With our class on Faust all wrapped up, it was time to go on Block Break. We set out to create our own European version of the classic CC tradition. Various members of our class planned out different adventures – including local excursions around the Niedersachsen area as well as a trip up to the Nordsee.

The trip I went on started as a discussion of about six different options – it seemed like there were simply too many beautiful places to see. Should we go see the mountains of Bavaria? Or try to visit other CC students in Denmark? Hmm…

We finally opted to take the train North to Timmendorfer Strand – a beautiful beach on the Baltic near Lübeck. It would be a quick and inexpensive train ride from Lüneburg, and it would provide us with a beautiful environment in which to finish up our final papers.

The plan got even sweeter when I realized that some of us could bike there. Google Maps claimed we could follow the Lübeck-Elbe canal all the way to Lübeck, and then take the road from there to Timmendorfer Strand. Meanwhile, those of us not biking could take some of our stuff up to Timmendorfer Strand on the train. Perfect. My host parents hooked us up with bikes, tools, and some incredibly helpful paper maps (Danke Fite und Sibylle!), and then we hit the road. Turner, Bella, and I biked, while Izzy, Ethan, and Kai took the train, planning on meeting us at our hotel in Timmendorfer Strand.

Google Maps said Timmendorfer Strand was about 100km (62 miles) away from Lüneburg. We initially thought this would be a mostly paved road. A combination of bad weather and navigational errors quickly turned the trip into over 70 miles of primarily muddy, rocky, and rutted dirt road, which slowed our skinny-tired touring bikes down a lot. It also didn’t help that it had suddenly started raining sideways at the exact moment when we were the most lost.

The good news was that the ride was still absolutely beautiful – consistently beautiful for an entire 70 miles, no less. We cruised for hours across farmland, past barges in the canal, and by forests and ponds. As we rode, we got to meet a few other people braving the weather and poor conditions while doing similar bike tours along the canal. There was something quite comforting about seeing other people attempting similarly ridiculous adventures.

About three hours into the ride, we hit that beautiful point that exists somewhere in the intersection of endorphin levels and calorie depravation. Everything is funny and your muscles don’t hurt anymore, but it’s also pretty hard to function well enough to read a map. Luckily, we somehow managed not to get lost more than a few more times. We got to Timmendorfer Strand a little before sunset and were greeted by wonderful friends and a beautiful beach glowing orange in the evening light.

Staying in Timmendorfer for the next few days was obviously a delight in itself, but I’ll leave that for another blog post.

A Few Thoughts on Germany and Bike Touring

In the US, bikes are typically viewed as toys. They exist for exercise and entertainment, and for the most part, nothing else. As a mountain bike racer, I’ve often fallen into this way of thought – the bicycle is either the catalyst of your adrenaline rush, or the equipment you use to beat your competitors. In Germany, bikes are appreciated much more as a utilitarian tool. Bikes are viewed as an efficient, useful, and economical way to travel. The culture of bike touring in Europe seems to stem directly from this attitude – you’re getting from point A to point B in the most energy-efficient, self-reliant way possible, and if you’re as lucky as us, you’re enjoying the journey as much as the destination.

Additionally, this trip was a great way for us to see Northern Germany on our own terms. The speed you go on a bike when cruising across rustic European farmland is the perfect for truly appreciating the landscape and your surroundings – you move fast enough to cover a lot of ground, but just slow enough to really take everything in. And relying solely on your own power to get to your destination just makes your eventual tired and soggy arrival all the more meaningful.