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Coming home from the circus school with Eldest Son and JQ.
Apparently this is a highlight of JQ’s week: when I asked her mum if JQ would cycle home with us, she replied “She’s talked about this more than the circus school.”
Who dares drive through the depths of the mystery puddle?
This journey is 98% on traffic free roads or traffic calmed residential streets, otherwise it would be a near nightmare. As it was we delivered JQ bouncing with independence and the achievement of transporting herself home.
She wants to come again next week.
Many thanks to those who answered the questions in the last post: I’ll be working on the Xtracycle (and post how I do) as soon as I can, but that annoying thing called work is encroaching on reality again. It’s a bummer, but there you are. I’m also enjoying getting out on the bike(s) as we’re having a beautiful November right now, and I’ve a couple of other bike-related projects that I’ll tell you about when I have time to write about them.
And my birthday prresent was delivered yesterday…
Mwahahaa…
The Xtracycle is a great bike, but this is the Achilles’ heel. The Free Radical kit doesn’t have an attachment for cantilever brakes, so I had to use a V-brake. As I’m not about to throw away my very good shifter/brake levers to I had to try and fit this little beastie in to make the V-Brake on the back side fit with the cantilever-compatible levers up front. It’s called a Travel Agent, and in theory it reduces the force produced by the levers so that the Xtracycle stops smartly but gently when I pull the lever, instead of locking the back wheel and throwing me over the handlebars. The problem is that it’s a pain to adjust, and usually results in the rear brake being as effective as a bowl of jelly. Usually I end up using the adjuster at the front to get any bite out of the thing at all. So I’m wondering about alternatives. If anyone has any pearls of wisdom in response to these questions, please feel free to comment:
- The point is to reduce the force on the brake blocks/wheel when using cantilever levers. Is there another, less awkward way of doing this, like another piece of kit to fit on the cable?
- Is there a way to fit cantilevers on an Xtracycle?
- There is an adjustable travel agent. Could this mitigate the problem?
- Am I missing the point? Do V-Brakes simply feel soggy compared to Cantilevers?
- And the potentially dumb question: I know it goes against all published wisdom, but what difference would it make if I just used the v-brakes directly from the brake lever, (Especially as it’s on the back of a long heavy bike, not the front) Would it just lock the back wheel?
Riding home with happy boys on the Xtracycle after a long playtime in the next town (The playaground is bigger than in our village). If you haven’t guessed this week was a break from work to be with the boys and fix all the things in the house we’ve not got around to since we moved in summer. I’ll be back next week with details of this and other stuff. Happy cycling and thanks for reading along…
A few months ago Eldest Son decided he wanted to go to the circus school where he can practice dangerous stuff like tightrope walking, trapeze, juggling, and unicycling. As the boys climb up anything to big to throw anyway this seems a natural progression, so we readily agreed. Only one problem: the circus school is 5km away, and starts at 1400 on Thursday afternoon, while Stephan finishes ‘normal’ school at 1305. Of course that’s “Why you need a car”. Or an Xtracycle.
Part one: On a normal day Eldest Son will walk home on his own like most other German children, but that would take too long on Thursdays so he’s Xtracycled across the village. This is already seen as a bit odd by some people, mostly the ones using a 2 tonne SUV to do the same thing. What really annoys them, of course, is that we’re faster.
Part two comes after lunch: Eldest Son on the back of the Xtracycle, Eldest Son’s bike pulled behind at speeds its rear hub probably never managed before. I could haul Eldest Son there and back on the Xtracycle, but the point is that he will be independently mobile, so I prefer him to ride back under his own power. Besides, he’s heavy. Another point where I get funny looks: my son routinely spends two hours in a circus school, then cycles five kilometres home (with uphill sections) and then completes his homework. Can children really survive such gruelling treatment? I sometimes get looks from drivers when we arrive at the circus school, although that may be more to do with the sheer length of the rig.
With Eldest Son dispatched into the circus school, the Xtracycle is transformed from Tow Truck to Stylish Commuter Vehicle for part three: the ride into the centre of town where I catch up on emails and other writing stuff for work in the local library, away from things like telephones and other evil distractions like the internet.
Here’s what Ostfildern considers to be adequate bike parking: five uncovered bike stands outside the town hall, centrepiece of a new town the politicians call a “Showpiece of low impact building” which goes to show that you can generally be sure the truth is about the opposite of what governments tell you. The Town Hall itself is a monolith so surreally and expensively awful it really deserves a blog post of its own. If the Xtracycle looks miffed it’s because it was standing in the cold and rain for two hours while I was in the warm library.
