt and Darfeld, is still standing. It is private property and I did not want to trespass but the manor house (from what I could see through the trees) seems to be in good shape and serving as the administrative centre for the surrounding farm. Haus Runde may be rented for films and the Internet has allowed me to look at the property a bit better than my personal visit. It has a pleasant garden and a 19th Century brewery building, which seems to have been converted to a home. The property was first recorded in the 15th Century and by the 17th Century had come into the possession of the Runde family. The present ensemble of buildings dates from various periods and uses different materials. It came into the hands of the current owners in the 18th Century following litigation according to one source, marriage by another. But today the whole place is quite charming and very, very quiet. Castle No. 1 for the trip!

Retracing my track to the main road, I crossed it and tried to locate the next manor house, Haus Langenhorst, which seemed quite close by on the map. I rode down a side road followed by a nicely-paved farm road that brought me to a complex of farm buildings. I looked around and did not see anything at first but then I saw, far off in the back in the corner, a small building made with the distinctive Baumberge sandstone in the lower half and topped with red brick gables. It was hard to see very clearly and have not been able to get any information about the date it was built but since I made all the effort to look at it I will count this as Castle No. 2.

I next rode back along the main road towards Havixbeck, turning east on a road my friend Uwe had suggested. It led past a veterinarian’s place devoted to horses and soon turned into a gravel road. But this only went for a short distance before becoming asphalt again. It really was an excellent road for cycling (it is marked as a recommended route on my ADFC map). A tunnel took me under the railway line and there was a little bit of very pleasant climbing before I arrived at the Bombeck crossroads and headed south towards Böckinghausen with the idea of passing around the inevitable Baumberg. This did not work, of course, although I only reached an altitude of 165 m instead of 187 m ASL, but I did have a nice fast descent into my next town, Nottuln.

I had been told that there was a baroque ensemble of buildings in Nottuln. I rode over to the imposing church, St. Martin’s, which had built after a big fire in 1749 and looked around. There was a small row of buildings next to it that might have been fairly old but nothing much was marked. Nottuln, which is a township and not just this town, was quite busy and I was happy enough to leave its very bumpy cobbles and traffic behind. My route took me through a section of town that was all single-family homes and then suddenly I was on a dirt path in the forest. This did not go on for very long and I popped out on a road that took me towards Appelhülsen. I came to a crossroads and took the road that was more direct but turned around when it was obvious I was coming to a Bundestrasse, a major thoroughfare with a boring bike lane alongside.

Back on the quieter road, which was marked with a bike route sign, I passed over the A43 Autobahn and then came to some railway tracks. I turned left towards Appelhülsen, passing the non-railway station (ranked by the local radio station as the 5th busiest of 14 in the Coesfeld county area!) and thought I would find a coffee in town somewhere. After a few minutes of riding it became apparent that Appelhülsen was one of those Münsterland towns with nothing of interest at all so I turned around and headed south on the main road in order to reach my next castle.

Castle No. 3, Kleine Schonebeck, is directly on the main road and is clearly a lived-in kind of place. The major part of this brick manor house was constructed around 1520, and an eight-sided tower for stairs dates to 1587. It has stepped gables. The place originally had the typical layout of a Münsterland water castle with a gatehouse on a little island connected by bridge to a second island where the main house was located but parts of the moat have been filled in and the outer buildings are gone. It may have been spun off of the larger property of Gross Schonebeck but its earlier history is not completely clear.

With this successful viewing, I headed for Gross Schonebeck but could not actually find it although I think I did locate the street it was on after I made several exploratory detours. It is supposedly viewable from the road or the bike path that runs along the Stever River but this was not the case. It was at one time church property and the oldest section of the existing buildings dates to 1400 so it was a disappointment not to see anything, even from a distance.

I rode now along a bike path following the Stever River. This was dirt but quite rideable on the Basso and I made good time as I enjoyed travelling alongside the meandering little river. It eventually brought me to the edge of the Dortmund-Ems-Kanal in Senden and I followed another bike path that brought me to an impressive castle, Schloss Senden.

Parts of the castle probably date to the mid-15th Century and it has had a remarkably varied history, having been attacked by the Spaniards in the 16th Century and the French in the 18th, half-burned down in a fire in 1900, heavily damaged in World War II and used to house 2,000 Russians, Poles, Czechs and Italians for 8 months in 1945. Renovations in the 1950s took place as it became a private school, a hotel with a casino, a residence for refugees from the Sudetenland in Czechoslovakia and a student home at various times. It has been empty for several years and parts of it are now falling apart. There is a recently-launched committee looking at how to save this historic and interesting building but it will be a major task to do so.

Leaving Senden, I made my way through a big construction area as work takes place on the canal and crossed it on a small bridge, heading south. Castle No. 5, Haus Kakesbeck, suddenly appeared on my right. I backtracked along the road to get a better view. It too is in private hands but the view from the road is very good if you are not adverse to making your way through some underbrush.

Haus Kakesbeck (whose aristocratic owners had once owned Schloss Senden as well) has been the site of very extensive archaeological excavations. It is situated on a former Roman road and a pair of Stone Age graves, dating back 5,000 years, were found there. There was a small Roman settlement here and Roman artifacts dating to 50 B.C. have been dug up. It continued to grow and by 1300 Kakesbeck was already an important fortification. The main house has components going back to 1290 and the other buildings, located on several islands are very old. The complex under went a transformation to the baroque style in the 1700s. A three-arched bridge with a double gate was built, although a wing of this was destroyed by American tank fire in 1945. Haus Kakesbeck is an equestrian centre today although a a restoration project is apparently still underway after 40 years.

The bike route took me through very quiet country backroads as I approached my primary goal for the day, the town of Lüdinghausen. Nordkirchen was still 14 kms away, which would have added an additional 28 kms to my trip there and back and I thought I had ridden fairly far already. It was very easy to find Castle No. 6, Burg Vischering.

Burg Vischering is one of the best castle in Münsterland and dates primarly from the 16th Century. The family that owned it relocated in 1681 to Schloss Darfeld and subsequent building activity was primarily repair only. This castle was not damaged in World War II. The gatehouse was built in 1519 and the impressive octagonal stair tower is from 1622. The castle is surrounded by a moat and is in excellent repair. On this Monday I was one of the few visitors there and the restaurant that occupies part of the main building was closed. There is a museum devoted to the castle as well but it was very enjoyable just to walk around it and gawk a bit.

The castle was taken over by the County of Coesfeld in 1971 and there has been renovation work since then and the opening of the museum. It is certainly well worth the visit.

Castle No. 7 was not nearly so interesting. Located in the middle of Lüdinghausen, Schloss Lüdinghausen has a nice gatehouse and is surrounded by a moat. However, it is currently undergoing renovations to be turned into a Nordrhein-Westfalen archive building so there is nothing much to see at the moment. It is a very attractive building nonetheless. The oldest parts were constructed in 1568 in the Renaissance style and additions were made until 1907. A major renovation was undertaken in 2000 and the building has served a variety of purposes, including use as a school, cultural centre and municipal offices.

Lüdinghausen is an attractive town and after enjoying lunch I began the ride back to Laer. It had taken me over four hours to get to Lüdinghausen but by choosing a more direct route (which was still quite traffic-light), I was back with my friends two and a half hours later. It had been a very successful day with no fewer than seven castles visited, lots of photos taken and 105 kms ridden.

After I had a relaxing Radler at Klute's, the traditional brewpub I had passed several times in my travels, I left the Basso with my friends in Laer for the next Münsterland excursion as there are still a lot of those 100 castles for me to look at. I took the very crowded InterCity train back to Düsseldorf and was back home in just over an hour.

A reward for a great long weekend of cycling!

Klassikerausfahrt Finale: No Spirits Were Dampened in the Making of this Ride

2011-09-05T16:40:00.013+02:00

One of the great cycling pleasures of living in Düsseldorf is the opportunity to participate in the monthly Klassikerausfahrtgruppe (catchy name!) ride, which takes place on the first Sunday of the month. It unites an interesting gang of riders who are joined by their interest in lightweight steel racing bicycles, although more modern bikes are present from time to time. Some great rides have taken place, including one in Holland, but most are local 2-3 hours rides around Düsseldorf. Although it is conceivable that no group on racing bikes has ever been so slow or so disorganized, we always manage to find our way back to the start at Ricci-Sport, perhaps lured on by the post-ride cake and coffee (which mirrors the pre-ride cake and coffee). There are generally no crashes, just a few flats, and always great camaraderie.

Yesterday's ride was the final official one for the season and I had special permission from houseguests to go out. Timing has been an issue for me so this was only my third group ride (the others have been written up here and here). However, many familiar faces were there with not only some old bikes but even some different old bikes. As this was the last ride and we were going to be photographed, we had been instructed to bring out the best in order to impress the locals as we rode through town. It was finally time for me to take down the SBDU Raleigh off the wall stand, pump up the tires and ride it for the first time in Germany, and only the fifth time since its restoration in early 2010. Since it was very humid, I decided to leave my wool Raleigh jersey at home and went with the old-style maple leaf one.

By the time I arrived at Ricci-Sport at 10:30 a great big group had already assembled and was working on the cake and/or admiring and comparing bicycles. It was clearly Rickert day as the made-in-Dortmund marque was represented by no fewer than four bikes, with two matching yellow ones from the early 1960s, a beautiful fully-chromed bike and an excellent blue one, the latter brought by Hartmut Snoek, who had come all the way from Münster. I met Hartmut last Sunday at an RTF ride in Essen, when he admired my Marinoni and I admired his Rickert. He is a serious collector of the brand, with around a dozen, including frames.

There were a lot of interesting bicycles. A Dutch cyclist had come with his Benotto and matching wool jersey (and white tires!). Conrad had a very fine Dutch RIH and a lady was riding a child-sized Colnago. Klaus had one of the yellow Rickerts instead of his usual Bottechia and there were Gazelles, and Koga Miyatas and a lovely blue/white Eddy Merckx, along with some makes unfamiliar to me.

As we prepared to ride out we were joined (with exceptionally loud brake squealing) by Richard of Ricci-Sports, who is a usual participant on these rides but broke his leg badly in July during a race in the Netherlands. He is down to one crutch instead of two now and managed to ride to the shop from home yesterday, which must have been a challenge. He brought out the second yellow Rickert and rode a block with us before turning back.

The weather has been unsettled and while it had been beautiful and hot on Saturday, the forecast was not so great. But we all started in great spirits, and in the usual semi-random disorder. We rode through the area near my apartment and then through the Grafenberger Wald. It was here at 6.5 kms I discovered that bikes that have not been ridden for a year should be checked out more carefully as my Campagnolo shifter went into "auto" mode: that is, once I shifted down at the base of a hill, the bike decided on its own to shift all the way back up five gears to the hardest gear. I had to get off, shift onto a smaller cog and firmly tighten the shift lever, something I had learned to do on my first test ride last year. I was the last one up the hill but had no further shifting issues for the rest of the day.

There were a few other hills to climb but the roads, many of which I have ridden before, were excellent and quiet on Sunday morning. We stop at the top of hills to regroup and things were going nicely when we looked to the north and saw some very very dark clouds, and heard some thunder. Someone cheerfully pointed out that the wind was blowing the clouds away from us. This may have been true at that point but once we were into Essen-Kettwig and about to begin the nice climb called "the Esel" (the Donkey), the skies opened up and the rain poured down.

At this point we were about to turn left past a Greek restaurant on Essener Strasse. It had an outdoor terrace with umbrellas and we zoomed into it and stood there while the rain came down in buckets. It was good timing as well for Karsten, who had the Usual Flat Tire of the trip. Most of us had left our bikes on a stand out front but two or three were standing with their bikes under the umbrellas, much to the dissatisfaction of the owner. I would have thought that with 20 or so cyclists totally captive by the rain, it would have been a good occasion to rev up the coffee machine or bring out the apfelschorle and make some profit but he was clearly anxious to get rid of us. We obliged as soon as the rain let up and began the climb up the hill.

I first rode the Esel last Sunday during the Essen RTF ride and really liked it. It is not extremely steep and has three nice switchbacks. The shifting on the Raleigh was working perfectly now and I could accelerate quite nicely up to the top. I was with a small group and then came the sucker punch as the rain suddenly began again in earnest. We pulled over to stand under the trees but it was pretty pointless as after a few moments we were soaking wet.

Once the rain let up again we were back on the road, looking like soaked rats. Klaus complained that his wool jersey soaked up water like a sponge and some of the other riders noted that their old-fashioned shoes did not have drain holes. Someone suggested that as a result of this ride my Raleigh would be worth half as much as it had been at the start but our spirits rose as the sun came out and we began to dry off in the warm wind. It was also obvious that on the short hills some of the oldie bicycles were not equipped with modern gearing for climbing as some of the oldie riders had to work heroically to get up them. At least I was able to use my toe clips and straps fairly effectively by the end of the ride. They are essential for the retro-look but clipless pedals are far, far better!

