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House of the Rising Sun Our time in Pegnitz was spent pursuing mainly sedentary activities-eating, reading, sleeping and television watching. It was great to be with Murray and Sherry. We were finally with people who slept more than we did. One had to feel superior about something. Sharon was particularly enjoying warm beds and hot showers. Maybe we were getting a tad too comfortable. I was sure our inactivity was all well and fine until the time came to climb back on our bikes. During our stay we visited Nuremberg, Bamberg and the US Forcesberg where we attempted to catch up on all the American food we had been craving. I thought Sherry was worse than we were! That girl needed her tacos. How was she ever going to survive six months in Germany!? Marcus, his family and Icky were wonderful hosts. We would be hard pressed to find more upbeat folks. Icky kept inviting us to their wedding. It was tempting. We knew it would be great fun, but the weather wasn't getting any warmer. "Snow at 900 meters," Marcus had informed us. The leaves were changing and the weather felt as if snow couldn't be far behind. We decided it was time to hit the trail and readied Sherry's bike. She was planning on accompanying us for two weeks. Using the host family book we had received from Kai I phoned a family in Forchheim and asked if we could stay with them the following night. I was nervous. When a man answered the ringing phone I asked him: "Sprechen sie Deutsche?" The answer immediately zinged back, "Ya." Luckily, he also spoke English and I was able to secure our lodgings. We eagerly anticipated what it would be like to stay with a host family. All systems were go. After two weeks of inclement weather-fog, cloud, cold rainy gray days-we lucked out on a magnificent day to start off with Sherry. But first, I rode to the post office to mail my journal, a small packet of postcards and an exposed roll of film. After finding it cost $24 postage for each package I decided to combine them, send them all to Sharon's mom and have her forward the other pieces for me. During our stay in Pegnitz I bought a lighting system from a local bike shop, deciding it was time to become legal since we had known to be out occasionally after dark. And the days were growing shorter. (I had also purchased a pair of waterproof Ortlieb rear panniers in Bayreuth. I planned to use them as gargantuan front panniers.) After valiantly deciphering the German instructions, I installed the generator and headlight, but couldn't get it to work. The morning we wished to depart I arrived at the bike shop and was greeted with a sign stating they wouldn't be open until two thirty. That was the problem with supporting the little guy-he wasn't always there when I needed him. Sharon and Sherry struck off for Forchheim. I planned to catch up later in the team van chauffeured by Murray. I waved forlornly (not for long) as they wobbled off to our night's destination. Murray and I arrived back at the bike shop at two thirty. We were met with a new sign: open at 4:00. Hoo boy. We drove to another bike shop and asked how to install the system. The proprietor didn't speak English. After patiently showing me how to mount the connectors and parts I bought another whole kit from him. I was sure Sharon would be happy to have a light of her own. At 4:00 p.m. the bike shop opened. The mechanic put my bike on the repair stand and after trying a couple of bulbs and still no light the fellow replaced the generator. That fixed the problem, but it was a different brand of generator than I had bought initially and didn't look as heavy duty. I hoped the new one would last the trip. By the time the repairs were finished it was dark. Murray and I headed off to find the girls. The road to Forchheim looked like a splendid ride along the scenic little river. I imagined Sharon and Sherry had had a wonderful day with the fine weather and gentle terrain. Murray and I drove around Forchheim looking for the address of our host family. Eventually we needed more gas. We pulled into a station and reconnoitered the posted map, noting how to get to our address. Slowly driving the length of the street and then back again, we peered through the darkness trying to discern house numbers. They didn't seem to make sense in an orderly North American fashion. I wondered what ambulance drivers did when they were trying to locate an address in a hurry? We parked the van and continued on foot. After wandering up and down the street, we came across an old woman out for a walk. In my best German accent I asked her for the street and house number we were looking for. She shrugged. I repeated my question. "American?" she asked, brightening. "Close enough," I said. She motioned for us to follow and took us to a house on the next street. Pointing a bony finger toward a bungalow she happily took her leave. I didn't think it was the house I was looking for. Knocking on the door I was greeted by an American personnel officer who worked at the nearby base. His wife knew the street we were looking for. It was where we had come from. Fortunately, by the time we returned the old woman was nowhere in sight. A car pulled into a driveway. I said the house number and they pointed next door. We had been so close. Helene, our host