Sunday, November 29, 2009





Nancy and I have finished a wonderful month in Erseke, Albania, and are in the Albanian capital, Tirana, for a couple days. Three weeks of the Erseke time I was teaching, 2 weeks on the Parables of Jesus and one on the Pastoral Epistles. One week was a week of ministry outside the school for the students, and Nancy and I went with the Osbornes to Greece—not just to enjoy the place but to do some shopping for the school. Thessalonika is easier to get to than the Albanian capital, and the stores are more user-friendly.

Today I preached for the second Sunday in the International Assembly church here in Tirana. It is a five day vacation weekend so some of the regulars were away from the city, but the people were most gracious and attentive as I shared about two parables on prayer. Later today we will go to another church service where our friend Jack Dabney will be preaching, then go out to dinner with him and his wife Susannah. The two of them are long-time workers in Albania and have a wonderful message and spirit of ministry.

We are staying at the Qendra Stefan, the Stephen Center, which is a central Tirana restaurant-hostel run by a Christian couple. They came to the country soon after it opened to outsiders and instead of starting a church started this place as a gathering place for believers and as a fund-generating place for ministries in the country. It has succeeded marvelously on both fronts—and it is one of the few places in the country where you can get a good cup of regular coffee…

At the school we celebrated Thanksgiving with a big turkey dinner, decorations and a reenactment of the Pilgrim experience compliments of the missionary children. A real treat and a reminder of home while away from home. We have enjoyed reconnecting with not only the Osbornes (friends since 1970) but with the missionary families (Gundy and Stoscher) and the Albanian staff. The dedication of these people to the work not only at the school but in the church and community is a real inspiration.

One of the highlights of our time in Erseke was the report given by the students about their week of outreach, when they presented the gospel to over 500 people, mostly children and youth, in Leskovik, Erseke and Billisht. The interest among the children and youth was great, and the encouragement the response gave to missionaries and locals who have been at work for years in these places was also wonderful. As an example, in one meeting the highest estimate of projected attendance was 40 and so material was prepared for that number—but 120 came! It meant quite a bit of rapid cutting out of sheep for the story time, but it was more than worth it. What a joy to see the faces of the students returning with as much enthusiasm as the earliest disciples did when they were sent out Jesus and returned with joy and said, "Lord, even the demons submit to us in your name."

Such is the stuff of ministry here in this Muslim country of Albania. Tuesday we get on the plane and head back to Dublin for two nights, then back to Greensboro. It is time to go home, but we are thankful to God and to his people for the opportunity to serve and be served here…

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Udhekryq

Mountains Outside Erseke

Just over a week ago Nancy and I were saying goodbye to friends in Ireland. We vacated our home in Cahir on Sunday morning and headed north to Dublin to see friends at Adelide Road church. After the services there we went out to the airport and flew to Bologna, Italy, for the night. The next morning we flew to Tirana, Albania, where we were met and taken directly to the town of Erseke and the Udhekryq (Crossroads) Bible School. My first class on The Parables was that night and Nancy’s first English class the next day.

Co Teacher Jack Dabney

Now we have been here for just over a week. In that time we have renewed relationships, made new friends, taught numerous classes, enjoyed wonderful food—and Nancy even managed a couple days of English seminars in the Albanian city of Berat. Since coming the rains have been falling most of the time and the roads have turned into flowing streams, but the school is comfortable and dry, with all the amenities of a school at home.

School Cooks

Albania is very different from Ireland and Greensboro. In the architecture and infrastructure it bears the unmistakable marks of its communist past—marks which are not very pretty. But it also has an air of newness and life. In the midst of decaying apartment buildings there are new buildings popping up, and the roads are bit by bit being smoothed, straightened, and expanded. It is a very beautiful place, with unspoiled Adriatic white sand coastland giving way to incredibly rugged Balkan mountains. Where we are these mountains rise just outside of the town, separating us from Greece, and the beginning of winter has started to cover them with a dusting of snow. Sunsets are dramatic and the air is clear and clean (except when the cheese factory just outside the school belches out its daily dose of smoke). Buildings in the town are often not heated, so their doors are left open even in these cold days, but in the school a modern and innovative system keeps everyone comfortable and the water always hot.