We passed through the woods around Oberdorf and soon rejoined our outward-bound route, taking us through Ratingen and back to Düsseldorf, Grünerstrasse and Ricci-Sports. There was lots of coffee and really, really excellent cake to balance any of the calorie-burning effects of our 44.34 km ride, with just under 400 m of climbing. Our 2:02 time of actual riding was pretty much matched by the amount of time it took me to clean all the grit off of the Raleigh today. And before people left, there was an opportunity to have your photo taken with your bike, using a large blue dumpster as a backdrop, which might perhaps be seen by many in the modern cycling community as appropriate given what we ride.

A group of the riders will go back to Holland on October 18 to ride with some of the Dutch steel lightweight enthusiasts but unfortunately I will be unable to join them. Many of the Düsseldorf group will be in Tuscany for l'Eroica so I look forward to exchanging coffee for Chianti with them then!

Rad am Ring

2011-08-23T13:37:00.001+02:00

Every year there is a 24 bike ride around the famous Nurburgring in the Eifel Mountains. Here is a video from last week's event.

The Belgian Hammer: A Book Review

2011-08-11T13:39:00.002+02:00

My latest book review, of Dan Lee's "The Belgian Hammer," has now been posted at Pezcyclingnews.com and you can read it here.

1962 Tour de France

2011-08-11T11:28:00.004+02:00

Famed French film director Louis Malle shot the 1962 Tour de France and I have a videotape of the 20 minute (alas, only) result, "Vive le Tour!". Our good friends at Pezcyclingnews.com have found the complete film on-line and I would recommend it highly. I love the scene where the riders dash through a bar and run outside with bottles of beer! And please note that all the riders are wearing spotless white socks, as it should be in racing.

Vive le tour! from Bear Thunder on Vimeo.

Jens Voigt Bike Handling

2011-07-18T21:45:00.001+02:00

I am a great admirer of Jens Voigt, the Leopard-Trek pro and cycling hard man, but at times his bike handling is a bit strange. On Saturday he fell down twice during the Tour de France. The first time he overshot a corner and went over the edge, which I can understand misjudging, but the second crash, at 1:12 on this video, is baffling:

That's enough crashes for this Tour, Jens!

The Tour de Ruhr

2011-07-16T21:20:00.003+02:00

Following a very successful Lost Boys Tour of Europe (full report with lots of great photos to follow shortly), I was thinking that perhaps my legs did not really need much more climbing practice. But since the Austrian Alps are now just a memory and I am now energized to ride more seriously since my efforts to lose weight this year have been pathetic and I could feel every extra of the many extra kilos, I have resolved to do as many rides on the weekend as I can, weather permitting.

And the weather today was permitting. I checked various forecasts yesterday and they all seemed to suggest it would be a good day, albeit with some wind. Rain is forecast for Sunday so I gave up my The Only Day You Can Shop on the Weekend in Germany and instead headed off to Gevelsberg on the S-Bahn to participate in the 3rd Tour de Ruhr.

The good thing is that the S-Bahn runs every 30 minutes and I do not have to transfer on the ride from Düsseldorf. As well, my monthly local commuting pass on city public transit is good for taking me and my bike pretty far out on weekends in Nordrhein-Westfalen. The bad news was that I could not find anyone to do the route with me. On longer rides it is always much more interesting to be with someone else, not only in case there is a problem but for the company (and the slipstreaming into the omni-present headwind). But I figured that I would find a group riding at my pace during the event and not have to do a solo time trial all day. On the other hand, a solo time trial is probably a good way to work off the weight!

The weather did not look very good and I left home half an hour later than I had first planned since it was very cool and overcast. As I rode by my greengrocer, the cashier waved and said to watch out for rain. But I pressed onward and arrived at the S-Bahn station at Gevelsberg-Knapp at 8:30 after a one hour train trip and rode the 4 kms to the very impressive sports facility at Schilsede, with a big soccer field and changing rooms and a restaurant and everything. Registering was quick and easy and I headed out onto the well-marked route. Not well enough marked, I guess, as I immediately made a wrong turn but someone pointed me in the right direction.

It was the right direction but began with a sharp climb up the cobbled streets of the town. Ouch! But after that first painful beginning, the road went steadily downhill. There was not much traffic at 9:30 on a Saturday morning (Germans are late sleepers on the weekend) and I made steady enough progress as I came to a nice vista of the Ruhr at Alt-Wetter, a little city whose name translates, strangely, to “Old Weather.” The Ruhr region was once Germany’s industrial heartland and in Wetter the first industrial workshop, which produced steam engines and gas light equipment, was established in 1819. During my day of riding, I was to pass many sights related to Germany’s Industrial Revolution, and there is a marked Route of Industrial Culture which actually looks very interesting.

I rolled eastwards, passing north of Hagen and hitting some climbs at the 22 and 25 km marks of the ride. The region, which is Westfalen, is hilly and although the climbs are generally not terribly long they can be steep. I find the constant up-and-down more wearing than doing a single big pass or two each day, as I did in the French and Swiss Alps in the past.

The first rather modest food stop was at 28 kms and after eating some banana and checking what else was on offer (energy bars mainly), I pressed on. I did not see very many riders, which I attributed to a start time that went from 9:00 to 11:00, so the participants would have been spread out. In addition, there were routes of 151, 111, 71, 41 and 25 kms, so after some of the splits I would have seen even fewer people, although there were probably two hundred participants, judging from the cars at the sports centre.

The Germans are pretty serious about these RTF (Radtourenfahrt) organized rides and unlike a century ride in the States or Canada nobody said anything when they passed me or indicated that we might work together. At two points I discovered I was leading out some other riders when I set a nice pace on the hills but when we reached the summit they just overtook and passed me without saying anything. I did talk for a moment with a lady on a tri-bike but when we reached the summit she waited there for her friends who were further back. The first part of the ride was going well but 111 kms is a fair distance and I was very worried about the headwind on the way back. The forecast was for 30 km/h winds, gusting to 50! At least it was sunny...

At Witten we rejoined the Ruhr after our climbing session. I had passed an amazing iron railway bridge but did not stop to photograph but while crossing over the bridge into Witten I saw a good view and went to the other side for a picture. This was awkward as there was a high wall between the road and the sidewalk as there was a bus lane and I could not get over it. After taking the photo, I discovered the traffic was so heavy I could not get back onto the right side of the road and had to wait quite a while. The Germans were all up now, obviously.

Shortly after this, the route took me past an interesting industrial location, the Zeche Nachtigall, a coal mine that was in service from 1895 to the 1960s. This is now operated by the LWL, the Westfalen regional government, as a museum and event location. The parking lot was packed, so there must have been something unusual happening.

We travelled now on a fairly busy main road, No. 43, but the shoulders were wide and pretty clean. Although I was using the map on my GPS (still not completely figured out yet) and watching very carefully for the RTF signs the Schilsede club had put up, I missed a turn, only discovering this after a nice downhill run. Several other cyclists also ended up with me but as they rode west towards Hattingen, which was not really on the route at all, I turned around and backtracked until I found the turn. The GPS map is not really detailed enough but I only added a few kilometers to my ride anyway.

I was concerned that the route on my GPS was now looking quite different from where we were going so I just followed the RTF signs. At one point after the second food stop I took a break for a photo and a gentleman walking along the road came over for a chat. He was about 50 and told me that he had once been a very serious cyclist, putting in up to 25,000 kms a year! He had given up racing and super long rides, although it sounded to me as if he was still pretty ambitious on the bike as he said that he and his wife do big tours riding directly from their house in Soest (a village I need to see as it is supposed to be one of the prettiest in Germany) and were planning to ride to Switzerland soon. He asked if I was Danish and was surprised that I was a Canadian and an English-speaker to boot. My accent in German confuses people but he paid me a monster compliment by saying that my German was very good and that he was a German teacher!

There is an issue with downloading routes on the Garmin and I think it simply cut off part of the route in order to go directly back to Schilsede. At the third food stop, at the 90 km mark, I asked if I was in fact going the right way. At this point all the routes (except the very short one) were already back together so it was only 19 kms to the finish.

This was easier said than done. The wind was blowing at the forecast 30 km/h and there was still a bit of climbing. At one point I began to feel my right inner quad cramp and I immediately poured down everything still in my bottles. I had been drinking quite steadily for a change but with the sun I was probably dehydrating. The drinks helped and I made the last part of the ride with no further incidents.

There were still a lot of cars at the sports club. I turned in my number and got my 2 Euro deposit back, which I then gambled away on two tickets for the club lottery, winning nothing. I did get a little flashing light from the ladies on the registration desk, which will nicely replace the one I had on my fitness club backpack and which I broke.

I rode back to the train station (all downhill) and included this distance in my ride as the club’s advertised 111 kms was a bit on the short side. I rode around 115 km in all at the unimpressive average speed of 21.5 km/h, although I did hit nearly 67 km/h on one of the downhill sections. I would have had more fast descents but I was surprised by how bad the roads were in many sections of the route. The route is a good one, although it does have some stretches not only of bad road but also boring bits through suburbs. But there is an impressive amount of green space in the Ruhrtal and I enjoyed some forest rides as well as seeing the river. There is a Ruhr bike path and we rode a short stretch of it today; I have ridden another section further to the west near Essen. It would be pretty flat but probably busy on weekends as the area is heavily populated.

Getting out at the Flingern S-Bahn station, I was home by 4:30 pm and was able to watch one of the exciting mountain stages of the Tour de France while enjoying a big cold beer (alcohol-free Paulaner for the time being). The Ruhr region not only offers very good cycling but looks like an extremely interesting place from an historical perspective as well. Many of the RTF routes can be found on-line, so I am not sure I need to pay 7 Euros (well, including two lottery tickets!) for some bananas and the opportunity to ride all by myself. Once I shed the weight, I will try for the 200 km+ Radmarathonen so at least I will get a medal!

Maglia Rosa: My Latest Book Review

2011-06-27T23:10:00.003+02:00

I am presently in Austria for two weeks of cycling and hope to ride the legendary Grossglockner High Alpine Road while I am here. On May 20 the racers of the Giro d'Italia cycled this, so it is only fitting that my most recent book review at Pezcyclingnews.com is about a wonderful history of the race, "Maglia Rosa: Triumph and Tragedy at the Giro d’Italia," by Herbie Skyes. You can read the review here.

Rapha Rides the Victorian Alps

2011-06-17T21:43:00.003+02:00

The people at Rapha do some interesting things to promote their clothing, and often feature rides on their website that you might like to do. Here is a little video which includes an interview with an Australian cycling historian, along with a ride in the Victorian Alps, which don't look very Alps-like to me but in a 250 km ride the cyclists climbed 5,000 m, so it is pretty serious since it is double what I did over a slightly shorter distance on Sunday.

Rapha's webpage, along with this video, also has a feature on a 1,000 mile bike race in Australia in 1934 that sounded pretty cruel.

Rapha Rides the Victorian Alps from RAPHA on Vimeo.

The Infamous “Pommes” Ride: Bonn-Eupen-Bonn

2011-06-13T20:19:00.005+02:00

It seemed like a good idea when my friend Nick suggested that we sign up for the “By Bike Tour” early this year. It was a route that would take us from Bonn through the Eifel Mountains to the German-speaking enclave of Belgium, with the town of Eupen being the turnaround point. At this point we had planned to be in better condition but the usual excuses applied and I do not really have the required miles in my legs and too many kilos around my middle, so I was a bit apprehensive. On the other hand, having done the 200 km Mountains of Misery in Virginia, I thought that I would be fine going an extra 25 kms, and probably with less climbing. In a moment of weakness, my American friends Tom and Tim also signed on so at least this misery would be shared.

The ride began in 2005 when three amateur cyclists, riding near Bonn, were chatting about the best french fries in the area. One of them remarked that Belgian was famous for its frites so they should go there if they wanted some. Incidentally, the German term for french fries is “pommes frites,” the same as in French, but it is often shortened to “pommes,” as I heard in Berlin, or “fritten” in the Rheinland, reflecting the proximity to the Netherlands/Belgium. The challenge was accepted and they rode off to Eupen, 112 km away over the mountains. The story goes that on the return ride the french fries were heavy on their stomaches, but a tradition was set and the ride has grown each year, with 400 starters last year. This year the ride was limited to 600. The only ride offered is the full distance, and there are only three food stops on the way. This promised to be epic.

I was up at 4:45 yesterday morning and Tom picked me up in the Official Team Car at 5:30. His GPS wasn’t working but he was able to find my place anyway but once the GPS came back to life we discovered we had missed the turnoff for Tim’s house. No matter as we were early enough.

Getting to Bad Godesberg, a suburb of Bonn, we easily found the sports field and picked up our starting kits. Besides our numbers and a ride route map, we got two water bottles (adding yet more to my already-massive collection), various energy drink powders and gel tablets and not much else. Although I knew it beforehand, it was a bit disappointing to think that we would go to all this effort and not get a medal or certificate but the ride’s the thing.

Unfortunately Nick could not join us at the last minute for family reasons, so at 8:00 we all lined up at the start, a shot was fired and off we went as a big group. There were police cars and motorcycles to block traffic to get us out of town, which was very nice. The pace was reasonable, although a little on the brisk side considering what was coming, and we stayed comfortably near the back as we made our way through the green countryside. The weather was good, with no sign of rain, and cool enough for arm-warmers. I was a bit worried about the wind, which we had really suffered under during the Euskirchen RTF two weeks ago.

