Impressions

Touring by bicycle gives you a genuine sense of the countryside. You get nothing comparable from a car or a train. On a bike, you smell the fields, the wildflower blossoms, the hot asphalt. You notice things. You see the hawk in a tree and the rat on a fence. You smell the cows and hear their bells. You hear the cuckoo in the distance. You feel the boards of the wooden bridge creak and clatter under you, and you smell the old, woody dust raised by your tires. You drink ice-cold water from the fountain in the town square. You see the old man sitting by his front door watching everything and nothing. You get bugs up your nose.

A bicycle’s relationship with the countryside is different from a car’s. In a car, you see a grain field. On a bike, you see the field, the individual stalks of grain, the clods of earth, the invading weeds, the insects, the small birds eating them, the hawks eating the small birds. You smell the grain when it’s cut and drying in the sun. In a car you get the big picture and think you understand it. On a bike you get the details and you know you understand them.

On a bike, the road has meaning. It has a reality that you experience every moment; you feel its granularity, you respond to each of its changes, and you respect its breadth and solidity. In a car, the road is almost an abstraction; you follow it like a video game as it twists under you. It’s unreal. Not so on a bike. On a bike, the road has power and it has intelligence. You push against it and it responds to your effort, carrying you uphill or sending you smoothly downhill. It knows where you will go. You have to deal with it and negotiate with it. You and the road must come to an understanding.

Like a hiker, a bicyclist is part of the environment, not insulated from it like a car, bus, or train traveler. This is both good and bad. It is an essential and inevitable part of the sense of closeness to the land, but it does require that you protect yourself from the extremes of heat, cold, sun, rain, dust, and the drying effects of the continuous 15-MPH wind in your face. You must anticipate and prepare. You must, again, negotiate with the environment.

Bugs

Bugs can be a real problem. In a car, you just wash the windshield at the next gas stop. On a bike, you are the windshield. Coming out of Bregenz, I rode through several swarms of gnats and God-knows-what other types of flying critters. Riding through  farmland, I repeatedly encountered large numbers of black hovering insects that looked like wasps. Fortunately, whatever they were, they didn’t sting. Still, there were a lot of them, and they got under my helmet, under my shirt, in my eyes, in my mouth and up my nose. There were huge swarms on Reichenau; some were so large that I could hear them buzzing 50 yards away. When they get in your helmet or clothes, you have to stop and free them or they drive you nuts. I made a lot of debugging stops.

Fortunately, I encountered few mosquitoes, bees, or other stinging or biting insects. I saw a few hornets and bumblebees, but these left me alone.

Farms

In the spring, most of the fields in Switzerland have a cover crop of some type of grain. In May it’s being cut, dried, raked and collected. Probably for silage; I don’t know. There are also fields of a plant that has bright yellow blooms. I was told that this is rape, for canola (rapeseed) oil.

The cows all have cowbells! How quaint! Mostly they are the traditional cup-shaped Swiss cowbell, but there are also large solid brass bells, quite heavy. I wonder if they give the cows neck-aches?

In the US, we are accustomed to having farms in one place and the town in another. It ain’t that way here! The barns are usually along the main drag through town, sometimes with a manure pile proudly displayed out front. I’ll bet it gets really ripe around June or July. The animals are kept from wandering into the roads, usually by electric fences, but I suspect that they are sometimes driven down the main roads and perhaps watered at the city fountains. I have even seen farm animals, sheep and cows, within the city of Zürich.

One of the most common crops is apples. The apple orchards usually have a large number of small, closely spaced trees, severely pruned. The orchards have trellises, but the trees are not actually espaliered onto them as they seem to be in Holland; I suspect that the trellises are used to support the relatively weak branches on which the apples are produced. There are also some pear trees and some stone-fruit trees of some kind; I’m not sure if the latter are serious fruit producers or are mainly for decoration and personal use. They are not in big orchards, as are the apples.

Outdoor Restaurants

Man, do these folks like to eat outdoors! If the weather allows it, dinner is outdoors, even if the area is not especially pleasant. The Sunday of the bike trip was the first really nice Sunday in a long time, and everyone was outside. In one case I saw a couple eating at what appeared to be a card table in front of the barn, right next to the manure pile. Most people were more civilized, however; many were setting up large tables for Sunday dinner, often under a large tree. They used good linens and crystal, and often had a dozen or more place settings.

