A start

All bicycle journeys start with a first pedalstroke. And after thinking way too long, I realised blogs just start with a first post.

I've left from the province of Brabant on the 24th of June. I was already planning on taking a new bicycle on this trip, and getting my old touring bicycle stolen a couple of months before made certain that I would use the new one. The bike is a Surly Bridge Club, and I've built it up to be a hybrid between a classic touring bicycle and a newfangled bikepacking bike, althoug more the former than the latter. If we're being very practical: it has 90s MTB geometry, beefy tubes, classic touring tubus rear rack with panniers, soft bags and a framebag up front.

Mostly because of enthusiasm, I decided to make all bags myself on short notice. Hindsight tells me this was not the wisest idea I've had in my life. But so far the bags have been holding up nicely, and it does bring me some pride and joy knowing that I've made them myself.

The very first days

I've left the province of Brabant, as said earlier, on the 24th of June. I left with a hell of a lot of excitement for the trip that I had planned. My first real destination with a purpose will be to reach Italy, where I'll hopefully meet some friends, and have a rather special friend accompany me for a month per bike.

Within a day I reached Limburg, with its beautiful landscapes and hills. Apparently, and I was often reminded by the province's inhabitants, I just missed the road biking championships by a day.

On the second day I traveled to the "drielandenpunt", a widely known place where the borders of Belgium, Germany, and the Netherlands converge. I snapped a quick picture, and left for Germany, where I wanted to cycle through the black forest. As a bonus, I would also be seeing the Eifel, the Hunsrucke, a bit of French countryside and the Vosges. Germany was as nice as I remembered, although on earlier trips I've entered germany further northward. Now I quickly cycled into the Eifel. And so I was met with beautiful forests and some serious hills.

Now I know from previous trips that somewhere along the second or third day I'm not really enjoying myself. There's just this single day where you're in the wrong headspace. As always this day passes like the others and you're left without the continuous mental struggle. Happy that I

passed this obligatory stage of the journey again I did wonder why it tends to happen (and if I'm not mistaken I've heard other cyclotourists talk about it as well). I've arrived at a completely unfounded hypothesis, based on a morale-boosting banana (and I mean, it reaaally made me feel a lot better) eaten somewhere in Belgium on my way to Limburg: could it be that (1) your feelings are greatly influenced by how well you've fed yourself, or how well you're maintaining the nutrients needed for exercise in your bloodstream? And (2) could it be that if you're embarking on a long journey with loads of physical activity, that your body has to increase the amount of fat it is burning relative to the amount of sugars that are not intermittently converted into fat? This assumes that changing this ratio is a slow process.

Now I'm pretty certain (from personal experience) that (1) is true. But am completely unsure about (2).

Right, intermezzo over. As the days continued some small mishaps occurred here and there. Nothing too serious, just some stuff I'll have to fix permanently somewhere in Italy. For now I can't really afford to take a day or two off, as I'm on somewhat of a tight schedule to be in Italy on time.

Getting into things

As the Eifel made place for the Hunsruck, I became accustomed to bicycle travel again. Managing food and water, maintaining the bike at appropriate intervals, and finding a place to sleep all became familiar again. And I was similarly reminded of the tricks I have to keep my ass in the saddle in order to actually travel a kilometer or two. Otherwise I'd just be sitting on benches and staring at trees all the time.

About that subject: this is the first time I'm traveling with a leather saddle. I've ridden it for about 800 kilometers commuting before I left on this journey. It is now, after approximately 1200 kilometers, that I feel it has broken in properly. Now my bottom isn't exactly feeling like it has had a spa treatment. Likewise the saddle has not magically become soft; it is still a rather hard piece of leather. But at least I'm able to comfortably ride in it for hours on end. This is quite a remarkable difference from the other saddles I've ridden on earlier journeys, where sitting down was truly painful for a couple of days in the first week. This might just've been the best thing I bought for myself for this trip.

I distinctly remember popping out of the forest to one side of the Mosel, descending through vineyards with a huge bridge over the river, to climb out on the other side again.

While I was getting accustomed to things, and since I had been traveling on quite a few forest roads already, I decided to give "bikepacking", as opposed to the classic "touring cycling", a proper try. As I was near Kirn, I downloaded a segment of the "European Divide Trail" on my phone and headed off into the forests.

Bikepacking, as defined by a single small piece of one trail (out of many) I've been riding for a handful of days, has been quite an interesting experience so far. It felt like I've been cycling through forest for days on end. It is very relaxing for the mind, as there are no cars to look out for, and you can take a break anywhere you would like. There are also surprisingly few people here in the forests. I would've expected a lot more mountainbikers and hikers out here.

It is quite a workout though! Quite understandably the routes where the gradients are small are reserved for motorised traffic, and so these bikepacking routes through the forest will generally see more differences in elevation. I was also surprised by the degree in which road surfaces influence the speed at which you're traveling. Hard-packed sand or gravel rolls quite well, but moving through a surface layer of loose sand takes quite some effort. Likewise if the road is covered in a fresh batch of rocks you can't exactly roll fast either.

And so it has been a bit more strenuous and slower-paced than usual. But I've been enjoying myself immensely! Perhaps the biggest downside so far (after two or three days of trying this out, so this might change in the future) is that I didn't meet a whole lot of people yet. It seems like this way of traveling is a nice option to consider next time I'm planning a segment of my route.

The journey ahead

I'll be short, as I want to get on my bike now and typing this takes more time than I thought it would.

I kept following the European Divide Trail into the Vosges du Nord. I'll be spending a single day in France (hence: I'll be buying some proper bread!) mostly along the "Canal de la Marne au Rhin". That'll be easy rolling into Strasbourg. From there I'm looking forward to trying some more off-road riding into Switserland.