tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40092877002011667632024-03-14T01:06:05.243-07:00RedTandem.netJeff & Louise's space to share with you their thoughts
on what it means to retire and cycle the world!!Jeff & Louise Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08667329438445463926noreply@blogger.comBlogger246125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4009287700201166763.post-53146449873799187702023-06-21T12:05:00.001-07:002023-06-21T12:05:20.813-07:00A "New Normal" Plus a Trip to and Around the Olympic Peninsula<p> Welcome new readers, and welcome back to our regulars. It has been 2 1/2 years since we've written a blog post. That one broke from our earlier focus on descriptions of our various adventures, mostly on our tandem bike. But the pandemic changed life for all of us, and we took the opportunity in our last blog to illustrate how we stayed active in the first year of the pandemic by walking, cycling and canoeing in and around our home in Seattle.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi32tv18bpHWMAfogeWTCblGTy-_YYEFvm0jLFJHqZJLLSuHwcQn-arF252bT0dtbBkK_alr6yp69ih8rKB_kf8qD55u_HKOWMeLTLTT57xxeoaFqKtlcYyZ2poq9iSV0GSMqctL-Qf4AeBUzleJHuevwCzWoasuuK37V7bzeZ22iASDGefL_YpNPHFiw/s3648/IMG_5040.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3648" data-original-width="2432" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi32tv18bpHWMAfogeWTCblGTy-_YYEFvm0jLFJHqZJLLSuHwcQn-arF252bT0dtbBkK_alr6yp69ih8rKB_kf8qD55u_HKOWMeLTLTT57xxeoaFqKtlcYyZ2poq9iSV0GSMqctL-Qf4AeBUzleJHuevwCzWoasuuK37V7bzeZ22iASDGefL_YpNPHFiw/s320/IMG_5040.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><p></p><div style="text-align: left;">Things have changed in those 2 1/2 years. Six months after that last blog our collective age hit 150, and a year later we could both say we were 75+. Our minds keep forgetting that we're getting older, but our bodies keep reminding us. That was Problem #1.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Nonetheless, we kept going. In early 2021 our stuffed animals alerted us to snow at our sea-level home on Puget Sound, and we got in a walk past snowmen and snowmonsters. On cold days we took walks that stopped at cafes for lunch, and on any day that was dry and over 50 (10C) we would bring sandwiches and thermoses of hot soup and coffee, plus a foam pad to put on a possibly wet bench seat. We kept going like the Eveready Bunny. </div><p><span style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWpkJqk2yalkN_myd5Yr22TPprjt2ASYqwDn5nrNwaCrphWpv209be5bBRuGDH5J0bzjVY1Xs8JllqWAu3Pw0tON_ibufIBbKKNnrdmgIxhQfhBcMNSs3_GLVBh65rdnhCd9y_orfnjlqys4670-uAsZyQjcuCYLXKfefbN-5rWmPFPjuoR0IQdwfRGQ/s3264/IMG_0667.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2448" data-original-width="3264" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWpkJqk2yalkN_myd5Yr22TPprjt2ASYqwDn5nrNwaCrphWpv209be5bBRuGDH5J0bzjVY1Xs8JllqWAu3Pw0tON_ibufIBbKKNnrdmgIxhQfhBcMNSs3_GLVBh65rdnhCd9y_orfnjlqys4670-uAsZyQjcuCYLXKfefbN-5rWmPFPjuoR0IQdwfRGQ/s320/IMG_0667.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA7clYPeVoX-4Yh7o1j7DVCv2kE9m3dqoZ57vJYKy-6p1pA0WLbBKE46Mp9ioAuSCfTtF0bu4-DPaPGVsnIMtNNCKnyWDJZGXQSPLQ5eX85trSoYP3I1SHnOeUjzfr5gyzyyuLcw9wiFxMUzJoTPGOIH1YHPejppvJjzpF0j053uJ1iHncsh63QhHsAg/s3595/IMG_5118.JPG" style="clear: right; display: inline; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2178" data-original-width="3595" height="194" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA7clYPeVoX-4Yh7o1j7DVCv2kE9m3dqoZ57vJYKy-6p1pA0WLbBKE46Mp9ioAuSCfTtF0bu4-DPaPGVsnIMtNNCKnyWDJZGXQSPLQ5eX85trSoYP3I1SHnOeUjzfr5gyzyyuLcw9wiFxMUzJoTPGOIH1YHPejppvJjzpF0j053uJ1iHncsh63QhHsAg/s320/IMG_5118.JPG" width="320" /></a>And we kept biking. On one trip in April we drove our tandem up to the Skagit Valley for the annual Tulip Festival, where entire fields become blocks of brilliant color and one of the visitors captured this equally bright photo of us.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg624MBaEzBtxS51oxNNH39MtvC6MELP06KJpktMCFIm9rkXzgNYMzIeGQ5OTlP2vEzHPA5X34SM3XVXuc4QWCDtLJc6pfre4CALWi9BHRDsaKLHIqeUvLxD6H9BEcXiHMOgNqrsQB4jcv-GGTbaiz-Gl7d2fCseQU9Z3IaD3QdV4xjbffl8Er5RNpB9w/s2599/IMG_5115.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2599" data-original-width="2599" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg624MBaEzBtxS51oxNNH39MtvC6MELP06KJpktMCFIm9rkXzgNYMzIeGQ5OTlP2vEzHPA5X34SM3XVXuc4QWCDtLJc6pfre4CALWi9BHRDsaKLHIqeUvLxD6H9BEcXiHMOgNqrsQB4jcv-GGTbaiz-Gl7d2fCseQU9Z3IaD3QdV4xjbffl8Er5RNpB9w/s320/IMG_5115.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>In May, we took Amtrak to LA to visit Louise's son Brian and his family, and got everybody hiking up into the hills at Will Rogers State Park, something we try to hike every time we're in the LA area.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMjjDkzVibDNllnC01cOaPRACBOH4T_GqGHjjbbPotKNtfpzzw3BB0QwFlwDqn13JnMeogvyfnY_HdqIn5GlaxrL1r6gmlxVf2T0Gr-rBIIfc4KPJzmOcZipsi4fEwvusXWOBzYM3cXDbm-3QUCWtY4DDckIbKxOH7w1o89haZv_DVbFF2vxiloSTSxQ/s3422/Six%20of%20us%20at%20Will%20Rogers.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2281" data-original-width="3422" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMjjDkzVibDNllnC01cOaPRACBOH4T_GqGHjjbbPotKNtfpzzw3BB0QwFlwDqn13JnMeogvyfnY_HdqIn5GlaxrL1r6gmlxVf2T0Gr-rBIIfc4KPJzmOcZipsi4fEwvusXWOBzYM3cXDbm-3QUCWtY4DDckIbKxOH7w1o89haZv_DVbFF2vxiloSTSxQ/w640-h426/Six%20of%20us%20at%20Will%20Rogers.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><span style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><br /></span><span style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><br /></span><span style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><br /></span><span style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-l-viAVu9pMpc1KmBfjC2S8a961Ew8mVarEtwJIruu5ookEfufFNZgjJ5kF-mcbd0-W3DL6Hf98CXzrtzNJ0U3p8PEdqVH3uoLQLDv4OwSJslHvfNQ2KEmXWci1OUzWCnE7NnVIsiVKzgZrerpdh-Iah126iiH3JpHpmRvC8cd2mq6pFVrb_QWdaaWA/s3648/IMG_5208.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2736" data-original-width="3648" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-l-viAVu9pMpc1KmBfjC2S8a961Ew8mVarEtwJIruu5ookEfufFNZgjJ5kF-mcbd0-W3DL6Hf98CXzrtzNJ0U3p8PEdqVH3uoLQLDv4OwSJslHvfNQ2KEmXWci1OUzWCnE7NnVIsiVKzgZrerpdh-Iah126iiH3JpHpmRvC8cd2mq6pFVrb_QWdaaWA/s320/IMG_5208.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>And then there was canoeing. We became active with the Paddle Trails Canoe Club, plus also often paddled on our own. On the right, Louise is holding one of our pricey but invaluable lightweight paddles as we check out some of the cruise ships taking an extended pandemic break on the Seattle waterfront, a 5 mile paddle from our condo. In the second photo below, we're with the Cobbs, friends from the canoe club, enjoying a "floating lunch" on a side channel of the tidal Snohomish River.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju4njbcacfne25P0B7yvz8cYFpnl-K5Th4lzqJOcfZw6bEBtuDDadOI-_30iVGuptx4fRToVh5jygLqzFjZwBEOsqYNRqgo6ZOCtUCklbEi6FXsRpjGpTHl8nOMa5RPqB_VEQfWPAYa_WR2tEz9sxMU7UZ53BxTMWF6h7uKcOGa8r7NA04yzSwJvq21w/s3647/IMG_5190.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2052" data-original-width="3647" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju4njbcacfne25P0B7yvz8cYFpnl-K5Th4lzqJOcfZw6bEBtuDDadOI-_30iVGuptx4fRToVh5jygLqzFjZwBEOsqYNRqgo6ZOCtUCklbEi6FXsRpjGpTHl8nOMa5RPqB_VEQfWPAYa_WR2tEz9sxMU7UZ53BxTMWF6h7uKcOGa8r7NA04yzSwJvq21w/w640-h360/IMG_5190.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj15TeaH17ifB2iQYIb33e7ylLZfJPBph9WjF6rs1qDbuz0NlhXDxW9lRGIbyzeagEiFEQM4paZSJpwgAYQ1UQH6vG3Cul-PWLDWkKSL12OjbAdJRzXRvJUFUlMT_KVZHhzNMbqG6pgCQZfFsvTVSTV6TdjFNyNFmjyxzpm2sVqwHwUxin-OFaBu_zzWw/s3513/IMG_5227.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2342" data-original-width="3513" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj15TeaH17ifB2iQYIb33e7ylLZfJPBph9WjF6rs1qDbuz0NlhXDxW9lRGIbyzeagEiFEQM4paZSJpwgAYQ1UQH6vG3Cul-PWLDWkKSL12OjbAdJRzXRvJUFUlMT_KVZHhzNMbqG6pgCQZfFsvTVSTV6TdjFNyNFmjyxzpm2sVqwHwUxin-OFaBu_zzWw/w640-h426/IMG_5227.