Sunday, September 13--Wernstein am Inn, Austria

Today was another near perfect cycling day. We begin at Worth am der Donau, several miles outside of Regensburg, Germany, and ended up 89 miles later, in Werstein am Inn, Austria. Our route was simple—follow the Donauradweg signs to Passau, then find the Inn radweg and follow it towards Salzburg. Simple and easy—down one river (Danube) then up a tributary (Inn) towards our next destination, Salzburg. The weather was ideal—not too hot or cold, and there was a sporadic cloud covering of the sun. The paths were both well marked, generally well surfaced and gradually sloped. And the wind was blowing towards the southwest while we were heading southeast—a good arrangement.

The Donau (Danube) was on one side as we rode down the Donauradwweg, and fields were on the other, generally fields full of corn in various stages of being harvested. I did not know that this part of Bavaria produced so much corn, but it does. Not far to the east of us were hills marking the western limits of the Danube valley, and on some of the hills were castles or churches. The paths are well used, with walkers and cyclists going both past and towards us.

We finally stopped where we did because the road/cycle path we were on went straight through the middle of a large tent, full of people, which were finishing their three day festival. Such festivals are a fixture of this part of Germany and Austria—a weekend of music, dancing groups, booths selling all sorts of food, and beer. Each town seems to have its miniature Oktoberfest. Since it is Sunday, by the time we checked into the pension near the tent and had cleaned up the festivities were closing down, but it was interesting to see a little and hear a little.

An interesting side comment for today is that we were actually not sure what country we were in when we stopped cycling. We were tipped off to the change from Germany to Austria when we asked the waitress at the hotel restaurant to translate the menu and she pointed to the first item and identified it as a traditional Austrian dish. But until we had studied the maps carefully we did not know for sure where we were. The Austrian-German border has no markings of any kind, and while the Inn River for most of its length is a border, at the confluence of the Inn and Danube, that is Passau, such is not the case. So the cycle path crossed the river and remained in Germany, but at some unmarked and unnoticed to us point the river became the border and we entered a new country. Such is the political nature of the new Europe, the European Union. Lots of positives to this arrangement, but I kind of missed a stamp in my passport…

A final note. The Donauradweg is in a class of itself. The Elberadweg was OK, but not that interesting and at points not well signed. The Saaleradweg was too hard to follow and too mixed between good paths and bad trails. The Naabradweg was very good and the short section of the Regen River trail was good as well. But for signage, scenery, small towns and topography, the Donauradweg is the kind of place you could take your family, enjoy, and be safe. Maybe I’ll do that sometime.

Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday, September 8, 9 & 10, 2009

Thursday, September 10, 2009--Kenmath, Germany

Today we followed the route suggested by my gps, instead of trying to follow the Saaleradweg, and it generally worked well. I say generally because at one point it directed us towards a gravel road that deteriorated into a forest road that disappeared. A bit frustrating but we recovered and ended up covering 66 miles, and enjoying most of them.

When I travel by bicycle I try to avoid major roads and major cities. Today the only largish city we went through was Hof, the last (or first, depending on your direction) city of any size on the Saale River. South from there you travel up the Saale towards its headwater, and it gets smaller and smaller. While we were not trying to parallel the river we did cross it enough to see this change, and when we finally turned away at Sparneck it was little more than a trickle of water.

From there, continuing south, we rode uphill to two continental divides, that is where water falling on one side of a line would end up in the Elbe and North Sea, while water falling on the other would end up in the Danube and the Black Sea. The elevation was not great, we will go over much higher points in the Alps, but it was a milestone.

Aside from our one problem, today’s cycling was excellent. The wind was either absent or with us, the predicted rain did not materialize, and nearly all day we were on relatively small roads going through fields, forests and small towns, andthe bakery which we stopped at in the mid-afternoon (our typical day begins with breakfast, then we cycle all day except for a bakery break around 2 or 3) was full of tasty treats. In the end we traveled 66 miles and ended up in Kemnath, a town in former West Germany that is at the center of a land with 4,000 lakes. Our small family-run hotel is delightful and the fish dinner, suggested by the owner and his wife, was delicious. A good day with impressions to treasure.