In good weather, the outdoor restaurants were busy all day and well into the evening. From mid-morning on, it was lunch, drinks, ice cream, drinks, more drinks, some conversation, drinks, and finally before-dinner aperitifs, dinner, after-dinner drinks, and evening cocktails. Many people just sit down, order a beer or a glass of wine, and spend a couple hours reading the paper or just watching the world go by. The restaurants outside my hotel in Winterthur were still hopping at 10:00 at night, and I doubt that their business eased off before midnight.

With good weather, pleasant surroundings, and a little shade, the outdoor restaurants are indeed very pleasant. I got into the outdoor dining habit very easily. You can have a nice, relaxed dinner, reduce the beer content of the universe a little, and just kick back. I don’t do enough of this.

The Bodensee Bike Route

One of my concerns about the Bodensee bike route was the possibility that it might be too sterile, a European version of what I had in LA: something designed mainly to keep bikes away from interesting things like, for example, the open road. This worry was partly valid. There were a lot of absolutely wonderful stretches, mostly from Stein through Bregenz, but much of the route along the south shore was pretty dismal: narrow, unpaved, and dusty, with lots of loose gravel. I made a good decision to abandon the bike path at this point and to take the roads. The roads are pretty good, actually. Usually they have a bike lane, often a separate path, and the traffic is light. When you take minor roads, the traffic is almost nonexistent and, most importantly, the scenery is wonderful. (Actually, I came across road crews paving the bike path just north of Konstanz. So, by next summer (1999), a lot of the more dismal stretches might be paved.)

In many places the bike route is fine. It leads you through cities in a sensible, comfortable way, usually along the flattest route. It goes through mixed terrain: forests, fields, and occasionally, when appropriate, roads. Still, it is important not to adhere slavishly to the bike routes, simply to say that you have done the entire Bodensee route. (For one thing, there are several places, especially in Austria, where there are a couple of alternate routes; you really can’t follow them all.)

The route goes wherever necessary. It follows no set of rules. It goes through alleys, parking lots, and residential streets. It goes through forests on gravel roads and along the shore on paved paths. It cuts through harbors and pedestrian areas in towns and cities. And it connects with the national bike routes and other marked town-to-town routes.

Most importantly, whatever its limitations, the route is a statement that bikes belong here. It states unequivocally that touring by bike is a legitimate thing to do. It is not something you may do only with the tolerance of the automobiles, as it would be in the US; the place is made for bicycles. Bikes belong.
 
 

Suggestions for the Tour

One important suggestion: take a look at the Trento Bike Pages for links to more bicycle-touring information. There are links to lots of delightful tour reports and loads of practical information from people who do much more of this than I do.  Other links you should see are listed below:

Links

Trento Bike Pages: Probably the best, comprehensive bike-touring site on the net.

Bicycle Germany: A really nice site devoted entirely to bike touring in Germany. A lot of the information is useful for touring in general, not just Germany.

Bicycle Touring in Austria: General information on bicycling in Austria. 

Bodensee Radweg: Lots of good info; in several languages.

Swiss bicycle routes: Everything you've heard about Swiss meticulousness is true. This site, complete and detailed, proves it.

Dialoge Sprachinstitut: A German languge school in Lindau. their field trips involve bicycling in the area. Sounds like fun to me.

Bike

A bicycle is essential. It's pretty tough to do a bike tour without one. Some suggestions:

• Bring your own bike; don't plan on renting one. This way you can be certain that the bike fits you properly, is in good repair, and is geared appropriately. I have rented bikes in Europe, and although they have been OK, they certainly were not up to the level of my own little purple chariot.
• My bike is a Univega, a touring geometry, and it fits me perfectly. It is not a super-expensive model, and, frankly, you are better off without something too fancy: it's easier to get parts and repairs if necessary, and the overall design is likely to be more rugged and suitable for touring.
• The ol' tire quandary: I use good-quality 700-32C high-pressure tires. These are great on roads, but, unfortunately, there are a lot of unpaved paths on this route. A slightly larger, softer tire (700-35C at about 70 PSI) might be a better compromise. The skinny little tires beloved of the Greg LeMonde wannabees are totally unsuited (in my opinion) for use on real roads; you'd have to be absolutely nuts to use them for this kind of tour.
• I put my bike in a Performance case for the trip to Switzerland. This case is a little expensive, $250, but it sure makes life easy. The case is much easier to handle than a box, and it protects the bike perfectly. Remember, one dent can pretty much ruin an aluminum frame, and European baggage handlers are a bunch of gorillas. I've sat in airplanes watching luggage being thrown ten or fifteen feet into the baggage carts.
• Be sure to have a seat that you can tolerate for several hours of riding. I spent a lot of time and money trying to find a seat I liked. I eventually settled on an inexpensive gel seat which, in combination with appropriate clothing, is actually quite comfortable. I can spend hours on it without any sore-tush problems.