Street Leaving Erseke

All this is to say that the world in which God has placed Nancy and me continues to be an interesting, challenging, and rewarding one. We are blessed to be here in Erseke once again, and are grateful to God for the opportunity to serve and be served. As I experience the road on which God has placed us, I marvel again at how good it is—and thank him for the place and the people, and the chance to continue with the adventure of following him. Come, let us sing for joy to the Lord; let us shout aloud to the Rock of our salvation. Let us come before him with thanksgiving and extol him with music and song… Psalm 95:1,2.

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

Lisburn, N. Ireland

It has been a while since my last posting, and life has been busy. Emily, Steve, Colette and Jacques flew to Paris on the 12th, and we joined them there that afternoon. We were together for three days, taking in the sites and sharing two very small hotel rooms just off rue de Cler, a small but very French walking street. The first day we all took a long boat ride on the Seine and the next day Emily, Steve, Jacques and I walked the major sites of the city center while grandma had special time with Colette. Then we all went to Versailles, though grandma and grandpa returned early with Colette and Jacques, while Emily and Steve toured the great palace. The weather was cool but clear, just right for our purposes, and the crowds were not great. The visit was wonderful, the length just right, and Emily and I were able to get the third in a series of dad-daughter having coffee in a Parisian café—the first when she was 1, the second when she was 11, and this time when she is 35.


Next we all flew together to Dublin, picked up a rental car, and headed back to Cahir, where we spent the next week and a half. I continued to lead services in Cahir and Fermoy, plus a men’s gathering in Cork, and a wonderful evening with Carlow friends, and the family joined in. We had lots of walks, several tourist mini-trips, and special one on one time with each other. Steve found a gym just around the corner from our home and Emily found a park, while Colette and I did several morning walks which included coffee for me, a cookie for her, and chances to visit the cattle and sheep market on the way into town.

Sunday the 25th, after the services in Cahir and Fermoy, we all headed north, with an assist from David Bruce who picked part of our troupe up as they returned the rental car at the Dublin airport. We are now in Lisburn, enjoying the wonderful hospitality of the Bruce family until the Contents fly back home on Thursday. Yesterday we even made it to Bruce's seaside caravan in Donegal, on the west coast of the island. Nancy and I will head back to Cahir that day to enjoy a last gathering with new friends from the Fermoy church, then Friday we have our last prayer time with Cahir people and Saturday prepare to vacate our Cahir home in advance of our leaving for Albania on Sunday—after attending the services at Adelaide Road in Dublin.



In other words these past several weeks have been full and rewarding. We have deepened our love for the people we have been sharing with here in Ireland, and revisited some we have shared with in the past. We have had wonderful times together as a family, particularly with the little ones who grow up so fast. And we have seen more of this beautiful land. At times over these past weeks Nancy and I have turned to each other in amazement at the wonder of the gift of the people, places and experiences God has been giving us. And we marvel at how he works our being blessed by others together with the sense of our being a blessing to others. As God weaves the fabric of life into a pattern, it is wonderful when the two happen together—when we offer what he has given us and we receive what he has given to others. That seems to be the way he has designed things, and for that we praise him!

Wednesday, October 07, 2009

Cahir and Fermoy, Ireland



After a great month of cycling (almost 1200 miles) I met Nancy in Dublin and we are now together in Ireland. We have been given use of a house owned by the Presbyterian Church of Ireland and minister to two churches--one in the town where the house is located, that is Cahir, and the other about 30 minutes drive away in a larger town called Fermoy. Both are in the south-west of the country, with Cork being the closest city.

My responsibilities include preaching and teaching a Bible study in each church, but I also come along and do whatever I can in their prayer meetings and a children's club in the larger setting.

