105.8 km, 1288 m vertical, average 16.3 kph, maximum 54
From the map I guessed it would be about 120 to 130 km to Würzburg. At breakfast, Madame said 100 km. Turned out she was right, according to the Autobahn signpost; I was right, too, as measured out on the side roads. Bundesstraße 27 looked like my route for the day – but at Fulda, no bikes are allowed. Messed around on the side roads, hard to navigate since the road signs identify secondary towns not on my low-resolution map. Nice sunny day – I thought this might be the best weather of the trip, but it clouded over and stayed chilly enough that I wore the jacket all day. On the positive side: it didn’t rain.
I thought my sore leg might be a lot better today and I could do a longer or faster ride. But today had over three times the elevation gain of the previous two, and even though I used my lowest granny gear, the leg was pretty unhappy.
Started out with a steep climb to a crest whose sign says we’re now in the Rhein watershed. Then mountains and forest – from one stream valley to the next, one or two hundred meters of climb each time. The area is called the Rhön, Hessische first, then Bayerische, and becoming the Spessart. Would have been a hard enough day under the best of conditions. Worth it, though: truly beautiful country.
I didn’t notice the border, but Motten is in Bavaria: a Brauerei (Will Bräu), blue and white everywhere, murals on the buildings, shrines along the road, and even the first onion-dome church I’ve seen. And people say, “Grüß Gott!”
Bad Brückenau is, from its name, a tourist town, a spa. Badly in need of modernization, not a destination to be recommended. By the time I reached Hammelburg, I was ready to call it quits for the day. But no passenger trains serve the place – I had to ride to Karlstadt, another 25 km. Fortunately, you come abruptly out of the mountains, and though the country is certainly not flat, the hills are much less extreme.
Met a farm tractor along the road. Metal letters on the bonnet Porsche Diesel. Who would have thought?
This open country is also pretty, river valley, long views. Thought I might just go ahead and ride all the way, but the leg vetoed the idea. On the bluffs over Karlstadt is the ruined castle Karlburg. Under other circumstances it might have been interesting to visit. Today, I just went and got a train ticket.
The train came in; there was no baggage area. The guard waved me to the back of the train. While I stood there expecting him to come direct operations, he blew the whistle, closed the doors, and left. Today’s lesson: get on the damn train! Fortunately there was another train ten minutes later.
The Main valley is full of vineyards, the vines all decked out in autumn colours. They grow as far up the hillsides as the grades will permit, and frequently the natural limestone bluffs have been augmented with brick or stone terracing.
Ok, here we are at Würzburg. Separate panniers are also a big help when there are no ramps to the platforms and you have to carry the bike up or down steps. When I’m walking, I try to keep the bike as far right as I can, to create as little disturbance as possible. But twice, at and near the Bahnhof, a blind pedestrian almost ran me over – they use the same strategy, staying near the walls. Wonder if there’s a school for the blind here.
The TI is at the Bahnhofplatz. Got a map and a hotel listing. Picked one, tried to find it – two major roads, heavy traffic, pedestrian underpass, no apparent way for a bicycle to ever get across! Picked another hotel from the list. I’d like something outside the center city – better value, probably quieter – but close enough to walk in.
The TI map was damn near useless. Hunted the place for almost an hour. In the process I developed a mental map of the town, finally succeeded in using my mental map to find the hotel. Turned out to be fine, another modern hotel, bath in the room, bike stowed safely in the cellar. Impersonal, no one-on-one relationships here.
Already dark – I turned on my belt pack flasher for the last fifteen minutes of the hotel hunt – so there’s no reason to go out immediately. Shower first (they had soap!), a change of clothes, then out. Ok, what do we know about Würzburg? Well, it’s in lower Franconia (part of Bavaria, but no blue-and-white here). People still say, “Grüß Gott.” There are a lot of US servicemen here. Röntgen discovered X-rays here! And Heisenberg was from here, he of the uncertainty principle.
There’s a Dom, large but not pretty. There’s a Marienkapelle. Next to it is the Haus zum Fachen, elaborately decorated.
I was looking for a restaurant, finally found a Chinese place near the Bahnhof. It was ok, not great. Then down to the river for a look at Fortress Marienburg. The hills above the river come right out of fairy tales. By night, the fortress hangs in space above the town; near it is a church just called Käppele, and down the way is yet another Schloß or church or something.
Called Jacky from a phone booth. She wasn’t yet home: I left a message on the machine. Discovered that phone booths don’t make change. I guess US phone booths don’t either – it’s getting to the point where you expect a certain amount of intelligence in coin machines. Pretty expensive if you start off with a 5-mark coin.
96.8 km, 772 m vertical, average 18.1 kph, maximum 51
What an outstanding day! The first really mostly-sunny day of the tour (I shouldn’t complain: it could have rained all day every day). The hotel had buffet breakfast, so I could avoid the meat and cheese. But they didn’t have much of a Vollkorn selection – found some heavy dark bread, ate several slices.
I wanted to start out along the Main; Majk had recommended this valley, and I certainly enjoyed what I saw from the train yesterday. Assumed there would be a bike trail along the river, and there was. Got a daylight picture of Marienburg that also shows the way the vineyards are planted.
The valley is outstandingly beautiful. River on one side, hills on both sides. One river barge – nothing like the traffic you see on the Rhein. Cool and sunny, and all is right with the world.
At Ochsenfurt [there’s also a Schweinfurt – couldn’t they take all their animals across at the same place? – and then the Franks themselves needed yet another crossing!] I needed to leave the Main. A pretty town, Ochsenfurt, full of towers.