En route through little villages in the Eifel (photo by Tom)

Eventually the escort vehicles left and as we came to stoplights we soon found ourselves in a little group. The group did not work very well as Germans are not very good at pacelines, in my experience. I was at the front for a while and when I moved left to let the next rider pull through, nothing happened. It was apparent that they were content to sit on for the rest of the day. Of course, this meant that we would be going slower and using up more energy.

Me, still looking pretty happy at this point (photo by Tom)

At around Km 70 we came to the rather modest food stop, which offered water, energy drink, bananas and some cookies. It turned out that we were among the last to come through, even though we had been averaging over 30 km/h, headwinds and all, to get here. The group ahead of us seems to have stayed intact and the food stop people said when they came all hell broke loose since there were around 200 cyclists. After we left the food stop, we were down to just the three of us and for the rest of the day did not see more than 4-5 other cyclists on our ride.

The climbing came pretty regular now but the scenery was really beautiful as we passed through the small towns and we did have more than a few excellent descents, including one that took us across the very-confusingly named Rur River (no, not the Ruhr and not the Ruwer). We crossed the former border into Belgium near Roetgen and were astonished at the terrible quality of the Belgian roads but at least there was not much traffic. After the town of Raeten we came to the larger town of Eupen, where the route brought us over a nasty 15% grade right in the centre of the place. A number of Belgian riders had started in Eupen, doing Eupen-Bonn-Eupen, and we rolled under their starting arch to a rather sad and picked-over food stop. I loaded up on my own gel and energy bars while Tom and Tim ate the offered sandwiches, which appeared to feature cold schnitzel from a big plastic bag marked “Schwein.”

Only 116 kms left to go! We knew that the road back along a different route would begin with a serious climb but the road out of Eupen was truly terrible. It was a tank road, made from concrete slabs, so there was the constant thump-thump-thump as you hit the expansion joints. In addition, it was in dreadful condition, with massive holes everywhere, plus heavy traffic to boot. It climbed and climbed with no turns at all. We were not reassured by the sign indicating that the road would be in poor condition for the next 11 kms!

This nightmare eventually ended as we approached Germany again, crossing the location of the former defensive Siegfried Line, and getting onto some blessedly smooth asphalt. We were riding through a huge park, the Parc Natural des Hautes Fagnes and soon another one, the Nationalpark Eifel. There was a great deal more of climbing and descending, and around Km 130, after a glorious descent, we turned a corner under a bridge to be confronted by a horrific 20% grade. I had to get off the bike to shift to the proper gear and as I made my way slowly up (and I do mean slowly), a van, its gears grinding away, pulled up alongside. It was the Broom Wagon and they wanted to know if I wanted to quit and get in. I shook my head and concentrated on getting to the top of the ridiculous hill and the van had pulled over and the rear doors were open. I was surprised by how many people had quit already but I told the driver I was continuing. Even though I had had cramps twice on the climbs already and was feeling tired, and another 90 kms was a long way to go, there was no way I was getting a ride back on the van, particularly since I was doing this ride partially to celebrate my birthday. I was already breaking the ride down into 40 km stages in my mind and I told Tom and Tim that as long as we had daylight I would get to the finish.

In Schleiden I momentarily lost the others, who had gone off to a gas station for some addition refreshment, but this was just as well as I had the chance to focus on the big hill out of town. I cramped badly about one-quarter of the way up, but stopped and drank and massaged the muscle in my leg and then I could continue. The others soon caught up and eventually we came to the final food stop on the way, at Km 170.

There was a big group of people manning the stand and they applauded when we rode in. We refilled bottles and ate more bananas and worked out the kinks a bit. They told us that the finishing line would be taken down at 6 pm, which surprised us as the website, Tom thought, said it would be open until 8 pm. It was 5 pm now, so there was no way that we would do 50 kms of climbing and descending in that time, but all we wanted to do was finish.

There were some nasty hills and some roads with very heavy traffic to negotiate as we approached Bonn. I fell back a bit and tried to keep a steady pace going but then my GPS battery, which is good for 10 hours, gave out and I missed a sign on the otherwise very well-marked route. The result was that I got slightly lost but just headed for Bad Godesberg, which is not all that large. I had some problem finding the sports field but managed to get the GPS awake for a moment to get the general direction. Shortly after 7 pm I rolled under the start/finish arch, which was mainly gone, and easily found Tom and Tim since there were hardly any cars left in the lot.

Tom crosses the finish line (photo by Tim)

By the time we packed up, and then stopped at Tim’s for a celebratory beer, and Tom dropped me off, it was 10 pm. After a hot and welcome shower, I had a cup of soup and a sandwich and collapsed into bed. My back was stiff and my legs hurt but I felt a sense of accomplishment at being one of the 278 people who finished the ride of the 301 who started, even if nobody official noticed it.

The GPS conked out at 215 kms but the ride was close to 230 kms by the time I added in my detour. We had managed a creditable 23 km/h for the distance, which included around 2,500 m of climbing. But my planned recover ride today was just the 400 m to my favourite café, where I enjoyed a late breakfast and a nice slice of rhubarb streusel cake to celebrate my birthday a day late. But no french fries...

A Herd of Tin Donkeys: 1982 Colnago Super “Saronni”

2011-06-11T21:52:00.009+02:00

The Colnago Super, with a classic Del Tongo team jersey

My collection of bicycles has grown considerably since I arrived in Germany last year as I have added a number of interesting steel bikes to the fleet. High on my list of Bikes I Must Have has always been a Colnago, and in particular, a Saronni Red Mexico or Super.

Giuseppe Saronni and Ernesto Colnago in 1983

Ernesto Colnago is one of the Grand Old Men of the racing bicycle industry, having worked as a mechanic for Eddy Merckx and his famous Molteni team. Colnago established his company in 1954 in Cambiago, Italy (near Milan) but it was through Merckx and in particular his One Hour Record bicycle of 1972 that Colnago became famous. Although almost all Colnago bicycles today are built in the Far East, the company continues to be led by the founder and still seeks to innovate. Although some consider Colnago’s reputation overblown, to many the bikes remain representative of the highest standard in racing cycling.

Working with lightweight Columbus SL steel tubing, Colnago developed an iconic range of high-end racing bicycles in the 1970s and 1980s, the Mexico and very similar Super models, which were followed by the long-lived Master and Master Light steel bicycles. Colnago retains a steel bike in its lineup even today as a nod to its glorious past. And part of that glory and the legend of Colnago came through the exploits of racer Giuseppe Saronni.

Born in Piedmont, “Beppe” Saronni became a pro in 1977 and in a twelve year career was to win 193 races, including 24 stages of the Giro d’Italia. He won the Giro overall in 1979 and again in 1983, and included in his palmares are the Tour de Suisse, Milan-San Remo, the Giro di Lombardia and La Fleche Wallone. In 1982 he won the road World Championship in Goodwood, England, with an astonishing sprint that earned him the nickname of “the Goodwood Rifle-shot.” Protected perfectly during the race by the powerful Italian team, watch Saronni blast off in the last 200 meters of the race (at 0:58):

At Goodwood and the Giro and a lot of other races, Beppe Saronni rode a Colnago in a very distinctive wine-red paint scheme. This beautiful colour became known as “Saronni Red” and you can still get it on the current steel frame from Colnago. These are very expensive and are designed to be used with current groupsets but I had hoped to find an older bicycle in good condition, or at least a Saronni Red frame that I could build up with period components.

Earlier this year I was fortunate enough to be the winning bidder of a Colnago in what looked like good condition but part of the bargain was that the bike had to be picked up. Getting up early, I took a three hour train ride to Neustadt an der Weinstrasse, a picturesque little town in the wine region of Rheinland-Pfalz. I met the seller and we had a coffee in the charming old part of town before I took possession of the bike. I had planned to ride for a few hours before my train back but the seller was concerned about the condition of the tires, which he thought were original. I suspected that this was possible since everything else looked period except the seat. I decided to make my ride a short one and planned to leave on an earlier train.

I rode out of Neustadt, fully aware that if I had a flat tire there was no way for me to fix a tubular and I would be doing some walking, so I trained to ride a course parallel to the railway. The bike was in very good condition: the paint was still very shiny and the metal components unmarked for the most part. The decals were also quite good, which was surprising on a 30 year old bicycle finished without a protective clearcoat.

One of Saronni's own Colnagos, this one being at the museum at the Madonna del Ghisallo

I passed through vineyards and some small villages but my enjoyment of the ride was suddenly cut short as the seatpost let go and dropped into the frame. I had brought some tools with me but I was unable to tighten the seatpost binder bolt so I just rode to the nearest railway station that would bring me to the main line in Mannheim. I had lunch in Mannheim while waiting for my train. It was a busy weekend for travel and I was unable to get any reservation earlier than the one I had originally planned but at least I had some good food while waiting.

Subsequent to my return to Düsseldorf, I did some research on the bike. The seller had thought it was a 1981 Mexico but I soon learned that it was a Super (there is actually very little difference) and from the Campagnolo Super Record parts it dates to 1982, the same year Saronni won at Goodwood. The rubber brake hoods were shot and I have replaced them with correct Campagnolo replica hoods and I have changed the nasty plastic bar tape for some lovely Colnago-branded white cork tape. The brake cables were replaced. The strangely long 135 mm 3TTT black stem has been replaced by a pantographed Ernesto Colnago black stem, also by 3TTT and at a slightly shorter 130 mm. These stems are rather difficult to find but I wanted the bike to look as close as possible to the factory standard. Pedal cages and straps have been added and the modern gel saddle replaced with a NOS 1981 Selle San Marco Regal saddle, with copper rivets. This is the same saddle as on my Raleigh Team Professional and is very comfortable as well as beautiful.

Richard, my Mechanic par excellence, changed the stem for me as I could not figure out how 3TTT’s secret adjustment screw worked and he also corrected the more serious problem of the ovalization of the seat tube. He has worked his magic on the seatpost so even if the bolt, which now fits, fails, the seatpost will not drop down into the tube again. In his view, old Colnagos are among the best bicycles built as Ernesto’s primary concern was fit. I can certainly bear this out as the bicycle is very responsive and rides very smoothly. The only changes left are to rebuild the front wheel using the Mavic GP4 rim but with a Campagnolo Super Record hub (for some reason the front wheel has a Shimano hub) and I have the new hub already. I have a new set of decals, which I may wait a few years to use, and a pair of new Continental tubulars, although the present Vittorias seem to hold air well enough.

When I restored the Raleigh Team Pro, I found an old test report in Bicycling magazine, which compared the bike to its competitor, the Colnaglo Super. Now that I have examples of both bicycles I can conduct my own test. Much like Jan Raas and Freddy Maertens did at the 1982 Amstel Gold Race!

Amstel Gold, 1982: Jan Raas on a Raleigh Team Pro and then-World Champion Freddy Maertens on a Colnago Super (in Saronni Red!)

Cycling and New Friends

2011-06-08T21:49:00.009+02:00

Tom, Tim, Rudiger (l to r)

Rudiger's Wild Ruhr Ride, May 14, 2011

One of the greatest pleasures I have derived from cycling is finding new friends to ride with, sometimes in quite unexpected ways. I have ridden with Chill in Switzerland and the Duck in North Carolina after becoming acquainted with them through their blogs; Mario first rode with me on an organized tour in Sicily; I met Nick through Facebook; the Badger checked into a room next to mine in at a dreadful EconoLodge the day before Mountains of Misery in 2003; Ricci’s bike shop is nearby but we share a common interest in classic lightweight bikes; and most recently I have ridden with some Awesome Ausländern (“Foreigners”), Tom and Tim, along with their local roadie pal Rudiger, as a result of Tom’s having read this blog and realized I lived close by.

After exchanging some e-mails, Tom invited me to join him and his friends on a ride from Ratingen, around 8 kms from my apartment, and I did so on May 4. It was easy to get there even if the roads were pretty major but as it was early in the morning they were also traffic-free. I was a bit puzzled about dealing with all the streetcar tracks in Ratingen but managed to find my way without too much trouble to the small bakery where I saw three racing bikes and their riders. Tom introduced me to everyone and we set off at a good clip to the northwest, heading towards Heilinghaus and constantly climbing, it seemed.

The course we did was through a lot of small back roads as Rudiger enthusiastically drew us deeper and deeper into darkest NRW. Anyone who thinks it is flat around Düsseldorf need only spend a few hours in this area to learn that there are hills a’plenty. Rudiger had selected some prime ones for us and at 33.6 kms we had a brutal climb for a short distance east of Wülfrath that tested us all somewhat. 12 kms further along another hard climb beckoned.

On the Ruhr

Rudiger’s Wild Ride then brought us close to the Ruhr, and at Kupferdreh, south of Essen, we managed to persuade Rudiger we needed a refreshment break. We stopped for some coffee at a little café directly on the Ruhrradweg. The bike path is a very popular one in the region and this Saturday already saw a lot of traffic, with plenty of older Germans riding the heavy heavy bicycles that they love so much. We then rode a flat stretch along a widening of the river towards Werden at a good speed and had to take care among the crowds but eventually we were clear of the river and a final bit of climbing brought us to Kaiserswerth on the Rhine and Tom’s place. 91.62 kms on the road, and over 900 m of climbing for a good Saturday’s workout.