Circus school over, it’s part four: pick up Eldest Son and one of his Friends (Henceforth known as JQ) and ride with them to our village- it saves her mum an extra trip. They ride their own bikes and their bags go on the Xtracycle. As we ride at about 10km/h I don’t notice the difference in weight. I’ve got into trouble in the past for using vehicular cycling when riding with Eldest Son’s friends. Why is this a problem, you ask? Because although vehicular cycling is entirely legal it seems it isn’t well-known in Germany so other parents take a dim view of some of the ways we ride. Especially when I ignore signs like this.
It’s a tough life. JQ and Eldest Son climbing the hill we call ‘the long drag.’ between villages. Some days there’s a vicious headwind here as well. Eldest Son is a speck in the distance, as usual.
Remarkably both did manage to survive the ordeal, and finished their homework. JQ was even heard to say she really enjoyed the ride, and wants to do it again next week.
This is an unusually short post for me, but the German Special Bike Exhibition Blog has just added an entry on the new Terracycle CargoMonster. Even with the Bakfiets I still love the Xtracycle for its flexibility and speed, not least its ability to climb hills faster than an elderly tortoise, so I use it all the time. If I could afford a Terracycle, and get it through some of our narrow local bike lanes I’d be very tempted.
On balance it’s probably best that I can’t: even a German Garage can only take so many bikes…
The 'no bikes' sign we didn't see
In the centre of Düsseldorf is a wide, traffic free promenade which is perfect for cycling . Unfortunately someone has set up a street market and put barriers on the promenade with “No Cycling” signs. This on a major pan-European cycleway. Would they block an Autobahn without giving an alternative route? Worse, the signs point south, so by the time we realise we’re being naughty, we aren’t any more.
Following the band in a village near Düsseldorf
At the southern end of Düsseldorf, we cross the Rhine for the 3rd time, and take the straightest route on the map towards Köln. In the outer suburbs of the city, I fall into conversation with a local who gives the useful information that a triathlon in the city and many of the roads are closed. Sure enough we find people directing traffic, but they are more than helpful and wave us past.
Cities are resolving themselves into a familiar pattern: fields; sudden, nondescript industry; well-heeled centre; industry, sudden fields. Köln is the same: we’re rolling through a picturesque farming village, and suddenly we turn a corner and we’re surrounded by heavy industry. On the plus side the road alongside us is closed for the triathlon, so instead of trucks delivering to the factories, we’re being passed by Lycra-clad triathletes on super-light racing bikes. What we don’t have is a way to the river: it’s blocked by a large complex owned by the Ford motor company.
Eventually we find a gap in the buildings, ride down it, and there is the river. And then as suddenly as it began, the industry stops, and we’re riding through a park on a wide avenues end seeing the first glimpse of Köln cathedral. We ride along the embankment, past houseboats and flanked by more triathletes, under the massive rail bridge, and climb up into the city square. 330 kilometres after leaving Amsterdam, we are in Köln.
Xtra and Köln cathedral
We spend about half an hour in Köln, trying to photograph the cathedral and the bikes together and looking about the square, but I’m a lousy tourist and I want to press on to Bonn. Travis is keen to see the city and have a beer, so he elects to take the train to Bonn and meet us there.
Bridge (fourth Rhine crossing) and Cathedral, before we hit the chaos
The centre of Köln is chaos: along the river people are running back and forth along carefully constructed routes and everywhere there are barriers, along roads and across them, which we have to negotiate. Out of the city all this careful control disappears, and we find ourselves riding along another avenue with people running in different directions each side of us. At this point Alex is riding the Bakfiets, and the sight of him squeezing between runners is quite amusing. At the turning point even that doesn’t work, and in an attempt to avoid hitting a someone, he ends up crossing the checkpoint and triggering the automatic counter. There’s nothing to I can do except follow him, so we become official participants in the Köln 2009 Triathlon, if only for a few seconds.
Alex in the Triathlon
After this, the roads seem rather empty. We follow a wide promenade along the river, and once we’re realised that the signs for the bike route are now red and blue, not blue and yellow, we make good progress, except when we follow a sign saying “Short cut”, which isn’t. Soon after this, we find a sign showing “Köln 18km” and “Bonn 18km”. This is reason enough to stop and eat some celebratory Abendbrot, watching the ships labour their way past.
The short cut that wasn't
Half way
We’re noticing changes. Buildings are gradually changing from the brick of the north to the wide roof eaves I’m more familiar with in the south, and as we approach Bonn, we can see hills silhouetted to the south, reminding us that we’re leaving the flood plains and tomorrow we’ll be in in a land of gorges and steep-sided valleys.
