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Kira's Cycling Expedition for Charities.

 Click her picture to visit her site.






























































































Where We Stayed Day One:

Kurt and Marion Donaubauer

Nomerberg 20a

94575 Windorf















































































































Where we stayed night two:

Gasthof Zum Schwarzen Adler

Marktplatz 19

4100 Ottensheim

Phone:  0043/7234/82224

FAX:    0043/7234/822244

E-mail:  Schwarzeradlero-heim@aon.at




















































































































This night was spent at Christine Schlossgang Groissgraben 3 A4360 Grein/Donau.

Phone and FAX 0043(0)7268 7308 Cell 06644837665



Currency Converter                        Peter Weiss Recumbent Bike Shop 


A small town in the  Czech Republic, our next issue


August 2005        Volume 2               Issue 12

In last issue we took you with us from Mulhbach to Passau.  However, we did not include our little excursion over into the Czech Republic.  If you remember, after I completed my ride into Passau, we rented a couple of rooms in a hotel and spent a couple more days taking day trips in the Dakota.

One of those trips was into Czech.  I think this was Dolores' second trip into Czech and my fourth or fifth.  It was Nolan's first.  The weather was both rainy and sunshiny.  We found the people to be friendly, and the country interesting.  Since this is a biking magazine and we did no biking in Czech, this will just be a short diversion to share a few pictures with you before getting into our Passau to Vienna ride.

Driving across the border, we made an immediate stop at the crossing to get Czech currency, which, at the time of this writing is 1 Czech koruna = 0.0399329 U.S. dollars.

The roads reminded me of the ones back where I was raised in Arkansas, narrow, winding, and in need of repair.

As you drive just across the border, there are signs that warn you to not get off the road. I assumed there might still be some unexploded ordinance still along the border between Czech and Germany.  We soon found a place to eat that was just out of this world.  If you get the chance to eat at Albatros Hotel in the ancient town of Prachatice in southern part of the Sumava mountains near the border crossing into Austria and Germany you will not regret doing so.  The hotel is near biking routes that are connected to Bavarian and Austrian paths.  If you do stop there, order the seafood salad.  You just won't believe it.

Hotel Albatros

Vodnanska 1321, 38301 Prachatice

Phone and FAX 388311400

email: albatros-pt@albatros-pt.cz



As all good things must, our time on this trip came to a close.  Upon arriving back home, I was met with two inches of water in my office where Nolan had left the water hose in the window well of our basement.  The water had all those days to saturate double carpets on my office floor. 

Dolores had a great idea.  We took her rug shampooer and spent all day moving furniture and sucking up water.  The next day, after sucking up water for a while, I just told her that it was futile and the carpets would have to come up.  I wanted to cut them up strip by strip, but she didn't want to destroy them.  She still had the idea of placing them in the sun and using them again.

I finally convinced her that the carpets would always stink and they were too heavy to tote up the stairs.  So, out came the carpet knives. Need I say that we had to cut them into strips just to be able to carry them up the stairs?

The following Monday, I went to the local bike store and had them to check what was causing the bobbing up and down on Tweety's back tire.  After I had the bags off, it was easy enough to see that the tire was about to blowout.  I asked if they had tires to replace all three and was told they would have to order them and they would not be in till Thursday.  I told the fellow that I was going on a bike ride from Passau to Vienna that Friday and had to be assured the tires would be mounted and ready to ride Thursday.  I was assured they would.

I called Peter to see if he had tires.  He was not in.  I had to make the decision; so, it was, we ordered the tires.  I checked back the next day to double check.  They would definitely be in and mounted on Thursday.  Wednesday, I checked and was again assured the tires would be in and mounted on Thursday.

Tuesday evening we decided to go out to the Schnitzel Factory for dinner.  This is our favorite place to eat and have been eating there off and on since about 1991.  They had just recently moved into a different building which has a small bowling ally.  Nolan went into the bowling ally to play.  He soon came back with a red mark on the side of his head.  He said he had been hit by a bowling ball.

I went into the ally to check things out and felt it was too easy for an ADHD fellow like him to get hurt.  So, I told him to come back to the dinning area with me.  When I arrived back at the table alone, Dolores said, "I thought I heard you tell him to come back to the dinning room."  I replied that I had.  Soon, Nolan came to the table and hugged my arm, and said, "Now I've hurt this," as he presented me with his crooked left pinky finger.  It was obvious it had been broken.

So it was, change the order to go and away we went to the emergency room.  There we waited till 2100 to see an orthopedic surgeon.  He put on a splint.  We had waited so long in the waiting room that the finger had swollen to the point the bone would not stay in place and would have to have two pins.  We were scheduled for an operation on Thursday morning.

I checked on the tires again.  I was told, "I told you, Thursday."  I said that I knew he had but was just double checking.  I was again assured with out a doubt the tires would be in and mounted Thursday.

