Europe 2013: Have Tailwind, Will Travel

September 2, 2013

I returned from my jaunt out to the lake last night (ever mindful of the 8 pm closing-time of the gate) to discover that I had new tent-neighbors. On closer examination, I discovered they came from Poland. One was a motorcycle rider, the other a bicycle rider. I said hello, but otherwise we didn't interact much last night.

This morning, inspired by my Polish motorcycle neighbor, I oiled up and adjusted my shiny new chain (it requiring a bit more adjusting than I expected, but maybe it had a little bit of settling in after the Nuerburgring, or maybe the shop left it a little looser than the spec calls for). We got to talking in more or less broken German, and it evolved that he was out for a week-long jaunt down through the Alps. He looked like he was about 17. I showed him my map, with the line drawn showing everywhere I've been, and he was so impressed he asked to take a picture of it.

I also had a relatively leisurely breakfast and didn't rush packing up camp for once: with only 3 hours between me and Vienna, I was enjoying having a day where I wasn't feeling a pressed for time, for once. It was quite pleasant.

I also took a few moments to study the map, which was a fine idea, as I was able to head off the GPS's very efficiently, but probably less scenic plans, at the pass. That is, there are three roads which go more or less directly from Linz to Vienna: the north-of-the-Donau B road, the south-of-the-Donau B road, and the freeway. I wasn't worried about the freeway, but the northern road clearly went right along the river, while the southern road was far from the river. I figured I'd get a much more scenic ride on the northern road, so I ignored the GPS's advice at first, and rode back toward Linz. The campsite was maybe 10 km south, making the southern road the obvious choice.

I am pleased with my choice. Obviously I don't know what would have happened had I taken the southern road, but I was rewarded with a number of excellent sights. I was also rewarded with a speed limit almost entirely set at 70 km/h due to riding through towns, but it seemed like a good trade-off. Each little town was nestled into the few hundred meters between the bank of the river, and the sharply sloped hill, with the occasional line of houses, or castle, looming over everything where the right kind of hill was available. The road was, I think, frequently built out over the river itself, rather than wasting land on a mere thoroughfare.

Through this stretch, the Donau was wide and smooth and green. There were frequently houses sloping down all the way to the water's edge, and I couldn't help noticing that in many of the spots, the road must be completely under water with any amount of flooding. There was frequently less than 6 feet between the level of the river, and the road. There was bad flooding earlier this year, particularly in Passau (which I'd gone through yesterday afternoon), but I saw not one sign of it. I guess they're pretty good at dealing with the floods by now.

Austria continues to be very pastoral and green and pretty. I haven't really hit the Alps yet, but I expect that when I do, I'll start singing inside my helmet about hills, and their aliveness to the sound of music.

I stopped for fuel once, more out of a desire to not be sitting on the seat than any other reason (I was scheduled to arrive in Vienna at about 210 km on the trip odometer, which is well within the comfort zone). I was fairly amazed to see over 22 km/l, which translated into 52 and a half MPG. I credit this in part to a light throttle hand, but mostly to a stiff tailwind, which I had all the way from Linz to Vienna. It made my fuel efficiency happy, and I'm sure it also made the wind farmers pretty chipper as well. (Pleased as always to see more wind turbines as I ride along.)

My device directed me off my expected path at one point, and I saw that I was headed to Vienna by way of the Neuwaldegg, whatever that is ("new forest corner" is my best guess). This involved climbing up a fairly hefty set of switchbacks, then rolling through some of the most magical fairyland forest I've ridden through yet, then some switchbacks down, and suddenly I was in the city streets. I belive I've been that way before, as some of it was strangely familiar. Or possibly there's a nearly identical street around Berkeley, which is actually pretty likely.

In any case, navigating the Vienna streets were a bit hectic. Unlike in Hamburg, where the streets are a bit unregulated as far as direction, the streets in Vienna are all over the place, mostly narrow, and require you to travel along street-car tracks (there's an active and very useful street-car system in Vienna), which makes Mr. 2-wheel here fairly nervous. Train tracks in general are a fine way to lose control of a motorcycle, but I was pleased to see that these tracks are very well integrated into the pavement, and I didn't have any trouble.

I did find my winding way through, successfully avoiding the sudden, "Surprise, this is now a left-turn-only lane!" lanes, and figuring out which stop lights actually applied to me, and managed to turn at the right spot, despite the street signs being about two inches high and completely illegible from any distance.

I arrived to find Reinhart and Marta waiting for me (presumably they heard the thunderous bike noises echoing around a bit before I actually hove into view), and they directed me into their driveway. Hugs and kisses all around, and I was inside.

I've been to Vienna twice in the past: once in 1996, when my family did a two-week tour to visit all our European exchange students, and once in 2000, when I came almost on a whim, after a big breakup. Both times were in winter, and particularly in 2000, there was a goodly amount of wandering around in a winter wonderland type of thing going on. It was a deep-freeze here, and everything was very sparkly and pretty, with snow everywhere. Now of course the temperature is in the 20s, and it's a different looking city.

The Neunteufel house looks much as I remember it, which is always a comforting thing. I was introduced to Cori and Jens's son Finn, who was very shy with the new guy around (the big yellow suit probably helped create an emotional distance). I also met the new son Simon (pronounced Zeemohn), who looked at me owlishly from his mother's arms: he's 3 months old. Finn is two-and-a-half, and it didn't take him long before he was running around making loud noises, as two-and-a-half year olds are wont to do. Because I am me, I took some lovely photos.

Almost as soon as I arrived, lunch was served, a delicious vegetable casserole sort of dish, and shortly thereafter some neighbors arrived, whom I had previously met at Cori's wedding a few years go. Much social time, and again, the Viennese accent makes comprehension particularly difficult for me. It's all still German, and if I have a few moments to replay the sounds in my head, I can pick out the key points and translate them into the words as I would speak them. It's a much more difficult task, though. At least I've recently had the experience of being in Hamburg, and thus knowing that I can still speak and understand "my" kind of German.

Finn and I played a helicopter game, where I would make thup-thup noises, and fly a Duplo helicopter (piloted, very specifically, by a black Duplo cat figure) around after him, and he would run, screaming delightedly, around the room, until he stopped, and I would gently land the helicopter on his head. The he'd shove the copter back at me, and we'd start over again.

Life is hard for a two-and-a-half year old, though, and despite clearly needing a nap, he refused to take one. I could see this obstinacy was getting him nowhere, but we need to learn these things for ourselves, I suppose. I for one am very glad to recognize the need for a nap, and lay my tired head down when necessary. Doesn't make it any better when I have to stay awake for whatever ridiculous reason, like having to pilot a motorcycle around. Silly adult problems.

Dinner came shortly thereafter, again delicious, and now it is nearly time for the laying-down of one's weary head, as aforementioned. It's great to see everyone again, and meet the new (very new, in some cases) faces. Tomorrow, we're talking about going to Weitra, where Reinhart and Marta have what sounds to me like a summer home that just happens to be in the region of 500 years old, with a castle in the back yard. The next day is my day to wander Vienna and ponder new-old cellos in shop windows, and think about Mozart, and generally drink it all in.

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Created by Ian Johnston. Questions? Please mail me at reaper at obairlann dot net.