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We kept up the cycling, of course, and on August 28 we joined some 40 members of our local Evergreen Tandem Club for a picnic and ride in Carnation, a town abutting the foothills of the Cascades. Louise is the 8th person from the left, unfortunately looking down because no one has said the obligatory "cheese" just yet.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB_sJLefg4-RMusZUe4ijFZAxENNs3Ts8ZBCSa1n7CLI-zbYc41xXeGZT8LFxPW7pjHkaErOwO2V2t7ecNDCySBa5tTs1TqJ-VhlG_yk2445WiKzVkisLPKI4oPb6WHmuSS-wjjsxrStnlbrVYDphETMujLQVnAhOEzU5sbo9dZJh7_3v1h0lBq2nMWw/s3326/ETC%20Picnic%20group%20photo%201.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1871" data-original-width="3326" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB_sJLefg4-RMusZUe4ijFZAxENNs3Ts8ZBCSa1n7CLI-zbYc41xXeGZT8LFxPW7pjHkaErOwO2V2t7ecNDCySBa5tTs1TqJ-VhlG_yk2445WiKzVkisLPKI4oPb6WHmuSS-wjjsxrStnlbrVYDphETMujLQVnAhOEzU5sbo9dZJh7_3v1h0lBq2nMWw/w640-h360/ETC%20Picnic%20group%20photo%201.JPG" width="640" /></a></div></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Two days later, on August 30, Problem #2 occurred. And it was a doozie. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We were on what was to be a 20-mile bike ride from home, with a picnic lunch along the Interurban Trail. On the way back the bicycle computer noted that we had just ridden our 1,000th mile of the year on the tandem. Our lowest total for late August ever, but there was still time to perhaps hit 2,000 for the year. But that was not to be.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">While coasting at 20 mph down a long but gentle grade 2 miles from home, our front tire had a blowout. When your rear tire blows out, you have perhaps a 75% chance of a tolerable landing. When it's the front tire, that drops below 1%, as the front tire almost always flops so much that you lose steering and fall. And fall we did.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3pn4q0KHL_QPhebO48TCrLMExpHUhRNiPRDmLVYWcrYr1Xnz0SAHksB4CxbkxvPragE8aZqTG3hqwqevCIZgmdeigNzH22jrPpijFJExw9iv7vLbBb3oWChUQAsGdHqdNKEfBipocXb3j7Vw4Sf4ZirPndIkSY_lPSuBN_Q_u-YF0ke0e2J1l5UUkmQ/s2761/Aug%2030%20accident%20scene%20(2).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2072" data-original-width="2761" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3pn4q0KHL_QPhebO48TCrLMExpHUhRNiPRDmLVYWcrYr1Xnz0SAHksB4CxbkxvPragE8aZqTG3hqwqevCIZgmdeigNzH22jrPpijFJExw9iv7vLbBb3oWChUQAsGdHqdNKEfBipocXb3j7Vw4Sf4ZirPndIkSY_lPSuBN_Q_u-YF0ke0e2J1l5UUkmQ/s320/Aug%2030%20accident%20scene%20(2).JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Jeff mostly skidded, cracking his helmet and getting a palm-sized patch of "road rash" on his thigh, but nothing worse. Louise was not so lucky. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">She landed hard, also cracking her helmet and having a dozen or more spots of bleeding on her brain, though these turned out to be relatively minor and resolved quickly. But she also broke her left hip, her left collarbone, two parts of her pelvic bone and five ribs. Neighbors called 911 and she was being cared for by medics within 5 minutes. An ambulance took her to the nearest hospital, which took x-rays and CAT scans and said she needed to take another ambulance ride to Harborview Medical Center, the regional trauma center for Washington, Alaska, Idaho and Montana.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb0xwlswAj1VlFJ2mfT9sIIDPNxljdOoPCpsuAFdmnhb3dolVDkTn3rZhrboAgtiiKS-SvdFjNzSPp4xPdUY5mzj0SAzSciALCxrseuscH-9cZazn6wKahB4nXyCI5KVv1qK3stbfBbcpQGb2krJ8dESAfQBprd-6YxJHp0g96mPAGXatX4MGVj68Ozg/s2878/IMG_5123.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2764" data-original-width="2878" height="307" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb0xwlswAj1VlFJ2mfT9sIIDPNxljdOoPCpsuAFdmnhb3dolVDkTn3rZhrboAgtiiKS-SvdFjNzSPp4xPdUY5mzj0SAzSciALCxrseuscH-9cZazn6wKahB4nXyCI5KVv1qK3stbfBbcpQGb2krJ8dESAfQBprd-6YxJHp0g96mPAGXatX4MGVj68Ozg/w320-h307/IMG_5123.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Louise arrived at Harborview at 9 pm, and by 9 am the next morning they were wheeling her from the ER to the OR. After a 5 1/2 hour surgery, Louise had two steel pins in her pelvis and a brand new hip of titanium, ceramic and high-impact plastic. The photo to the right is Louise as you've never seen her before -- well, part of her, anyway.<br /><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLuWfDlVL6JsHB9kE4eG2ItnnWOT--nwnAKdBBR-FLVaHM35gqsMNVpI_D5Pz2vgqDDDbmPAUUscakyb_G0tw9DXmqrfERNNFssi3d1NGJtF-LR2464YrrWNpLAf0-5auJXnEuA6LOzAMWDP1u_d3VMScIIlafkY3l4Y2kIBdp3E0lcnIFeiYOUXZC8g/s3264/IMG_1138.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3264" data-original-width="2448" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLuWfDlVL6JsHB9kE4eG2ItnnWOT--nwnAKdBBR-FLVaHM35gqsMNVpI_D5Pz2vgqDDDbmPAUUscakyb_G0tw9DXmqrfERNNFssi3d1NGJtF-LR2464YrrWNpLAf0-5auJXnEuA6LOzAMWDP1u_d3VMScIIlafkY3l4Y2kIBdp3E0lcnIFeiYOUXZC8g/s320/IMG_1138.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>She ended up spending 11 days at Harborview. The photo to the left is Louise on the move to a skilled nursing facility/rehab center, where she worked on getting well for 32 days more. Because of the broken collarbone, she could not put any weight on her left arm, so could not use a walker or even pull herself up for a month. But her care was fantastic, with Physical Therapy and Occupational Therapy almost every single day, and the day before she was discharged we were able to take a 5-block walk in the neighborhood next to the rehab center. The next photo was on day 29 post-accident, when Louise took her first steps. The following one was taken on the roof deck of the rehab center, a tall building on First Hill overlooking downtown Seattle, shortly before she left on day 43, and the one after that is Louise arriving home to some decorations put up by our condo neighbors. So sweet!<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj-yxjZsFchU8YVXnbGIffTHs6_NCeQpbiTVsOX6kkkV2tTa2I0n65vk0TDGIqUKvOLCF6MfsOk6cbpkYiZvnDBIuqzavqxge7A4iki4wy4GGxq5THhMc-BcmXoUkr8_NAWIYxFFpOaHATUe6bwv80etux40d5JEZMlz6lrvgu9JFKL5S0nwIRQYK2Ww/s2448/IMG_1224.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2448" data-original-width="2448" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj-yxjZsFchU8YVXnbGIffTHs6_NCeQpbiTVsOX6kkkV2tTa2I0n65vk0TDGIqUKvOLCF6MfsOk6cbpkYiZvnDBIuqzavqxge7A4iki4wy4GGxq5THhMc-BcmXoUkr8_NAWIYxFFpOaHATUe6bwv80etux40d5JEZMlz6lrvgu9JFKL5S0nwIRQYK2Ww/w640-h640/IMG_1224.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkzkKQZdTjn5oNpaaXwl4w-8mxNso-nAYLl6Rds8fmqgHmlIm3LceiHIAB-EAFESjJ0aVW0_N4Yi8eSfC7lNV7w31XCs1UBKoSYQlQ1KsdMafLZVr3SD-bXi40Bq0opLIRDodL8cQznnAVRd3DxFP_sSnos1MbxBt9WH0xq9e5Le47Q-gxm1GMxgCbJQ/s3963/IMG_0042.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2643" data-original-width="3963" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkzkKQZdTjn5oNpaaXwl4w-8mxNso-nAYLl6Rds8fmqgHmlIm3LceiHIAB-EAFESjJ0aVW0_N4Yi8eSfC7lNV7w31XCs1UBKoSYQlQ1KsdMafLZVr3SD-bXi40Bq0opLIRDodL8cQznnAVRd3DxFP_sSnos1MbxBt9WH0xq9e5Le47Q-gxm1GMxgCbJQ/w640-h426/IMG_0042.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh_UtzBLentyWeyOKnRLzkpnBJdtI0n5Gbfroj-EbVQiWDHgO_aSsPiW4t93zVm53MzIi_LYnR0TH0vHxPGb9J3M7iba2tiAIoRbun_3Yb_P0-jKIfo8IyVDUDyH7vReK3y6RTx8S5V5SmDYe3AtpD4dMGNW7X-auhU_8cEViwN36VK72FdvMIfqcUow/s4032/IMG_0070.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh_UtzBLentyWeyOKnRLzkpnBJdtI0n5Gbfroj-EbVQiWDHgO_aSsPiW4t93zVm53MzIi_LYnR0TH0vHxPGb9J3M7iba2tiAIoRbun_3Yb_P0-jKIfo8IyVDUDyH7vReK3y6RTx8S5V5SmDYe3AtpD4dMGNW7X-auhU_8cEViwN36VK72FdvMIfqcUow/s320/IMG_0070.