The First Ride

30-Aug-08

This morning, I rode my bike to Bonn. It was, without doubt the best road ride I’ve ever done. I forgot my camera.

Having heard it was possible to bike from Köln to Bonn on bike paths, I decided to wake up early Saturday morning to give it a go. I stretched while eating my granola and yogurt and assembled my gear. I put on my new padded bike tights, undoubtedly the most expensive piece of clothing I wear that I’ll try not to be seen in, and after I regulated my tire pressure, I hit the road. After a few minutes I was on the bike path and after a few kilometers I was out of the city.

Riding a bike early in the morning is a fantastic sensation. Your legs feel fresh and powerful, the air is crisp and calm, and the fluid clicking of the chain and sprockets is relaxing and exciting at the same time. After a few kilometers of weaving with the paved path along the Rhine, it opened up to fast fields of grass and corn that appeared infinite because of the heavy fog. Visibility dropped drastically but was mostly restored when I took my sunglasses off. I sped down the path taking in all of the scenery. The fields, the river, the slow barges. It was all so picturesque.

The path to Bonn on the east side of the Rhine is a daisy chain of quaint small towns linked with wide open bike roads. At that time in the morning, the first town was asleep but as the kilometers and minutes ticked past, I saw the typical German town awaken in a sort of quasi stop motion animation sort of way. The early birds walked their dogs. The gardeners prune their shrubberies. The bakeries erect their canopies. The towns folk return home with fresh bread and sunflowers in their bike baskets. It was as if I had biked back in history or into another world. It was exactly what I would have expected to see in a small German town, and I was really surprised. I asked a couple wearing wool sweaters and walking their dog for directions and rolled down the cobblestone road past the small church and cemetery.

As I went on, I passed families out for a Saturday bike ride, a weathered old harbor harboring old weathered gentlemen, a herd of goats, and more beautiful scenery than I’m able to account. It was all so fresh, so typical, yet so extraordinary. Only the pain in my legs kept me connected to the real world.

Including scenic stops and getting lost, the trip to Bonn took about two hours and I rode about 40km. In Bonn I grabbed a cheesy pretzel and a chocolate croissant, I joined the old cannons that overlook the river from an old fortified picnic bench, and I started to think about how I would describe the last two hours. Fantastic.