Czech Report
Day 1: July 24th
The Czech country side is a lovely place to ride. There are no murderous hills or psycho wind, there are courteous drivers, and it’s surprisingly well signed.
Leaving cities, however, is always difficult, even on a well signed route (like the A11). It feels like you are playing Where’s Waldo in a book of infinite pages. The signs are always dressed the same but seemingly impossible to find. The joy of finding one is instantly subdued when you realize you are but a few pages into a book of infinite length. The art work lacks all the fun crazy antics and a wizard that made the original Where’s Waldo so enjoyable. (In Denmark, it’s called Where’s Wally!)
We had a short day, the stress of the heat and working to sweat out all of Prague’s debauchery left us exhausted.
We camped in a field that pulsed to the sounds of a distant discotech.
In the early AM hours we were rudely awoken by a pack of wild drunk bros that decided to pitch there tent next to ours, not to sleep in, but more as a centrepiece to their conversational area.
I’m beginning to wonder if we are a carrot on a stick, but more like a beer can on a stick attached not to a turtle, but to people who get obliterated during the evening an then like to yell about it in the early morning.
Aside: Strangely, I was almost more upset that their indecipherable conversation was drowning out the Ellie Goulding song “Love Me Like You Do,” that blasted from the far off discotech.
Day 2: July 25th
The Czech bike paths are the best, they give a completely opposite feel from those in Norway. The Norwegian trails made you feel like a leper or some kind of outcast from society that needs to be hidden away out of sight from the everyday people. Every path that strayed from the road was a penance to be paid for the sin of biking, sending you up insane hillsides where even the pebbles and gravel were loose and eager to get the fuck off the path!
But the Czech trials! The Czech trials make you feel like a badass, as if being on a bike is a key that unlocks a better world. The path strays from the road to take you by photogenic, blown apart, ancient castles, and pristine forests that are all shortcuts so well designed it feels as though you have arrived before you even left. MAGIC!
Day 3: July 26th
After about a month on the bikes we have managed to cycle just over 1,000 km which speaks volumes about our ability to take our time than to any sort of physical or cycling achievement. And that is fine with both of us.
It gives us more time for cultural experiences, like today’s (in the form of a riddle):
You walk into a bar in rural Czech Republic. There are 5 beer taps. 4 of them say “Budweiser,” and one says “Koffola.” You want to order a beer but since you don’t know any Czech you order by pointing. Which tap do you choose?
Seems easy, right! WRONG! I point to one of the Budweiser taps and hold up 2 fingers. The bartender places a mug under the tap and out comes a bright bubbly magenta sugar disguised as liquid. “WHOA!” I yell. The sugar flows to fast to save the mug from the embarrassment of containing soda in a bar, but the exclamation is enough for her to notice that I am renegotiating our original deal. Now, feeling completely betrayed by Budweiser, I order the Koffola. It turns out to be rootbeer. What kind of bar (and make no mistake, this is a full on rural Czech dive bar with 5 patrons all huddled around the taps as if it’s a campfire, all smoking themselves into a fog, none interested in helping or even acknowledging our presence) has 5 taps and two of them are soda pop?!?!?!
Anyway, it’s a hard riddle and we still haven’t solved it yet.
Day 4: July 27th
Yet another night passed with the now customary drunken hooligans.
The broken sleep had not-so-subtle effects on our 30 km ride that at times felt like the second embarking of The Endurance (the Antarctic exploring ship).
But all was forgotten when we descended into the medieval town of Cesky Krumlov and its fully functional bear moat.
BEAR MOAT!
This town is incredible. It feels more like a medieval town doing a re-enactment of 21st century tourism than the reverse.
Choirs randomly pop out of 3rd story windows on all sides of the street to regale you with the biggest Publisher’s Clearing House check of the times, Jesus’ acceptance.
Oh, and did I mention the bear moat! With live bears! Bear-ly legal! … its gotta be.
Austria Report
Day 1: July 28th
Every morning I wake up and look at my bike lying on the ground; its bags haphazardly strewn about and I say, “Pull yourself together man!”
But it never does. And so, I thanklessly perform the ritual – uprighting and dressing of the bike.
We woke up just outside of Linz, angrier at each other than at any other time in our lives.
It seems Maximum Romance took a vacation from our vacation. I think they call that inception.
Given time things will right themselves and the beauty and ease of the Donau Cycle Route makes that process easier.
Just like when you hit the shifter too hard and the chain flies off the gears, initially the betrayal of the once fluid mechanics of the bike is sharp and it’s easy to question the whether it’s a systemic problem that will keep occurring. But it only takes a dirty, greasy moment to put the chain back on the gear, check its tolerance and the in the future treat it a little more carefully.
My chain fell off in a preparatory ride for the trip back in May and over 1,000 miles later – it’s still on there, good as new.
Aside: We rode into Linz, the birthplace of one of Western music’s greatest composers –Mozart. I farted a fart of great tonal quality and it sounded better than a lot of the farts I’ve had. That one’s for you, Mozart. Maybe there’s just something about Linz.
Maximum Romance 