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>Of course the new normal for quite some time was getting Louise back to her old normal, or as close as we could. Four weeks after getting home Louise was getting in a few 3-mile "rides" on the exercise bike in the condo workout room. By the end of December she was able to pedal up to 6 miles at one sitting on the exercise bike. All this time she was also working with her trainer, starting with 3 pound weights, about an eighth of what she used to use. But she was dogged in her pursuit of recovery. And the pounds of weights went up as the weeks went by. </span><span style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">Soon after getting home we started walking along the marina next to our condo, going maybe a tenth of a mile to a bench and resting, then another tenth, then back. Next time, a little further, with fewer stops. Day after, further and steadier, and so on. By early December we walked 3 miles to the end of Golden Gardens Park and back, and in January 2022 we were up to 4 and then 5 miles, with rest stops of course.</span><span style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">Our next goal was to get back into the canoe, which happened the first week of March, just over 6 months after the accident. Canoeing became in fact our favorite activity in 2022. Here's a sampling. First, the two of us on the Snohomish River. You can't tell from the photo, but we're moving at about 5 mph, thanks to a 2 mph current as we ride the ebb tide toward Puget Sound. Then a photo of us next to a log ship at the mouth of the Snohomish.</span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ2mVRWUQxfDgcKIz7n69N6NZCvvppWtox6etUdijffuYKnRnli3HVKlMJdY8KH8mneLx-tifbXPWcLBE6_ZhvdyUQ2oyYRgrs4A5Pa2VkY0HXQyqb8b67eGFjOURqOO1ejrrWlHiLK7WCpiDTfaMavzb9dZu_F87IawT5wyJgk4r7c-2a_6pFf4KfKA/s4032/J&L%20on%20the%20Snohomish%20below%20Lowell.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1908" data-original-width="4032" height="302" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ2mVRWUQxfDgcKIz7n69N6NZCvvppWtox6etUdijffuYKnRnli3HVKlMJdY8KH8mneLx-tifbXPWcLBE6_ZhvdyUQ2oyYRgrs4A5Pa2VkY0HXQyqb8b67eGFjOURqOO1ejrrWlHiLK7WCpiDTfaMavzb9dZu_F87IawT5wyJgk4r7c-2a_6pFf4KfKA/w640-h302/J&L%20on%20the%20Snohomish%20below%20Lowell.jpg" width="640" /></a></div></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvWJe07VLPUSRSXSwtOzWo336q0iC9S-3aleH5_53hJ1qgRy0CVYI54kIICf-rhHjqdpgQU0RTB-QrVyI_CGFLdctTndj9xbVeK6yHfYvzwJ3uso83sWqPfFF3ezLkcPMV96c1kenxn8SbuHabIVdJwiOfhW6a3zug6eyRe4jE1jYajGJ0QW_ADZMeog/s3903/J&L%20and%20timber%20boat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvWJe07VLPUSRSXSwtOzWo336q0iC9S-3aleH5_53hJ1qgRy0CVYI54kIICf-rhHjqdpgQU0RTB-QrVyI_CGFLdctTndj9xbVeK6yHfYvzwJ3uso83sWqPfFF3ezLkcPMV96c1kenxn8SbuHabIVdJwiOfhW6a3zug6eyRe4jE1jYajGJ0QW_ADZMeog/s3903/J&L%20and%20timber%20boat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1309" data-original-width="3903" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvWJe07VLPUSRSXSwtOzWo336q0iC9S-3aleH5_53hJ1qgRy0CVYI54kIICf-rhHjqdpgQU0RTB-QrVyI_CGFLdctTndj9xbVeK6yHfYvzwJ3uso83sWqPfFF3ezLkcPMV96c1kenxn8SbuHabIVdJwiOfhW6a3zug6eyRe4jE1jYajGJ0QW_ADZMeog/w640-h214/J&L%20and%20timber%20boat.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><p></p>On McAllister Creek our club friend Sam used his fisheye camera on a pole high above his canoe to get this shot he calls "Small World." Don't ask us how, but his camera somehow removes the pole from the image. Nearby was a group of harbor seals, a common sight on our trips in salt water. That's the top of Mt Rainier in the distance, about 45 miles away.<div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNLMdflA-FCARnduap22dWwvSNixSMW_9b6taok4SlAFD-Zwdv0CI2c26FS-Gii9a2v3qdRarDKPKVpak0sXbz-hQ1Rt5TkJwx7n-iS63F6Jn_YDqHFPzICijrNl3XBm4DECxiFqueEA9htHIRcTQw_Anijd55Er1C9468eKNwqVfp0OfRmoGswXBIjQ/s1620/small%20earth.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1079" data-original-width="1620" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNLMdflA-FCARnduap22dWwvSNixSMW_9b6taok4SlAFD-Zwdv0CI2c26FS-Gii9a2v3qdRarDKPKVpak0sXbz-hQ1Rt5TkJwx7n-iS63F6Jn_YDqHFPzICijrNl3XBm4DECxiFqueEA9htHIRcTQw_Anijd55Er1C9468eKNwqVfp0OfRmoGswXBIjQ/w640-h426/small%20earth.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSkPEavHwIJIKr_bk0P6d7PLSK0RufJxs8eTpvDw4OPBVZceKoFj2VBgJZjidEYzwsnB-JTirgLHronPjNZYrARRV_l_kD85DtGDmIkfiLKb2gSDVKuxIgQ0FAPHIX5QzPbaTFKSfR-cTDndHRBFM7gn05ARHjQyjS_V978sx3h3zlwwHQGBb6MuKTLQ/s3267/IMG_5482.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2178" data-original-width="3267" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSkPEavHwIJIKr_bk0P6d7PLSK0RufJxs8eTpvDw4OPBVZceKoFj2VBgJZjidEYzwsnB-JTirgLHronPjNZYrARRV_l_kD85DtGDmIkfiLKb2gSDVKuxIgQ0FAPHIX5QzPbaTFKSfR-cTDndHRBFM7gn05ARHjQyjS_V978sx3h3zlwwHQGBb6MuKTLQ/w640-h426/IMG_5482.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div>And two more -- Sam and his canoe dog Lucy in the mist of a cold November morning on Lake Whatcom, halfway between Seattle and the Canadian border; and Louise on a paddle with Jeff in Elliott Bay, enjoying the setting sun reflecting off downtown Seattle.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMiL2HMSlwm63dJfHXDEvSbiLjGH6dWj4GasgnSRikKww7Tekrx7o49px31zBQHC2L152aSeoCHmOHljDoWLH7HkJ-jm1xANgfSI95igpg7jepK_ZiGtp9br_HZGfa9SUYoohI2euWH1dgA3CLxMN3HPswRtPfouqMW09KmdSJngEFiBmP7DRwvtRvzQ/s3392/IMG_5541.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1904" data-original-width="3392" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMiL2HMSlwm63dJfHXDEvSbiLjGH6dWj4GasgnSRikKww7Tekrx7o49px31zBQHC2L152aSeoCHmOHljDoWLH7HkJ-jm1xANgfSI95igpg7jepK_ZiGtp9br_HZGfa9SUYoohI2euWH1dgA3CLxMN3HPswRtPfouqMW09KmdSJngEFiBmP7DRwvtRvzQ/w640-h360/IMG_5541.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9DuGz7XKX0TJ-UcPZofCKzumWSaTf0BfLJbc8XgWsqB_Y1HDx1zfZBgYjEWJJIedV46KXQelH2_iIXPeKoIlQ5fwnEbaX4A1T_OCVgXcBfOai1NdnuXegwveIZGqdLSeijrG7Q-IlvJMDBASF0MnJpQL1-0Iq_MFpQl0GFLF8OeItcBnk1Xb_v-ek9g/s3930/IMG_0557.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2211" data-original-width="3930" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9DuGz7XKX0TJ-UcPZofCKzumWSaTf0BfLJbc8XgWsqB_Y1HDx1zfZBgYjEWJJIedV46KXQelH2_iIXPeKoIlQ5fwnEbaX4A1T_OCVgXcBfOai1NdnuXegwveIZGqdLSeijrG7Q-IlvJMDBASF0MnJpQL1-0Iq_MFpQl0GFLF8OeItcBnk1Xb_v-ek9g/w640-h360/IMG_0557.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div>And biking? Well, there were some psychological hurdles to get over, as well as the obvious physical ones. We finally decided that we would get back on the tandem but try to ride as much as possible only on trails, not roadways. Since most trails around Puget Sound are railtrails, there are never hills, but there can be gentle gradients. We agreed that we would not be zipping down the few that came along. </div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKNku0cTfH2SvsTb3Ea3M_t4gdXzign5yXwRBNkCAueHhm0zDNb7X6m9mUmo09ZjvyiXK6071PxTGwJqTfZpoRCrIwEwtKk6ql8e3H_DXkH5pnVD84xu_NabvH3bVEOngoPwjYDL3-Jrl441dOLpU4zqIPoCIUTyUXj4UT5Cj8gzXuIxsV1aPKZugUmQ/s2846/IMG_0363%20(2).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2846" data-original-width="2134" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKNku0cTfH2SvsTb3Ea3M_t4gdXzign5yXwRBNkCAueHhm0zDNb7X6m9mUmo09ZjvyiXK6071PxTGwJqTfZpoRCrIwEwtKk6ql8e3H_DXkH5pnVD84xu_NabvH3bVEOngoPwjYDL3-Jrl441dOLpU4zqIPoCIUTyUXj4UT5Cj8gzXuIxsV1aPKZugUmQ/w300-h400/IMG_0363%20(2).JPG" width="300" /></a></div>With these matters settled, we did get out and rode 450 tandem miles between our first ride in late April (8 months post-accident) and late October. We've long felt that walking and canoeing are easier to do in cold weather than biking, and sunset comes remarkably early up here on the 47th parallel once daylight savings time is over. Since virtually all our riding was in places we've ridden many, many times, we never felt the need to take any photos, so sorry, no illustrations for this part of the blog. Take that back -- we have one photo to show you us in a rare moment of wearing non-athletic clothing, when we attended a garden party for donors to the University of Washington, taken on "Rainier Vista" on the UW campus.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDPINWcvQJ0nbcat6cdv_oOuNdNwCF1SDxUNlUl25WyiZtLUcCT26_yAhYoMVYkNzZBsKsCOUFIKnr44N7vullRFJ5lUuQq3n8kZ07YgnGzRYUfhYbZK3DiYxVWecLVKMGFwvjcjxJYX9hb4_P2g4yA4NsIPiYC1X6aNjmOZ7Vx-j9wStAs_ws1yRAXQ/s3315/IMG_5640.