Wednesday, September 9, 2009--Saalburg,Germany


Today we made a bit more progress towards our final goal, but also made a semi-final decision about the trail we are following. Specifically, we decided that when it is good it is spectacular, going alongside a beautiful river and through interesting small towns, but when it is bad it is terrible, long routes that are unnecessary, hillside climbs, ambiguous or absent signage, and bad surfaces. And since we do not know which it will be, we decided to abandon the route.

Today we traveled 53 miles through forest, field, along a river and a reservoir. At one point the gps I am carrying came in very handy as the route signage was clearly pointing us back in the direction we had just come from. The skies were clear and the wind benign. And we ended up in Saalburg, in a fine small hotel overlooking a large reservoir in the midst of the forests—with the worst food I have ever had.

A word about hotels and Germany. Our first hotel was run by a Croatian family and featured Croatian food. The fourth was run by a Bulgarian family and featured Bulgarian food. The eighth was run by a Hungarian family and featured Hungarian food. In between the second, fifth and sixth hotels had corporate international ownership. Only the third and ninth were German run family hotels. All of which points to the international face of modern Germany and the prevalence of Eastern Europeans in that face.



Tuesday, September 8, 2009--Jena, Germany




Each of these days was along the Saaleradweg, and each was different. On the 8th, after musing about getting there days and going there days, it seemed that we were into a getting nowhere day. First, the ride out of Jena seemed to go smoothly, as we found the marked cycle trail and followed it carefully. It went past some wonderful riverside scenery for a while, but then turned away from the river and up a hillside. After not too long the trail had deteriorated into a forest path, then a rocky forest path, then an uphill rocky forest path—impossible to cycle. After pushing the cycles up the path to an overlook, evidently the destination of that section of the path, we followed what we thought was the continuation of the path. But in fact it was a road to a castle, a tourist destination, which dead-ended. Retracing our steps was difficult, but we finally managed, only to end up on a road that was closed due to construction. The alternative was to go back up that road to a junction, but as we proceeded we discovered that the road was closed in that direction. Construction everywhere! Which left us with the option of retracing our steps back to where we had begun—up the hillside.

At that point a man with a map appeared, and he spoke English. He, too, was completely lost, but he was able to point us in the direction of a cycle path that might get us out of the valley we were in. So we took that path and, indeed, made it out of our dead ends. The path ended on a fairly busy road, but at least it went in our direction. That is until another Road Closed sign appeared. This time we realized that the detour was not only long but in the opposite direction from which we were going. So we ignored the sign and discovered that such was the best choice. In the US most road construction works on one half of a road at a time, leaving room for alternating traffic. Here it seems that construction works on both sides of the road at the same time, meaning that the road is completely impassible for vehicular traffic. Thus the detours. But also thus the possibility of walking one’s bike by the side of the construction, and through the workers, getting to the other side. And this is what we did—we walked the bikes to the other side of the construction and then enjoyed a wonderful traffic-free downhill to our destination…

The lesson of the day? One is that with too many obstacles you can not get that far—our progress for the day was only 34 miles. But more than that, sometimes it seems that there is nowhere to go, that every choice is blocked. But there is always a way…Reminds me of what Paul wrote in 1 Corinthians 10:13, Corinthians 10:13, No temptation has seized you except what is common to man. And God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can stand up under it.

Monday, September 7--Naumburg, Germany

In the activity of cycle touring there are two kinds of days. One can be called a getting there day and the other a going there day. Today was one of the latter.

In a getting there day the point of cycling is to get somewhere, usually somewhere defined as the day or the trip begins. In a getting there day the places visited are means to an end, items to be done with as expeditiously as possible, progress markers to tick off as the day unfolds. The accomplishment of a measured goal is the goal, and success or failure can be easily analyzed. The most common question asked as I meet people while cycling is How many miles do you go a day? That is a getting there day kind of question. How far becomes the defining measure of the trip.

A going there day may well have a defined goal, like a getting there day does, but the measure of the day is not the reaching of that goal. Instead, the measure of the day is the experience of cycling itself. The focus of a going there day is not the destination but the travel, not the place aimed towards but the movement along a line towards that place. How many miles is not relevant on a going there day, rather How was the ride is relevant. A going there day is about the sights and sounds and smells along the way, about people encountered and the strange things that happen.

