I left my adopted Austrian family feeling rested, and I headed to the grocery store for a few items after getting turned around looking for the cycle path. I bought a bunch of bueno bars, cookies, bananas, and what I thought was a yogurt drink, but it turned out to be a cup-shaped thick yogurt instead, and I didn't have a spoon. I awkwardly tried to squeeze the plastic cup into my mouth like a neanderthal and ended up getting yogurt all over myself and in my pannier too. Just as I was cleaning the goop off of everything with the thrift store sweater that I bought in Budweis, a man approached me in my disheveled state asking me about my trip. He was tall with glasses and had a bicycle and was dressed head-to-toe in black spandex. I was a mess. He asked me questions about my trip and where I was going and soon asked if I minded if he joined me. Sure, I said. And he showed me the way to the path and we started riding.
In some ways on the trip, I feel like saying, "hey, it's a free country as far as I know, ride where you want," and that was sort of my attitude here. I did not consider that this leggy guy with a light bicycle who regularly biked in the hills leading up to the Alps would make me work hard. I was able to keep pace with my bike that was loaded down with a bunch of snacks now. We drove hard up hills leading to Burghausen, Germany, and I knew from my map that there was going to be a climb from Braunau to Salzburg, which is partially why I decided to stop in Braunau originally.
We stopped on the way to Burghausen to see where the Inn and Salzach Rivers meet.
He told me he wanted to learn more English, and I was helping him with phrases. We left this scenic overlook and started the rest of the climb to Burghausen. I had been to Burghausen at night with Monika two days ago, and this was the first time I was able to see it in the daylight. It is impressively large. I offered him some gummi bears, but he was reluctant to eat them because he was avoiding sugar. He couldn't remember the English word for sugar, so I told him it. He asked me which songs had the words 'sugar.' The first one I thought of was "Brown Sugar" by the Rolling Stones. No, no, not that one. And then I started seeing "
Honey, Sugar, Sugar" by the Archies. He complimented me on my singing. I bet he never forgets the word sugar again. We had fun singing along the way. American music serves as the healing salve and connection between me and people of other cultures, especially those who detest American policy.
We rode over across the river through town but didn't visit the castle. We decided to keep riding. My new friend suggested that we try riding along the German side of the Salzach River. My map was tucked in my bag and even though I knew I was supposed to ride on the Austrian side according to the
book, but I decided to just go for the ride. We passed under this archway warning pedestrians to be careful in the streets because they might die. It was appropriate advice for us too.
We started along the river, and everything was going okay for a while until we reached a part where it was impassable. We were miles from a visible bridge and attempted to ride along the street along side of the river until we had nothing to ride on. We then chose to walk our bicycles up a hiking path that aimed straight up for what seemed like meters and meters. He even joked that it seemed like we were in the Alps already. We hiked and hiked and hiked without seeing the top of the hill. Thomas switched bicycles with me early on and was hauling my best of the hill. Eventually, we heard traffic. I feel like we were hiking up the hill for an hour at least.
Though he had refused to eat any candy or cookies before because he was avoiding sugar, he did help himself after we saw our first street at the top of this mountain. He apologized profusely for leading me this way, kidding that maybe I shouldn't have brought him along after all. I kid that we were having an adventurous day and that it was okay. We were able to ride along fine to Tittmoning where we said we would get a drink and split ways. When we were in Tittmoning, we were standing with our bicycles when Thomas suddenly fell against his bicycle and tumbled onto the ground. He was the male version of me. We had done this intense hike, and he had fallen when we were on flat ground going zero miles per hour.
He was okay, thankfully. We rode over to the centrum and bought some drinks and finally looked at the map. I recommended that he take the Austrian side of Salzach back home. He thought it was funny that the foreigner was giving advice to the native Austrian. The day was ringing with irony. We found the bridge leading to the Austrian side of the river, and he started sprinting ahead for some reason, missing where we had to turn to follow the river. I sprinted after him and got him to turn around. He was having a day. We rode along the Salzach some before we started riding in two different directions along the river.
He didn't think that I could reach Salzburg, but he thought that I could reach Laufen. That was actually a good estimate that gave some credence to my abilities because I had to huff it there. It was starting to get dark by the time I had reached Oberndorf, Austria, which was across the river from Laufen. The path along the river had great signage that listed the lodging available at each junction on the path. It was easy to decide how far to keep going. I wanted to see signs of the Alps for the first time in my life.
I had enough of a charge in my phone to navigate to the campground located on the Abtsdorfer See. On my last long stretch to the campground, I finally saw it from a distance shrouded by some clouds.
There they were. The Alps. It was about to get fun, or hard, or both.