The attendance at Fermoy this past Sunday was about 20 adults, at Cahir it was 4. There is a church worker (non-ordained) who oversees the work of the two churches and they have just been given leave to call a minister to replace the one who left a year ago.

My first week here really opened my eyes to the difficulties faced by the Presbyterian church in the Republic. I had served 2 other churches here on 2 other occasions, but they were in Dublin which is so cosmopolitan that it does not reflect the difficulty of the rest of the, mostly rural, Ireland, and Carlow, which had a fair number of people with northern/Protestant roots plus some immigrants whose faith was birthed abroad. Outside of such areas, in places like I now serve, while many may not practice their Catholicism it is deeply ingrained in their entire psyche, family life and community. It kind of reminds me of Mexico, only there is a large enough Protestant witness in Mexico now that it is not so counter-cultural to be one, whereas here it is...

We have already gotten to know a few people and really appreciate them, their stories, and their faithful witness. Just today we spent the afternoon with a local farmer who produces organic beef. His lands and herds are a model for the whole country, and the brief introduction just about convinced me that organic is the only way to go!


Another man in the church is a dairy farmer and times are extraordinarily difficult. The mass production of dairy products in the United States plus the world economic crisis that has led to a decline in demand in places like Nigeria has had a direct impact on this dairy producer in Ireland...Because of it he is paid 20 euro cents per liter for milk which costs him 25-26 euro cents per liter to produce. And he can't just turn off the production and wait for better times--cows don't work like that.

And in the midst of all this there is the deep faith of these people. Trying to live out their trust in Christ in the midst of a difficult cultural setting and hard economic times. I think I will learn much from them--I pray they will be encouraged and learn a bit from Nancy and me...


So far we have managed to have wonderful trips to both Carlow and Lisburn, seeing people we met there and sharing in worship at the churches we have served. We also have visited the far west coast, and stayed in a B&B at one of our favorite places, the Beara Peninsula...

Cahir is beautiful, with a wonderful river and a Swiss Cottage built by nobility as a day away playhouse.

Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Friday, September 25, 2009--Dublin

1172 miles is the final distance traveled in this cycle trek. From Hamburg to Venice was the route, and it has been completed. In planning the trip a couple days were allowed for rest or unforeseen problems or unanticipated detours, or just flex days at the end of the trip. Our itinerary involved detours (to Slovenia) and problems (broken spoke and nearly broken fork), but still left us with a couple days at the end. So yesterday was a day's visit to Venice, and today was a quick visit to Treviso then plenty of time to get to the airport. In fact we arrived mid-afternoon and our flight was not until 9 pm, so we cycled around the area a bit--not too exciting but better than sitting in an airport.
The flight back to Dublin was smooth, and as Andrea picked up Brian and headed north to Lisburn I was picked up by a Dublin friend and taken to Sandymount, a village just south of Dublin proper, where Nancy was staying with a friend.
So, another wonderful adventure comes to a conclusion. And an excellent adventure and happy conclusion is was! And, again, Thanks be to God!

Thursday, September 24, 2009

Thursday, September 24, 2009--Venice, Italy





Today the bikes stayed in the garage. With only a few miles left to the airport and our Friday flight to Dublin, we decided to spend the day in Venice. Not a bad option to have…

Venice, of course, is a city unlike any other in the world. The news recently noted that the declining population of the city meant that soon it would cease to be a viable city, instead it would be a population center whose existence depended on outside resources, specifically tourism. At the same time the news noted that so many tourists were flooding into the city that it may be necessary to consider limiting access, with one suggestion being that only people with hotel reservations in the city itself would be admitted. In any case, with sinking buildings and rising sea levels the city has its own set of problems, but it is still most interesting to visit.

This was my third trip to the city, and consisted simply of walking around, nursing an espresso on San Marcos Square, and sitting on the steps of a theater eating a Panini and drinking a coke. The weather was pleasant and the crowds not as large as on my previous visits, which made this day pleasant. I think that if a person had a specific interest in certain art or architecture styles Venice would be of extreme interest, but without such a specific interest it was enough to walk, enjoy, watch the people and soak in the ambience.