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2210" data-original-width="3315" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDPINWcvQJ0nbcat6cdv_oOuNdNwCF1SDxUNlUl25WyiZtLUcCT26_yAhYoMVYkNzZBsKsCOUFIKnr44N7vullRFJ5lUuQq3n8kZ07YgnGzRYUfhYbZK3DiYxVWecLVKMGFwvjcjxJYX9hb4_P2g4yA4NsIPiYC1X6aNjmOZ7Vx-j9wStAs_ws1yRAXQ/w400-h266/IMG_5640.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>Starting in mid-2022 Jeff went through training to become an official trip leader for the Paddle Trails Canoe Club, and all the photos above except the one of downtown Seattle were on trips we led. We led trips right through the winter, and the next two photos were trips we led in January. In the one to the right, our club friend Damian is proving that his canoe is also an icebreaker. In the photo below taken by our friend Sam, we're kind of bundled up but loving this trip down the Sammamish River because the current is strong thanks to a few wet weeks that preceded the trip. It's not white water, which we don't choose to do, but a good current definitely makes it more fun. And we do fine with picnics at 40 degrees, thanks to those thermoses of hot soup and coffee and thermal cushions for cold park picnic table seats.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFqdSb2QodOS4OSmVeKxrdAmV4460Pyf9rVpSR1vHGIsv8JPrt1awqsH2NwbNcExqSIm1scgp88_G5RpDxbZVxVYtCkEOZnjK_gZEuc6p-IoUai_iJaG4EBw4NTa9jV7wtle1SBoQSqIIngAZlvfpomCkxID8Vg8d8yF-AWCx5ulbH2YSzfbpS0XbRrg/s4032/Jeff%20&%20Louise%20on%20the%20Sammamish,%20photo%20by%20Sam.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1908" data-original-width="4032" height="302" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFqdSb2QodOS4OSmVeKxrdAmV4460Pyf9rVpSR1vHGIsv8JPrt1awqsH2NwbNcExqSIm1scgp88_G5RpDxbZVxVYtCkEOZnjK_gZEuc6p-IoUai_iJaG4EBw4NTa9jV7wtle1SBoQSqIIngAZlvfpomCkxID8Vg8d8yF-AWCx5ulbH2YSzfbpS0XbRrg/w640-h302/Jeff%20&%20Louise%20on%20the%20Sammamish,%20photo%20by%20Sam.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div>So what's the "New Normal" we mention in the title of this blog post? Well, it started with a chance encounter with Dan and Marcie Towle, owners of R&E Cycles, the fabulous shop that custom-built all three of our tandems (one after another, as we kept upgrading over the 28 years we've been tandeming). They mentioned that they were going to attend the annual Northwest Tandem Rally (hereafter NWTR) over Memorial Day Weekend, and persuaded us to attend. We went to a few rallies before we retired in 2007, but we've been out of town every summer since until the pandemic, when the tandem rally went into hibernation like so much else. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggjPDGQsYQhwNLOVLovcEIuTS0KFSOjwOaJA4Y7gY4VJnplBs4y4Gk-Gf-i12Rln0Xq0bX8NqKUk5ZASi7hYFe6IhYmDLGPYUL_knnLRGLr6rPHEmORnA7mW4B4E2qVcunIVZU9LOtMp3luYrv0cO_I_IvJ1MvGgkElIwtXRnK_1whXYKmE6qCWKsLjA/s416/tandem%20rally%20Dan%20and%20Marcie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="312" data-original-width="416" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggjPDGQsYQhwNLOVLovcEIuTS0KFSOjwOaJA4Y7gY4VJnplBs4y4Gk-Gf-i12Rln0Xq0bX8NqKUk5ZASi7hYFe6IhYmDLGPYUL_knnLRGLr6rPHEmORnA7mW4B4E2qVcunIVZU9LOtMp3luYrv0cO_I_IvJ1MvGgkElIwtXRnK_1whXYKmE6qCWKsLjA/s320/tandem%20rally%20Dan%20and%20Marcie.jpg" width="320" /></a></div></div><div><br /></div><div>We joined a group of 240 tandem teams at this year's NWTR, then tagged on another several days of adventures on the Olympic Peninsula, and the rest of today's blog will describe these along with the tandem rally, and explain at the end how they have led us to embark on a journey to what we hope will be a New Normal.</div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpqE2hUmLD39VGSt53lVtQ4voNerxbOXMT4IOGAPb3vemxzNci1JeouE9MqnP57G5dLcDtwvbbZSExdHlk6JUODZpjT7NgA_jBCoq3Fd-JHEZeILOeFf__mkPwaE_LgRoY5xdzdEkim4cz__MQxZmb68DXjZQV9kueBdoyfb2LaV6mYRjskHaopvpZZQ/s612/Picture2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="549" data-original-width="612" height="287" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpqE2hUmLD39VGSt53lVtQ4voNerxbOXMT4IOGAPb3vemxzNci1JeouE9MqnP57G5dLcDtwvbbZSExdHlk6JUODZpjT7NgA_jBCoq3Fd-JHEZeILOeFf__mkPwaE_LgRoY5xdzdEkim4cz__MQxZmb68DXjZQV9kueBdoyfb2LaV6mYRjskHaopvpZZQ/s320/Picture2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>For decades, tandem rallies have happened all over America. We worked the Eastern Tandem Rally into our trip up the East Coast in 2008, and the Midwest Tandem Rally into another trip around Minnesota and Wisconsin, but there are many others in various corners of the country. The NWTR, like the others, is in a new location each year as local groups come together to sponsor it. This year's was in Sequim (<i>pronounced 'skwim'</i>), a small city on the Olympic Peninsula midway between Port Angeles and Port Townsend on the map to the left. The west side of the peninsula below Forks is the wettest part of the lower 48 states, getting over ten feet of rainfall per year in the Hoh Valley and some of its nearby neighboring valleys, but Sequim sits in the "rain shadow" on the back side of the Olympic Mountains and gets only about 20 inches per year, about half what most American cities get. It turned out to be a dry week throughout the peninsula, even in the rainforest of the Hoh Valley, but more about that later.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div>The Olympic Peninsula is separated from the Seattle area by Puget Sound, so our trip there began with a ride on one of Washington State's ferries, the largest ferry fleet in the U.S. The ferry approaching us is paired up with and identical to the one we're on, heading east as we move westward toward the ferry dock in Kingston. The Olympic Mountains loom ahead, the highest of which (Mount Olympus, of course) is 7,980 feet / 2,432 m. Global warming might change things, but for now over a dozen of the peaks have snow on top all year.</div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiogzGdGjBl1qlg9I3jNdIFFIMGBwEu532MA8ZK6lRsG6mxkRhFzHBLulxqnRI0grgEX-SZeRYp3_tHwxcyxFvmsLibdRzf_AGhA5RvKMl3R43DFRulv8CrmI4N9Q375WDdYR4jDTktI_NESv1GzISya4GUcwM-RtxUKU8VEmfymUVJKT55X0-oVeK9UA/s5018/IMG_5689.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2823" data-original-width="5018" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiogzGdGjBl1qlg9I3jNdIFFIMGBwEu532MA8ZK6lRsG6mxkRhFzHBLulxqnRI0grgEX-SZeRYp3_tHwxcyxFvmsLibdRzf_AGhA5RvKMl3R43DFRulv8CrmI4N9Q375WDdYR4jDTktI_NESv1GzISya4GUcwM-RtxUKU8VEmfymUVJKT55X0-oVeK9UA/w640-h360/IMG_5689.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3lMnnlX3xLRAKdu8vFNpguA99ldKKo1xHmKCkA8WV5wOoJY6J9MPspN_5-jg8Gguym5ezhQ6PeVPTgH0m_cKE64cL4R5OUZhbE35yUBseCPFxP8jsJHitbPXfCCKAIYN1QMzztemKwboIJCF3ZyP6pKUaMxIn88S5VjzNyrm5i8meFib-COjnVEX28A/s5184/IMG_5695.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5184" data-original-width="3888" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3lMnnlX3xLRAKdu8vFNpguA99ldKKo1xHmKCkA8WV5wOoJY6J9MPspN_5-jg8Gguym5ezhQ6PeVPTgH0m_cKE64cL4R5OUZhbE35yUBseCPFxP8jsJHitbPXfCCKAIYN1QMzztemKwboIJCF3ZyP6pKUaMxIn88S5VjzNyrm5i8meFib-COjnVEX28A/w300-h400/IMG_5695.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>NWTR had been set for Memorial Day weekend, a 3-day weekend with a Monday holiday. We set out on Thursday morning to beat the holiday crowds, and had no wait for the ferry. When we got to Sequim we checked in early and took the tandem off the car for a short ride to see part of the route for the longer rides on Saturday. Every tandem rally we've been to provides short (25-30 miles), medium and long (50 or more miles) rides for each of the two main days of the rally, and thanks to Problem #1 and Problem #2 discussed above, we're now firmly in the Short Group. One highlight of this ride is finding that we're basically in shape, but not for the two hills that have 4% grades. For that our 14-speed bike has a 15th speed, called walking. At least we don't have hundreds of tandems riding past us as we would if we did this on Saturday. The far better highlight is a charming wooden trestle, pictured to the right and below.