Although we had enjoyed quite good weather, it now began to rain and Tom was kind enough to drive me home in his excellent little Ford Fiesta. He was impressed with my ridiculous collection of bicycles and we agreed to ride again soon.

From the Erft to the Urft RTF, May 28, 2011

After our first successful ride, Tom discovered that a local bike club not far from Bonn in Euskirchen would be hosting an RTF (Radtourenfahrt), which is the German tour for an organized "cyclotourist" ride. They usually offer a selection of distances, refreshments en route, and excellent roads. This would be in the Eifel region, west of where I rode with Nick when we had done the Erftradweg, which goes through Euskirchen. I was quite keen to do the 150 km version as it promise some outstanding climbing and would help me catch up with my training deficit.

Tom and Rudiger collected me in the team Ford Fiesta at 7:15 and we drove towards Cologne to pick up Tim. That was our plan, anyway, but things went awry when we ran into brutal traffic congestion on the A3, which was down to one lane in each direction due to the omnipresent construction. We eventually worked our way around the traffic jam and got Tim but it meant a fairly late start when we got to Euskirchen. The first thing was to find a parking spot, which was not so easy as this RTF is clearly very popular and there were already a lot of cyclists present or out on the road already. The longest course was over 200 kms, and those riders would have started three hours before us.

After signing in, paying 7 Euros and getting a race number, we headed out on the course. It was a lovely area, and the course was extremely well-marked, so we found our way without too much trouble, occasionally seeing other cyclists but generally on our own. The organizers were particularly proud of their local hills and as you began to climb each one there was a nice sign showing the distance and gradient, although this was sometimes a bit depressing.

The hills were not terribly long but were in places very steep. However, the extreme windiness of the day made the first part of the ride, to the west and south, unbearable as we rode into a brutal headwind of some 30 km/h. This made progress on the climbs exhausting and we soon realized that with our late start and the headwind, coupled with our slow speed, we were not going to ride the 151 km course today. We instead opted for the 110 km one and found the route easily thanks to the markings the club had put up.

Some of the roads were familiar from the Erft trip. I had loaded the GPS course for the long ride but it turned out to be incorrect somehow (although the first 20 kms were right, so perhaps it was the course from last year) but it didn’t really matter as there was not much danger in getting lost. Once we turned northwards, we enjoyed an excellent tailwind and some flatter roads. We lost Rudiger for a short while near Bad Münstereifel as he tore down the main street in a small town and passed the turn sign, which I luckily saw a moment later while trying to chase him. Tim and Tom were just behind me so at least the three of us stayed on course.

Having some distance in my legs now and a flat road, I felt much stronger and was able to join up with a small group of very strong riders, holding a steady 47 km/h, but this fell pretty quickly as we turned back into the wind. Then I tagged along behind an impressively large rider for a while to recover. We introduced ourselves and had a pleasant conversation; he is the IBM Germany manager in Düsseldorf and we will have a business lunch soon. So, road cycling really is the new golf!

Tom, kindly holding up my bike during a photo session

Our group arrived back in Euskirchen, where we turned in our numbers, getting our 1 Euro deposit back. We had had a tough ride of 117 km with 1200 m of climbing, averaging a surprisingly good 22.4 km/h. It was my second RTF ever (the first being a ridiculous thing up and down and up and down the Kurfürstendamm in Berlin in 1999) and the organization was first-rate, with sufficient refreshments, a good choice of roads, fine route-marking and great scenery. I would like to go back to try the longer course without the wind but riding on either side of Bonn, in the Eifel or the Bergishes Land, is well worthwhile for any cyclist. To ride it with good friends is the icing on the cake, of course.

Figuring out how to repack the team car

Rudiger, Tim, Tom (l to r)

Tired but happy: Sprocketboy, Tim, Rudiger (l to r)

Riding the Siegtalradweg, kind of

2011-06-04T20:40:00.005+02:00

At my British friend Nick’s suggestion, today we planned to ride a section of the 140 km (or 128 km, depending on the source) bicycle path running alongside the Sieg River, to the east of Bonn in the Bergisches Land. Nick and I had ridden a section of this near Eitorf and I thought it would be a nice relaxing ride and a way to introduce my colleague, Henri, who is new to road cycling and has just purchased a very nice Storck Vision Lite bicycle, to the joys of riding in Germany. All of the websites I looked at suggested that the bike route was pretty flat as it followed the river valley and this would be a nice introduction. I figured out a route starting in Betzdorf that would allow us to get a tailwind as we headed west towards Bonn and I was hoping to ride 80-100 kms, finishing in mid-afternoon.

As Robert Burns noted, the best laid plans ‘o mice an’ men gang aft a-gley and our plans to went somewhat awry. Nick decided he would ride from his home in Seelscheid-Neunkirchen to meet us at the Betzdorf train station, which we arrived at after a transfer from Cologne which all went very smoothly. Nick’s ride was not so smooth since he began at 7 am and discovered every hill (including some 14% grades) between his home and Betzdorf, arriving with nearly 70 km in his legs and nearly 1,000 m of climbing!

After a late start, we realized that we could not find the Sieg bike path and heading in a likely direction along a river discovered we were following the Heller, thus keeping the Lost Boy tradition of immediately going in the wrong direction alive in Europe. Turning around and going back through Betzdorf, we headed westwards through some very busy streets as everyone in Betzdorf was going shopping but the traffic almost immediately evaporated and we found ourselves on an excellent road, the Landstrasse 62, that brought us quickly along the floodplain of the Sieg and even through some forests.

We had been told that the path itself had not been constructed everywhere and really only began near Hamm/Sieg. The road we were on was well-marked and we could make good time, so we were not complaining. It was framed by hills that had been excavated over the ages for coal. The road took us through Wissen, where Germany’s saddest railway station exists, being located under a series of concrete overpasses and consisting of a single ticket vending machine next to the tracks. We eventually found a place to get onto the paved path along the river but it kept coming back up (usually up a steep incline) and then at one point we took a turn along what was supposed to be our bike route but turned into something quite different

Once again we followed a river along a road that began in poor condition but improved. It clearly had almost no traffic ever and we were surprised to pass a nice-looking Gasthaus. Where did the customers come from? But then the fun was over as we realized we were heading in the wrong direction entirely. We decided to try and get to Hamm/Sieg and get back on course but this required climbing the most difficult hill of the day for us from the hamlet of Bruchertseifen up to Roth, some 120 m vertical in only 2 kms of climbing. My Basso was meant for flatter roads than this so I did not go up in a hurry, although I was eventually able to catch up to Henri for the mountain points.

After passing through Hamm/Sieg rather quickly, we crossed the Sieg at Au (!) and found the path again and were able to follow it for quite a while for a change. In Windeck we realized that we were getting thirsty in the hot sun so we decided to look for a place to get a cold drink and possibly some food. There was a ruined castle to see as well so we went uphill a bit to take a look.

Drinks were served at a place next to a 1789 watermill that had been restored and looked very nice. We had some alcohol-free beer which was quite refreshing and which will not tire you out in the heat of the day and exertion of riding.

While Henri and Nick relaxed a bit, I turned the Basso uphill and made my way as far as I could to the castle ruins, having to walk the last section of road which was steep dirt. The view was quite spectacular over the Sieg Valley and the castle ruins themselves were impressive. It must have been quite impressive to look at, the foundations of the towers indicating it was a major fortification. The sign on the wall that gave the detailed history of the castle suggested its heyday was from the 13th to the 17th Centuries, when it was pretty much destroyed by cannon during the 30 Years’ War. Typically, it then became a quarry for the locals needing building materials. A fancy villa was built next to it in the 1850s but this was completely destroyed by Allied bombing in World War II and there are not even any foundations left.

Leaving Windeck, we continued all the way to Eitorf, first along the bike path and then along the main road without getting lost. We caught up with a group of four cyclists who were managing a really pathetic paceline but moving pretty well nonetheless. We sat in and, when two of the riders jumped, we went with them. It was fun but then they all went their separate ways as we came to Eitorf. We had made some good progress so it was time to celebrate! Returning to our favourite café in Eitorf, we had some sandwiches and liquid replenishment before walking around the corner for a well-deserved (particularly in Nick’s case) ice cream.

Leaving Eitdorf, our navigation of the Sieg did not go so well as we headed towards Hennef, first going into a dead-end and then winding up on a mountain bike trail that saw some walking, although Nick managed this quite well with his mountain bike experience and Henri looked good with his 23 mm tires too. The Basso is actually set up to ride this kind of “road” but my lack of experience on the trail made me nervous. And strangely enough during our ride on the mountain bike trail we had some very light (and rather welcome in the heat) rain.

Eventually we found our way to Hennef and the railway station where we met Nick’s girl friend, Nadja, who had taken mercy on him so that he did not have to add to his 160 kms and 1900 m of climbing for the day and could get a ride home without climbing four more ridges. After we enjoyed some more cold alcohol-free Weissbier at the surprisingly nice station café, we parted company. Henri and I took the S-Bahn to Köln Deutz-Messe, where we transferred to an absolutely packed Regio train for the mercifully-short 30 minute ride back to the main station in Düsseldorf.

Although Henri and I only rode about 90 kms and just over 750 m vertical compared to Nick’s epic ride, it had been a hard and somewhat frustrating day as the failure of the bike route to live up to its promise had dented our pleasure somewhat. But parts of it were really excellent, and it was still better than the gruesome Erftradweg!

Fine Art Photography: Clark Vandergrift

2011-06-02T12:15:00.009+02:00

Two of my Lost Boy friends have alerted me to a very talented photographer, Clark Vandergrift, who, in addition to his fine art photography, has done some short videos on cycling that are quite lovely. Here is one showing the races at Bike Jam, a bicycle festival that includes amateur races held each year in Baltimore, Maryland.

On his photography website here there is also an atmospheric video about training, "Roadie," which you can enjoy here. And unrelated to cycling is his highly creative "Tree People" which you can check out on his website as well.

A Bergisches Land Loop: April 25, 2011

2011-05-31T20:48:00.006+02:00

The Sieg River, with the Siegtalradweg on the left

Following our successful excursion to Liège over the Easter Weekend, my friend Nick invited me to ride in his neck of the woods, the Bergisches Land. My first excursion there in October had not gone so well as I fell off my bicycle but I was pretty confident after two days of riding the Ardennes, so I took my little rental car down the A3 towards Cologne in preparation for an excellent day of cycling. I found my way to Nick’s house in Neunkirchen-Seelscheid without any problem and unloaded the Specialized Tarmac. The weather, as it had been for the whole weekend, was superb.

We were to be joined by a third rider but he could not be there as his daughter had been stung by a bee and was off to the hospital so it was just the two of us who pulled out. For a moment the ride went well but on our first tiny hill I suddenly discovered that I could not shift gears with my rear derailleur very well. From all the taking off and putting on of wheels over the last few days the mechanism had gotten out of calibration but a few turns on the adjusting barrel and it was all fine again.

Riding through the quiet green countryside, our ride began with a gentle descent until we reached 14 kms, when the first hill of the day made us work as we made our way up to Göpringhausen, passing an old paper mill on the way. We continued past horse farms and wide field until we reached the picturesque little village of Ruppichteroth, where we stopped briefly to look at the old church and the excellent half-timbered houses. There was a fine flower-bedecked fountain to admire, and after admiring it we left the village (taking us on a route not expected by Nick) we climbed up out of the valley and heading south. Soon we had a noble descent that brought us to Herchen, where we rode for a while on the Sieg bicycle path, a smooth asphalt track that runs alongside the river for around 140 kms.

A break for a fine cup of coffee in Eitorf and then it was time for our big hill challenge of the day as we crossed the Sieg and began an impressive ascent from Bourauel to Hohn, gaining 150 m in only 2 kms. When we got to the top and admired the view, I mentioned to Nick the benefits of interval training on a nice steady hill like this, so of course we turned around and rode it all over again at racing speed. I think my Ardennes rides really helped as I felt quite good on the climb and enjoyed a little sprint on reaching the flat stretch at the top.

After we had recovered a bit from this exertion, we rode into an area that was new to Nick, so we got a bit lost but soon he found the correct way after a dead end in Stockum. There was a lot of climbing left in the course as I found out in Winterscheid as my legs were beginning to make their displeasure known. “Shut up, legs!”, to quote Jens Voigt, and so they did and so we went on, including a rather brutally steep little climb to bring us back to Neunkirchen-Seelscheid. It had been an excellent ride on quiet roads, and a bit of a challenge, covering 85.59 and 1300 m vertical. And of course we enjoyed a great big ice cream each at the end!

2011 Skoda Velothon Berlin

2011-05-23T21:37:00.005+02:00

Photo: Berliner Morgenpost

As a loyal long-time reader of Germany's TOUR cycling magazine and a former resident of the capital, I was intrigued to read about the launch of the Skoda Velothon in Berlin in 2008. It was meant to showcase the city and allow enthusiastic amateurs to cycle on closed roads past many celebrated landmarks. Now that I am back in Germany, I took the opportunity to sign up for a fun weekend and I am glad that I did.

