|
Dresden The morning started on a smooth road. In a couple of kilometers I managed to pick up a sharp piece of brown glass that sliced through my tire and pricked my tube. Wouldn't want to go more than two days in a row without a puncture. It was the rear, so I had to unload the entire rear rack as well as the two rear panniers. Then I wiggled the quick release past the fresh oil I had just put on my chain this morning. Arran and Rebecca phoned New Zealand. Arran was hoping to talk to everyone, but only his mom was home. His dad was at a conference in Australia. His sister was off working on her master's thesis. His mom declared no one could talk to her right now. She was so wrapped up in technical thinking and jargon. Arran told his mom they had been camping in forests and his mom expressed they should not do that in Poland. He didn't tell her we had slept in a bus shelter. We had been getting fairly early rises and then bumping along all day over rough roads plus carrying a lot of weight in food. Arran commented he was feeling a little tired. His mom admonished, "You better take it easy. Get plenty of rest. Don't overextend yourself." Arran wasn't as cheery when he hung up the phone. Rebecca was next. She phoned her co-author. She learned there were problems with proofreading the part on earthquakes. Her co-author was a specialist on volcanoes, and although the earthquake part sounded good to him, he gave it to another guy who was an earthquake specialist. That guy returned it saying, "I can't read this; it's all wrong." So, we had two temporarily downtrodden blue Kiwis on our hands after their uplifting calls home. The phone calls home had given them a serious case of homesickness that persisted for the rest of the day. Arran's mom was specific, "Only thirteen weeks to go and you'll be home. The daffodils are just starting to bloom. It's getting warmer." Just what they needed to hear when they already knew their trip was rapidly coming to a close and the weather was getting colder here. The scenery (or lack of it) of flat farm fields continued. Plowed fields added the only variation to the landscape. Saw a heavy-duty tractor pulling both discs and harrows at the same time. Some fields grew corn, others sprouted potatoes, still others swelled with wilted sunflowers for as far as the eye could see. The sunflowers would have been a splendid sight if not for having been struck by frost. Now brown and half-dead, their bountiful heads sagged to their chests. High lookout platforms were in the fields along the road. I wondered if they shot the filching crows? We certainly hadn't seen or heard many birds. Not many insects either, other than the vulturous yellow jackets that moved in on my meal without the slightest hesitation. The wasps were particularly disturbing when they landed and crawled on me. Apple trees lined roadsides. We picked a few to eat and made some into baked apple dessert. Today we noticed the first plum trees. Most plums were still green, but some were ripe and tasty. Later in the day, as we rode past plum trees, I reached out my hand and snatched fruit off. One time I snagged two at once. Drive by fruiting. We followed the Elbe River, hugging its bank. One stretch was technically closed to traffic, but we bounced our way past the construction workers and heavy equipment. The Elbe River, high from the recent rains, flooded trees along its banks. Vineyards filled the Elbe River valley. The majority were white grapes, but we also saw a few red grapes. I finally saw grapes still growing on the vine. In France we passed thousands of vineyards but they had all been harvested. Here the grapes were still hanging in huge bunches. In Meissen, on the opposite side of the river, an impressive double-spired church topped a knoll. The roads from Meissen to Dresden were busy and brutal. It was six-thirty pm and we were still fifteen kilometers outside Dresden. I wanted to camp, but the group decision was: Ride through now. They decided it would probably be less busy in the evening than the morning. The road turned to smooth cobbles (whatever that may be), then rougher cobbles, then trolley lines crissed the streets with live yellow trolleys going off in all directions. I was careful to cross the lines as perpendicular as possible. Even at night Dresden was beautiful. Downtown harbored impressive old architecture. The city was just beginning to rebuild since the bombing from World War II. Construction appeared to be everywhere. In World War II days, Dresden was primarily a civilian center. After Allied victory appeared certain, near the end of the war Dresden was brutally bombed. Dresden stood as testament atrocities were committed by both sides during the war. Instead of demoralizing the German population as planned, it just made them made. Now, Dresden was headquarters for a growing contingent of neo-Nazis. Sharon said I was lollygagging. I stubbornly insisted on riding with my brakes adjusted too tight. My wheel barely turns when I spun it by hand. I need the challenge. In camp at night however, I am an exhausted zombie. |
|
|
Book Info