</div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyhNrvx-bx0HvdynkwqLPFaYkCrvCEmKsYO79dWP0z8HkiyxJ4fGFUzvHFTa5pY17zVJgBPdbTQM3rriOZOr3xpHVn75rErBbOk9LAafCnY_j2CkNyI2A4IIXV0E2DkOg4QSHWDFfYQmhaA0dzJIGfibjqXGxKPvBmcSF3XH9yqAfAhIdr-r3Jga_VOQ/s5184/IMG_5692.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="5184" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyhNrvx-bx0HvdynkwqLPFaYkCrvCEmKsYO79dWP0z8HkiyxJ4fGFUzvHFTa5pY17zVJgBPdbTQM3rriOZOr3xpHVn75rErBbOk9LAafCnY_j2CkNyI2A4IIXV0E2DkOg4QSHWDFfYQmhaA0dzJIGfibjqXGxKPvBmcSF3XH9yqAfAhIdr-r3Jga_VOQ/w640-h426/IMG_5692.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /></div><div>Sequim is famous for having the country's longest sand spit, Dungeness Spit. It's 5 1/2 miles from the start to the lighthouse just barely visible in the distance in the second and third photos, and you're still a half mile from the end. But don't wait too long -- the spit is growing about 14 feet / 4 m longer each year as sand drifts eastward along the Strait of Juan de Fuca, the water you see separating the Olympic Peninsula from Vancouver Island Canada to the north. By the way, in the closeup of the lighthouse you can see, not clouds, but rather the snow fields near the summit of Mount Baker, 75 miles / 120 km to the northeast, Washington's third-highest volcanic peak.</div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjCXlST2VAW2VMEAmCx-gGyUkj0Qyi7vwPPmrKFhYhWQVRTd2q69DLhO3HdqjDosaQLIu45rMkPj1cazNukGgcv9x9AiZmyO7fRd2N0RJHYTB3npzG3gD5Y498tjGO14kVm75CFPF__RZGFMUZTnxArAFWm4q5BTFmfaowwvPFlM3LrpyMF7KlAHRHfA/s5184/IMG_5696.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2912" data-original-width="5184" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjCXlST2VAW2VMEAmCx-gGyUkj0Qyi7vwPPmrKFhYhWQVRTd2q69DLhO3HdqjDosaQLIu45rMkPj1cazNukGgcv9x9AiZmyO7fRd2N0RJHYTB3npzG3gD5Y498tjGO14kVm75CFPF__RZGFMUZTnxArAFWm4q5BTFmfaowwvPFlM3LrpyMF7KlAHRHfA/w640-h360/IMG_5696.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXNzFtTVxSSgFzKi18ozRZbe8ia7qgpDBGnxLm-1OYGjdNcch14WReIkIStP9GflXmuk3L0ceGVRY6bAVBm7-CqTpm88NNJKhXXp44cmG2At7q4MvO8Z_QVm6KnP3FO0vFVxbjJuaBrQHuVjHcJSR_qPG8qHqpPcia_RErpb4Y6FAj4BcB6JlpKSHbYA/s5184/IMG_5700.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2912" data-original-width="5184" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXNzFtTVxSSgFzKi18ozRZbe8ia7qgpDBGnxLm-1OYGjdNcch14WReIkIStP9GflXmuk3L0ceGVRY6bAVBm7-CqTpm88NNJKhXXp44cmG2At7q4MvO8Z_QVm6KnP3FO0vFVxbjJuaBrQHuVjHcJSR_qPG8qHqpPcia_RErpb4Y6FAj4BcB6JlpKSHbYA/w640-h360/IMG_5700.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0Yf8K3PM8xy1NOzV4DqZD2mVpCyd0TAm24_xh3wBAm3h6nreUeBmXQvmBtG-N7mFjOrFVL1D8H7dDCbpS5QU0E_7sw86bLDJ6nBVm_U0CEOATznj7yMAGqhRt5FZs7KbR5ZNo78BJRnm3ZbniRpnzwPnvo93m2CZ6wIoyEZd36vSm56pPsdU1xXGkCQ/s5085/IMG_5701.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2860" data-original-width="5085" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0Yf8K3PM8xy1NOzV4DqZD2mVpCyd0TAm24_xh3wBAm3h6nreUeBmXQvmBtG-N7mFjOrFVL1D8H7dDCbpS5QU0E_7sw86bLDJ6nBVm_U0CEOATznj7yMAGqhRt5FZs7KbR5ZNo78BJRnm3ZbniRpnzwPnvo93m2CZ6wIoyEZd36vSm56pPsdU1xXGkCQ/w640-h360/IMG_5701.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhKixc4sUbEyAePAz417AggYV2_r2VLCJdj8BZ1q99zDtz8PrvBK8TotpziAU6WkhZfBjS29pMmZv8AWEK3Mm88fcnDAlINNStqPRgp2GBtX-5sQB9NE9SY-_r8Q61fN-sRf2WBl-CNH_ugfRD2V6igUwHw0qu85IiRhYH4WdjSELX9fAhjOHB5NIgeQ/s5009/IMG_5713.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2817" data-original-width="5009" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhKixc4sUbEyAePAz417AggYV2_r2VLCJdj8BZ1q99zDtz8PrvBK8TotpziAU6WkhZfBjS29pMmZv8AWEK3Mm88fcnDAlINNStqPRgp2GBtX-5sQB9NE9SY-_r8Q61fN-sRf2WBl-CNH_ugfRD2V6igUwHw0qu85IiRhYH4WdjSELX9fAhjOHB5NIgeQ/w640-h360/IMG_5713.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKbT9ZuxIBgEgTzYbYoOeDSADezLH0mEeMkMf_oNHZmfXhmV4Qh4uI55sNAk0XTqPq2EWsaUKC9_sPIEhVMUQkySniTwtXVBCAElkYcpRn310z8rOBBzQl_DsWVDILf001zvNP6aeBJQSyz0vMJi2X6SOToHOL8t594P7sI_mQv2t3PR4apm-08mLSAw/s4795/IMG_5712.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3596" data-original-width="4795" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKbT9ZuxIBgEgTzYbYoOeDSADezLH0mEeMkMf_oNHZmfXhmV4Qh4uI55sNAk0XTqPq2EWsaUKC9_sPIEhVMUQkySniTwtXVBCAElkYcpRn310z8rOBBzQl_DsWVDILf001zvNP6aeBJQSyz0vMJi2X6SOToHOL8t594P7sI_mQv2t3PR4apm-08mLSAw/w400-h300/IMG_5712.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>That's Canada in the photo above, with Victoria, the capital city of British Columbia, in haze near the low spot in the middle of the photo. The white blobs to the left of that are a ship most likely heading to Vancouver, and many other ships go by day and night, dozens per day, headed there and to the Ports of Seattle and Tacoma. <div><br /></div><div>Going from a long view to a short one, here is a closeup of some of the kelp and an endless supply of stones rounded by sand and waves that one sees along the shore.</div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM-7adHy8w8J5Wfz0IevxdzlYb_e9bVGtREKP3QAkd4WzTuwp-f7qBTX4JSngomkqpjeagLsN646eIMuMX_zrV_yIPkcliJTmI4EH_eedjTZtYtum0zJpvwkbxl9Ca6Qk05Jrjtl0rYyhzo2nF2Na8M6pAsgLfRnksSX_ghOthdFfSVzkLAdynOyDW4g/s4823/IMG_5736.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4823" data-original-width="3617" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM-7adHy8w8J5Wfz0IevxdzlYb_e9bVGtREKP3QAkd4WzTuwp-f7qBTX4JSngomkqpjeagLsN646eIMuMX_zrV_yIPkcliJTmI4EH_eedjTZtYtum0zJpvwkbxl9Ca6Qk05Jrjtl0rYyhzo2nF2Na8M6pAsgLfRnksSX_ghOthdFfSVzkLAdynOyDW4g/w300-h400/IMG_5736.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>And finally, the rally. The 8 a.m. Saturday mass start of 240 or so tandems was led out by a chap on a pennyfarthing, as those 19th century large-wheeled bicycles are called.</div><div><br /></div><div>Not wanting to be caught up in the crowd, Dan, Marcie and the two of us waited for the bunch to ride by, then went instead for coffee. The payoff was a very peaceful ride, just the four of us on our two bikes, to the rest stop at the halfway point. While there, the medium and long route riders who had taken a side trip caught up with us and we were no longer at the tail end. And the one steep hill we came to? Dan and Marcie joined us in ambulating rather than pedaling up that bugger.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu3W1WrGh7G9yJejCy4PtY0OVsJNN5OwPxtwbPMPtRfun4V2f0bDq1FZbumS3xGkSo8TRGvJ9hXEU3of04APu5WnE97HufTYqOrujuzfvxl-k0tz_xi1fRq45_lDQfhBRq4aJCWA5kzFTVY42lqiFqE5NWeQAJbxqA190kIYGuSVTaIJxvt2vMLWXA_Q/s1552/tandem%20rally%20start.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="873" data-original-width="1552" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu3W1WrGh7G9yJejCy4PtY0OVsJNN5OwPxtwbPMPtRfun4V2f0bDq1FZbumS3xGkSo8TRGvJ9hXEU3of04APu5WnE97HufTYqOrujuzfvxl-k0tz_xi1fRq45_lDQfhBRq4aJCWA5kzFTVY42lqiFqE5NWeQAJbxqA190kIYGuSVTaIJxvt2vMLWXA_Q/w640-h360/tandem%20rally%20start.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaKC9t0ag-B9RExTGU2ECcnkZvnWI8hU5Yt1V3K6FJJ7dkv7HV4SLGYnMHyBhNIsR1nndPbgR8sq2mdQTrmiVrLIPCYjt2PPITWbP85oBObW5Th3BTXTpGq9M0ZbTtRpLG5Gc8GEyGltzBBnkQeI0STIgJda7JItC1yER1jPeU0axZwllEnWX-e4tTXw/s4794/IMG_5721.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3596" data-original-width="4794" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaKC9t0ag-B9RExTGU2ECcnkZvnWI8hU5Yt1V3K6FJJ7dkv7HV4SLGYnMHyBhNIsR1nndPbgR8sq2mdQTrmiVrLIPCYjt2PPITWbP85oBObW5Th3BTXTpGq9M0ZbTtRpLG5Gc8GEyGltzBBnkQeI0STIgJda7JItC1yER1jPeU0axZwllEnWX-e4tTXw/w400-h300/IMG_5721.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>That rest stop was manned by the Sequim Wheelers, a volunteer group that provides bicycle rides to those no longer able to bike on their own. The first photo below shows Dan discussing one of their vehicles, a quadricycle that can be powered by both riders or by just one. They use it regularly on the flat Olympic Discovery Railtrail that our rally used for parts of every ride each day. The photo to the right is of a wheelchair-tricycle-ebike -- note the battery packs and the big round device in the center of the rear wheel, which is the motor. In the second and third photos below, taken the next morning, you can see these and some of their other bikes waiting for the start signal, at 8 a.m. of course.