Respekt...! (Cheb, Czech Republic)

The lovely campsite in Lichtenfels, just on the banks of the river Main.

I still don't know how I did it, but somehow I did manage to get to this side of the Czech border...although only just. Am now in the town of Cheb (Eger in German), barely 10 km into this land that I have never visited before. It was another day of amazing physical achievements, breathtaking (both literally and figuratively speaking!) scenery and good moods.

In the morning, waking up at the lovely, tree/shaded campsite by the peacefully flowing Main river, I felt more than a little bit reluctant to pack up and head out into another day of endless cycling. The wind, that seemed to have picked up velocity and fierceness, remained from the East, that is, exactly from where I was going. It did not bother me too much in terms of irritation (to be fair, I have had very good luck with wind until now!), but it did slow down the progress considerably. This was most evident on the flat, open stretches (that there were plenty of!), as the front panniers seemed to catch each gust, making the speed excruciatingly slow. When, at noon, I realised that I had only managed to cover about 35 km in about 3 hours, I started to doubt if there really was any chance of even reaching the border, not to mention getting anywhere beyond it, still today.

Another thing that was making me nervous were the steep climbs that were marked on the map by arrows. Generally, hills will not be assigned this sign unless the climb exceeds 6 % or is particularly long, although this does not mean that short, steeper hills are always marked with it either. So, if there is an arrow (pointing the way I am going), I can be pretty sure it means some strenuous, and sustained, climbing. As a matter of fact, after my experiences fighting those arrows a couple of days ago, I actually spent yesterday dodging them, even if it meant lengthy detours!

Still, there was no way around it: if I wanted to get to the border, I would have to get on the other side of those arrows. Heading out of Bad Berneck, I knew that the climb would begin, and actually felt relieved to be finally facing whatever it was that I had to do. The first part, to Bichofsgrun, was a sustained but pretty gentle climb of 8 km, and I could manage it without even falling out of breath or having to stand on the pedals. But all along I knew that it was only later that the climb would really start.

Heading for the Big Hill (looming in the background). To reach it, I first had to ride all the way down to the gorge. And then it just went up, up and up...

Had a huge piece of cake in Bichofsgrun, gulped a few times, and set out. From the onset, it was obvious that this really was going to be extreme. Several people, when I asked for directions, looked at me a little bit weird and said "respekt", as if I really was going to do something not usually expected of tourists. And indeed, just heading out of the town and into the mountains almost made me lose courage: the first hill was enormous, and it just went on and on and on.

Crossing into the "danger zone"...?

But somehow, I did get to the top of it. And the next one, and the one after that. The most interesting part came, when somewhere inside the forest I came into a crossing where a line had been spread accross the track stating that it was "Lebensgefahr" to cross it. (Lebensgefahr translates roughly into "life/threateningly dangerous). As I had already come such a long way and could see no imminent danger on the other side of the line, I just took one last look around and decided to go anyway. The line was marked to belong to the forestry services, so I assumed it referred to ongoing tree felling taking place. However, by now it was already almost 6 pm and there would not be any foresters felling trees at this hour!

So, I pushed the bike under the line and deeper into the forest. The road was just a logging track by now, and there was nobody else around for the next kilometres. After the initial climb, the road passed crest of the ridge, and I had a wonderful, although sligthly scary, downhill ride on the gravel road that was obviously very little used. At this point (only!) did it occur to me that it might have been a good idea to let somebody know where I was going, as if I had an accident here, it would certainly be a while before anybody came along!

Inside the forest, where nobody would find me should something go wrong. Notice the drop ahead!

Now I just had to be really careful, and that I was. The adrenaline was literally thumping in my ears, as the gravel growled under the wheels in the otherwise silent forest. After a while, I came out into a clearing, and could see that I had reached a different valley altogether. It was almost as if I had entered into a different world too, as this one had a distict upcountry feel to it. Surprisingly, all the slopes and hills and levelled out too, and I did not really had to climb any steep hills after that.

The rest of the way to the border actually went much more easily than I had expected, and when at half past seven I saw a sign telling it was only 19 km to this town, I realised I would actually make it to Czech Republic after all. Still, the last kms were not easy, and by the time I rode in I realised I was getting quite tired. FOund a very inexpensive Pension right on the main street, and without even looking for another option, checked in. Sure, the room smells a bit funny and there are holes in the sheets, but the girl at the reception is nice and lets me use her computer to type this. Have had a takeaway meal of a hamburger and some potato croquets, now will be hitting the sack.

By now, it is clear that I cannot make it to Prague tomorrow if I am to stick to cycling. Thus have decided to head for the biggest town on the way instead, and catch a train from there for the remaining 90 or so km. Sure, it means that I will not have covered the whole journey by bike, but after all, who cares?