mother, was surprised to see two strangers when she opened the door. She only had three beds-and that was after kicking her seven year old daughter out of her nighttime sanctuary. I quickly explained Murray was just dropping me off. She looked relieved and invited us inside. Her two cuteasbuttons children had been tucked into bed moments earlier. They insisted they had to get up and meet the new arrivals. Introducing themselves as Maria and Rita, ages five and seven, they courteously shook our hands. To their delight, in stilted German, we wished them goodnight. Sharon and Sherry were in the kitchen-they had arrived a couple of hours earlier after also having much fun finding the place. "We found a Comet store and bought some food," Sharon said, "then asked directions to our host family's house. They directed us to the train station where we found a huge city map. The street we needed was nowhere on it, but the subdivision was-so we headed there." "Hmmm, even with the street name it still wasn't a piece of cake finding the house," I said. "How did you end up finding it?" "We saw twin girls playing and asked them if they knew the address. They told us to come inside and use their phone. We did, but there was no answer. We had to resort to Plan B." "Plan B?" "Yep. Just as we got back outside, the neighbor and her husband arrived home. They offered to drive one of us to the house we wanted-locate it by car-then return and both Sherry and I would ride there. I was whisked off to find the house. Without the assistance of those kind people Sherry and I would still be looking for Tony and Helene's." "Did you get your light fixed?" Sharon asked. "Yep," I replied, "and I even bought one for you!" "Oh, no!" she cried. "That's the last thing I want! More weight to carry and something else to break." Hmmm. So much for gratitude. Helene served us tea with bread and cheese while I asked the two intrepid explorers how their ride had been. "Well," Sharon said, considering. "Most of the terrain was relatively flat-good for a first day's ride." I nodded, remembering the rolling hills out of Pegnitz. "Once we reached Pottenstein we had a pleasant downstream grade to follow." I nodded again, recalling the narrow valley walls with its many dramatic rock pinnacles along the Wiesant River. "We easily made our way to Gossweinstein admiring the scenery." I was beginning to feel I had missed a great ride. "Gossweinstein was a different story," Sharon continued. "I had been told there was a beautiful cathedral worth seeing there. And it was only a short kilometer off our route-or so we thought. Turning off our main route we were greeted with a sign indicating an eighteen percent grade for 800 meters! Ugh!" she groaned. "That was a workout after months of riding, never mind Sherry's first day in the saddle." I imagined Sherry grunting, huffing and puffing, muttering to herself: "I hate my gel I love my gel I hate my gel." Most of Sherry's luggage consisted of hair care products. Beginners (and even some not so neophyte bicycle tourists) often made the mistake of filling their entire available cargo space. At home it was easy to forget one had to lug every ounce uphill. On the road, reality bit the big one. Sherry was lucky her total baggage was merely my two retired small front panniers. When she was packing, Sharon and I told her: "Everything you bring has to fit inside- including what you happen to be wearing!" It was amazing how much crap one could stuff into two little panniers. I looked at Sherry's tired face and said, "The first day is always the toughest." She nodded, but didn't look convinced. "How was the church?" Murray asked, laughing. "The cathedral was beautiful," Sharon allowed. "Almost worth the climb." "Almost, eh?" Sharon never was too fond of hills. "We went to a castle too," Sherry put in. "It was a typical notched tower structure-very imposing from below-but it proved to be a big disappointment after we paid our money and went inside. We were only allowed access to a couple of rooms in the castle because the owners still lived there. Damn owners. And worst of all, we weren't allowed to climb the tower. It was scheisse (shitty)." I noticed Sherry was picking up German rather well. "Your refusal to pay entrance fees would have been supported by that particular ripoff," Sharon said. "The remainder of the day was less eventful-with the exception of our eighteen percent descent. We ignored the no bicycles sign at the top and flew down with both hands firmly applied to our brakes. Sherry discovered the universal biker preference for downhills as opposed to uphills. Our Gossweinstein climb had taken its toll. As we neared Forchheim we both began to fade and only got our second wind when we saw the sign: Forchheim 3 km." Tony worked for fuchs, a construction company, who had been getting a lot of work from the reunification of Germany. He left the house every morning at five and didn't return home until 8:00 p.m. We visited with him for a short time and then he excused himself to hit the sack. Friends of Helene's came over to play guitars and flutes. We said goodbye to Murray, then Sharon, Sherry and I retired upstairs to our bedroom and were quickly lulled asleep to the strains of The House of the Rising Sun. |
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