Renting a car and driving was not the best idea as it actually took longer than the slow trains you have to take if you are transporting a bike but I enjoyed driving the little VW Polo (except during the omnipresent traffic jams and construction slowdowns). The little car cruised very easily at 140 km/h and consumed miserly amounts of fuel while doing it. It took my bike and the usual ton of junk cyclists need when they go anywhere in the back with plenty of room to spare with the rear seat folded down. Having never really driven in Berlin (I did not own a car in the four years I lived there), I was surprised again at just how huge it is and leaving the autobahn I still had 18 kms of in-city driving to get to the friend's apartment where I was staying. Leaving Du"sseldorf at 05:30, I rolled to a stop in Berlin just after 13:00.

Quickly getting cleaned up, we headed to the Brandenburg Gate, the most famous symbol of the city. The roads were already closed off and there were lots of cyclists buzzing around the adjoining Avenue of the 17th of June. There was a cycling fair set up with local merchants and well-known international brands hawking their wares, along with the de rigeur beer and bratwurst areas. Within five minutes I had my registration completed and was equipped with my bright green swag bag, which included my 3,000th water bottle and some neat stuff, including shampoon, sunscreen, Sport Beans, and, most important, instructions for the ride itself. I would be doing the ride with two of the Lost Boys who had come to the Pyrenees last summer and I made contact with them so that we would meet up the next morning to get to our start block together.

The cycling fair, and the Brandenburg Gate in the background

Andrew was coming from Leipzig on an early train and this did not work out so well as one of the inexplicable delays that now plagues Deutsche Bahn struck and he would be stranded in Bitterfeld for an hour and a half. I met Dan, riding his fancy new Cervelo R2, outside Andrew's apartment and we rode over to Unter den Linden and found Starting Block D. There are huge numbers involved in this, the 2nd biggest cycling event in Europe, and all around us were people who, as Dan noted, all kind of looked like us. Helmets, sunglasses, colourful jerseys, fancy bikes. And, to our amazement and delight, Andrew somehow managed to get into our Block D in time to start, although there were so many people we could not find him. Thanks to the miracle of cellphones, we told him to look out for us on the right side after the start as we would slow pedal a bit.

A lot of things seemed to be happening at the Brandenburg Gate, and there was cheering for what must have been the start of the race--a group of "promis" were going out first--but eventually our collagues in Block D began to roll out and we were soon off and spinning through the marvellous landmark with its famous Quadriga on top. We turned left and rolled through Potsdamer Platz. Andrew caught up to us pretty quickly and we focussed on holding a good position in the group. With some 13,000 participants divided between the earlier 60 km route and our 120 km one, there were some pretty wide variations in speed and skill levels and several times at this early point we were overtaken by some very fast cyclists riding in disciplined team formations.

Photo: Berliner Morgenpost

Our route took us through the Tiergarten and into Charlottenburg, my old Kiez, and then into the Grunewald. The road became quite narrow here and the majority of the few hills on the ride were to be found here. I lost Andrew and Dan as faster riders forced their way by on the left and slower climbers blocked me in front but I figured I would catch up to them at the food stop.

The ride alongside the Wannsee and then along the no-cars-allowed Kronzprinzessenweg was second nature to me as I used to ride it several times a week. With long straight stretches I was able to go into time trial mode. I wanted to shorten the distance Dan and Andrew were ahead and I was surprised when I looked back and saw that I was now leading a train of a dozen very fast-looking riders!

Past the huge mansions in Zehlendorf and then a sharp right as we rode south to Teltow and left Berlin proper for the Bundesland of Brandenburg. Riding through the typical Brandenburg villages, houses in a single file spread out along the road, we were cheered on by hundreds of spectators. Things went swimmingly as I moved from fast group to fast group until we turned east near Gro"ben and met a fierce headwind. Schluss mit lustig, as the Germans say. "So much for the fun..."

It was a hard slog through open fields most of the way to Ludwigsfelde but I was starting to feel better when I pulled into the food stop. I quickly spotted Andrew and Dan and downed some water. Andrew was not feeling very well and was going to ride slowly. I was feeling pretty good at this point and thought I would ride ahead and see how things looked.

To my surprise, I found myself on a stretch of autobahn and although the wind was still strong it was more from the side than the front so for the next ten kilometres or so Iwent into full time trial mode, holding a pretty steady 34-36 km/h. I kept hoping a group near this speed would come up at some point but except for some of the club riders it looked like after the food stop everything had gotten disorganized and everyone was riding for themselves. I had also seen a surprising number of accidents, with injured cyclists stretched out on the ground or being assisted by ambulance crews. Oddly, none of the crashes took placed on the tricky turns but rather on straight areas in the middle of nothing. Of course, the fact that Germans tend to ride their bikes the way they drive their cars and cut you off after passing probably did not help. I was almost taken out myself by an overtaking group on the B101 autobahn stretch.

Near the bear statue marking the boundary of Berlin a big crowd had gathered so of course I had to sprint a bit as I went by. I was starting to feel the effects after the 100 km mark and I was working hard to stay hydrated. The weather had been ideal but it was now hot and the sun really beat down as we approached noon.

I felt that I was getting my strength back when we made the turn into the former Tempelhof Airport, which is now a sort of multi-use park with runways. Of course, the runway was taking us due east and I really was battered by the headwind here. It was very cool to ride the entire length of the runway, considering that the last time I had actually been on the runway I had been sitting in a PanAm Boeing 727.

We passed through Kreuzberg and Friedrichshain, passing the O2 Arena and then returning to Mitte and the Tiergarten. As I swung past another famous Berlin symbol, the Siegesäule, or Column of Victory, whose crowning statue, known familiarly to Berliners as the Gold Else, was recently restored to her golden glory, I felt a stabbing pain at the top of my right leg. Stupid cramp! The muscle was seizing up rapidly and I was considering getting off my bike and shaking it out, but with less than 1000 m to go I shifted to an easier gear and found I could spin pretty quickly. The route was marked with countdown signs--750m, 500m, 250m--and I found that I actually had something still in reserve so seeing quite a few cyclists ahead I put on full steam and surged for a big sprint finish. The photos, taken near the finish line, show me with the game face, but I was pretty happy with my ride and I really enjoyed the day out.

Turning in the transponder was easy and I got a receipt for it and my medal. I sat under a tree and had a cold Erdinger (alcohol free), took off my shoes to ease my burning feet, and called Andrew. He was near the Brandenburg Gate with Dan so I rode back over there and met them, along with Dan's friend Caroline, who had very thoughtfully brought some pizza along. Andrew was concerned about the state of his training as he will join us for the next Lost Boys trip this June in Austria but in fact he and Dan, in spite of their talk of riding slowly, only finished 65 seconds behind me.

It had been a great day. I had averaged over 33 km/h for the 118 km course and felt good. I did not stay around for the pro race organized by German former sprinting star Erik Zabel, but it was the first time it had been added to the Velothon progamme. It was won by a young German riding for the Dutch Skil-Shimano team.

Several years ago I rode the Cyclassics Jedermann Rennen in Hamburg which, with 22,000 participants, ranks as the largest in Europe. Now that I have ridden the Skoda Velothon Berlin and the Cyclassics Hamburg, it is a shame a similar event that was to have run in late July in Munich has been cancelled for 2011, although the organizers (which include TOUR) hope to have it on for next year. The cost of an event that basically sees a major city's streets closed for most of the day must be considerable and I found the organization of the Velothon very impressive, and worth recommending.

Wouter Weylandt: 1984-2011

2011-05-09T19:10:00.003+02:00

In terrible news from this year's Giro d'Italia, popular Belgian professional racer Wouter Weylandt, riding for Team Leopard-Trek, crashed fatally on a high-speed descent 24 kms from the finish of today's stage.

Wouter Weylandt, who won a stage during last year's Giro, became a professional in 2004. He rode for QuickStep as a teammate of Tom Boonen and was seen as a rising star in Boonen's style. I first read about him when he joined QuickStep as an impressive new prospect. A big handsome man with a professional attitude, he had already been visible animating this year's Giro. His tragic death at only 26 (and only four months away from becoming a father) comes as a shock and a sad reminder that the sport we love can be very dangerous and that we should all be as careful as possible out there. Of course, his loss to pro racing is but little compared to his loss to his family and friends and teammates and my condolences go out to them.

Rolling with the Golden Oldies

2011-05-01T19:24:00.008+02:00

Today, May 1, I had originally considered doing a bike marathon in the Eifel Mountains but given the signals my body sent last week in the Ardennes, I thought it might be better to work up towards other rides in Berlin and Bonn later this month and in June. The weather has been cooperative and today I took the opportunity to drag my not-unwilling colleague, Henri, who has been equipped to ride the Chesini Olimpiade with clipless pedals, along for his second ride on a racing bicycle. The tour of choice was the monthly Klassikerausfahrt, featuring an approximately 50 km ride at a reasonable speed, a great deal of cake, old steel bikes and good company.

We rolled into the Ricci-Sports shop around 10:30 and there was already a good crowd. Taking advantage of the excellent weather (which has gone on now for several weeks in a row), our numbers were pretty big. There were a lot of interesting bikes, along with the old favourites like Klaus’ Bottechia and Carsten’s Peugeot. There were three Dutch Gazelles, as well as Konrad’s lovely red RIH from Holland, a Puch from Austria, a tricolori Faggin, along with other samples of the Italian builder’s art from Benotto, Chinetti, Gios and Cinelli, as well as my own Basso and the Chesini. I was particularly drawn to a Rickert Spezial, a locally-built bike from Dortmund, an example of which I would love to have in my own collection. Hugo Rickert brazed the Reynolds 531 tubes and his wife painted the bikes, including the lovely lug outlines on this dark blue bike. A feast for the eyes and no Hangar Queens in the bunch. All these bikes are meant to be enjoyed on the road. And it was encouraging to be joined by two youngsters, also riding steel frames, and, for a change, more than a single woman!

After the customary croissants and coffee, the 30 or so riders organized themselves into an untidy mess of a line and headed off into the parade of traffic lights that marks our progress out of Düsseldorf. We rode along the Rheinufer past the Altstadt and reassembled in dribs and drams at the base of the Rheinturm television tower. One rider already fell victim to a mechanical as he hit some glass leftover by careless drunk people celebrating the traditional “Tanz in den Mai” the night before. And a bit further down the road, Henri had an issue with the back wheel jamming a bit on the Chesini but that was just a matter of readjusting the position of the wheel, although the new position meant that we could hear his brake pads whenever he slowed down for a while. I think that he also became apprehensive about shifting after this incident so we have to work on this a bit more.

After crossing the Rhine, we followed some of the same path that I had taken on Carsten’s Sunday ride two weeks ago although I noticed a few details, such as a reconstructed Roman watchtower I had overlooked before. It was good to be out in the country and besides the yellow dandelions we saw some lovely purple flowers adding colour to the green fields. The crops are filling in compared to two weeks ago.

At the furthest point out, in Wevelinghoven, we took a short break for a drink and then continued along the nicely paved field roads that are such a feature of Germany. Surprisingly, things began to happen at this point: a flat, a crash, some riders going the wrong way and even a pedal that fell off! But eventually everybody got back on track and we crossed the Erft once again and headed through ugly Neuss (which only seems to consist of main roads) before getting back into Düsseldorf.

Things became hilarious here. Richard rides like the wind on his singlespeed bike and he was cutting a path for Henri and me through the crowds of Sunday cyclists on the bike path along the river. We were tearing along at a good speed (watching out for roots and small children), when we were overtaken by four very fast riders. Richard knew them and took off and I made a big effort to try and keep up, without hitting any baby carriages or dogs. He told me that the group of four included three pros (local matador Sven Teutenberg among them) and a very fast amateur.
In gratitude for his guidance skills, Richard is presented with a really cheesy handlebar bag

We climbed the big bridge into the Media-Hafen, slowed down by a couple of mountain bikers who were pushing (!) their bikes up but we were able to thread our way through the crowds although the Altstadt was pretty full at this point and all returned to the shop without any further incidents. There was cake and lots of bike talk and another successful Klassikerausfahrt was over.

Henri and the racing bike of his dreams

Henri and I rode back to my apartment and enjoyed a beer and some popcorn seasoned with white truffle oil on the sunny balcony. 59 kms ridden, 150 meters of climbing and a pleasant Sunday was had by all.

Ardennes Interlude: Day 2

2011-04-30T16:41:00.004+02:00

After a successful first day, I was looking forward to a second day of climbing in Belgian. My legs felt surprisingly good at breakfast and once we were on the road I warmed up quickly in the Spring sunshine as we climbed a hill on the outskirts of La Roche.

The road climbed steadily through the villages of Hives and Ortho, with some good opportunities for photography. At one point I was at the front and enjoyed a descent along some wonderful smooth asphalt taking me through some excellent curves to a main road, the N834. Of course, once I reached the road, I realized nobody else was coming along so I had obviously missed a turn. Climbing back up the way I came, I met Robert who coming down to look for me and we rode together to the turn-off, a road it was very easy to miss and which, in fact, was to lead us more or less to a rocky track. Then the rocky track dropped steeply downhill, so steeply that several of us decided to walk it. And, of course, in the end it brought us to the N834.