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEo1xk7JVeP3F_nUTc_odsXLQzOOrqw-Z9ztj3vpMYVPT-T4FW4xXYGLdURZpjJEO_HzwWhWrqI_NHzdL2PbAmr57h7DGTjMeNWaRC0TNxP2zH_CfbhyKNIQcry58WNWpfxL-LAXteQ04az_UaCltwDNxEx4po_qgTyO_dd9VrtR610dYrILLNXiSYsg/s5184/IMG_5722.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="5184" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEo1xk7JVeP3F_nUTc_odsXLQzOOrqw-Z9ztj3vpMYVPT-T4FW4xXYGLdURZpjJEO_HzwWhWrqI_NHzdL2PbAmr57h7DGTjMeNWaRC0TNxP2zH_CfbhyKNIQcry58WNWpfxL-LAXteQ04az_UaCltwDNxEx4po_qgTyO_dd9VrtR610dYrILLNXiSYsg/w640-h480/IMG_5722.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div><div><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD23FPk8R4TvhP3Lzf3GT-wtB7R-SRP7sGPgGv0r8I7smfeMq4POZrfMHkuaTxZkAy4Q3iUw9-Hb27csCqH3ngmCS6Byzjiqy8Rb9JsCPbbpjuJj-tLww2ZHmigFKELyw-UBAzQEBrPZW6HuFxd3D246PZ3y86t2YIUdlT88jLVLgT4EfCA8mPGPkkIA/s5103/IMG_5733.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2871" data-original-width="5103" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD23FPk8R4TvhP3Lzf3GT-wtB7R-SRP7sGPgGv0r8I7smfeMq4POZrfMHkuaTxZkAy4Q3iUw9-Hb27csCqH3ngmCS6Byzjiqy8Rb9JsCPbbpjuJj-tLww2ZHmigFKELyw-UBAzQEBrPZW6HuFxd3D246PZ3y86t2YIUdlT88jLVLgT4EfCA8mPGPkkIA/w640-h360/IMG_5733.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5NP5YiU4LXI224BpsgLB7At-kKqJQAnvizEA2WusRvr1ZwGgkl__cvXKhUlR7q-W5ceyWcu6FrCATxbvBkIdotave9MBjYdo0OhBnKtX7-a0jVMRPhDcPugHqMGEraAt5Dr4wGIrdlj4Adu6dhyhlgpRSie6dn-1humC1CyvavPJCmRnkn3veQTiuNA/s4869/IMG_5735.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3248" data-original-width="4869" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5NP5YiU4LXI224BpsgLB7At-kKqJQAnvizEA2WusRvr1ZwGgkl__cvXKhUlR7q-W5ceyWcu6FrCATxbvBkIdotave9MBjYdo0OhBnKtX7-a0jVMRPhDcPugHqMGEraAt5Dr4wGIrdlj4Adu6dhyhlgpRSie6dn-1humC1CyvavPJCmRnkn3veQTiuNA/w640-h426/IMG_5735.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div>The tandem community has a long history of keeping active those folks whose physical conditions might otherwise have been a bar. Jeff, for example, learned how to tandem forty years ago by taking the front seat of a tandem owned by his blind friend Peter Dawson. In the Netherlands we've gotten together frequently with our blind friend Nico and his wife and tandem captain (the person on the front seat), Marga. At the rally, we enjoyed seeing our friends from the Evergreen Tandem Club Paul and Dianne, who stay active on their bike with Dianne's prostheses keeping the wheels spinning. And sometimes not, when she has that urge we all fall prone to, to check her cell phone in the middle of a bike ride.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigtH5DLasJXr1L_eylJgpRgZyixKTFYi1DOdfhihATasZBaOw1FDT2iK4Rvcp3Z3eTo8rwhhAgy6T9vYiFea0BmvG8_VYRo5TTXue9qSCNmaIhcAU0N7aqgxYlN0wc5XfiY2BsRhN1XzV2Rj-gWHTvRABpEk3cR4yKZDTXMykTFRn-ItN5NqLnRr6Weg/s1600/tandem%20rally%20Paul%20and%20Diann.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigtH5DLasJXr1L_eylJgpRgZyixKTFYi1DOdfhihATasZBaOw1FDT2iK4Rvcp3Z3eTo8rwhhAgy6T9vYiFea0BmvG8_VYRo5TTXue9qSCNmaIhcAU0N7aqgxYlN0wc5XfiY2BsRhN1XzV2Rj-gWHTvRABpEk3cR4yKZDTXMykTFRn-ItN5NqLnRr6Weg/w640-h426/tandem%20rally%20Paul%20and%20Diann.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL8Eg_N6gxHj265jDOHFV5KyXG6To1Q1bhv3JDavyWdAF5StFr_DJTPgPkXypeyzTgJJ--xDVYozvLnXnNWAO_YgwRonL0AKdqMFdN74S0JPV8BQqV4fKnZhKd12t2RG52PJMzOXTwaSxGK8uP9_2GORCGJGWVqjALjB8bDl2WMT9y7VCIVICxRlWSbg/s451/tandem%20rally%20Diann%20Dutky.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="301" data-original-width="451" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL8Eg_N6gxHj265jDOHFV5KyXG6To1Q1bhv3JDavyWdAF5StFr_DJTPgPkXypeyzTgJJ--xDVYozvLnXnNWAO_YgwRonL0AKdqMFdN74S0JPV8BQqV4fKnZhKd12t2RG52PJMzOXTwaSxGK8uP9_2GORCGJGWVqjALjB8bDl2WMT9y7VCIVICxRlWSbg/w640-h428/tandem%20rally%20Diann%20Dutky.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div>Tandem rallies of course attract all sorts of tandems. While most are "normal" tandems that look like stretched-out "normal" 1-person bicycles, one also encounters tandems with small wheels, recumbent tandems, and strange hybrids like the one Paul and Dianne are riding, with a recumbent stoker (the non-steering person who is <i>usually </i>on the back seat) sitting in front of the upright captain. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6360_ueGkdM4l0PhZu_UQfr5AB3fmAivgv9gD0q0Vc8zTlTH6dK3mhKMPGza9W8Q-XKGAKUI5p57uujlai-WuFzRNSIBjHaGWOBVEbQ6fI5zX0oo0yLsD-zj-Ty848ZIZdqAZ9r3dgti_YjbQEnsegK3Kqe7N6VcbUbPLtGU1yDjl9NZQbtlIRSIV0g/s4922/IMG_5763.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3281" data-original-width="4922" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6360_ueGkdM4l0PhZu_UQfr5AB3fmAivgv9gD0q0Vc8zTlTH6dK3mhKMPGza9W8Q-XKGAKUI5p57uujlai-WuFzRNSIBjHaGWOBVEbQ6fI5zX0oo0yLsD-zj-Ty848ZIZdqAZ9r3dgti_YjbQEnsegK3Kqe7N6VcbUbPLtGU1yDjl9NZQbtlIRSIV0g/w640-h426/IMG_5763.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnugUd4DHPHE2OGkTgAzhq3A0NX_qhe6nrE7b7HEp50-wc-5qxmF2EsFXMLcm5Ha56e0B_yL_mEF2AJebfnu3yh62t20XQh2Uc5CfWMomiXWf4YGEUK60_OUaWOLFoBq7eBt5dLLw7CqQXXp3zcqMUXabAfBdUpSTULi_AyEJFTI7p0L9Ru8EsVB3hPA/s3929/IMG_5750.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2619" data-original-width="3929" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnugUd4DHPHE2OGkTgAzhq3A0NX_qhe6nrE7b7HEp50-wc-5qxmF2EsFXMLcm5Ha56e0B_yL_mEF2AJebfnu3yh62t20XQh2Uc5CfWMomiXWf4YGEUK60_OUaWOLFoBq7eBt5dLLw7CqQXXp3zcqMUXabAfBdUpSTULi_AyEJFTI7p0L9Ru8EsVB3hPA/w640-h426/IMG_5750.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwgMv_3UXtbuBC3u-gWiAdY6CGLYS9cCwkP6yTTCr1__kEvJnr4o5jQtqtNir1znkiqWcYJPtZAKBxfgL_twbxH3po8cFeGMwfuvzzqx9B_1A0zPQbtKqmFtte99jJdiYBPwsUC3ZImm7tm6HIVvUH2OB67x8vnM_0-bZsmjz_3pmoOSpgeJZSxUCOWA/s1547/tandem%20rally%20counterpoint.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwgMv_3UXtbuBC3u-gWiAdY6CGLYS9cCwkP6yTTCr1__kEvJnr4o5jQtqtNir1znkiqWcYJPtZAKBxfgL_twbxH3po8cFeGMwfuvzzqx9B_1A0zPQbtKqmFtte99jJdiYBPwsUC3ZImm7tm6HIVvUH2OB67x8vnM_0-bZsmjz_3pmoOSpgeJZSxUCOWA/s1547/tandem%20rally%20counterpoint.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoaAdcuV7ETf3iprVB1E2UhWsMsMMHZ50in6YPrOQyCME3kG_wKDTIMcsacDZ1rB6G2f7yo8EcB1TQ8-kARTWsEdrcQxkv3sMe3S3-0iEn3CmnBrh6w9AP23dLhKfhwFKN4MLXTDIaKStNG10iN2Tvpo5UbDJUH5D4Mgw0dQi1OOIsx1Xe71wrE_dT5w/s1534/tandem%20rally%20recumbent.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1534" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoaAdcuV7ETf3iprVB1E2UhWsMsMMHZ50in6YPrOQyCME3kG_wKDTIMcsacDZ1rB6G2f7yo8EcB1TQ8-kARTWsEdrcQxkv3sMe3S3-0iEn3CmnBrh6w9AP23dLhKfhwFKN4MLXTDIaKStNG10iN2Tvpo5UbDJUH5D4Mgw0dQi1OOIsx1Xe71wrE_dT5w/w640-h428/tandem%20rally%20recumbent.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGdxDGNb5Oe5k6cuuwoFOQBfgoN5dW53pzg6njPxjHFdlsmZwvn6pU0BvFx9ryvHbYHW-mS994CJI8zZ-F47HqJgBIaaPF1RQkze8uSl5TdYddYcGcqUvHsQ9UAQPvGeh2ud-AhYL6uyCVrMFanQZmhFg5vqG3PuaaGDwxdzLt07hOiFcWzm1CvnC6IA/s1547/tandem%20rally%20counterpoint.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1031" data-original-width="1547" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGdxDGNb5Oe5k6cuuwoFOQBfgoN5dW53pzg6njPxjHFdlsmZwvn6pU0BvFx9ryvHbYHW-mS994CJI8zZ-F47HqJgBIaaPF1RQkze8uSl5TdYddYcGcqUvHsQ9UAQPvGeh2ud-AhYL6uyCVrMFanQZmhFg5vqG3PuaaGDwxdzLt07hOiFcWzm1CvnC6IA/w640-h426/tandem%20rally%20counterpoint.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD-BJ-9cgxNpT1KJjX_pV3PmS9Dg2_b4R74cngn9vwZ_qcadj3wJ0x_t4-zfLca81EnZQu8h0hJBMdjGZmzrKAcEI5jdavy1pCJKPJ770vWEX4lVDFdkmom0EDwduPafUjqx4o-ZYbHVHpstPfyfILAkjFeu0uYh5s6If1Q8TkmfB1ai5U1MGr7Joc5g/s4293/IMG_5746.