On a fairly long cycle trip such as this one, there is a place for both kinds of days. And there are conditions that lend themselves to defining a day in one way or another. The first several days of this trip have been primarily getting there days. We wanted to test out our bikes and bodies, to see if the projected plan for the trip seems workable, to establish a rhythm. And the weather voted for a getting there day as well. The wind was very strong against us, rain threatened and came, and some of the trail was lost to us. Accomplishing distance was done against the external forces, we had to push through the obstacles. And they were good getting there days. We found we can and we did what we wanted to do—and more.

But today was a going there day. In the first few days we have already gone farther than projected, so anxiety about our plan is pretty well alleviated. And bikes and bodies seem to be OK. And the clouds have passed, the winds have slowed, and the rain is gone. So today was a day to sit back and enjoy—figuratively speaking. We did travel 47 miles, which is about what we projected per day, but we stopped at Naumburg, several miles short of the city of Jena, the destination we had in mind. And not even all 47 of the miles were progress towards our destination, as we got lost several times. We are following the Saale River Cycling Trail (Saaleradweg), but at times we are doing it without success. Blame signage that is not there or somewhat ambiguous, or our careless failure to note what is there, but at one point we were so lost that we came back to the same spot four times before we got the turn right and rejoined the trail. But in a going there day that is not very important, because the moments are defined by the experience , not the lineal progress, and what happens when going a wrong way is just as significant as what happens going the right way.

Today we enjoyed the ride. Our latitude I fairly far north, so the weather here has turned to fall. You can feel it on your skin and smell it in the air. The trees have not changed in color, but they look ready. The crops are cut and the apples are falling off the trees. And we traveled right next to the Saale River, at least when we were not lost or the track did not veer away from it. The river is a tributary to the Elbe, which is the first river Brian and I followed, and as a tributary is much smaller and more approachable, and is growing smaller as we go towards its headwaters. The towns are becoming more interesting, they are not huge cities but smaller towns and villages, each with its church, its old buildings, its central square and its history. While these towns still show some of the characteristic deterioration and neglect of the former Soviet Union, they seem to have been less affected and maintained a brighter charm. And in a going there day you observe and enjoy these things, in each little town or farm or field that you pass.

And you have time to chat with the people you meet. Today we stopped at a coffee shop for refreshment after pedaling just over three hours. The shop was small and we chatted with the owner. I commented that the apricot streusel I was eating was particularly tasty, which pleased the owner as his wife had made it. And I learned that his competence in English (something a surprisingly few people we have met have displayed) was because of visitors and friends who came to see him from the United States. I further learned that these visitors were often pastors, coming to encourage him in his work as a church planter—something very difficult to do in Germany. And he had studied in Albania, while working with Youth With a Mission. In a going there day these encounters are highlights, not reaching a mileage goal.

As I think about the idea of two kinds of days on a bike, I realize that life is usually lived with a focus on one or the other. We are sometimes focused on getting somewhere or some thing, and sometimes on the experience of the moment. And some times and seasons it is appropriate to have one focus or the other—neither is better than the other. But I am also afraid that for some people the focus is not just for a time but for a long time—too long. And for some people the focus is not right for the time. Jesus himself had a goal, he had an appointment with the cross, one which had been set before time and eternity. And he met that appointment. But at times he just lived for the moment. He left the pressing crowd for time alone, he paused en route to a soldier’s house to address a desperate woman, and he stopped his march to Jerusalem beneath a tree to call Zacchaeus down.

My point is simply the same point made long ago by The Preacher (Ecclesiastes), There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven... (Eccl 3:1) And my point is a challenge to me and to others to discern the time and live it as it is meant to be lived. To not get so focused on either reaching a definable goal or just being in the moment that the other has no place...

Saturday & Sunday, September 5 &6, 2009--Barby & Halle, Germany

Sunday, September 6, 2009

Today’s journey went from Barby to Halle, one of the major cities along the Saale River. The cycle trail followed the river at times, and at other times moved away from it. At times it was easy to follow and at other times lost completely. But between the trial signs, the gps, and a map, we managed just fine. When we arrived in Halle we found a place in an upscale hotel near the city center and walking street, and were able to negotiate a price significantly lower than what was being asked.