Wednesday, September 23, 2009—Roncade, Italy




The main road south from Belluno is a busy one, so the route I chose was the route plotted by my TomTom gps. My experience with the TomTom, which has an option titled Bicycle Route, has been a very positive one. Once, in Germany, it led us onto a dirt road that got smaller and smaller until it became nothing but a farmer’s field, and the same day it could not find a paved route between two towns, but besides this one time it’s plan has been excellent. It avoids highly traveled roads yet goes in a relatively straight line, making the route a bit longer than the busy roads but much more interesting and cycle-friendly. And it always lets you know exactly where you are. In short, you should have a decent map with you, but a gps adds security and ease of planning which is very valuable.

The route we followed went through farming country for some time, then turned towards a ridge which we had to cross. The road up the ridge was a climb, but picturesque and noable. But once we reached the top, the Passo di S.Boldo, the other side was unlike any I have ever experienced. It began with a warning that no vehicle over 3 meters in height would be allowed to pass. The next sign indicated that 18 switchbacks were ahead. Then there was a stop light. All of this made me wonder what lay ahead. And what came was a one lane road going through a series of tunnels and switchbacks, descending a vertical mountain face to a valley below. It was as if the road builders had built a road up a canyon and found that it ended up facing a dead-end in the form of a mountain. So they decided to just climb the mountain with the road—which is what they did. An amazing engineering feat, and a most interesting road to ride down.

From the bottom of that pass to where we have stopped for the night, just 12 miles from the Venice airport, the route mirrored the increasingly populated area we were entering. The roads became more crowded until we changed our route to avoid what we had assumed would be our destination, Treviso, and instead had the TomTom guide us towards the airport on a Bicycle Route that bypassed that city. From where we are the ending point of our nearly 1200 mile trip is only about an hour away, so we may not ride at all tomorrow. What we may do is make a sojourn into Treviso to look around, and we will certainly spend most of either tomorrow or Friday in Venice. Hamburg to Venice, 2009, is just about history.

Tuesday, September 22, 2009—Belluno, Italy

We have reached the point in our trip where we need to slow down. Our flight back to Ireland will take off Friday evening, which means we have four days to get to the airport. But the Marco Polo International Airport (Venice) is only around 100 miles away, which should not take four days. So today we stopped after only 24 miles at Belluno, a pleasant but rather ordinary city and capital of the Dolomite area of northern Italy.

To use the word grandeur to describe the Dolomites is perhaps using a cliché, but it is an apt one. The roads follow deep valleys cut through massive mountains which tower over the rivers and roads below. The valleys end, of course, and when they do there is a pass to climb to get to the next valley—which means first a climb then a downhill run. The mountain slopes are steep and peaked, often consisting of bare rock which glistens in the morning or evening sunlight.

The short ride from Cimolais began with an uphill pull over a steep rise then a wonderful ride down the other side, past several small villages and one massive dam and reservoir. When the road reached the town of Longarone it turned south and changed from a beautiful rugged rural road to a heavily traveled main artery. And because of the character of the topography it was necessary to take that road almost all the way to our stopping point—a rather anticlimactic end to a remarkably beautiful day.

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Monday, September 21, 2009—Cimolais, Italy






Today’s ride covered 66 miles and featured just about every kind of terrain you could imagine. It began with a long and scenic downhill, following a mountain river as it descended through dense forests. When the river leveled out it was in the northern part of Italy, an industrial and agricultural area. Our route followed mostly smaller roads that were basically level. They went past some industries, some smaller towns, and through rural areas with their fields of corn. Next the route approached the Dolomites, the massive mountain range at the top of the country. Our first attempt to enter that range was thwarted by a closed road, but a brief detour routed us around the closure, which we learned was most likely caused not by a temporary closure of an existing road but by a section of the road that was just being constructed.

