And Down the Other side

Halfway or a bit more up a f…….g mountain  -  Schwatz (nr. Innsbruck)  71.5 kms    749’ascent.

Our emergency accommodation provided for all our needs except that we felt thoroughly unwelcome. We were the only residents and we ate our breakfast under the ever watchful eye of the waiter/ manager and a ceiling camera. Much indigestion followed! This constant observation continued until we had retrieved our bikes and trailers from the garage and started to load up. As the garage door closed, I could hear the Rottweiler growling behind the door. There was a camera here too. Having got used to the Austrian ‘open door’ policy, this behaviour was altogether unnerving. On the positive side, we were dry, rested and fed. We are still speculating about iffy activities going on.

It was with some relief that we hit the road and managed to ride at least until we were out of sight of the guest house! Last night’s storm had passed and left behind a residual drizzle. After a bit less than an hour of riding/walking we reached the summit. Hoorah. The upside of all that climbing was a downhill that seemed go on forever. In view of the wet roads it was unwise (or it was for me) to really let rip, but nonetheless it was great fun to be moving almost as fast as the traffic.

Once we reached the valley floor, the speed decreased but the ride was still gently downhill until we reached the river Inn. I assumed this flowed towards Innsbruck from where we joined it but my geography was all to pot and we were following it upstream. Up/down, it was still a comfortable ride in the sunshine which had gradually re-established itself. As an additional bonus, Alan had located a cycle track which has, so far, been well signposted. We have our fingers crossed that it may remain so, for tomorrow we/ Alan must locate the best route to the base of the Brenner Pass! If all goes well and, barring thunder storms, we could find ourselves in Italy tomorrow. Maybe?!

Halfway Up

Piesendorf  -  halfway up the f……….ing mountain.        53.8 kms    2042’ ascent.

The weatherman said it would rain and thunder maybe! Did we believe him – no. Mmm, just sometimes they get it right. 

It was a morning of glorious sunshine as we left the hostel with some trepidation as to what was to come. However, before all that we had many kilometres of fairly flat countryside surrounded by the high mountains now covered in snow on the summits. It was hot but with a slight breeze; it was thoroughly enjoyable riding, if just a little tainted with the prospect of this huge hill which got huger all the time in my fertile imagination. After a little over 40kilometres, we took advantage of the shade offered by the railway platform to eat lunch and muse over the climb which was now just about to begin. Well nourished and hydrated (it was still very hot) we sallied forth. After two and a half kilometres we passed through Krimmer which appeared to contain nothing except a series of car parks. It transpired that the occupants of the parked vehicles were off visiting some awesome waterfalls. Not for us. We pedalled on. As the road grew quieter, so the slope got steeper. It was now a combination for us of ride/walk as Herman and Sherman took their toll. In surprisingly good spirits, we had completed about half the height when our friends, of the grey cloud variety, began to amass. (All the fault of those weather men!) Thunder cracked and we found ourselves pelted with rain drops the size of marbles. No shelter except trees, and we all know what happens when one shelters under trees – you get wet twice. Ah ha, but we huddled under a karrimat.  Not a great success, as within five minutes we were soaked through to undies. Looming out of the mist was a sign for a café and hostel just 200 metres further on. (That someone is still looking after us). Not the warmest of welcomes for a very wet granny but nonetheless a room was acquired. Just as well, as the storm continued for well over four hours! Yes. We know we are getting soft, but the thought of trying to pitch a tent, assuming there was a spot to pitch it on, and then crawling into wet clothing in the morning, has lost its appeal. So tomorrow we have the rest of the hill to climb. It means we are a bit behind schedule but Alan assures me that when we reach the summit the downhill goes on for miles! We’ll see.

Tourist Office Trumps

Werfen  -  Piesendorf    64.3          959’ ascent.

This was a beautiful day. The weather was glorious and the riding not too demanding. We followed the river for much of the time, as this constituted a significantly more reliable reference point than any of the very haphazard signposts. We were by no means the only couple confused by the green cycle signs, as we watched, with some amusement, many other cyclists who appeared equally as confused as we were. For us, the general consensus was ‘follow your nose’ and hope. This was successful up to a point. However after following green signs which seemed to visit the local farms and not much else, we resorted to the road. Winding around the hillsides maybe great fun if you are out for a day’s ride, but after fifty plus days and more than 4000 kms a more sympathetic route is required. Arriving very hot and sweaty in Piesendorf, the tourist office came up trumps and found us a bike friendly pension, which didn’t mind welcoming two sweaty and smelly cyclists. (Our experience with Tourist offices is that they are excellent at procuring accommodation but anything useful like maps or cycle route information is conspicuously absent.)

During the evening meal, Alan told me, as gently as possible, what was in store for tomorrow. That he had actually pondered over whether to tell me or not shows a remarkable level of concern. I was to expect a very long and steep climb; over 1000metres in five kilometres! I am glad that he told me, I think!?