After cleaning up we wandered into the main square where we followed our custom of quenching our thirst with the local brew, while watching the people go about their lives. People watching is a main evening activity on a cycle trip, and Brian and I have become quite proficient at it. After this we had a Chinese dinner and called it a day.





Saturday, September 5

Today’s ride covered 71 miles of the Elbe River Cycle Route, the Elberadweg. It began in Walkau and ended at a pension run by a Bulgarian family in Barby, the town at the confluence of the Saale and Elbe rivers. The day’s cycling was uneventful, included some off the posted route travel through forests, and ended with a ferry ride across the Saale to the town of Barby.

When we arrived in Barby we had a minor problem finding a place to spend the night, but we were rescued by a small corps of young boys who were more than eager to lead the lost cyclists to the pension we were trying to find. They each had a bicycle and as a pack led us around corners and down streets to the pension.

For dinner our options were the pension and its Bulgarian cuisine, a Chinese eatery and a French restaurant. Finding the latter in Barby was a surprise to us, so we tried it and it was very good. One of the joys of cycling is the capacity to eat all you want, and every night Brian and I share in that joy!

Friday, September 4, 2009--Wulkau, Germany

Today was a long day, and one in which I learned a lesson—a humbling lesson. First, the ride. While we have no set destination, as each day unfolds Brian and I just see how far we want to go, and act on what we see. Today it looked like a very interesting town in former East Germany would be the best destination. It would have been around 115 km (68 miles)—a stretch with a strong headwind most of the time, but doable if there were decent weather. The problem was that every room in Havelsburg was full. A horse show was on the books for the weekend, and every hotel, pension and guest house was full up. The man at the tourist information office, who spoke no English, seemed to be despairing when we asked for a room, but after consulting various books and after making several phone he found us a room just 10 miles down the road. So, at the end of the day our mileage worked out to 78. Not bad for a couple of old men…

Unusual, but effective, road sign


The room we have settled in to is fine, but there is no place to eat in this small town. The town itself feels empty, like many of the towns we have pedaled through, there is nothing open but this guest house. The good news, though, is that the bartender/hotelier will boil wurst, so dinner was two of them, two sausages. Not very satisfying after a hard day riding, but better than nothing.

Now the humbling lesson. On the route today I noted that we would be passing through the town of Wittenberge. Knowing a bit about church history I thought that this was the place Martin Luther studied and the site of his famous posting of his 95 theses, that is things he wanted to discuss with other church leaders. So I insisted that we stop at the town and look at the church. But as I rode around I saw no signs indicating its location. Finally I found an information office, and went in to ask. When I did I was informed that Martin Luther had done his work in Wittenberg, a completely different town from Wittenberge. So I was knocked down a notch, realizing that while church history is one thing church geography is another…

Oh, and by the way, the Germany I am traveling through now, former East Germany is different from former West Germany. My observations remind me a bit of Ukraine or Slovenia, where things in both countries, parts of the former USSR, just seem a bit more tired and worn. We passed one park that never would have been as poorly maintained in the western side of Germany, and many buildings that needed paint or repair that would have been done years earlier on the other side. East and West are now one country, but the impact of Soviet rule and philosophy still hangs around, and it is not a good impact. While the reasons for this are extremely complex, I believe that one is that when you try to remove the Christian faith from a culture, it will inevitably decline, losing some of the beauty and joy that is meant to be such a part of the God-given human experience and expression.

Compare this city street from former East Germany with yesterday's photo of Hitzacker, former West Germany.

Thursday, September 3, 2009--Hitzacker, Germany

Typical home in the German countryside near Hamburg


Today has been the second day of my journey by bicycle from Hamburg to Venice. The day started out with a drizzle and went through what seemed like all seasons of the year. There was thunder and lightning and rain driven by a wind so strong that the raindrops stung the face and the progress of the bicycle was negligible (of course the wind was in my face). And there was a delightful stop for coffee and a sweet when the sun shone so brightly that it was hot on the skin. And there were ups and downs, some confusion about route, and glorious panoramas of the Elbe River. I pedaled through several classic German towns, climbed a castle tower to where the bells hung, and ended up in Hitzacker, an ancient city on the Elbe, and ended up traveling just short of 58 miles. In short it was a classic cycling day.