We continued on this road for a while and then our route took us once more along a gravel path but this was actually quite suitable for cycling so there was not so much complaining. We enjoyed the ups and downs of the route’s nearly empty roads and eventually came to the same road we had used the day before, bringing us back to La Roche.

It was decision time: there was an optional loop which would take us up a tricky climb, the Col du Haussire. At breakfast I had considered skipping this but it was still early in the day and my legs felt good, so why not? Our brave band was down to four and after a false start, we soon found the small road leading up and up and up. The beginning of the climb seemed reasonable but I decided to take my time. It was only 3.3 kms long but about halfway along the forested road it began to pitch up. I could really feel gravity bite but I kept my pace steady, albeit pretty slow. No sign of cramping but plenty of effort involved. I saw the others ahead and I managed to come over the top with a big sprint finish. It turns out that the Col du Haussire is considered the toughest climb in Belgium as you gain 275 m of altitude. Although the average gradient is 8.3%, the steepest part is 18%!

Feeling heroic, we bounced down the rather poor road on the north side and then turned left onto the main road, the N89, which rapidly brought us back to La Roche. It was here that I left the others and rode back to the hotel for a quick shower and packing up the bike and luggage to take me to Liège and the next installment of my Ardennes adventure: watching the pros race “La Doyenne,” the oldest bike race there is Liège-Bastogne-Liège.

An Interlude in the Ardennes

2011-04-22T17:31:00.013+02:00

Through a complex series of connections, my Easter long weekend is going to be on big bike adventure. My coach from California, Rob Panzera, of Cycling Camp San Diego, is here with a small group to ride in a ten day Ardennes Classics training camp and then watch the Liege-Bastoge-Liege race on Sunday. I have joined them for two days of cycling, and then I will go off to Liege by myself to meet up with a different group for a minivan tour of the race and a VIP dinner at the famous La Redoute climb. Rob, who has written a coaching book that I will review shortly, offers a great program and support for cyclists, whether in California, Virginia or in Europe.

Organizing my transportation from Düsseldorf to Belgium turned out to be quite a chore as the railway would take ages to get to the nearest town where the group was staying and I would then somehow have to make my way with my bike and gear over there. The solution turned out to be pretty simple as I found a car rental agency in Düsseldorf that would rent me a small car for 29 Euros per day, all inclusive. Of course, the car would have advertising all over it, but it was all the same to me.

So: can anyone guess how much my rental car cost?

Picking it up on Thursday, I put in the TomTom GPS from the office and navigated my way home to pick up my luggage and the bike. The car was an Opel Corsa five door hatchback with no fewer than 92 km on it. Of course, it has a standard transmission but I managed to get back to the apartment with a minimum of fuss and even found a street parking spot directly opposite.

Loading up everything (the Corsa is very roomy with the rear seat folded), I left at 7 pm, an hour later than I had originally hoped. Getting to the autobahn did not go so well this time as I had a couple of stalling episodes. Germans get hysterical if they are delayed for a moment and they immediately lean on their horns if you don’t leap away from a traffic light. En route, the TomTom misdirected me off the autobahn and I had to turn around and that was also a bit complicated doing this in heavy traffic but all things are possible. Once I was on the autobahn, I had no difficulty, although the car is no Porsche and at higher speeds it feels pretty unsteady on its little wheels. But by the time I reached the hotel in La Roche-en-Ardenne after two hours of driving, we were on good terms.

The others were in La Roche itself for a drink, so I enjoyed an excellent plate of pasta with fresh vegetables and then a beautiful Eiskaffee (La Café Glacé in Belgium). The group came back just before I went to bed so we talked for a bit and then I slept very soundly.

This morning we have a very good breakfast to fortify ourselves for the trip ahead. Jo, Robert’s business partner, had sent GPS coordinates for the trip, and I managed to load my Garmin Edge 305 successfully on only the second try. My pleasure was short-lived, however, as when I later wanted to put the unit on my bike, the screen went blank and has stayed that way. After five years I suspect that the rechargeable internal battery will simply take no more charges, so I will probably need to send it to Garmin for an overhaul. I will try to find a spare unit on E-Bay since I do not want to be without a GPS on my rides. I did save the route on the Internet and it is shown in this posting.

Phillip gets us psyched up, Ben in the black Rapha pro kit

Just before 10:00 we met Phillip, who had set up the route for us and lives nearby, along with two British riders, Ben and Anton (a strong rider on a steel Condor bike with mudguards and a 44 tooth small chainring!) connected to the Rapha Condor racing team. They were all discouragingly fit-looking. Phillip had set out a course for 80 kms, with roughly 1500 meters of climbing. He claimed that there would be five climbs. Looking at the profile, this seemed very doubtful as the roads in the Ardennes all go up sooner or later.

Our group consisted of these three, plus Robert, Jo and the group of hobby cyclists from the US: Graham and Sonny from California and Rachel and Kevin from the East Coast. And me.

Leaving our very charming and comfortable hotel, the La Claire Fontaine, we headed north, crossing a small river, the Vespre, before almost immediately beginning a longish climb. It was not terribly steep but coming within 500 m of the start of the ride I could feel it pretty quickly. It has been some time since I have carried this much weight and I was not enjoying the effects very much.

Rachel modelling with the Trojan Horse

There was a fair amount of up-and-downing after this, until we began to get into a serious climb near Heyde. Phillip took us on a short detour, up an agonizing little hill, to see a hotel that has theme rooms. We were all enchanted by the big Trojan Horse, which is not something you see at every hotel. There was also a lovely view. The Ardennes are heavily-forested, rolling hills and there were many flowering trees. And an amazing amount of pollen in the air.

Graham modelling with the Trojan Horse too

Next on the agenda was a quite hard climb of around 9 kms. It was not terribly steep but the length of it and my lack of training were not a good combination. But I could keep Graham and Rachel in sight for most of the time, so it was not discouraging. At the end, a quick short downhill brought us to a café for a break at the 46 km mark in Manhay. I need to practice my French as well as my climbing since the waitress ignored my order for café au lait and mineral water and brought me an espresso and tap water with ice instead.

Kevin and Graham, near our hotel

Back on the bikes, we now had a 5 km climb, followed by a section of fairly flattish road into a headwind. The headwind was a bit discouraging and I was beginning to drag a bit. I loaded up on gel and some other quick-energy foods and felt better as we came into a great stretch of flat to downhill road that ran for about 6 kms, followed by a huge descent that brought us into La Roche. The really good riders blasted through this but I was not encourage by the state of the asphalt and took my time. It seems that in this part of Wallonia the roads are either excellent or pretty bad.

La Roche-en-Ardenne, with its castle ruins, river and colourful kayakers

La Roche was crazy-busy, unlike last night when I drove through. The others had already identified the best bakery, where I picked up a rhubarb turnover and a apricot jam-filled waffle, and then we all met in the main square of the town to eat and recover from the ride. We were on our own as the Phillip and the Rapha boys had left and it was fun to watch the Good Friday crowds enjoying the amazingly warm and sunny April weather.

Happy Ardennes Classics campers (from right to left): Rachel, Kevin, Jo, Rob, Graham

I rode back to the hotel along the river with Kevin and Graham. After a brief nap, I went to the bar to meet the others and we enjoyed some fine Belgian beer and an excellent dinner. The forecast tomorrow is for more excellent weather and another great ride.

A Spring Sunday Ride to Neuenhausen

2011-04-17T18:10:00.009+02:00

Carsten, who is to blame

Carsten, one of the enthusiasts behind the Klassikerausfahrt series of retro-rides here in Düsseldorf, sent an e-mail around yesterday, asking for participants for a Sonntagsrunde of 2-4 hours, leaving from a café directly down the street from my apartment. With the beautiful Spring weather and the guarantee of good company, who was I to refuse?

We met at 11:00, with the idea of leaving at 11:15. Of course, put a group of Germans on tables outside of a café on a bright morning and you know that everyone is going to order coffee. It was excellent, and our departure was not delayed by much.

This was not meant to be a Klassikerausfahrt but six of the seven riders came with steel bicycles anyway. We had a Peugeot, an Eddy Merckx, a Masi 3V, a Bottechia and my Basso, among others. We rode off into the quiet city streets, our route taking us to the south and west as we passed areas new to me, including the Volksgarten park, the big Stoffeln cemetery and the university hospital. We crossed the Rhine on a bridge carrying Autobahn 46, and then turned a bit north, taking small side streets and agricultural roads through the villages of Derikum and Norf before heading south again through Rosellen, Rosellerheide and Neuenbaum.

We made another turn to the south on a dirt road. The Basso, fitted with 28mm tires and extra cyclocross “frogleg” brake levers was ideal for this and I was able to go surprisingly fast. A bit too fast as I basically rode into the back wheel of Klaus’ Bottechia! I realized that I could not stop fast enough so I turned a bit to the left to go around him–just as he moved left as well! So I bounced off his rear wheel, catching it on the side, and let the bike carry me off the path into the bushes. These stopped me pretty quickly with no damage (I did not even fall off) but I felt pretty embarrassed, although everyone else was amused and I was even complimented on my bike handling skills!

The dirt road turned out not to be what we needed, so we backtracked to the main road and swept through Neukirchen. In the next village, Hülchrath, we took a sudden left turn past a café and there ahead of us was the gateway to a really big castle! Riding through the gate, we were confronted with a massive building. It was really beautiful, surrounded by gardens made dense green by the fine weather. Flowering trees were everywhere on our route today and they were here as well. A group was sitting at a big table and we sat down ourselves to enjoy some cold drinks before continuing the ride.

There was a small sign, erected in 2005, in the gatehouse listing the dates of importance in the existence of Schloss Hülchrath, the best-preserved medieval water castle in Germany. It began in 900 AD, when a fortress was constructed to protect the area from marauding Vikings and Normans, but the first written references date to 1120. It was witness to various wars, and at one point the village of Hülchrath was completely destroyed. By 1688, many of the buildings were dismantled and the remainder was falling into ruin. It came into the hands of an aristocratic family in 1803, which held it for a century, and the last new construction took place in 1907. In 1947, 600 refugees from the former German territories to the East were housed here. In 1955 it came into the ownership of the family that still has it and it is used for weddings and other events and is available for advertising purposes. It was also the home of a Neil Young festival in April, with the Great Man himself going there on April 1! I will have more to say about the sign in the gatehouse and Schloss Hülchrath below, but back to our ride...

Cyclists: always hungry, always thirsty

Leaving the Schloss, our road took us through more villages and suburban housing until we came to Neuenhausen. An impressive hill loomed up above us and, sure enough, we were to ride up it. The road was very good, with some twists and turns, but although I could maintain a decent pace, I was huffing away about halfway up and cursing all those pastries I have eaten over the last seven months.

On reaching the top, we came to big plateau, where the huge turbines of a wind farm were to be found. This was the closest I have ever stood to one in operation and it was surprisingly quiet. The fields were pretty, with bright yellow flowering rapeseed and flowering trees (and, yes, in the distance a smoking power plant). One of the cyclists had a mechanical issue, with a broken spoke on the back wheel. The experts in the group did what they could and we then enjoyed an exhilarating descent down the other side of the hill where I reached my maximum speed for the day of 52 km/h.

Regrouping at the bottom, we retraced our route and rode past Hülchrath again and then rode parallel to the Erft, where I had ridden a few weeks ago, and eventually entered Neuss, a large city opposite Düsseldorf on the Rhine. The group lost a bit of it cohesion here and after crossing the Rhine we all made our way back separately to the café for yet more coffee. An excellent time was had by all and I am glad that I put on suntan lotion, an unusual thing for a Canadian to do in April. Returning home, I discovered that the television coverage of the Amstel Gold race was not over so I was able to enjoy a great finish before my well-deserved shower and beer.

Our route covered 78.03 kms, with 331 m of climbing. The total time was 4:22, with 3:36, giving an average moving speed of 21.6 km/h. The group does not ride a paceline so the average speed is excellent, considering how long it takes to get out of a city. It is very early in the season for me and I feel tired now, but it is a great feeling and I look forward to my next ride with the group.

More on Schloss Hülchrath

Additional research after I got home revealed some very interesting facts about the castle. The sign does not indicate what it was used for during World War II but the Schloss’ own webpage notes that various organizations, including the SS, the Reich Labour Office and the Hitler Youth and its female counterpart, the BDM, occupied it. It was an “Ordensburg,” which usually refers to the training centres administered by the SS to develop Germany’s next leaders.

In fact, Schloss Hülchrath had another purpose under the Nazis, which is not referred to on the website or the sign in the gatehouse. It was the primary training centre for the Werwolf operation, established in 1944 as a guerrilla command to resist the Allied invasion and then to conduct sabotage and destablization activities during the occupation. It executed those it felt were collaborating with the enemy. It was believed that the assassination of Franz Oppenhoff, the Lord Mayor of Aachen, who had been placed in office by American forces, in March 1945 was carried by a Werwolf unit from Schloss, although evidence subsequently suggests it was a joint SS/Luftwaffe action. Made up primarily of boys and old men, poorly-armed and led, Werwolf failed to slow down the advancing Allied forces but continued it activities after the surrender. Strong countermeasures by the Allies, coupled with the unwillingness of a war-weary populace to continue to support the Nazi cause, meant that its propaganda effect was probably more significant than its actual accomplishments.