Into the Big Stuff

Thurgau – Werfen     70kms              1199’ascent (all in the afternoon)

We didn’t get off to the best of starts this morning as the machine in the gasthaus would accept neither of our debit or credit cards. It was not a real problem but one that always results in a level of angst. In retrospect, I have a suspicion that the error was deliberate and intended to ensure that we paid cash and thereby circumnavigated the tax inspector! It did seem to be a ploy as, within less than two hours, both cards were functioning as normal.

Anyway, enough domestics. We set off on quite a cold  morning in vaguely the right direction and chanced upon the signs for the cycle route into Salzburg. These were easy to follow and we set off at some pace – only ‘cos it was downhill. As we reached the outskirts of the city, the route divided and Mr. Master Navigator was called upon for his expertise. Right, as ever, we located the river and then the centre of the city. We still needed maps! Once again the information centre provided nothing but did point out a bookshop, which did have something. While I ran around the busy streets of Salzburg, Alan stood guard over the bikes. It was at least an hour before I returned, during which time he had watched the same horse drawn carriage pass by three times! Such entertainment.

Eventually, maps in hand, we bowled off again along the river bank. We enjoyed our lunch on the banks looking up into the really big mountains. Then, after another ten kilometres or so, our cycle route disappeared. Now Mr. Master Navigator was going to have to earn his keep. Mmmm……. It was a bit up hill and down dale but nonetheless always in the right direction. Still close to the river for a while, we spied a group of youngsters surfing the waves on the river- very skilfully. (See photo)

We now found ourselves on the main road and suddenly we were channelled into a spectacular gorge. No more gentle meadow, this was dark and deep and with tunnels. It was the Austria of the high mountains and castles. Needless to say, it was also accompanied by quite a lot of climbing. Just for once though, the whizzy wind was behind us providing much needed assistance up the hills. This is the Austria we love although it might be a tad tainted after tomorrow’s uphills. Who knows?                     

Then It's a Beautiful Day

Schwanenstadt  -  Thurgau     67.2 kms     695’ ascent

We did decide to take yesterday as a non-riding day. Weather was rubbish and we had peace and quiet to service the bikes and trailers, find some maps and chill for a while. So today started early and we were breakfasting before eight. Not the most exciting of breakfasts but nourishing, unlike the four gentlemen who arrived for their morning wine and beer! We left the town to the loud and almost continual jangling of church bells. Not sure if it was all the same church or a competition between several. Absolutely no chance of a Sunday lay-in.

We set off in intermittent sunshine, along a fairly main road, but it being Sunday, traffic was relatively light. It has to be said, this was not a pretty route, lined as it was, with shopping complexes, the railway line and large factories with chimneys belching forth smoke. Finally, we found our cycle route and for some ten kilometres we followed the signs until they pointed in opposite directions! Scratching our heads and perusing the map, we were approached by a man in a car who rolled down the window to offer assistance. Our ‘We only speak English’ was met with ‘That’s fine. I have worked in Wrexham.’ Not only that, but he put us on the right path. 

A path which led us to a countryside in direct contrast with the one we had so recently been through. In a trice, we were riding alongside an aquamarine lake surrounded by mountains, some with their peaks hidden by the clouds. This was obviously a playground for the rich; boats on the water, another millionaires’ row, Ferraris and Porches abounding. Mind you, they had to queue up behind two bikes with trailers the same as everybody else when the road narrowed, which it did frequently. Sadly much of the actual lakeside was out of bounds as every piece of land was ‘verboten’ to joe public. We did eventually find a spot which was not ‘verboten’ and sat down to enjoy our lunch. For no apparent reason, the water in front of us began to bubble and we fearing, at the very least, a deadly man eating monster, were relieved to watch several divers surface and fall around under the weight of all their clobber.

Having enjoyed one lake, we greedily moved on to the next. Alongside this one had to be the coolest cycle track in Austria, if not Europe as it sported a tunnel just for use by bikes! It was long and lit with little off-shoots to the lakeside. We were well impressed.

Having left behind the water, and with the sun now dominating the sky, we meandered our way through truly Alpine meadow accompanied by the wholesome odour of cow and grass. Tomorrow we must negotiate Salzberg! Another challenge for Mr. Master Navigator.

The Italian Job

Mauthausen  -  Schwanenstadt      85.7kms        451’ ascent

Remarkably, we have dried out and, after discovering what we were doing, our landlady became positively effusive and insisted on our making an entry into her guest book.

We found ourselves sharing the breakfast lounge with another couple, the male half of whom hailed from Newcastle! (Just can’t get away from these Geordies, although he did have the good grace to support Everton!). We enjoyed a long conversation with the pair of them and discovered, amongst many other things that they now lived in Switzerland, he was a musician and she was a teacher of English.