When I researched the route Brian and I are taking I was uncertain of the nature of the Elberadweg, that is the Elbe cycle path. In the literature (most of which is in German so unintelligible to me) the path is presented as clearly marked and easily traveled. Today I learned that while generally accurate, neither is completely true. At times the marking was missing, so we chose well marked roads instead of the path, and at times the route was rough cobblestone or sidewalks. But most of the time the route was as advertised, one I would, with some caution, still recommend.


Aside from the interesting countryside and the ancient villages, the most interesting event of the day was a conversation with a hotel/restaurant owner. I asked him a bit about the area, and he went further than answering my basic and simple questions. One of the subjects he initiated was the border between East and West Germany, which he informed me was, at this point, the Elbe River itself. My lack of attention to this fact is a sign of how quickly things change, as I realized that not that many years ago I would have been on the frontier of two opposing powers and two competing cultures. Nor would I have realized that tomorrow, after just a few miles, I would be entering former East Germany and that all of the rest of my time in Germany I would be there, in places that were closed to people like me until relatively recently. The hotelier encouraged me to cross the river and note the change, to look behind the store fronts lining the road to the buildings and houses behind. He said the difference would be marked…And we will see.

Wednesday, September 2, 2009--Hamburg, Germany

Today was a warm up day for our cycle trip from Hamburg to Venice. I began at the White Sands Hotel with a modified Full Irish Breakfast. What that means simply is that I did not take any of the selection of cereal and went past most of the fruit. And I declined the black pudding and the bacon, while accepting the eggs, toast, rolls, sausage and juice. When the Irish use the word full to describe what they eat in the morning, they mean it…But it may not be the best for the start of a day that will involve some cycling.

After breakfast I took a 30 minute ride on the 102 Dublin City Bus from the hotel back to the airport, where I picked up my bike from Left Luggage and made my way to the waiting area for check-in for the flight to Hamburg. My friend Brian arrived a few minutes later, with his bike in a rather disheveled box and the tickets. Checking in was easy, the walk to the gate not long, and the standing in a queue to board the plane, while in a lounge adequate for about one third the number of people who were in it, was not bad. Once we took off, the flight from Dublin to Hamburg was quick (1 ½ hours) and uneventful, although it involved sharing a three seat row with not only Brian but also the largest person I have ever sat next to on a plane. It must have been uncomfortable to him, particularly,

We arrived in Hamburg around 3:30, and made our way to luggage and collected our bikes. Once in our hands it took about a half an hour to unpack them and put the pieces that had to be disassembled to satisfy the airlines and fit in the box back together. That is always a task that begins any trip, and it was not unpleasant as the luggage hall was fairly deserted for most of the process. The last of the preparation was changing into cycling clothes in the restroom and abandoning the boxes they had come in. I always feel a bit awkward just leaving a large cardboard container in a restroom, but there is no alternative—the boxes hold the bike well but the bike would not do well carting the box around.

As we walked our bikes out of the terminal I turned on the gps I have brought with me, and it soon synced in with strong satellite signals and Ken’s voice calmly directed us to turn right. From that point on, and with great faith in Ken and the gps, Brian and I wound our way through the streets of Hamburg, a city of 1.8 million people, the second largest of all German cities. You could navigate without a gps, but in an urban area of this size, it sure helped…


After just 19 flat miles, a distance pre-set based on the arrival time of our flight and the desire to just get out of the city on our first day, we made our destination--a small hotel that I had booked over the internet. The hotel backs onto a canal that is part of the Elbe River system, and caters to travelers of all kinds—cyclists, motorists, walkers and barge enthusiasts. It has a beer garden on the riverbank and one of the strangest pear trees I have ever seen (looks almost like the pears have been hung on the tree like Christmas ornaments).

The room is clean and simple, and because the restaurant specializes in Croatian cuisine, along with the local brew I had a dish consisting of mince (hamburger in US) stuffed with a white sharp cheese, which was more than enough.