The Dolomites are impressive and many of the villages in them have historically been only reachable by trails or tortuous roads. The road we went on was relatively new and relatively easy cycling because of a series of tunnels that must be replacements for the old ways. One tunnel went for nearly five kilometers, certainly opening up areas of the Dolomites that were unreachable previously. Now much of the area has been made into a National Park, and is excellent for outdoor activities. I assume that in the summer months it is a busy area, but this time of year it is quite silent. Our albergo in Camolais is the only one open.

One of the signs of the time in this part of Italy is the number of derelict or for sale buildings. In this relatively large town there are numerous boarded up homes and numerous buildings that are for sale, and traveling here each hamlet was the same. One wonders what supports the people who live here, which is a question I ask in most rural areas I have traveled past, in nearly any country. Aside from farming, which must be difficult and very seasonal here in the Dolomites, and tourism, which is also very seasonal here, I wonder what people do for work. Walking around there were signs of cleaning up after a celebration, and we learned that yesterday was the annual festival for this city. Entertainers were brought in and performed in every available corner and venue. It must have been a lively place for one day, and local shops must have prospered, but what about the rest of the time? I wonder…

Sunday, September 20, 2009—outside Musil, Italy








Today Brian and I cycled to Slovenia for lunch. We began the day in Tarvisio, Italy, crossed Predil Pass into Slovenia, descended a long and steep downhill into a beautiful valley and stopped in Bovec for a pizza. It was the best pizza of the trip, but don’t tell the Italians.

The mountains of northern Slovenia are massive. They are officially called the Julian Alps, and rise to awesome heights above the valleys below. In the valleys are villages and fields that have existed for centuries, but now they are tourist destinations. People come for the scenery, the outdoors activities, and just to enjoy themselves. Like northern Italy, northern Slovenia has become a mecca for motorcycles, and signs on many of the stores we passed had prominent posters declaring Bikers Welcome.

After our lunch stop we debated about where to go—south to southern Slovenia and Croatia, or back west into Italy. Both were good options but Italy won out, and, after a few more miles following the river in Slovenia, we turned back west, up a pass similar to the one we had come down earlier in the day, towards Italy. The map we have was slightly deceptive as it did not indicate how far and how steep our climb would be, but we made it—not quickly but steadily.

Arriving again in Italy we began our descent towards Udine, but soon stopped for a soda at an outdoors family and sports center. As we sat there enjoying the sodas and soaking in the sun, the beautiful mountain scenery and the quiet of the nearly deserted road we were traveling, we decided to spend the night. The owner-manager of the center said that they were only open for weekends after mid September, but that if we wanted he would make a room available for us, the chef would cook a dinner, and his wife would come in the morning to make us breakfast. It was a good deal, and an enjoyable change from the towns and villages we have stopped in until now, so we did it. Then, as we added up the mileage of the day and saw that it was only 36, one of our shortest days, we also noted that our journey that day did move us past the 1000 mile mark for our travels. An accomplishment to celebrate!

The dinner was excellent, featuring local specialties, and Brian and I have been left alone to spend the night and tend to the place. The staff (owner-manager and cook) have gone home and left us instructions as to how to call them if a problem develops. Rather unusual but just fine. And welcome to Italy…

Saturday, September 19, 2009—Tarvisio, Italy



Eight years ago I made a solo cycle trip from Milan to Trieste. My route took me through southern Austria, along some of the trails I repeated today. My memory of back then was a very positive one—sun, smooth cycling on an excellent bike path, and wonderful scenery. Today began with mixed sunshine and clouds, with a forecast of rain, and I wondered whether one can ever go back, whether good memories of the past are doomed to disappointment. But such was not the case. The day turned out excellent, the path was smooth, and the past was recreated.