Arriving in Bonn, fifth Rhine crossing
Bonn is roughly half-way between Amsterdam and Stuttgart, and by way of celebration Alex has booked a night in a Youth hostel. To our eyes the Maxx Hostel seems very luxurious, although it’s possible that we’re just ridiculously excited at the prospect of beds and electricity, and even warm showers. After meeting Travis and eating a pizza at a local restaurant I come back to our room early, call Beautiful Wife, play with the lights for a bit, and go to bed. We’ve covered just over 100km today, and we’re half way home: we’re feeling fit and we’re back on schedule. Things are looking up.
Dodgy shot of youth hostel
I don’t know what is wrong at the moment, the work keeps coming. Unfortunately it’s usually annoying stuff like the health insurance asking how much we earn -for the third time this year. So todays post is a photo essay/copout, showing a fairly typical afternoon with the bikes…
Trusty steeds awaiting family. The Bafiets didn’t poop: that’s sand dumped on the drive for some reason. We were going to pick up Eldest Son from Circus School in the next town, so I’m hauling his bike and carrying Youngest Son on the Xtracycle, while Beautiful Wife has a go carrying Middle Son in the Bakfiets.
And away they go. The Bakfiets is heavy so it obviously goes faster than the Xtracycle downhill. That’s my excuse anyway.
Heading home, Middle Son now with me and smallest with Beautiful Wife as the way back is partly uphill. As far as I know there isn’t a single metre of dedicated bike lane in Ostfildern, and this is shared with pedestrians. It also becomes a gravel road in a few metres, but at least we’re away from the traffic to the right. Considering Eldest son has been learning circus skills for the last two hours, including tightrope walking and unicycling, he’s riding well.
The ‘big swing’: one of the best places in the boys current universe, and only accessible by bike or on foot. As an added advantage there are friendly goats to watch in the field alongside. What more could a small boy want? Perhaps a pack of chocolate dips, such as Middle Son is quietly finishing off in the on the swing.
Last part of the ride home on traffic free streets. Riding conditions like these are the reason we could get the bakfiets, as Beautiful Wife is very nervous about using it in traffic. Eldest son is a speck in the distance. Several parents in his school have remarked that he’s pretty fit compared to their kids. I don’t point out the obvious reason why this is: I find it’s not worth the effort.
We had to cross two slightly busy roads, but the journey was direct, straight, and 99% traffic calmed or traffic free . And this is Ostfildern, (“Four wheels good, two wheels baaaad”) so you can bet very little money went into making this happen. Most of the time we were on field roads, although to be fair they were signposted for bikes. A few improvements would be nice, like smooth surfaces on a couple of sections (Gravel is fine as a surface, but why the potholes?) and parhaps a set of lights on the crossings so we can stop traffic instead of having to wait in the centre refuge… sorry, a bit radical for Ostfildern there.
Ah, well. Beautiful wife is getting the hang of the Bakfiets and the boys think it’s the best thing since Christmas, so on balance I’m happy.
Time to fill in the form for the health insurance…
My goodness but its been a week since I wrote anything here.: as you’ve probably gathered it’s been a busy one. This week, Beautiful Wife decided it was time to master the Bakfiets, and that the best way to do this was to go out for the evening with me alongside on the Xtracycle. Even Ostfildern manages to have sufficient cycle lanes to avoid running along a road much, and we followed these to a restaurant in the next town.
Beautiful wife getting used to the Bakfiets.
Her verdict: great bike, but a bit of a pull on hills, and probably not good to ride wearing a short skirt. She also found it awkward to make corners in a hurry. This we discovered when we missed a turning and she had to do a 240 degree turn to fit into the cycle lane. This was in no was due to my bad navigation. Not at all. And the driver of the car following was very nice about waiting for us to manouvre. We made the restaurant comfortably and parked the bikes be the hedge.
Bikes onna date.
They are locked, although it’s not obvious. local bike thieves wouldn’t know that this is, let alone have a market for it, so we felt pretty safe, especially as we were sitting on the other side of the hedge. The meal was punctuated by overheard conversations like this:
“What is that?”
“Is it a bicycle?”
“Can’t be…”
The morning after. Tent still upright.
The weather has improved. This is good news. Even better is that my camera battery survived the storm in the night, wrapped up in a ziplock bag. My shoes didn’t do so well though: despite being wrapped thoroughly in a large rubbish bag, my shoes feel suspiciously heavy and before putting them on I pour enough water out to make a small puddle on the floor. Squelch to the unheated shower hoping that’s not the way the day will continue.