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4293" data-original-width="3220" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD-BJ-9cgxNpT1KJjX_pV3PmS9Dg2_b4R74cngn9vwZ_qcadj3wJ0x_t4-zfLca81EnZQu8h0hJBMdjGZmzrKAcEI5jdavy1pCJKPJ770vWEX4lVDFdkmom0EDwduPafUjqx4o-ZYbHVHpstPfyfILAkjFeu0uYh5s6If1Q8TkmfB1ai5U1MGr7Joc5g/w300-h400/IMG_5746.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>While some non-tandemers view tandems as "divorce machines," our experience is quite the opposite. We see them as bringing both couples and families closer together, and we saw all sorts of familial togetherness, included those whose families include fido in the fold.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMsnj_OiLYKAFqevWMJx0ooyK8kspTlmcUuJ6qzcHeeCcPN3OpfV2hKn0i5czvw4k_PGj6urrV_zK3oNp0B1wXrN2apbDBcmkStq0dnw7jY03Lb8JSa1I3IpMlz5clctZat_VdS_TydVZobsiMsxBgR-vPYE047YEkA8GpzQeqHKH1TICJnV6w853Hzw/s3926/IMG_5747.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2945" data-original-width="3926" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMsnj_OiLYKAFqevWMJx0ooyK8kspTlmcUuJ6qzcHeeCcPN3OpfV2hKn0i5czvw4k_PGj6urrV_zK3oNp0B1wXrN2apbDBcmkStq0dnw7jY03Lb8JSa1I3IpMlz5clctZat_VdS_TydVZobsiMsxBgR-vPYE047YEkA8GpzQeqHKH1TICJnV6w853Hzw/w640-h480/IMG_5747.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK2ZzGJ49BF_ULcbWejhProDF5D0WHvdzNGZbd9FqNmglzCmEnQC6fSJaNQ2DS5pkUKROVqWMM2VlRluIrO7ZArel2Dxp0tsi2z2l5AVtmBNmTCW5tBGnCAyP1ZzD9aYzlSGxfxFxI6J_3eGScGmMqcPshMuJMFvKR7aXq8adFMVW6A-9p3hLVSE7tEw/s4600/IMG_5762.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3066" data-original-width="4600" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK2ZzGJ49BF_ULcbWejhProDF5D0WHvdzNGZbd9FqNmglzCmEnQC6fSJaNQ2DS5pkUKROVqWMM2VlRluIrO7ZArel2Dxp0tsi2z2l5AVtmBNmTCW5tBGnCAyP1ZzD9aYzlSGxfxFxI6J_3eGScGmMqcPshMuJMFvKR7aXq8adFMVW6A-9p3hLVSE7tEw/w640-h426/IMG_5762.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjkQDhJ7mBJqSG5BAFtALh_PMYt56u43K0XyDANZudnbPehDrmWv_SkbFCBbFnsCqCR4x_-Sz8KhGPb6Wvid90je-cpyMc1kk64HtwAMfRx6tnGeuyQ1y68pt_qWpsxhd16WfxoCBgxj2SET7McONgUI2WwUkzfqqLSSi2JFUKaPb8gJKS8zYtFp9L4Q/s4792/IMG_5753.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3594" data-original-width="4792" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjkQDhJ7mBJqSG5BAFtALh_PMYt56u43K0XyDANZudnbPehDrmWv_SkbFCBbFnsCqCR4x_-Sz8KhGPb6Wvid90je-cpyMc1kk64HtwAMfRx6tnGeuyQ1y68pt_qWpsxhd16WfxoCBgxj2SET7McONgUI2WwUkzfqqLSSi2JFUKaPb8gJKS8zYtFp9L4Q/w400-h300/IMG_5753.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXq1wof9nCOfLVCnnr9SnUGjtjFynMh2Z6DFSk8aORwVE5bBMtqULSPzpDexv5pE1BAp7wvZgtaRznXH545NPIjgnRr0cB7ip-ngrCqMu8jPpuXdh2MPv9imYpIw-kselwO6FCY24dpha9nSfcKhfAGf19WGwgXJLIXmEEznWx3VlFk_3pMIm4oW7ZPg/s5006/IMG_5764.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2816" data-original-width="5006" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXq1wof9nCOfLVCnnr9SnUGjtjFynMh2Z6DFSk8aORwVE5bBMtqULSPzpDexv5pE1BAp7wvZgtaRznXH545NPIjgnRr0cB7ip-ngrCqMu8jPpuXdh2MPv9imYpIw-kselwO6FCY24dpha9nSfcKhfAGf19WGwgXJLIXmEEznWx3VlFk_3pMIm4oW7ZPg/w640-h360/IMG_5764.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDKCw6HCKYxpbDG7g6OHRma7ecyDTf8G_gu_rBEruiAlJ6LHIh0C6gCdDKNrLA56TD2haYz-S-8PMCDq3oZInOlvApzSt3RIsBw_hkwDul3yDuVcNod2YQMW2H6peYSSYBKstXDpt4dc3SIczookSuHMNVAimokXMN9z7Z4lcjHeltQ_Y9LepaBYlN5g/s468/tandem%20rally%20team%20with%20dog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="312" data-original-width="468" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDKCw6HCKYxpbDG7g6OHRma7ecyDTf8G_gu_rBEruiAlJ6LHIh0C6gCdDKNrLA56TD2haYz-S-8PMCDq3oZInOlvApzSt3RIsBw_hkwDul3yDuVcNod2YQMW2H6peYSSYBKstXDpt4dc3SIczookSuHMNVAimokXMN9z7Z4lcjHeltQ_Y9LepaBYlN5g/w640-h426/tandem%20rally%20team%20with%20dog.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div>Perhaps the oddest tandem we saw was this next one. We're not sure if the rider in the red jacket showed up by himself on a tandem because he thought you had to be on a tandem to ride at a tandem rally, or if he just plumb forgot to check that his partner was on the bike before he left his last stopping point.</div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidPJVzTaD3ExSojMxd2anHbiBAsJjDdm49m0RexthsFPzDeapyiH-hwYtd82m2BvhaaQwu6OPBnOeJEyb1jpu7JGuASrHYbn7bWRxYAMB7zAvMARtaj7AeUbobsj8hBlF9GZGtX6jV29NxP0EfXtQEsc59z38dU1SfUzveK70Du_xuDbp9Pe0cCbjm7g/s364/tandem%20rally%20missing%20stoker.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="364" data-original-width="364" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidPJVzTaD3ExSojMxd2anHbiBAsJjDdm49m0RexthsFPzDeapyiH-hwYtd82m2BvhaaQwu6OPBnOeJEyb1jpu7JGuASrHYbn7bWRxYAMB7zAvMARtaj7AeUbobsj8hBlF9GZGtX6jV29NxP0EfXtQEsc59z38dU1SfUzveK70Du_xuDbp9Pe0cCbjm7g/w640-h640/tandem%20rally%20missing%20stoker.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /></div><div>Of course there was a lot of scenery out there on our rides, but we'll just share three views. First, the line of bikes on the Olympic Discovery Railtrail, on which 30-50% of of each day's miles were routed; then an interesting point on the trail, the renovated railroad bridge over the Dungeness River; and finally the river itself from that bridge. The Dungeness is reportedly the second-steepest river in the U.S., dropping 7,000 feet from its headwaters on the slopes of Mt. Constance to its mouth only 28 miles away next to Dungeness Spit.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6F3IP8cEl8s53tJEX_d00jiLoOVFVBTvHhIzJjqzx9FRAgYC_jdkrlaDNttgovQLmpaUXB_di4Wf4jKvvq7ZuF1eqBV_fuHJ3uPhaWGwQwIgyO0Imt-Ua3WX3Du3NnXv168BVu6LfcfdrZvm1z_hyE0ruJdoumzf07At4eFQUP1UtV2tjs4Z04RZdtQ/s600/tandem%20rally%20line%20of%20bikes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="399" data-original-width="600" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6F3IP8cEl8s53tJEX_d00jiLoOVFVBTvHhIzJjqzx9FRAgYC_jdkrlaDNttgovQLmpaUXB_di4Wf4jKvvq7ZuF1eqBV_fuHJ3uPhaWGwQwIgyO0Imt-Ua3WX3Du3NnXv168BVu6LfcfdrZvm1z_hyE0ruJdoumzf07At4eFQUP1UtV2tjs4Z04RZdtQ/w640-h426/tandem%20rally%20line%20of%20bikes.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXs6RjNGm8vnVmRYpTiwss4V3-3SMqMowWLccTsEiBxJf-oJC8vFuw3VsqPaT1MHSP8-I7P15ZHxLFs15peklxIWTiXy7VXE_f2GSOG9ptpojNAiLaqXKOtWGh4G9Vh4eo_jHxR7j4syG2uBqnhaBQuxiaVLt4sVlVAtPgPcCC9ygrlNGac0QZxGAIEw/s4951/IMG_5726.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2781" data-original-width="4951" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXs6RjNGm8vnVmRYpTiwss4V3-3SMqMowWLccTsEiBxJf-oJC8vFuw3VsqPaT1MHSP8-I7P15ZHxLFs15peklxIWTiXy7VXE_f2GSOG9ptpojNAiLaqXKOtWGh4G9Vh4eo_jHxR7j4syG2uBqnhaBQuxiaVLt4sVlVAtPgPcCC9ygrlNGac0QZxGAIEw/w640-h360/IMG_5726.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm9YmfjIPNmyvJY1PTr7pbXox8uzBdmIBNBMYwjiX_BQoqvHUmbahjJ4IW3SUdW8_hopDpBhbIG88k9Nha8Y1qvxJ-a-zhLX9_gM3OoH72kKD9GvEhZ5zg9OVrV1D1UCDsMBFtNfRSU0OYG6cxxb4QLIC1rF9NVFIvUQCxZCbiLQniK_7L6M-H8tq8nw/s4906/IMG_5730.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3679" data-original-width="4906" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm9YmfjIPNmyvJY1PTr7pbXox8uzBdmIBNBMYwjiX_BQoqvHUmbahjJ4IW3SUdW8_hopDpBhbIG88k9Nha8Y1qvxJ-a-zhLX9_gM3OoH72kKD9GvEhZ5zg9OVrV1D1UCDsMBFtNfRSU0OYG6cxxb4QLIC1rF9NVFIvUQCxZCbiLQniK_7L6M-H8tq8nw/w640-h480/IMG_5730.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGmFqe0NmsKOgnDaiQIziexr4tPnlTugCk-VdJqcw_rECAAKOgnEvoLiY91lMps49Xr5CHEdT_ZY0WRu9K2zX8e06dB3BCJ-No4tYJ16Na56XJOoCGho8XnKTg1HoCSvDdrjw6EA_DnGcxMi0a3RAXAD9nCO3z8rI4P-IbDevZh6RsJhM456pd76hQvg/s4510/IMG_5756.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4510" data-original-width="3383" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGmFqe0NmsKOgnDaiQIziexr4tPnlTugCk-VdJqcw_rECAAKOgnEvoLiY91lMps49Xr5CHEdT_ZY0WRu9K2zX8e06dB3BCJ-No4tYJ16Na56XJOoCGho8XnKTg1HoCSvDdrjw6EA_DnGcxMi0a3RAXAD9nCO3z8rI4P-IbDevZh6RsJhM456pd76hQvg/w300-h400/IMG_5756.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>We wore our Evergreen Tandem Club jerseys both days (they're there in the second photo, but covered up by our cold weather jackets), but wondered if we should get new jerseys for the mythical team the fellow on the left was honoring. Their motto is certainly ours as well. Thanks to some volunteer photographers for the rally, we have two good photos of us along the way (as well as about 50% of the photos of the rally we've woven into this blog account), and we do appear to be enjoying ourselves. Indeed, we were quite pleased with how we did and with how the rally went. We're very glad we attended.