It is curious to me that this very interesting role of Schloss Hülchrath is not mentioned on the sign or in a bit more detail on the website. Germany has not been shy about indicating where activities of the Nazi regime occurred and the creation of the Werwolf operation was the last desperate effort of the Third Reich to find a way to fight even when it was clear the war was lost.

Bike Town and A Ride to Erkrath

2011-04-16T20:24:00.006+02:00

It was a beautiful Spring day today and my colleague Henri picked me up at 9:30 for the one hour's drive to Bocholt and the biggest bike store around. Henri is interested in starting to cycle more seriously and I offered to loan him one of my classic steel bikes to see how he like riding a lightweight bicycle but I suggested that he get a set of clipless pedals and shoes, as well as the usual useful things (particularly a helmet).

Bocholt, located on the Aa River (seriously) is about 100 kms north of Düsseldorf, very close to the Dutch border. Rose Versand, Germany's largest retailer of bicycle equipment, was founded in the town in 1907 and now has 250 employees and a massive mail-order operation. The gigantic 2011 catalogue is 936 pages in size and is printed in German and in English.

As we walked to the store entrance, we passed a vending machine selling Continental inner tubes, which is a great idea if you need a tube and the store is closed. We passed a display of the impressive trailer hitch bike racks, complete with full-sized auto turn signals, that the Germans like so much, and found ourselves entering the nirvana that is Bike Town.

Bike Town is the retail store next to the main office and is three storeys of bikes and accessories, covering 6,000 m² and offering 20,000 items. It has a bike repair shop and a cafe so you could spend a great deal of time there, although Henri and I chose not to ride through the place like this cyclist:

After getting Shimano SPD pedals and matching shoes and cleats, a helmet, gloves, a repair kit and minipump and several other things, Henri was set. I bought an extra SpeedLever (the finest tool ever conceived) and one more storage rack so that I could rearrange the bicycles in my garage. We both took away catalogues and BDR guides to organized rides in 2011 in Germany.

After a nice lunch in Bocholt that involved chanterelle mushrooms, we returned to Düsseldorf and I replaced the Campagnolo pedals, with their toeclips and straps, with the SPD pedals on the Chesini. I added the pump to the frame, as well as the new tool kit and inflated the tires. Henri in the meantime went home for his shorts and jersey and soon joined me. A few minutes of adjusting brought the seat to the right height and now he was set to ride a Real Bicycle.

First lesson was to send him up and down the street learning to click in and out of the clipless pedals. After some initial difficulty getting the hang of this, he quickly found the correct position and was soon getting in and out like a pro. I showed him that we don't ride in the drops very often but he would find it more comfortable to ride the tops of the handlebars or the brake hoods. For a new rider this is a bit nerve-wracking as he felt he was too far from the brakes. He is used to a commuting bike where the brake levers are at hand. As he got used to the bike, and the rapid steering and light handling, he was less apprehensive. Then it was an explanation of gearing and shifting. The Chesini uses Campagnolo friction shifters on the frame and while the shifters work well, these also take some getting used to as you need to reach down for the shift. But everything was coming together well enough that I was confident we could do a ride now.

The route I picked was most of the way to Neandertal, but would bring us up a steep hill before circling back. The weather was ideal, fair and 15ºC and no wind to speak of. Riding the bike path out of town was easy and did not require riding in traffic. Leaving Düsseldorf, we had to deal with cars and buses but it was not so bad. I told Henri to keep a sharp eye out on the road, and also to shift gears before he needed to do so. We rode through Erkrath and then made the turn to the left off the L357 road that took us up the big hill on Metzkausener Strasse.

A ride with one serious climb!

The Chesini has lower gearing than the Basso I was riding but Henri probably had no need of it as he easily kept up to me. The first part of the road is not so bad and I started off confidently but about two-thirds of the way up there is a nasty curve and pitch-up. I was really feeling the 8 extra kilograms I have packed on in Germany since my arrival and was huffing and puffing to get to the top. Heading northwest took us to the intersection with Landstrasse 7, where we turned around and retraced our route. We saw several other cyclists coming up the hill, so it is obviously a local Test of Strength, but we continued along the crest of the hill on Gans Strasse and then turned downhill back to Erkrath. The road is actually a bit potholed so you cannot get the kind of speed you have earned with the big climb.

We retraced the rest of the route back to Düsseldorf and my place. We were on the road for 1:08, covering 23.55 kms and climbing 165 m. It was a good introduction to road cycling for Henri, and a test of his new equipment, and I look forward to doing more riding with him. There are many nice areas to visit here and we might be able to use his car as well to get to some jump-off points, avoiding city traffic.

Another Video of L'Eroica 2010

2011-04-12T13:35:00.005+02:00

The weather is getting ideal for cycling here on the Rhein, and although I have a lot of events in mind for 2011, l'Eroica continues to dominate as the best single day one. Not surprising when you watch this video of the 2010 ride:

An Amsterdam Interlude

2011-04-12T00:14:00.007+02:00

People who know of my interest in cycling tell me constantly that I should go to Holland, which they see as some kind of two-wheeled paradise. I have, in fact, ridden there when I completed the famous Eleven City Tour of Friesland in 1999 on my birthday. This was a very enjoyable event, with some 15,000 participants riding the 230 km course and with excellent organization, but it sure was flat and half of the figure-eight course sure was windy. My attempt to register for the Amstel Gold sportif for next week failed, a course I want to ride because it is quite hilly. I love the idea of the “Limburger Alps.” Not to mention all that beer...

Bike parking at Amsterdam Zentraal station

Anyway, Amsterdam is a reasonable train ride away from Düsseldorf to make a day trip possible and on Saturday I went there with a friend to look around a bit. The only express train to the city arrives around noon, which is just too late, so getting up early we took a series of slow trains that eventually got us to Amsterdam after 3 ½ hours and four transfers. The trains were all pretty packed, suggesting that the Dutch rail system has a capacity issue, but everything ran punctually. It was fun to try and read the signs, which look slightly German but not enough to be comprehensible. From the train, we could see how narrow Dutch roads are, and all of them seemed to be bordered by very well-maintained bike lanes, including ones that were nicely illuminated, even out in the country. We saw a couple of riders on racing bicycles out enjoying the fine Spring day.

Amsterdam Zentraal station is really huge and it took a few minutes to get our bearings and find our way out after the lady at the information desk assured us, to our surprise and doubt, that we would not need a reservation on the express train going back to Germany. Leaving the station, we saw the bicycle parking area to our right and this is where I suddenly realized things are quite different here. There must have been several thousand bicycles parked in rows and rows. The bike station also offered rental bikes and repairs. There was a huge banner as well that stated emphatically that “Amsterdam Loves Bikes!”.

Our plan was to just meander through the city and make our way the 2.5 kms to the Van Gogh Museum. There were huge crowds of people, including vast numbers of foreigners, heading in roughly the same direction, so we turned down a parallel side street. I was quite interested in the fact that the roadway was wide enough for a single car and only ran in one direction, whereas the bike lane was considerably wider. It was also very heavily used and one had to take care not to step into the rush of traffic, which is generally silent. I was struck by the fact that in spite of the crowds the city was extraordinarily quiet. We were struck by something else, which I did not immediately realize: we were walking through the red-light district, which actually has red lanterns illuminating the houses where the bad women are on display. They seemed quite friendly as they waved at me, but I was not in the market for this, nor for the marijuana, whose pungent fumes came from the open doors and windows of each of the euphemistically-named “coffee shops” we passed.

"Oma-Opa fiets," aka "Granny-Grampa bikes"

There were a number of bike rental places and we found a shop that sold typical Dutch bikes. These tend to be quite solid in construction and are designed to carry things. The styles range from the “Oma-Opa fiets,” which we think of when the traditional big black (and heavy) Dutch city bike is mentioned, to bikes with big front racks to the Bakfiets, which is a cargo bicycle with a long box in front, over a small front wheel. All of the bicycles appeared to be constructed to withstand direct atomic blasts and had zero sporting pretensions. Observing them in action during the day the reason for this became obvious, as we shall see.

We soon began to cross the series of canals that are such a famous feature of Amsterdam, and many of the buildings lining them were quite marvellous. One place featured not only the usual gables but a huge globe on the roof. The Dutch had a global trade empire at one time, making this tiny nation one of the richest in the world, and the profits of the spice trade, among other things, paid for all these fine buildings. We stopped briefly to sit outside in a nice square to enjoy lunch, which was somewhat more expensive than one would pay in Germany, but the food was good and so was the opportunity to rest our legs and people-watch.

Cheeses, cheeses, cheeses...

Amsterdam attracts a huge number of tourists due to its very central location in Europe and much of the city caters to them. Along with the sex and drugs part, there were a great number of shops selling junky souvenirs and also some local products, such as rounds of cheese that probably weighed as much as an Oma fiets but which I am sure are quite delicious. We did not see a lot of the kind of shopping that would fit some kind of middle ground between t-shirts and fine arts and antiques, and there was the usual presence of multinational shops seen everywhere and which make shopping so uninteresting as local products (besides the crappy t-shirts and wooden shoes) are pushed out.

Continuing along the canals we came to the Flower Market, which offers a staggering variety of bulbs of wonderful decorative flowers, along with the inevitable Cannabis seeds (available as a “starter kit” for neophytes) and then soon found ourselves at the Van Gogh Museum, located behind the grand Rijksmuseum, which is noted for its Rembrandts.

The Van Gogh Museum is really superb. Of the 900 paintings the artist completed in his active period of only 12 years (that’s 3 paintings every two weeks, with no time off), the Museum owns 200, plus sketches, watercolours and a lot of his letters, including those two and from his brother Theo, who acted as his dealer. I am sure at the time of his early death at 37, nobody thought Van Gogh’s art would have much staying power but he was quickly appreciated as a forerunner of modern art. His paintings (along with those of Pablo Picasso) are prominent in the list of the most expensive paintings sold, which would be of some comfort to an artist who, in his troubled lifetime, managed only to sell a single painting.

One of 37 self-portaits painted by Vincent Van Gogh

The Van Gogh Museum houses some of the artist’s finest works, including “Wheatfield with Crows,” and one of the famous “Sunflower” paintings. It is a comprehensive examination of the development of the artist, who came into his own in Arles. There are other excellent paintings by the Impressionists as well, including some great Monets, a nice Renoir, a Seurat, and a marvellous Cezanne picture of Provence.

A Bakfiets cargo bicycle

Leaving the museum, we found a little bakery and bought some refreshments, enjoying them on some steps of a house facing a canal. More people-watching and this time I focused more on the bicycles and how they were used. My suspicions always were that Amsterdam is not the kind of place you would like to ride if you enjoy cycling fast, dashing up and down hills, through curves, feeling the pleasure of speed, the sensation of flying. No, Amsterdam cycling is totally utilitarian. The car has been replaced by the bicycle (along with the streetcar) as the principal beast of burden. It is unlike any other place I have seen, including Copenhagen. No horns blares, no tires squeal from braking. It is eerily quiet for a major city. Nobody wears cycling-specific clothing, nor, without exception, helmets. Bicycles transport you faster than walking but not by much. I saw the odd man wearing a suit and riding, and plenty of women smartly dressed, often wearing short skirts and fashionable boots with heels. Baskets held groceries or small dogs. One Bakfiets rolled by and we saw two blonde children asleep in the Spring sunshine in the front of the box, followed by groceries, followed by the young mother on her saddle pedalling, followed by another child sitting on a saddle behind her!

No sissy Cryptonite lock here! Check out the serious chain and padlock.

There is an occasional ringing of a bell to avoid flattening pedestrians (being hit with a loaded Bakfiets would probably be like being hit by a piano) but everyone is cycling at a very very leisurely pace. Nobody sweats. This is in spite of the weight of the bikes and the fact that every one is also carrying a massive chain and padlock that probably double the weight of the bike yet again. None of the bikes squeaked or rattled but they all looked pretty much taken for granted.

Amsterdam is twinned with Toronto but there is no similarity between them. In Amsterdam, it is clear that a conscious decision was made to develop a liveable, human-scale city whose shape is not bent to meet the demands of the automobile. It is a completely different lifestyle, reflecting the crowded conditions of the Netherlands and its lack of energy resources, but nonetheless the Dutch clearly have a very high standard of living.

When I lived in the United States, I recall that when the bicycle was suggested as a valuable addition to the transportation network, the response by doubters was generally along the lines of “Well, this isn’t Amsterdam!,” with an undertone of “This is a country of vast distances, not like that tiny place populated with gay socialist potheads.” As one Congressman huffed: "Bicycles are an 19th Century invention!". Much like, say, electricity and cars. Anyway, Amsterdam is not perfect, certainly, but perhaps it gives us an insight into how the world could look in a future where energy and land cannot be wasted and where we might all move at a more leisurely pace, bells ringing from time time.

Klassikerausfahrt 03.04. 2011

2011-04-03T16:13:00.009+02:00

Getting ready to ride
Photo courtesy of Klassikerausfahrt.de

Today I had the pleasure of joining a great group of around 20 cyclists for the monthly retro-ride in the Düsseldorf area. After yesterday's truly glorious weather, the forecast for today was not nearly as good although temperatures would still be around 12C but there there was a good chance of rain. Leaving the apartment around 10:15, it looked to me like the rain was about to fall but it was still warm enough to wear shorts and short-sleeved jersey.