Our route followed a river that had carved a wide valley between two high mountain ranges. It passed through several small towns, with their distinctive Austrian character, and routed us through well groomed green fields. It was flat and wonderful, and only at the end of the day, as we moved into Italy did we run into any problems. We passed through the Italian town of Tarvisio and headed up a canyon towards Predil Pass, our entry point into Slovenia. But it soon became clear that there probably would be no place to stay short of going over the pass itself, which would be a formidable task. We found a local man working on his home and asked him what lay ahead. His response was that there would be no place to stay short of Yugoslavia. His information affirmed our concern, but also gave us insight into his generation—what was over the border was still Yugoslavia, not Slovenia. In any case we turned around, headed back to Tarvisio, and found a nice small hotel for the night.

Back nine years ago I had cycled from Austria to Italy over Wirtzen Pass, and had experienced one of the steepest hills I had ever ridden. On the maps it is now noted that the gradient of the pass reaches 18%, which is incredibly steep, and it felt like it. This time Brian and I decided to try a different path between the two countries, and it was completely different—the line between Austria and Italy was imperceptible, there was almost no gradient at all either exiting Austria or entering Italy. If only I had known that those years ago…

Friday, September 18, 2009—Kotschach, Austria





This morning the sun shone on the snow-covered peaks outside our windows. There were clouds around, but the sun was shining through. The breakfast was what we have had every day since this trip began—a buffet assortment of meats and cheeses, breads and rolls with butter and jams, corn flakes and a granola, some dried or fresh fruit, yoghurt of several varieties, a hard-boiled egg, juice and coffee. Once, in Salzburg, scrambled eggs and bacon were also available, but aside from that there has been no variation—a good and hearty and predictable breakfast.

The first 30 kilometers of our ride were downhill. We followed a road that paralleled the river running down the valley we were in, or we were on a cycle path alongside the river. At one point we hooked onto a marked cycle path, R8 to be specific, and followed it for miles, assuming it was going our way. However, when the signage actually labeled the direction of the path, we realized that in following it we had turned away from our southerly route some 5 miles before. So we turned around and headed back, wondering where we would have ended up had we not seen that sign. Having returned to our planned route, we ascended a pass and it started to rain.

Arriving at the top we briefly considered stopping there for the night, but decided to keep on going, and descended carefully. At the end of the day we stopped at a guesthouse (gafthof, small hotel) in a village at the foot of that descent. The guesthouse was comfortable, and slightly unusual as it was also not only a bar and restaurant (not unusual) but a butcher shop (fleischmerei) as well. The receptionist directed us to where we could put our bicycles for the night, and at first we thought that she had told us to leave them in the slaughterhouse part of the building. Fortunately that was not right, and they spent the night in the garage next door…

The mountains here in Austria seem to be a series of east-west parallel ranges, each separated by a valley with the river which has carved it in the middle. What this means is that if you are following a river you spend days traveling in a gradual uphill or downhill direction, with awesome mountains on each side. However, if you are traveling south (or north) as we are, you go from pass to valley to pass to valley. The roads go precipitously uphill, then downhill, then cut across a valley to begin the process again. Yesterday we went over one of the highest roads in the country—climbing to the top then descending into a valley. Today we went over two more ranges—climbing up then racing down. And as we head south there is at least one more range looming on our path. It is the range separating Austria from Italy and Slovenia, and depending on what route we choose we will at the top of the pass enter one or the other of these countries. All of these ranges seem to be considered as part of the Alps, so our crossing will be multi-faceted, not a simple up and down.

The rains kept away for part of the day, but began as we climbed out of one valley. When you are straining to carry yourself, your bicycle, and all that you have stuffed into your packs (panniers), a little rain can be a cooling blessing. But on the other side, going downhill, the same can be an irritant or a danger. And we had both today. Rain on the up and rain on the down. I guess in life the same thing can happen, the same experience can be interpreted as either a blessing or a curse, depending on the circumstances or the viewpoint or the attitude. Which makes the Apostle Paul’s faith more remarkable as even from the darkness of prison he could write, what has happened to me has really served to advance the gospel… And because of this I rejoice…(Philippians 1:12, 18)