Dyke racing.
We leave a bit earlier than the previous day, in sunshine, and with a strong tail wind. Everything looks great although we all know we’ll probably get at least one soaking by lunchtime. We’re following dykes again. I’m fascinated by these as they are almost unheard of in the south, certainly on this scale. They provide a dual purpose of protection against the river and a flat means of communication between villages, and all we have to do is stay on the top and they bring us where we need to go. Or that’s what we think until the road stops abruptly in a farm. We see a group of walkers appear from behind a woodland, and the path they are using appears to be bikable . More to the point no-one wants to ride against the wind so we manhandle the bikes straight down the bank -I’ll say this for the Bakfiets, it has good brakes- squeeze through a wood, and find ourselves under a signpost for the Rhine bike way. Unfortunately we annoy the walkers who don’t hear the bike bells, and shout at us that we should whistle. That’s a new one.
Soaked again.
We cross flat countryside and roll through small villages with brick built houses which still remind me of the UK. We’ve learned that the showers are short lived, and we’ve been soaked and dried off so many times in three days that no-one even mentions it when a particulairly violent squall hits when we are about a kilometre away from the nearest cover. True to form, the sun emerges straight after the rain and we’re dry in minutes. I suggest to Alex I could have saved myself a shower if I’d known. He grins.
„I’m sharing a tent with you, so I’m glad you didn’t know“
Fair comment.
Blast furnace as village ornament
Duisburg creeps up on us. We’re riding through a picturesque village when we turn a corner and there is a blast furnace at the end of the street. A few kilometres later we reach the river once more and suddenly we’re in one of the centres of German heavy industry. Duisburg exists by an accident of geography. It’s where the Ruhr meets the Rhine.The Ruhr isn’t the biggest tributary of the Rhine, in fact it’s the 6th largest, but when the only option was hordes over some pretty steep hills, it made a handy route across the north of the country. The fact this link also led directly to the longest river in Western Europe, giving access to the sea and the cities to the south was an even greater bon us, so so there has been a harbour in Duisburg since records began, and probably long before. In the 19th century someone a few kilometres along the Rhur noticed that if they dug down a bit, there was lots of coal for the asking. Coal is heavy stuff, so this would have been of limited use, but with a but with a nice big river to take it away on, there was money to be made: the Rhine/Ruhr area became the centre of German heavy industry, and Duisburg, at the junction of the rivers, thrived.
Why Duisburg exists. Rhur meets Rhine.
More recently the city has become known for its enlightened approach to cycling infrastructure, as we cross the Rhine into the city we find ourselves on the sort of infrastructure that you dream about when following narrow painted ‘bike lanes’ through the door zone: segregated from traffic, bright red, wide and clean. Even better, we get a great view of the point where the Rhine and Rhur meet, so we stop for a few minutes to look at the meeting point of these two rivers which have affected the history of Germany so much.
A real bike lane being ignored by Alex.
A few minutes later I lose a foot. Not personally you understand, but from the Bakfiets. I stop to take a photo, and when I lift the stand the foot falls off onto the road. On closer examination it looks like the bolt holding the foot was overtightened and split the rubber. The bike wobbles a bit on its stand without the foot but that’s the only difference, well, that and the fact that for the rest of the journey my progress will be shown by small scratch marks wherever I stop. I’m literally making a mark wherever I go.
Edge of the Rhineland
We get a lot of time to appreciate the infrastructure in Duisburg, mainly because we get lost. I don’t know what it is with cities on this trip, we don’t seem to be able to leave without making a grand tour. After following the road we think is correct for several kilometres, we stop to ask for directions. The pedestrian we meet is helpful and gives detailed advice, but clearly can’t understand the map we’re using, which leaves us none the wiser. Finally after some more asking around we meet a restraunt owner who not only tells us where we are (on the Rhine cycleway) but also how to get out of this maze of streets and south. It doesn’t look promising. We end up on a road bordered by some pretty shabby apartments on one side and a massive steelworks on the other, but then we cross the railway, go through some woodland, and suddenly we’re in fields again. Duisburg has stopped as suddenly as it started.
And out in the fields again... Long way to Düsseldorf though.
However, all this getting lost and then finding the way means it’s now mid-afternoon and we’re a long way north of Düsseldorf, which itself is north of our campsite on the banks of the Rhine. Either we have to ride through one of the biggest cities in Germany in a few hours, or we have to try some wild camping.