Since I was staying in hotels, I carried only about 35 pounds of stuff in rear panniers, an under-seat pack, and a small front pack. Here's (I think) a complete inventory:

• Helmet. (If you don't wear one, you are insane!)
• Sunglasses.
• Cycling gloves.
• Pants clips.
• Waist pack (very useful!)
• Two pairs of hiking shorts from REI, with velcro-closed pockets.
• One pair of long pants.
• Two pairs of bicycling undershorts (I like the Cannondale better than the Andiamo).
• Two pairs conventional undershorts.
• Three tab-front tee shirts.
• Three pairs of white cotton socks.
• One pair of ordinary athletic shoes (Sorry, I'm not a believer in bicycling shoes, and the ones that clip to pedals are totally impractical for this type of trip.)
• Cotton sweater (easy to wash, not itchy).
• Light nylon anorak, with hood. This is mainly for rain, but layering it with the sweater is surprisingly warm.
• Nylon pants (for rain and warmth).
• Toiletries, laundry soap, pre-moistened towelettes, small first-aid kit, sunscreen (ever hopeful!)
• Camera, extra film, pen, and paper.
• Maps, copies of pages from guide books.
• Headlight and taillight, extra set of batteries.
• Two large water bottles.
• Tools, tire pump, spare cables, spokes, tube, patch kit, chain lube, small roll of duct tape.
• Pannier rain covers and plenty of plastic bags. I lined each pannier with a large plastic grocery bag.
• Bike U-lock and six-foot cable.
• A few bungee cords.

You will notice that I don't bring conventional bike clothes. I find that the Cannondale undershorts combined with ordinary shorts that do not have any troublesome seams are fine. I strongly recommend that you wear conventional clothes and leave the haught couture de la bicyclette (apologies to those of you who really speak French) at home. By wearing conventional clothes, you are more appropriately dressed for museums, restaurants, and sightseeing. Most of Europe is pretty informal these days, but the standard US bicyclist's clown outfit, although supposedly "Europe-inspired," is just not seen in many parts of Europe, and is inappropriate attire for many purposes. Dressing inappropriately is one of the hallmarks of idiot American tourists. Don't do it.

Traveling and Getting Around

• Bring a good map. 200,000-scale Michelin maps are OK.
• Switzerland has nine national bike routes. These are marked routes which go through all parts of the country. There are also thousands of little red signs showing the most bicycle-friendly routes between towns. The routes are well marked. These should be your first choice for getting around, even if (especially if) the road they use does not appear on your map.
• Don't be afraid of bicycling through cities in Switzerland. Most have well marked bike lanes or separate paved paths.
• Don't be afraid of major roads in Switzerland. Major rural roads usually have bike paths, but minor routes don't, so often it's better to take a major highway.
• In Switzerland, you can take your bike on a train very easily. Sometimes you have to put it on a baggage car, but often you can load it right onto a passenger car (selbst verladen is the term they use) in a special area where it hangs from the front wheel by a hook. I didn't do this myself, but it is a common sight. You do need to pay about $7.00 extra, however.