In short, everything looks good. All is well and I am grateful to God for the good beginning which he has given us…

Tuesday, September 1, 2009--Dubin, Ireland

This will be the first entry in this blog about adventures that are upcoming in the next three months. The first entries will be about a month long cycle trip that I am doing with my Northern Ireland friend, Brian. The next will be about a month long preaching and sharing time Nancy and I will have in Fermoy and Cahir, Ireland. The third will be a month in Albania, teaching at a Bible School in the town of Erseke, then preaching at a church in the capital, Tirana.

Yesterday at 6:30 pm I boarded a plane in Greensboro, North Carolina, I then sped through an airport in Philadelphia, and landed in Dublin, Ireland, at 7:30 am the next day, that is today, Tuesday. There’s really not much to write about an overnight airplane flight, except to say that it is over with. Not too painful, but not something to look forward to with much eagerness.

When I arrived in Dublin I was half expecting that the most necessary piece of luggage I had checked, indeed the only piece, would not arrive with me. Since that is a bicycle, and the plan is to begin cycling in Germany tomorrow, its absence would present a serious problem. That happened once a couple years ago, when Richal, Brian and I had a cycling trip from Milan to Amsterdam all planned out. Their trusty steeds arrived but mine did not. In fact the airline did not finally get the bike into my hands until I had suffered the ignominy of having to take the train through the Alps to Switzerland, while the others earned boasting rights by cycling the route. But this time, while I had already seen all the rest of the luggage spewed out onto the conveyer belt, and I had obtained the proper forms from Lost Luggage, my anxiety was allayed as a smiling baggage handler brought the bike to me. Do I qualify for the saying, Oh, you man of little faith. Or for being wise in learning from past experience...???


Before leaving the States I had made a reservation in a hotel for this first night. I meet Brian tomorrow but, with schedules as they are and knowing the possibility of some baggage problem, I have decided that a day of margin (and rest) is a good idea at the beginning of a trip. I had looked at hotels at the airport, but decided instead on one that was easily reached by public transportation, was in a more interesting location than an airport flight path, and which, given the high prices of airport hotels, was more reasonable. So after checking my bike in the Left Luggage counter at the airport, where I will recover it tomorrow, I hopped on the Dublin City Bus #102 and in 30 minutes, and after some nice conversation with local fellow travelers, I was deposited at the front door of the White Sands Hotel in Portmarnoch. Since it was only around 10 am I had planned on leaving my luggage at the hotel and walking around the area, but the desk clerk found a room for me that was already cleaned, and signed me into it.


Portmarnoch is just south of Malahide, the site of one of the great estates and castles of Ireland, Malahide Castle. It is on the east coast of Ireland, a short distance north of Dublin, and boasts exceptional sandy beaches. The hotel is just across the road from the beach, and my room gazes out on a sandy shoreline, several small islands, and the waters that separate the large islands of Great Britain and Ireland, the Irish Sea. It is gorgeous…

As soon as I had put my luggage down in my room I headed out and walked the beach for an hour to stretch my legs after the long travel. A local supermarket provided the ingredients for a light lunch, then a short nap and then three more hours of walking—along the beaches, up to Malahide, to the castle tea room (closed when I arrived), and who knows where else (at times I certainly had no idea where I was). The newspaper announced today that this summer has been the wettest summer in record in some parts of Ireland. All parts got lots of rain, but some beat records kept since 1866. And the paper added that the Irish will hope in vain for any improvement in the month ahead. But today was wonderful. Not cold, scattered clouds, lots of sun and no rain at all. A perfect welcome to this Yankee and a great start to this adventure.


Tomorrow I meet Brian at the airport at 10:30 and we head off for Hamburg, our starting point. Our plan is to go south about 1,000 miles, finally flying out of Venice, Italy on the 25th. We will follow rivers, go through Bavaria, experience Austria and climb the Alps or Dolomites, possibly through both Italy and Slovenia. I marvel at the grace of God who gives me such opportunities, and look forward to what he has to teach me along the way through the places, people and experiences. Those lessons are what each of have the opportunity to learn every day, not just while on trips like this but wherever we are and whatever we encounter. The lessons are there to learn, all we need to do is open our eyes and our hearts and see…As the great hymn says, Open my eyes that I might see…