We arrived at 0615 for Nolan's 0630 operation.  The doctor was tied up. Then the two nurses available to administer the medication for the operation got called to an emergency C-section.  Finally at about 10 or 1030 Nolan was operated on.  It took about 40 minutes for the operation and then we had to wait till he could pee and walk before we could take him home.  I have to tell you, these young army doctors in the emergency room and in the operating room have went out of their way to give us the best treatment possible.

On the way back from the hospital, I stopped at the bike shop and was told the tires would not be in as I had been assured, several times.  I told them to forget the order, I had to have tires mounted that day.  I called Peter; he said he had only two and if he ordered the other that day it would not arrive before 1500 the next day.  We agreed that he would mount the two he had and leave the best old one on till I came back off my trip.

When I arrived, Peter showed me a somewhat larger tire he wanted to put on the back. I agreed and was well satisfied with his work.  But, then, again, when have I not ever been satisfied with Peter's work. I just wish his shop was not a 120 mile round trip from my house.

8 July 2005:  Day One

The doctor had given us some bandages and tape to change Nolan's dressing and scheduled Nolan to see him a couple of days following our return home.  So, it was that we were up at 0445 and on the road by 0530 on July 8, 2005 for our Passau to Vienna bike trip.

Dolores had initially reserved an apartment for us in Windorf and wanted me to ride as far as I could then camp.  Then ride then camp till I had completed my ride and she would pick me up.  I told her it made no since for me to pay for a place to sleep then camp out.  So, we decided on one night in Windorf and made arrangements for the other nights as we went.  We arrived in Windorf at 0830 and got gas at the only ESSO station which is located the next town up river.

9 July 2005: Day 2

By 0950 Dolores and Nolan had dropped me off just outside Passau near the little town of Erlau.  Stopping the trike on the bike trail just across the busy highway, I got off to rummage through my day box.  Then the smell; dog crap; I looked down and saw where a footprint had disturbed this huge pile of dog residue.  Looking at my shoe sole told the tail.  I was livid. I would have delighted in seeing that irresponsible lowlife dog owner, having his/her nose rubbed in the mess.  It used to be folks were very conscious about taking a plastic bag and picking up after their dogs.  This is less and less the case these days.

Near Oberzell, the bike trail ran out and it was the highway all the way into Jochenstein.  Going uphill, I stayed in the higher gears and was amazed at the speed at which I was able to ascend.  I rounded a bend; up ahead was a fellow struggling on a road bike.  As I saw the distance close, I increased the power; around another bend, more hill; I was on his fender; more power and I was passing him at 14 miles per hour.  Boy, did this feel great. I could pass someone on two wheels while going uphill.

From my recon, I was sure that I would pick up the bike path at a little restaurant and rest stop at the top of the hill, in Jochenstein.  I stopped at the rest place and tried to remember where I needed to pick up the trail.  Here I met a bearded fellow who had never seen a trike like Tweety. I allowed him sit on her and was rewarded with him taking a movie of us with his digital camcorder. I noticed the biker I had passed pulling into the stop.

I saw a path that led to the bike trail.  Here,  I picked up what had once been two paved strips the width of tractor tires for a farmer's road.  The middle had since been filled with un-sealed asphalt and was just better than gravel.  Here, again, I passed a couple with whom I had unintentionally been playing catch up tag all day.

Shortly,  I had unknowingly crossed into Austria.  A BMW passed me at a relatively good clip, leaving its dust to settle on and around Tweety and me. With this limited experience, I concluded that cars on bike trails in Austria were not nearly as bike conscious as in Germany.  However, this is likely not the case. I did not experience such an attitude later in my trip.  I started seeing notices of bike ferries marked on the trail.  It was inevitable that I would have to cross somewhere, so I took the first crossing which put me off in the little village of Schlogen.

Of course, I used this as an opportunity to sell 'Bent Miles. Talking about a captured audience, every adult to include the ferry operator received a business card.  I started to feel the same old feeling I used to get when I sold insurance; Heads down, hand out to take card, with the understanding, "Gotta get out of here before he sells me something I don't want."  Gotcha; 'Bent Miles is freeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!

Because I would have to pick Tweety and bags up and carry her across the stern of the ferry, I waited till last to get off.  Some folks went down the trail, others went to the local restaurant right near the ferry.  One family waited near the ferry to make sure I didn't sell them anything.

Down I plopped and off I sped.  Then I stopped.  Am I going the right way?  Wasn't the river on my left as I was coming.  It is still on my left; that means I'm going right back the same direction.  Ooops; forgot that I had crossed over once before; so the river this time had been on my right.  Once I had convinced myself  I was right, who was to argue with me, I was off. looking for Ottensheim, the town where we had a couple of rooms in the Swartz Adler Hotel.

At about 1330 I stopped on the trail adjacent to two restaurants where I took several swigs from my water bottle and ate an apple and brochen.  Not finding a wastebasket, I deposited the core in my fruit bag, waved bye to the family who had been watching me and my strange steed as they rested in the shade.