My weapon of choice was my c. 1987 Chesini, which, since I bought it in October, had only been ridden around 25 kms in total. During the winter, I was helped by my friend Richard to build a new front wheel but it had yet to be tested. Just before reaching Ricci-Sports, the start location of the ride, my rear wheel suddenly pulled forward (am I that strong?) when I accelerated, bringing me to a very rapid stop. The rear wheel is somewhat out of true but I fiddled with the rear brake to get me to the shop, where I could use a flat wrench to reposition it. Otherwise the bicycle seemed very good. I noticed that getting back into the toe clips and straps was taking more practice than I recalled I needed, however!

There were some interesting bikes positioned outside the shop, including a really nice red and white Bottechia owned by Klaus of Eisenherz, who sold me the Chesini, and a lovely golden Gazelle from the Netherlands, as well as some other unusual bikes. The Chesini received some nice comments. I was just hoping on a longer ride it would perform well.

We all trooped into the shop for coffee and chocolate croissants and then it was time at 11:00 to begin the ride. Everyone was very relaxed but we quickly got into formation and headed out towards the west. This took a while as there are a lot of stoplights in central Düsseldorf (and every time we stopped I had to fumble around a bit to get my foot back in when we started rolling) but eventually we crossed the Rhine and were out of town.

Enroute: oldies but goodies
Photo courtesy of Klassikerausfahrt.de

The ride was quite flat but very enjoyable. I took the opportunity to ride alongside a number of the other participants as the traffic was not too bad. We passed through farmland and near some industrial areas and occasionally saw other cyclists. Everyone was good about keeping a lookout for road hazards. Just over 2 hours later we returned to Ricci-Sports for coffee and cake, this being the fine German tradition, having covered just over 50 kms. As we all prepared to leave, the rain began, so the timing was perfect.

After I had adjusted the brakes, the Chesini performed beautifully and by the end of the ride I was having less trouble getting into the clips and straps. I really need to work on this for l'Eroica in October as the Peugeot I will be taking also has toe clips and straps. This is one area (clipless pedals) where there has been real progress over the years!

L t R: Chesini, Gazelle, Gitane

The Klassikerausfahrt retro-ride is scheduled for each month and the next ride will be on Sunday, May 1. Useful information about the rides is posted here.

Of course, after this enjoyable start to the day, I returned home in time to open a bottle of Alt-Bier, make some popcorn, turn on the television and watch the last part of one of the best Tour of Flanders I can recall.

1957 BBC Report on Pasta

2011-04-01T15:45:00.010+02:00

Pasta has been the traditional fuel of cyclists since before Fausto was a baby. On this day fifty-four years ago, the BBC issued one of its most famous news reports about pasta in Italy and you can enjoy that celebrated short program here. With Spring around the corner in the Northern Hemisphere, visions of delicious spaghetti will make those training rides all that much more enjoyable. So ride fast but only twist a fork at the table. Tutto bene, tutto bello!

Photo: "Spaghetti," by andreasnilsson1976

Creative Commons

A Tin Donkey Milestone

2011-03-29T18:17:00.004+02:00

I began to write this blog with the first postings on February 17, 2007. Today, just over four years and 423 postings later, my counter indicated that the blog has now received 100,000 hits.

Considering that it was meant to be a modest electronic diary to let me comment about trips and things two-wheeled of interest to me, and to entertain friends and let them know what I have been doing, the response has been great. I want to thank all those new friends for tuning in--hooray for you and for cycling!

Lost Boys Tour of Europe 2010: The Giant of Provence

2011-03-24T16:04:00.008+01:00

June 23, 2010

Chill Week was never meant to be a totally-relaxed-sit-by-the-pool kind of holiday, but if ever there was an anti-Chill event, it is a ride up the legendary Mont Ventoux. For many years I had wanted to cycle this climb, one of the icons of the Tour de France. I knew of the great racers who had fought their way up this extinct volcano, rising above the plains of Provence. It was here that Ferdy Kűbler, the mighty Swiss champion and Tour de France winner, completely blew apart, and quit his professional racing career; where Eros Poli, a huge Italian domestique who looked like he would have had trouble climbing a highway overpass, rode away from the peloton and was never reeled in; where Lance Armstrong and Marco Pantani clashed; where only last year Alberto Contador climbed as if on a Sunday outing with the Schleck brothers. And, of course, it was here where former World Champion Tommy Simpson of Great Britain fell on a hot July day in 1967, never to rise again.

As our gite was near Carcassonne in Languedoc-Rousillion, it was never going to be the easiest matter to arrange the logistics to get eleven people and bicycles to Bédoin, the traditional departure town for the “hard” side of Mont Ventoux. In addition to two passenger vans, we rented a small cargo van and carefully loaded it to the gills with our bikes. I had first calculated the drive to be somewhat over three hours, but with pastry stops, bathroom breaks and getting somewhat lost in Orange, it was closer to four and a half hours by the time we rolled into Bédoin, in perfect sunshine and low wind conditions. Coming off of the autoroute, we had a clear view of the looming Mont Ventoux and could easily see the weather observatory at the top that was our goal today. Parking our convoy in a big field outside of the village, we put the bikes together, got a group photo, and, around 12:45, rolled out.

Clearly many others felt the way we did about Ventoux, as Bédoin was abuzz with cyclists, many of whom had clearly already finished their ride and were keeping the cafés going. We quickly sped out of town and the climb began as we rode up the D974. I tried to keep my spinning as smooth as possible, concerned that if I pushed too hard and got cramps in my abductors it would be the end of my ride. Things went well but the smooth spinning soon enough turned to slow grinding as my RPMs dropped and dropped down to 45-50 instead of the usual 70 or so. The road was relentless as it took us through dense wood, with no flat recovery places. The heat was also becoming difficult and I soon followed the example of many of the European riders and took off my helmet for the climb. At one point, one of our group asked how far we had to go, and a Dutch comedian riding by said: “Just one more kilometer ,” which was funny because it was obviously untrue.

I had only taken off my helmet on a ride once before, on the Albula Pass in Switzerland, but it was definitely cooler. Our group was spread all over the mountain, and I took some photos en route, catching up with Dr. Chef and with TriMolly, who was actually riding the climb on her P2C time trial bike.

A brief break at the Chalet Reynard restaurant for some canned ice tea was welcome relief, and we were now above the tree line. I felt refreshed and actually was able to increase my speed for the second part of the climb, the famous stone landscape of the upper reaches of Ventoux. I passed a rider on a red Trek who was wearing toe straps and who looked quite miserable and felt quite zippy. The road was not as steep as through the woods and offered fantastic vistas below. I stopped to photograph Dr. Chef and get in some of the famous striped poles that are used to guide snowploughs. And I soon passed the red Trek rider again.

Although I was sore and tired and hot, I was enjoying the ride immensely. The weather tower was getting closer all the time and soon I reached the point, on the right side of the road, where Tommy Simpson, full of amphetamines and cognac and burning up in the intense heat, collapsed on the road. Famously demanding to be put back on the bike, he wobbled a few feet further before collapsing again, then succumbing in the helicopter on the flight to the hospital. A monument to Simpson has been erected on the spot and on the steps are offerings from cyclists—small mementos, a bottle of English beer, a plaque from a Belgian cycling club. When the Tour passed this way again in 2007, the 40th anniversary of Simpson's death was marked in a low-key fashion. It is part of the Tour de France's mixed legacy: perseverance against the elements (it was surprising to me how close Simpson got to the top of Ventoux), mixed with the dark side of drug use and cheating.

Only three more turns and the last bitter steep climb took me to the foot of the observation tower and the hordes of visitors. I felt a real sense of accomplishment as I joined the other Lost Boys. Some photos were taken, including some by an enthusiastic Frenchman who had seen me climbing below and was very excited that I had actually made it to the top. Then on to business: the purchase of a miniature Mont Ventoux milestone, and on with the armwarmers and off down the other side of the mountain. I was joined by Greg, Terry and TriMolly as the others elected to return to Bédoin the way we had come up.

The descent towards Malucene is wonderful. It started off very twisty and steep and then opened out to wide curves as we accelerated. I am a perhaps over-cautious descender and I was using the brakes a great deal but I was still hitting speeds of 65 km/h as we rocketed onwards. Traffic was light, and when it appeared the drivers gave us plenty of room.

After plunging downhill for 14 kms, we reached Malucene and began the final 12 kms towards Bédoin to complete our big loop. The road rose and fell (aargh: more climbing ) and passed through gorgeous landscapes and past orchards of cherry trees ripe with red fruit. I even took a photo of Terry at the Col de la Madelaine which, at 448 m ASL, is not the famous one The final descent, under the shading boughs of roadside tress and smelling of sun and pine, was lovely as we dropped into Bédoin, the last of the group to return for a well-earned beer and some food, and the chance to watch Team USA defeat Algeria in World Cup action.

The ride back was long but not eventful. Unless you count our going the wrong way for 15 kms on the A7, or our attempt to drive a French highway interchange. Going from the A7 to the A9 in Orange requires getting off the highway, paying the toll, and then going around a traffic circle, getting another toll card and getting back on the highway, one of the stupidest arrangements in traffic engineering I have ever seen. But after driving in light traffic past many famous southern French cities (Montpellier, Nimes, Bexiers, Narbonne), we reached the right exit and drove the lovely, and empty, D135 from Trebes to Laure-Minervois and the gite. Mission accomplished.

Well, perhaps not entirely. Van No. 3 made it back to Laure-Minervois eventually, but Van No. 2 went on a rather lengthy excursion as the occupants seemed determined to discover parts of France not on our itinerary, ending up in an industrial park outside of Marseilles. Thanks to some helpful, and voluble, Algerians at a kebab shop they eventually ended up back on track and somehow managed to return to Laure-Minervois by 1:30 am, making for an exceptionally long day but providing some entertaining stories.

The Mont Ventoux ride distance was 55 kms in all, with 1900 m of climbing. Of that, 1600 m were in the first 22 kms, a truly relentless climb. Check out the crazy profile below. I feel like Eros Poli...

55.53 km | round trip
Altitude range: 1,600 Meter (300 Meter to 1,900 Meter)
Total climb: 1,951 Meter Total descent: 1,931 Meter

Lost Boys Tour of Europe 2010: Cruising to Corbières

2011-03-24T14:33:00.009+01:00

If you want wine, this is the place...
June 22, 2010

Another beautiful day in Languedoc-Roussillon and it was time to try riding in a new direction. The insistent wind out of the north seemed to have finally lessened somewhat so we decided to take a ride southwards, knowing that a headwind would face us on the return. Not ideal, but the route looked promising. It would be another fine day of sunshine, vineyards, quiet roads and rolling hills and postcard-view vistas.

Climbing towards Corbieres
Most of our group rode the first 20 or so kilometers from Laure-Minervois along the D57 through Aigues-Vives and Marseillette to Capendu, but we split up here, near the famous Canal du Midi, with some riders going west towards Trebes and then northeast to our start but three other brave souls joined me as we pushed further south into Corbières, continuing on the D57 as it climbed over a high ridge and then took us down into Montlaur. The climb was at a reasonable grade but gave fine views in all directions and the descent was enjoyble.

From Montlaur, we struck out eastwards along the D114, a tiny road that brought us to yet another of the region's gorges. The wind was blowing hard here and particularly so as we left the gorge and ran into a mini-hurricane for a moment, probably a wind tunnel effect. Our continuing downhill ride brought us to Camplong d'Aude, surrounded like so many towns here by vineyards, and we turned right to get on the D212, which had recent chip-and-seal repaving done but was fine to ride on. I had been a bit concerned as the road was marked in yellow on the map and I prefer the lighter-travelled white roads, but the D212 was almost completely devoid of traffic this Wednesday midday so we raced, albeit with some climbing, through Ribaute and on to Lagrasse.
Much like Minerve, Lagrasse is a compact town distinguished by arched bridges. It boasted cobbled and extremely narrow streets in the centre of town, and a small commercial section on the main road, where we found a snack bar and had some sandwiches and where some of us also enjoyed my favourite ice cream treat, the Magnum bar. We enjoyed our lunch, sitting in the shade and watching the traffic, which included an old MGB and an older green-and-cream Austin-Healey 3000 sports car.

The big sprint finish

Deciding that the yellow roads would be fine, we changed our ride plan slightly and switched to the not-very-busy D3 out of Lagrasse, riding another beautiful scenic road albeit it into a rather stiff headwind. Greg quickly overtook a mountain biker, who latched onto his rear wheel, and we soon we able to catch up and pass the mountain biker as well. The wind was a bit tiring and we were all happy to see the small road that would lead us directly back to Montlaur and a retracing of our route back over the ridge and down to Capendu. We had hoped to find a café for a post-ride celebratory espresso, or stop in at the pastry shop in Aigues-Vives for something, but everything was closed, so we finished our day cruising back to the gite.

81.59 km | round trip
Altitude range: 261 Meter (59 Meter to 320 Meter)
Total climb: 855 Meter Total descent: 855 Meter