Leaving a little later than planned, we did a quick shop for the day’s supplies and then came the hard part. Finding our way to the right place with only the map Alan had ‘borrowed’ from the last b&b. This was no mean feat and a lesser man than Mr. Master Navigator may well have thrown his toys out of the pram but not our man. After much head scratching, communing with the GPS, and swearing, some twenty kilometres later, we were on our chosen route. Much relieved, we set off with renewed confidence along a well signposted, and well surfaced route towards Saltzberg. The riding was relatively undemanding, although Alan had omitted to mention that, although we were following a river, it was upriver! After some fifty kilometres of slight, but incessant climbing we hit a gravel track. Simultaneously, the clouds started to gather with an ominous deep grey hue. The wind velocity increased and we readied ourselves for a second drenching in 24 hours. We were quite successfully outrunning the rain when our path was a ‘no go’ with big red crosses through the sign. Now, at more than 75 kms, and threatened with an imminent soaking, we headed for the nearest town and, hopefully, somewhere to stay. In the process, we met two tandem riders, one of whom was blind, who found themselves in the same predicament. We approached a passing couple with a request for information on a guesthouse. They were local, but unsure of what was available, and generously offered to give us a lift to find somewhere. An offer we declined but appreciated. Up the hill into town where a full blown Italian market had been installed in the main street! There seemed little evidence of a guest house and we had resigned ourselves to a soaking and more riding, when one appeared on the horizon. ‘A room?’ ‘No problem.’ Ten minutes after installing ourselves and the bikes under cover, it tonked down. Lucky or what! We even like Italian food. Might stay here for our rest day. We’ll see what the morrow brings.

Rain Stops Play

Willowitz  -  Mauthausen  (Nr. Linz)      70.5 kms         1608’ ascent

 It was with a sense of relief that, when I received the bill from our hostess, I did not find myself in the embarrassing position of having insufficient funds to meet it. I even had 10 euros left over. She waved us off as we turned left and on into Austria. What a welcome we have received! Our turning left took us up a three kilometre climb, fairly steady it has to be said, but with early morning sluggish legs it was a real wake up call. Our overriding need for money, food and maps was sufficient encouragement to reach the next village. Here, we succeeded with our first two requirements but the information office, as we have often found, had no relevant information, let alone maps. However, Alan had found two copies of the cycle route maps in the guest house, taken one and left, in its place, all the maps we no longer needed. Clever fellow at times. He has mused today over his affinity for Austria. A clue might just be that everything is neat and tidy; fields are bordered by straight lines, the roads have defined edges, the houses have symmetrical flower boxes on the windowsills and even the trees stand straight! I think all that might just be a clue.

As we rode through these sunny, tidy fields, the storm clouds began to gather in some strength. As usual, we were a bit slow to react and, as the thunder and lightning moved closer we were still out in the open. Then all hell broke loose as the rain and hail hurtled earthwards. Once we were soaking wet, we finally found shelter in a petrol station. The last time we had seen a storm of this ferocity was on my first trip, and Alan’s second, to (guess where) Austria, when we were camping in a mountain tent inside another frame tent and frantically digging trenches with ice axes to direct the flood water away from the canvas. This time we were ushered into the service station by a concerned owner who was worried about the proximity of the lightning to the fuel!

 After about 30 minutes the velocity of rain diminished sufficiently for the proprietor to wash his fork lift and for us to take to the road; it was still pi………..ing down! We downed a Red Bull each and have sworn never to do so again as it produced the most bizarre results – Alan couldn’t stop shaking and I just spaced out! Will stick to lemonade or beer. Now very wet and with rather suspect brakes, we now found ourselves going downhill………..downhill and more downhill for some 15 kilometres! What a chortle. At the bottom, the rain stopped (well actually it hadn’t been raining) and we began to blow dry our clothes.

Now seemed like a good time to find a stopover. We tried. The first was shut for the holidays, the second required a telephone call to ask for a key, the third (at the top of a huge hill) was shut and derelict and the fourth was full.  Never mind, we soldiered on and found a very adequate b&b and are in the process of drying out. Welcome to Austria!

4000

Hluboka nad Vltavon  -  Willowitz    69.3 kms      1641’ ascent.

Well, what a day! We passed our 4000kilometres and crossed into Austria and all before breakfast: well, not really.  Can’t do anything too taxing  before we have recharged batteries with a hearty breakfast. Nonetheless, it has been a very positive day and even the weather was inclined to celebrate.  The forecast rain was notably absent and instead, we enjoyed warm sunshine.  The first 15kms ran along almost flat country with excellent signing (we didn’t get lost once.) Didn’t last though. Shortly before we reached the inevitable hills, we met again the Dutch couple who had shared the hostel with us in Borotin. Like us, they had found the steep hills of the previous day a real challenge and were less than optimistic about reaching Austria today.