• I don't think I would ever take an organized bike tour. For one thing, they're expensive. Unless you're camping, tours often cost a couple hundred bucks a day; even camping, you can drop a hundred a day. On a self tour with that budget, you can live pretty extravagantly (not that I'd want to) and buy your way out of any problems that arise. The advantages of a tour are (1) for better or worse, it's planned for you, (2) for better or worse, you have some "companions" for the trip, and (3) you don't have to carry your luggage. Many people take tours because they feel protected, but unless you're extraordinarily timid, this certainly isn't necessary in Europe. The advantage of a self tour is simple: it's an adventure!
• I went alone and I'm quite sure that I'd rather do it that way. If you do bring a companion, be sure that he or she is well matched to your abilities. Otherwise, one of you will want to continue while the other is exhausted or will want to take that steep hill while the other wants the low road.
• I took Swissair to Zurich because it was nonstop, convenient, and inexpensive. They did, however, charge $75 each way for the bike. Other airlines don't charge extra, but they are less convenient. Take your pick.
• Language is less of a problem than you might expect. Hotel clerks all speak English, and finding an English-speaking waiter, especially in Switzerland, is usually not difficult. It does help a enormously to know even a little of the local language, however, and it will make your trip more enjoyable. My German is somewhat south of pitiable, and I got by just fine.
• Although a lot of bike tourists get off the plane, put the bike together and hit the road, I strongly suggest taking a day or two for jet-lag adjustment. I travel to Europe a lot and don't have much trouble with jet lag, but I still can't imagine riding long distances on the first day.
• Storing your bike case and extra luggage may be a problem. I stored mine in my office at the university; if you don't have friends willing to store your stuff, you might be able to get a hotel reservation for your last night and store it at the hotel. My hotel was willing to do this. Might cost a few bucks, though.
• Cash cards and PIN numbers are the way to get money in Europe these days; exchange rates are good and charges are minimal or zero. Before you leave, find out which European banks will honor your card. However, be warned: if you make an error, the cash machine may eat your card! Errors are easy to make; after all, the machine's instructions may not be in English. So, for safety, only use the cash machine when the bank is open.
• Ask locally about bike paths and routes. There are literally thousands of these in Switzerland. I found out about a path along the Glatt river almost by accident; it turned out to be one of the most wonderful rides I've ever taken.

• Restrooms, water fountains and such things are not available in every little park, as they are in the US. In Switzerland, every town, big or little, has at least one public fountain with drinking water running continuously into a trough. Sometimes there are fountains along streets as well. Unless you see a sign saying Kein Trinkwasser, ("not drinking water"), the city fountains in every Swiss town are safe. (Unless you're a cow, use the water directly from the fountain, not the trough!)
• There are plenty of public restrooms if you look for them, especially at train stations, no matter how small. And, of course, the route goes through a lot of forests...
• Train stations are an important resource for travelers in Europe, no matter what mode of transport you use. They often have restrooms, shower facilities, restaurants, shopping, maps, tourist information, pickpockets, grocery stores, street lunatics, you name it. Most ordinary stores are closed on Sundays, but in train stations most will be open. A train station might be the only place where you can find groceries on Sunday.
• There is no shortage of hotels on the Bodensee; remember, this is a resort area. I was a little ahead of the tourist crush so I had no problems finding rooms. In midsummer, however, it might be another story.
• There is also no shortage of neat little cafes where you can stop for a bite to eat and something to drink. A mid-afternoon stop for ice cream at an open-air cafe overlooking the lake is one of the most pleasant experiences you can imagine. (Well, OK, that experience is indeed more pleasant, but not by much.)
• In this part of Europe your hotel room will include a continental breakfast: bread, fruit, coffee, juice, cereal. This is precisely what you should eat when you are bicycling. Take advantage of the free food and eat a good breakfast. Similar fare is fine for lunch. I always stopped at a bakery and/or a grocery store and got a chunk of bread or pastries, some fruit, and occasionally a chocolate bar. (Hey, this is Switzerland!) Dinner was a regular, restaurant meal; however, I found that this should be heavy on carbohydrates and light on fat (not easy to do at any restaurant!) The conventional wisdom about the benefits of a high-carbohydrate diet really is correct. (I suggest that you ignore the "retro" philosophy among many self-appointed bicycling experts, writing in enthusiast magazines, who recommend a high-fat diet. These people are morons.)

Fortunately, I had California weather for the whole trip. However, the weather on many of my day tours was not so nice. I got quite a lot of experience riding in the rain, added to my experience last year bicycle commuting in Sweden. (Click here for the story.) Some ideas:

• Obviously, you need a good, lightweight rain suit. I like having a thin hood that fits under my helmet; it's little advantage keeping your body dry if your head is soaked. However, if you do keep dry, riding in the rain can be a lot of fun. I enjoyed it.
• Many wet things can be much more slippery than you might imagine. I once took a spill on a wet railroad crossing. Somehow, the bike slipped sideways on the rails, even though I crossed them at a right angle. Be careful! The last thing you need on a vacation trip is an accident.
• Rain will get into things that you would swear were completely watertight. My panniers collected a little moisture even though they were covered. I use pannier covers and put things in plastic bags. My handlebar bag leaked like a congressional staff member. I brought plastic bags for its contents.
• Similarly, keep a few plastic bags and rubber bands to cover things that you don't want to get wet. Your cyclometer, for example.
• Most hotels do not have indoor bike parking. If it's raining, your bike will get wet. You will want to cover critical parts with plastic bags: cyclometer, seat, handlebar.
• Again an obvious note: bring a bike that can stand getting a little wet occasionally.
• Use the time-honored technique of layering to keep warm. I brought a cotton sweater, which I layered with the nylon rain anorak. This combination is warm enough for anything anyone might experience in summer.
• Lots of people, I know, swear by Gore-Tex. However, all the Gore-Tex jackets I've seen are $200 and up. Do you really want to leave a $250 jacket in panniers on a parked bike? Or carry it around with you on a hot summer day?

• When I get to a hotel, I take a shower and wash the clothes I have worn that day. I roll them in towels to remove as much water as possible and hang them up to dry. If the items are not too heavy, they should be dry by morning. If they're still a little damp, I put them loosely in the top of the panniers and finish drying them the next evening, if necessary. I put on fresh clothes, head out to dinner, and order a schnitzel and a large German beer. Heaven.
• Next day, I wear the clothes from the previous evening.
• Roll your clothes instead of folding them. This minimizes wrinkles. If you don't pack things too tightly, they won't wrinkle too much. If your evening clothes are a little wrinkled, and it matters to you, put them on a hanger in the bathroom while you take a shower. This will remove most wrinkles.

• Timing is a little strange. Most restaurants outside of big cities don't offer breakfast until about 8:00, so usually you're on the road around 9:00. After four or five hours, you've gone 40-50 miles or more, and you might be ready to call it a day. But it's still early afternoon, much too early to check into a hotel. If there are things to see and do, this is not a problem, but often you will be stuck with a full afternoon to kill, and you might be too tired to do much. The solution is to plan carefully. Make sure you have identified lots of interesting places to stop and things to see along the route. Every day, take a couple sightseeing breaks. Take your time; don't rush.
• The only really hilly part of the trip is along the Bodanuk peninsula north of Mainau. You can avoid this stretch by taking a ferry from Konstanz to Meersburg; however, you'll miss one of the nicest parts of the trip.
• Fatigue and oxygen starvation really affect your judgment. The only day I had trouble finding a hotel was one in which I passed up a perfectly suitable place for reasons that make no sense to me today. But they seemed perfectly logical at the time. Take plenty of rest stops; don't try to cover huge distances so you can brag about it when you get home. Relax. Enjoy it. That's why you're doing this, yes?
• Eat enough and drink a lot of water. This is not the time to be on a diet. There is certainly no shortage of bakeries and cafes along the route. Stop mid-morning and mid-afternoon for a snack (the Italian ice cream available throughout the area is great!)
• My training ritual of two outings totaling about 70 miles per week for several months before the trip was quite adequate. I could have gone much farther than my 40-50 miles per day. I had no physical problems at all.
• Panniers put a lot of weight over the bike's rear wheels. I had been warned that this might hurt the bike's stability, but in fact the change in handling was almost imperceptible. I did notice a very slight tendency to oversteer, but I got used to this in a few minutes. However, the situation might be much worse if I were carrying 60 pounds on the rear or using a bike that was less stable to begin with. (I've heard stories of bikes becoming quite unstable when loaded heavily; test yours before you leave home!) If you carry a lot of stuff, split the weight between rear and front panniers.
• Security: For sure, theft is less of a worry in Switzerland than in Los Angeles, but it certainly is not unknown, and losing a wallet is a real possibility. I put my passport and a set of keys to my bike lock in a pouch of my waist pack that never was opened. Half my cash and a credit card went into the waist pack as well; the rest was in a wallet in a velcro-closed pocket. A greater problem is that the contents of panniers--or the panniers themselves--can easily be stolen when you park the bike. I used a cable to lock the panniers to the bike, and just didn't leave anything of value in them. I used a large "U" lock to lock the bike to a solid object.
• A good, detailed local map is essential. The 400,000-scale Michelin maps designed for automobile touring are not detailed enough for bicycling. I found a wonderful 75,000-scale map of the Bodensee area, showing the bike routes, but the ubiquitous 200,000-scale Michelin maps are adequate for most purposes. Remember: on a bike, one wrong turn can wreck your whole day.