Thursday, September 17, 2009—Heiligenblut, Austria






Grossglockner Peak is the highest point in Austria. Grossglockner Pass is the highest point in the road named after that peak, the Grossglockner Hochalpenstrasse (High Alpine Road). Today the goal was to traverse that road from north to south, and that goal was accomplished. But it was hard. In the process of traveling just 32 miles we climbed approximately 1.2 vertical miles and descended towards the elevation we had when we began. The Hochalpenstrasse is a toll road to all but bicycles, and many cycles use it as a challenge. The road begins formally approximately 10 kilometers south of the town of Bruck, where we spent last night, at a toll booth for cars and motorcycles. There is also an optional check in point for cyclists that, for 2 Euros, provides a date and time stamped print out indicating exactly when the descent was begun. At the top of the pass there is an identical check point where that print out can be inserted indicating exactly when the top of the pass is reached. Neither Brian nor I chose to time our ascent, it was enough to just try it.

Last night the hotel desk clerk said that today would be scattered rain. Fortunately for us there was none on the ascent—the clouds covered the high peaks but it was dry. Unfortunately when we reached the top the rain started, and it continued throughout our descent. This meant that the climb up while very difficult (12% grades regularly) was aided by the elements, but the ride down was awful. It was cold, wet, slippery and so steep that the bike brakes needed to be constantly applied, and with nearly maximum force. While there was almost no car traffic, simply fighting the elements made it so harrowing that we stopped at the first town on the way down, a small resort town named Heiligenblut, and settled in for the night.

In the end, while usually it would not be very honorable to say that a day’s cycle travel averaged around 5 miles an hour, on this day it is. The climb is a world class cycle challenge, and it has been met. While the descent did not afford the luxury of sight-seeing, the views on the way up were magnificent, including sights of cloud covered peaks, giant waterfalls, meadows far below, glaciers in the distance and snow by the side of the road. It has been a day to remember for its good and its bad, and for the grace of God in enabling us to try and to achieve.

Wednesday, September 16, 2009—Bruck an der Grossglockner





How many photos of snow-capped mountains, crystal clear lakes, green pastures and flower-festooned homes does it take to convey the beauty of the Austrian Alps? Certainly more than can be included in this or any blog.

Today we traveled from Salzburg to Bruck an der Grossglockner, a distance of 94 kilometers, or abouty 58 miles. The route was uphill all the way—mostly gradual but at times steep. We traveled on the road for a while, but bypasses for tunnels and the discovery of the Taurenradweg bike trail moved us away from the road for most of the journey. And that was a good thing as the road between Salzburg and Bruck is pretty heavily traveled and the trail provided a good alternative.

Our journey went along the Saalach River, one of the tributaries to the Inn River. The Saalach begins in the high Alps of Austria and wends its way to near Salzburg, where it joins the Salzach which runs into the Inn which joins the Danube and finally empties into the Black Sea. Over the millennia it has dug a deep canyon through the Alps, so as one moves through it you are surrounded by high mountains on all sides. In the course of these years the river has also created at least one beautiful valley, and we cycled through the farms and small towns of that valley today. The weather was good for most of our travel, some sun and some clouds, although it did get cool towards the end.

My previous difficulty with getting The Sound of Music tunes out of my head as I approached Salzburg disappeared as I cycled away from Salzburg. In its place was the tune and words of How Great Thou Art. This hymn, and particularly the line, When I in awesome wonder consider all the worlds thy hands have made…certainly fit the scenery of the day. And it was a whole lot better than a day of A doe a deer a female deer…

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Tuesday, September 15--Salzburg, Austria




There are certain cities that are associated with certain songs. There is Frank Sinatra and New York, New York and there is Tony Bennett and I left my heart in San Francisco. And there is Salzburg, the city of Mozart and of Julie Andrews and The Sound of Music. Today I cycled from Burghausen, Germany to Salzburg, Austria, and try as I could it was impossible to stop the echo of songs from The Sound playing in my mind. I found myself humming Doe, a deer a female deer… and would say to myself—STOP! And I would—for about two minutes. Then the tune would reappear, intruding itself into whatever else I may have been thinking, or the nothingness of simply pedaling through beautiful countryside.