Soon I saw the writing on the pavement, so to speak.  It indicated that the next town, Aschach, was 10 km up the trail.  I pedaled and I pedaled.  I kept seeing the one or two km increments telling me the distance to this, seemingly, fictitious town.  Did it really exist?  Would I ever get there??  Finally! But,  it was still allusive.  It was one of those towns where you think you have arrived, but find out that it is still down the path a ways.

By the time I did arrive in Aschach, I was hungry again and had a second lunch of peanuts and food bar.  I called Dolores and she was still in Germany.  Just prior to getting onto the bike trail, Dolores and I had exchanged our Germany phone cards with Austrian phone cards that we had picked up while on our recon trip.  I suppose the only reason it worked was because one of us was in Austria and the other in Germany.  Otherwise we would have to have used the international code and it would have cost us about twice as much per call.  So, for just a few Euro, you can get the cards and 20 E of phone credits.  Believe me; it is worth every cent.

I was still about 28 km out of Ottensheim.  I told her to take her time. If I arrived before she, I'd arrange to have the clerk give her a key and she and Nolan could come on up and join me. 

At about 1600 Dolores called me.  I told her I was about five minutes from the hotel.  I was going to have to cross the river once again to get into Ottensheim.  Arriving near my crossing I noticed traffic lights and gates. Asking other bikers along the way, I found out that I had to go through these gates and that I'd likely be sharing the loch and dam crossing with automobiles.

Verbal instructions from one lady had me going left at the end of the loch and taking the first right.  I was hesitant; the first right just didn't look correct.  A fellow passing by on a bike caring a bike tire in one hand, told me that I had to take the second right.  The road by now had gotten worse and of course my speed had dropped accordingly.

After a few more directions, I soon arrived at the hotel where I saw Dolores parked just across the street.

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 July 10 2005: Day 3

I awoke at about 0300 hours wishing the next-door neighbor would get out of the shower and let me get back to sleep.  I dozed; at 0330, I woke again ready to pound on the wall and tell them to stop running the darn water.  Then I realized that the shower I was hearing was the downpour of rain on the roof of the connecting hallway between our part of the hotel and the newer section.  Some of my windows opened right onto the connecting roof.

I got up at 0600; it was still raining.  We had breakfast at 0730; it was still raining.  I became concerned that I might not be able to ride.  By 0830 it had stopped raining and I was once again on the bike trail.  Going up the street, I made the right toward the bike trail that I had scouted on our way to Chinese dinner the night before.  But, just where was the entrance.  I watched an older couple as they negotiated the turn and followed them onto the trail.  They stopped; it appeared they were either making repairs or adjustments.  I bid them good day and was on my way.

I hoped the trail was going to get better.  It was black asphalt and severely potted. Just a few yards up, I had to get off and carry my trike through a barrier.   Entering a bike trail along the side of a highway, I felt the rain starting to drizzle again.   A lady and man passed me as I was crossing a lighted intersection.  I fell in behind them.  A few miles later they went left and up over a bridge.  I went straight.

Dolores called and wanted to know if I wanted her to pick me up.  I said no.  I pedaled on.  By now the rain was getting so hard I put my camera under my raincoat. Passing several homemade works of art, with wooden figures on bikes, I just had to take it out for more pictures.  The rain just kept coming. 

Dolores called again; again, I declined a pickup.  The route up to Linz was interesting.  However past Linz, it soon became monotonous. Couple this with steady rain and you get a less than pleasing bike ride.  Dolores called again and insisted that I get in out of the rain.  She suckered me into meeting her for lunch in a small village of Mitterkirchen.  Being in the laid back position that is indicative of a recumbent, encourages rain to enter at the neck and spread out all the way down. By now my camera had stopped working and I was soaked.   I knew that once I got stopped and into dry clothes, the day's ride would be over.

Dolores called me again and told me where she was parked.  I pedaled; it rained.  By this time I had my mind set on a nice warm, dry, truck with a dry change of clothes.  I pedaled; I got wetter, and wetter, and wetter.  Dolores called again and said she had moved.  I was infuriated, she had not move closer; she had mover further away.

She moved back to Mitterkirchen.  By the time we married up she had already eaten but was willing that I stop at a restaurant and have a warm meal.  I declined.  We headed on to the small town of Grein where we had two rooms awaiting our arrival. 

After receiving our keys and taking a shower, we took Nolan to Vienna where we quite accidentally found a great city park for him to play with his new golf clubs and balls.  It was not long before a Turkish boy, some what older than Nolan, was discarding his soccer ball in favor of Nolan's golf clubs.  Then along came a younger boy, either friend or brother, and his father.  I'm sure Nolan will remember this young fellow for the rest of his life.  It was so disappointing to not have a camera with which to record this wonderful event on my little friend's life.

The next morning at breakfast we met a couple of nice ladies, one German the other American, who were riding to Vienna. I told Dolores that if it was going to continue to rain, I might as well pack it in.  We decided that we would go on into Garmisch a day early and hope that Germany was having better weather. Besides, without a camera, I might as well not ride.

Will I get to ride in Garmisch?  To be continued; stay tuned for an update.






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