Took the jacket off, put the sunglasses on – first time this trip. Steep climb out of the Main valley. Even though there’s no pain this early in the day, I’m gearing ’way down for all the uphills. The name of the game is endurance, not power.
Flat, open country south of the Main. More sugar beets, and roots that look like giant sweet potatoes. Farmers busy everywhere, harvesting the old, plowing fields in preparation for the new. In some of these little towns, every vehicle you see is a tractor. Smells of the country, some of them pleasant.
I had already decided not to literally follow the Romantische Straße, which begins at Würzburg, but goes well out of the way to the west. I had the choice at Oberickelsheim to continue to Ansbach, a shorter route compatible with taking the train again, or heading for Rothenburg ob der Tauber, where I could join the Romantische Straße. Felt good, no pain from the leg, so I went south.
Glad I went to Rothenburg. What a great old city, built on bluffs high above the Tauber valley. You could have a great holiday right here.
Old city walls still intact. Gates, towers, stone-paved streets crowded with visitors. |
Wandered through the town. I liked the American woman climbing down from the horse-drawn carriage, thanking the person next to her for having translated the driver’s remarks. Didn’t see a good lunch spot, so I waited until I got out of town to eat. Although I felt no pain before Rothenburg, the leg hurt when I got back on the bike. Geared all the way down for the climb out of the Tauber valley. The muscle loosened up and was okay again, at least for a while. |
Should I just catch a train? Well, no. There’s nowhere special I need to be tonight; it’s mostly sunny and there’s even a tailwind (and surely it’s a mortal sin to waste a tailwind). Why not just go on until I’m ready to stop, spend tomorrow afternoon on the train if necessary?
The next town recommended by the map was Feuchtwangen. It was pretty enough, had a couple of restaurants where I could have been happy. I looked for a Zimmer Frei sign, didn’t see one. These Zimmer are not only a lot better value than hotels, but they’re also a lot more interesting. You just need to be willing to stay outside the cities.
Dinkelsbühl isn’t far – that’s about all I better ask the leg for today – and I’ll stay in a hotel there if necessary. As to staying in the cities, that isn’t really necessary. As long as there’s a place to eat, the country is fine. The main road doesn’t seem to go past many residences that might have Zimmer – I should probably try the side roads.
So I wasn’t at all unhappy when the Romantische Straße cycle route signs pointed me off into the hinterlands. And yes, there were Zimmer signs in these tiny villages. The sign I couldn’t resist was the one with the bicycle symbol, encouraging me to come on as far as the Mühle at Larrieden. So I did.
This is a working farm on the Wörnitz, a wildly meandering little stream. No sign of a mill here now. Familie Schätzel normally offers Ferienwohnungen, not overnight stays, but since the season was over, the place was completely empty, and it was an easy DM 40 for them. Why not?
Over the barn, I got a spacious room, kitchenette, bath, balcony. Clean and modern; I think I died and went to heaven. There’s a root cellar where cool beer, mineral water and fruit juice are there for the taking (and paying, of course).
And getting here at 2:30 gives me time for daylight exploration. Quickly changed clothes, went out for a walk. Followed the Wörnitz upstream, starting on a path, then across the fields when the path disappeared. Walked two kilometers to Tribur, the next little village. Crossed at a little bridge, came back to Larrieden. What a beautiful place!
Larrieder Mühle, in context
Frau Schätzel had phoned the Gasthaus in the village; they said I could come in and eat as early as 3:30. Good idea, with darkness at 6. But Frau S didn’t tell me there were two Gasthäuser in the Dorf.
So I flipped a mental coin, chose one of them. Went in; the door to the pub area was closed, but I could hear voices inside. Went in.
Three guys sitting around the Stammtisch. One of them stuck his nose into the kitchen and summoned Madame the proprietor. She was surprised that someone would want to eat, at all, much less want to eat here. Cold menu, maybe some goulasch soup. Clearly I’m in the wrong Gasthaus, but since I’m here and they're willing… Ordered goulasch soup.
Started to sit down across the room, but the old guy, senior member at the Stammtisch, called me over to sit with them. There was no ashtray on the table, so I sat down. Of course, this was because they wanted to quiz me, the stranger in town. That was fine – I certainly never expected to sit at a Stammtisch in Deutschland!
Explained as best I could, who I was, where I was coming from and going and how long and how far and everything else I could figure out how to say. They helped with the rough spots on my Deutsch. Then they went on with their discussion, a dialect that I mostly couldn’t understand.
When the food came, they all wished me, “Guten Appetit!” I ordered a Weißbier; when it came, I offered a “Pros’t!” around the table. I think they appreciated my understanding of some of the little cultural details.
The soup was good, but inadequate. Asked for some bread and ham, somewhat to the amusement of my colleagues. This is German ham: dark red, sliced thin, spread over the whole wooden cutting board they served it on. Covered with a pickle and a few slices of bell pepper. Bread? Oh, yes – there it is, buried sadly under the pile. So I ate it with knife and fork.
Two of the guys had to go, the third guy, the senior member, paid his bill, too. I finished, paid my bill, and as I left, thanked him sincerely for the invitation to join them. A real adventure.
As I returned to my room, I came past the barn. Four bovine heads turned in unison as I came into view, and in melodious four-part harmony, the cows greeted me as if I were a long-lost hiking companion from Switzerland. Sure is easy to make friends around here.
Ok, one more adventure for the day: I need a shower, and there’s no soap. But there’s dishwasher soap in the kitchen. Can I bathe with that? Hmm… the fine print says it’s pH neutral, dermatologist tested – just watch! (or don’t, as you prefer).
Worked fine. And now I smell citron-fresh!
I’m now in the Donau watershed. What a great day!