The trip to Salzburg was only a bit over 35 miles, and I arrived in the early afternoon. The day had begun with a solid cloud cover, but as it went along there was more and more sun until by the afternoon the skies were quite clear. And coming into Salzburg, following the Salzach River and rounding a bend to see the arc of buildings facing the river and the famous castle looming above the city, was quite a sight. The city of Mozart and Andrews showed itself very well.

There is a cycle path between where I spent last night and Salzburg, but I did not follow it. Instead I had my gps map a cycle route and I followed it. The reason is that while dedicated cycle paths are sometimes excellent routes, often following a river closer than one could by car, passing through solitary fields, and separated from the noise and danger of a street, yesterday’s experience with the path was one of wet sandy grit and I did not want more today. Plus I knew that the gps route would follow small roads, of which there are plenty in this part of the country. And an additional factor is that cycle paths try to avoid towns, making cycling easier and safer, but one of the reasons for cycling in a foreign place is to come to know the towns and see the people that live in them. All that is to say that the ride here was enjoyable and interesting.


We decided to try to find a place to stay in the old city, and were successful, probably because this is not the highest tourist time and rooms are available. So we settled in comfortably. Next was a walk around, enjoying the sunshine and admiring the human creations (buildings and bridges) and the God made creations (the river, cliffs, hills and mountains).

Salzburg is in the shadow of the Bavarian Alps, our destination tomorrow. We plan on following the Saalach River to Zell am See, at the foot of Grossglockner Pass. It should be an interesting day and is something to look forward to. But today is one to look back on with pleasure and thanksgiving—for the health and resources which God has given me so that I can enjoy a special part of his world.

Note: First two photos from Getty Images

Monday, September 14, 2009

Monday, September 14--Burghausen, Germany




The sound of the wheels of a car on wet pavement is a distinctive sound. It is a sound that cyclists are particularly attuned to, and particularly in the morning. From the comfort of a warm bed one can hear that sound and immediately understand what lies ahead—cold, wet and probable misery.

Such was the sound that Brian and I awoke to this morning. And such was the majority of the day. Yesterday we had enjoyed near perfect weather, but today made up for it. While not a drenching downpour, most of the day there was a drizzle that clouded the glasses and dampened the spirit. And the path we were on, the Innradweg, did not ameliorate the discomfort. The path was well marked and well situated, following the Inn River fairly closely and with excellent views, but the surface was regularly a gritty sand. Such a surface probably would be good in dry weather, but in the damp of this day it simply clogged the brakes and covered the legs. And what is more, cycling in sand is somewhat akin to running in sand—it takes a constant effort that is greater than what another surface may need. And the route was upriver, not downriver as the Naab, Regen and Danube were. All of this meant that instead of being able to look around at the beauty, one’s focus has to be on the front wheel and what lies a few feet ahead. Rocks to dodge, muddy spots to evade, and ruts to avoid. But such is part of any cycle journey…

So, in the end we went 81 kilometers (50+ miles) and called it a day. Our next goal is Salzburg, was unreachable in just one day, so we divided the distance in two parts, and today’s part was what we accomplished. We traveled along the Inn and Salzach rivers, through miles of corn fields and past several small but charming towns, and have ended up in a nice hotel in a delightful small German town, Burghausen. Neither Brian nor I had heard of the place before, but evidently many people have, including many famous jazz performers whose names and presence are immortalized in the main street, a street called the street of fame. The town is just across the Salzach River from Ach en der Salzach, Austria, and its imposing castle and ancient main street is quite interesting.


So, with today’s trip we have covered nearly 750 miles in 12 days. We have cycled all or parts of the Elberadweg, Saaleradweg, Naabradweg, Regenradweg, Donauradweg, Innradweg and Salzachradweg. Rad means cycle weg means way. Each has had its own personality, its own plus and minus, its own character. And it has been good…Next comes the Alps—and the adventure of living goes on. Thanks be to God!