Critical mass reached on the third day!

The sun delights the land with its warm rays and kisses us from our sleep. “Uahh, I slept well,” Tanja whispers quietly. We quickly leave our tent. We heat the tea water with the small Primus kettle. Then we eat our delicious muesli from Rapunzel and pack up our camp. At 11:00 a.m. we are already in the saddle and pedaling at full speed. After just a few kilometers, we start sweating profusely. Although we love the sun, we have to realize that its hot rays are very hard on us. By now the thermometer shows 35° in the shade, so at least 45° in the sun. Even small hills become a super effort. On some, for other cyclists, ridiculous hills we even have to dismount to push our bike up. We’re sweating profusely and, to be honest, any hint of fun is nipped in the bud. Pushing my 105 kilos gives me shoulder tension after just a few minutes. I find it difficult not to simply drive the entire vehicle into the ditch to say goodbye to this drudgery right now. The thought of 20,000 kilometers becomes a nightmare at this moment, an impossibility. With every upcoming hill, we try to get our load trains up to top speed beforehand in order to gain as much altitude as possible. My thighs feel like they’re going to burst and every time I feel like I have to throw up my tortured lungs on the hot asphalt. We are only just beginning to realize what the professional cyclists achieve during the Tour de France.

The beautiful landscape of Lake Constance receives little attention from us. Our mood sinks from hour to hour. When, after about 41 kilometers, in the late afternoon, just before the town of Constance, we are allocated a piece of grass far too small for our tent on a completely overcrowded campsite right next to the children’s playground for 29 francs, there is nothing left of our morale. Tanja and I are irritable and have to be careful not to get into each other’s hair. We reached critical mass on the third day of our trip. All it takes is a spark and the store is blown to pieces. “We have to turn back. According to my map, there are no more campsites for the next 20 kilometers,” I say, whereupon we mount our bikes to drive them back over the already conquered elevations. After a total of 50 kilometers we reach a nice camp site near Ruederbronn, completely exhausted. We set up our shelter, boil hot water for our tasty freeze-dried ready-to-eat food from Reiter and discuss the day. With our thighs, upper arms and faces burnt by the sun, we crawl into our tent and lay our aching bodies on the sleeping mats in consensual silence.

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