Despite Mr. Master Navigators best efforts, we still went up/down, up/down………hot/cold, hot/cold……… The last 14 kilometres were necessarily along the main highway and, if we thought this would be any flatter, we were WRONG. The biggest ‘up’ was 12% - again, but made even more exciting by the roar of lorries rushing up our bums. Lounging in the laybys we saw an eclectic mix of prostitutes. The best offer Alan got was a half- hearted wave from a very pretty young lady. She probably decided he couldn’t afford her fee! Or maybe it was the smell emanating from his feet!

It had been our intention to spend this last night in the Czech Republic in a border town and use up the Kronor we had left. Not a chance. The suspect morality theme was even more evident in this unwholesome little town. Every ‘hotel’ was a club or a casino (it really was very, very seedy indeed). Feeling very uncomfortable, we rapidly made the decision to continue over the border, despite having no maps and very few euros. Fortunately, within a couple of kilometres, a guest house hove into view.  Having garnered together our pathetic collection of euros, we hoped we had enough of them to buy a night’s accommodation and a couple of beers. We did – just. After one beer, I felt quite squiffy and realised that the stuff we had been downing in the Czech Republic had about as much potency as orange squash!  As ever, our best laid plans had gone tits up. Actually, plans are becoming ever more flexible.  Quite a departure for Mr. Organised.

Dumplings

Borotin – Hluboka nad Vltavou     75.5 kms         1968’ ascent

Breakfast, this morning was another bit of pantomime while we tried to convey what we would like to drink. Our fellow guests were Dutch (who can always speak other languages) and they knew that the Czech for tea was chi (ironically the same as in India). They wanted chi and we wanted coffee. Somehow I ended up with raspberry tea! Ugh! Alan, however, pointed at the coffee jar and enjoyed a cup of coffee. Despite these difficulties of language, our hosts were delightful and always eager to please. I used Alan’s trick of pointing and succeeded in getting the flask filled with coffee.

Bikes loaded, we pedalled just over a kilometre before we had to partially unload to find the magic tool for fixing a suspect link in Alan’s bike chain! Reloaded, bike fixed, and off we set up the first of quite a few more hills! Much less complaining in the muscle department today, so last night’s rest paid off. We are though, more or less convinced that our beloved track planners have been determined that we should view their country from every high point available.  Even beautiful panoramas pall after hundreds of feet of lung bursting ascent. The incline of the hills reduced a little after lunch and we were enjoying a moment of flatness, when a passing cyclist waved us down. Had we passed his mate? No. Somehow the two of them had become separated and it seemed they had no contingency plan. We agreed to tell his mate, if we saw him, that his friend would be waiting in a village whose name I have forgotten. Over an hour later we waved down a fellow who fitted the description of lost and lonely cyclist and passed on the message. We hope they were reunited.

The ride today has been a real pleasure and at its end we have treated ourselves to a hotel and a meal in the restaurant. Alan is now busy trying to find the Czech for dumpling having consumed main course dumplings and dessert dumplings! He is confident, however, that they will fill out the wrinkly skin which has not shrunk with his weight loss. Could be a whole new market for dumplings!

Tomorrow awaits with 4000 kilometres on the clock.

Pantomine Time

Tynec – Borotin             52.8 kms         2284’ ascent

We made a cracking start this morning and even the ascent of the hill, as we departed the hostel, was less of an ordeal than anticipated. However, my friends, you may have noticed in the preamble, that the ascent did not stop there! Having spent the last couple of weeks meandering along the river bank, this confrontation with real hills again startled the legs and lungs. If we thought Sweden was like a roller coaster, the Czech Republic is no mean competitor. For those of you who remember life before bubblewrap, these hills were like the corrugated cardboard we used to use to protect precious objects in a parcel. Some small compensation was the return to scenic views of the countryside observed from dozens of summits! After several hours of up/down, up/down, getting hot on the ride up and freezing cold on the way down, it was time to appraise the situation. We were somewhat underwhelmed at our efforts of the day, having completed only 52 kilometres, but a reality check revealed that the next hostel was some 17 kilometres further on up several more hills. Common sense won, and we made for the hostel which was but 10 metres from our consultation point! After much pantomime gesturing, we finally secured a room for the night and a meal for the evening  -  and all this for less than £40! 
PS From Grumps

"One of those Days"

You’re on a long and winding hill. You’ve run out of gears. Your thighs are burning. You leave the saddle and stand on the pedals to round the next bend. It’s steeper. There is a split second between checking behind, deciding to stop, and in half a turn of the pedal, releasing your spd with an outward flick of the heel, squeezing the brakes hard and getting your foot to the floor. At my age, this considerable co ordination does not come without a rush of adrenalin and my lungs  desperately searching for air. Today was full of moments like this!