I left my adopted Austrian family feeling rested, and I headed to the grocery store for a few items after getting turned around looking for the cycle path. I bought a bunch of bueno bars, cookies, bananas, and what I thought was a yogurt drink, but it turned out to be a cup-shaped thick yogurt instead, and I didn't have a spoon. I awkwardly tried to squeeze the plastic cup into my mouth like a neanderthal and ended up getting yogurt all over myself and in my pannier too. Just as I was cleaning the goop off of everything with the thrift store sweater that I bought in Budweis, a man approached me in my disheveled state asking me about my trip. He was tall with glasses and had a bicycle and was dressed head-to-toe in black spandex. I was a mess. He asked me questions about my trip and where I was going and soon asked if I minded if he joined me. Sure, I said. And he showed me the way to the path and we started riding.
In some ways on the trip, I feel like saying, "hey, it's a free country as far as I know, ride where you want," and that was sort of my attitude here. I did not consider that this leggy guy with a light bicycle who regularly biked in the hills leading up to the Alps would make me work hard. I was able to keep pace with my bike that was loaded down with a bunch of snacks now. We drove hard up hills leading to Burghausen, Germany, and I knew from my map that there was going to be a climb from Braunau to Salzburg, which is partially why I decided to stop in Braunau originally.
We stopped on the way to Burghausen to see where the Inn and Salzach Rivers meet.
He told me he wanted to learn more English, and I was helping him with phrases. We left this scenic overlook and started the rest of the climb to Burghausen. I had been to Burghausen at night with Monika two days ago, and this was the first time I was able to see it in the daylight. It is impressively large. I offered him some gummi bears, but he was reluctant to eat them because he was avoiding sugar. He couldn't remember the English word for sugar, so I told him it. He asked me which songs had the words 'sugar.' The first one I thought of was "Brown Sugar" by the Rolling Stones. No, no, not that one. And then I started seeing "Honey, Sugar, Sugar" by the Archies. He complimented me on my singing. I bet he never forgets the word sugar again. We had fun singing along the way. American music serves as the healing salve and connection between me and people of other cultures, especially those who detest American policy.
We rode over across the river through town but didn't visit the castle. We decided to keep riding. My new friend suggested that we try riding along the German side of the Salzach River. My map was tucked in my bag and even though I knew I was supposed to ride on the Austrian side according to the book, but I decided to just go for the ride. We passed under this archway warning pedestrians to be careful in the streets because they might die. It was appropriate advice for us too.
We started along the river, and everything was going okay for a while until we reached a part where it was impassable. We were miles from a visible bridge and attempted to ride along the street along side of the river until we had nothing to ride on. We then chose to walk our bicycles up a hiking path that aimed straight up for what seemed like meters and meters. He even joked that it seemed like we were in the Alps already. We hiked and hiked and hiked without seeing the top of the hill. Thomas switched bicycles with me early on and was hauling my best of the hill. Eventually, we heard traffic. I feel like we were hiking up the hill for an hour at least.
Though he had refused to eat any candy or cookies before because he was avoiding sugar, he did help himself after we saw our first street at the top of this mountain. He apologized profusely for leading me this way, kidding that maybe I shouldn't have brought him along after all. I kid that we were having an adventurous day and that it was okay. We were able to ride along fine to Tittmoning where we said we would get a drink and split ways. When we were in Tittmoning, we were standing with our bicycles when Thomas suddenly fell against his bicycle and tumbled onto the ground. He was the male version of me. We had done this intense hike, and he had fallen when we were on flat ground going zero miles per hour.
He was okay, thankfully. We rode over to the centrum and bought some drinks and finally looked at the map. I recommended that he take the Austrian side of Salzach back home. He thought it was funny that the foreigner was giving advice to the native Austrian. The day was ringing with irony. We found the bridge leading to the Austrian side of the river, and he started sprinting ahead for some reason, missing where we had to turn to follow the river. I sprinted after him and got him to turn around. He was having a day. We rode along the Salzach some before we started riding in two different directions along the river.
He didn't think that I could reach Salzburg, but he thought that I could reach Laufen. That was actually a good estimate that gave some credence to my abilities because I had to huff it there. It was starting to get dark by the time I had reached Oberndorf, Austria, which was across the river from Laufen. The path along the river had great signage that listed the lodging available at each junction on the path. It was easy to decide how far to keep going. I wanted to see signs of the Alps for the first time in my life.
I had enough of a charge in my phone to navigate to the campground located on the Abtsdorfer See. On my last long stretch to the campground, I finally saw it from a distance shrouded by some clouds.
There they were. The Alps. It was about to get fun, or hard, or both.
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