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS3JQEnJkqjgvpHzjx9i6ZWTOPYFKrCDOeDseIldUf3FdIbWH1JVAXUr97EjnqcOe0PbPwBPKxAf3_v7f3157pXFn0Jyz18RjXwrsCDKdObHc24S5y4VTk-9bPtXrKkTd9d74haEXYKARiFboTf8QOLHYl18Gjjm8zUHM-U3g8XRYxl5tnkeBuHc1oTQ/s457/Us%20at%20tandem%20rally%202.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="304" data-original-width="457" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS3JQEnJkqjgvpHzjx9i6ZWTOPYFKrCDOeDseIldUf3FdIbWH1JVAXUr97EjnqcOe0PbPwBPKxAf3_v7f3157pXFn0Jyz18RjXwrsCDKdObHc24S5y4VTk-9bPtXrKkTd9d74haEXYKARiFboTf8QOLHYl18Gjjm8zUHM-U3g8XRYxl5tnkeBuHc1oTQ/w640-h426/Us%20at%20tandem%20rally%202.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCRfNZO84tMR2oTEig4DRIPkZ60GzaXafRzpHHdlQD8ZJba_q4S1dNH6q_ZqCT0mYO6hoaMuyVtc-waKGIW5xoQNk-5J5XZwMvYLhijqctOcux2FTTT_Tubk3g0nRYJ1J1AVFJ14nggWiJckA8qnyfzCtCkH0zKo2Mw7z-VQFZOfxsXlvuPwrSk9S5xA/s388/Us%20at%20tandem%20rally%201.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="292" data-original-width="388" height="482" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCRfNZO84tMR2oTEig4DRIPkZ60GzaXafRzpHHdlQD8ZJba_q4S1dNH6q_ZqCT0mYO6hoaMuyVtc-waKGIW5xoQNk-5J5XZwMvYLhijqctOcux2FTTT_Tubk3g0nRYJ1J1AVFJ14nggWiJckA8qnyfzCtCkH0zKo2Mw7z-VQFZOfxsXlvuPwrSk9S5xA/w640-h482/Us%20at%20tandem%20rally%201.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div>Incidentally, for those of you who are wondering where Jeff's eyeglasses went -- earlier this year Jeff went in for cataract surgery on each of his eyes, about a month apart, and came out astounded. Not only was the world brighter and far more colorful than it has been over the past several years, but the surgeon was also able to replace his lenses with ones that improved his astigmatism, so that he now has sharper vision than he had even as a child! So often at this age, when we try to repair a malfunctioning body part, we can only hope it will get <i>almost</i> back to what it was. One never expects to get it back better than ever. But he did.</div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGn28L4UBmwHIsKAYhXU3Do-a3atS8UIX17Z4bM7up8z1lx_GhAxj99kj3X5zdp4exAeJnDjc6NO_yC-ymVeUtf-nJzLgEmOjfecuYS8X8iCeFvtqJ11xI0YLO2iclilXoTza7wga7RjeFlbeQILT4jhW4I_xMNPpV47_OAR6C7SUXy3YngQGYoHafpQ/s4969/IMG_5780.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2354" data-original-width="4969" height="190" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGn28L4UBmwHIsKAYhXU3Do-a3atS8UIX17Z4bM7up8z1lx_GhAxj99kj3X5zdp4exAeJnDjc6NO_yC-ymVeUtf-nJzLgEmOjfecuYS8X8iCeFvtqJ11xI0YLO2iclilXoTza7wga7RjeFlbeQILT4jhW4I_xMNPpV47_OAR6C7SUXy3YngQGYoHafpQ/w400-h190/IMG_5780.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>We stayed on in Sequim the night after the rally was over, and Dan and Marcie joined us the next day for rides from Port Angeles, a 15-minute drive to the west. First we rode eastward on the Olympic Discovery Trail to the evocative Morris Trestle, seen first in an old photo posted at the bridge, then as it is now. On the way back we took a shot of Ediz Hook, another sand spit that juts out into the Strait of Juan de Fuca. It's much shorter but far busier than Dungeness Spit. Across the strait behind the spit is the pale outline of the mountains that line the west coast of Vancouver Island in Canada.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsnnPrkjbqkjE5aZX7NEhm7KnVV3Vn3X96SJiDvpfzP85966FjZB3w9v0TrRaNd-hiZVR9TRXxcSrEaOSiUV2kCQxP3uZ4bLN-IeYiRy7TNLriVGRWYio6UnlCYSgHcx6h6eVLSdqXwPBFuh4nmY-jCvgVTfyBBwdZu7xjUK24btexJ5mLlVKf92dRsA/s5184/IMG_5770.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="5184" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsnnPrkjbqkjE5aZX7NEhm7KnVV3Vn3X96SJiDvpfzP85966FjZB3w9v0TrRaNd-hiZVR9TRXxcSrEaOSiUV2kCQxP3uZ4bLN-IeYiRy7TNLriVGRWYio6UnlCYSgHcx6h6eVLSdqXwPBFuh4nmY-jCvgVTfyBBwdZu7xjUK24btexJ5mLlVKf92dRsA/w640-h480/IMG_5770.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCLb6aQnszJeX1x-VGnG2ViSmg8agyLV0UEJjQL7wevGGB1aISVYcb3ZKeLGM2Qwce2_MlPyAZ04z8LvwG_nO_Oa4hzvjt0AJyr2x3ZIjyZtD9j2_Y9Gp1gvuH_tADHfFac4qJwO5OIfgoR176MhY9yNKxcxdFf5s7YvFrT15ticn_93PMP-_fB_vqJA/s4853/IMG_5782.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2726" data-original-width="4853" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCLb6aQnszJeX1x-VGnG2ViSmg8agyLV0UEJjQL7wevGGB1aISVYcb3ZKeLGM2Qwce2_MlPyAZ04z8LvwG_nO_Oa4hzvjt0AJyr2x3ZIjyZtD9j2_Y9Gp1gvuH_tADHfFac4qJwO5OIfgoR176MhY9yNKxcxdFf5s7YvFrT15ticn_93PMP-_fB_vqJA/w640-h360/IMG_5782.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div>After a café lunch in Port Angles, we headed west on yet another portion of the Olympic Discovery Trail until we reached the Elwha River, currently the end of the longest portion of the trail that is open so far. The hope is that the trail will someday stretch 138 miles, from Puget Sound to the Pacific Ocean, but only 2/3 of that is built so far. Between the rally, today's ride and one more the next day, we will have ridden on about 35 miles of it (much of it more than once, going out and back), all paved and mostly flat or gently sloping. </div><div><br /></div><div>The Elwha has been much in the news for the past few decades. In 1992 Congress authorized removal of two dams on it to allow salmon to once again swim up this major river. Their construction a century ago devastated salmon populations in this area, and likewise deeply affected human and animal populations that had depended on those salmon. Thanks to almost endless discussions of the merits and manner of accomplishing this, demolition didn't begin until 2011 and was finally completed in 2014. It was the largest dam demolition project in the world when it was done, but that title will soon pass to the Klamath River in Oregon and California as it begins a similar process this year, but with four dams.</div><div><br /></div><div>The bridge over the Elwha is suitably spectacular for this special river. It opened in 2009, and features a bicycle/pedestrian path suspended from the highway bridge deck. The Elwha itself was beautiful, its light milky blue color a sign that some of its headwaters contain rock flour from glaciers up in the high reaches of the Olympics.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3xYwLbVbThRWOK41vKeRuHT5lbrE1KsRVvSGGeovVKLurDo0U1HGD9o1a7RUwvbnt8aph1QWd9KGWPGNZsBlPcopkDBQ-VDNBIC-edC5agIAPB-o0fxbiHqua3ZsHJFGFgpmO5WJsF8VuLInLS15dg2hah0eFAKiO0y3B1X4shL2OLC3t61BEVy_HfA/s5184/IMG_5785.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2912" data-original-width="5184" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3xYwLbVbThRWOK41vKeRuHT5lbrE1KsRVvSGGeovVKLurDo0U1HGD9o1a7RUwvbnt8aph1QWd9KGWPGNZsBlPcopkDBQ-VDNBIC-edC5agIAPB-o0fxbiHqua3ZsHJFGFgpmO5WJsF8VuLInLS15dg2hah0eFAKiO0y3B1X4shL2OLC3t61BEVy_HfA/w640-h360/IMG_5785.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC4clLL2OqVwVOKW-Hs0czYC5fq93Hpy9UU8xEcx0a70_JzaVp7uR8zPTcDEJ0ikSl77s9kWx01cs2uE6r16QLBrWHBdjsZ_0XM7Px9IPVGuAcVNZPvLvlI0uJ_lwYqXC11QhrXK6kFUv3ATa95nVJrUZRxlO_mTry9RAvKvdcu5jTtEVuFFn6rXNHOQ/s5006/IMG_5788.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3338" data-original-width="5006" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC4clLL2OqVwVOKW-Hs0czYC5fq93Hpy9UU8xEcx0a70_JzaVp7uR8zPTcDEJ0ikSl77s9kWx01cs2uE6r16QLBrWHBdjsZ_0XM7Px9IPVGuAcVNZPvLvlI0uJ_lwYqXC11QhrXK6kFUv3ATa95nVJrUZRxlO_mTry9RAvKvdcu5jTtEVuFFn6rXNHOQ/w640-h426/IMG_5788.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU1L13qLER7AdfRr3wPdK_LzArnL1X4J9UI4Ec9nx9z1gAz38dUK0LYo3Upk3tO18gcMC1w2GzMg6m0IqrpOuLXDUJ1N3Z4bAj_KJqdiv0qPfEVKkv9oB4Q0rrIyMg8vltu7HD6sl6z_OgSOmaQ_2h59ijn5mPcD4IqFgbr0bGg3ZzP-Z0J1DDFa9KIg/s5053/IMG_5789.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3369" data-original-width="5053" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU1L13qLER7AdfRr3wPdK_LzArnL1X4J9UI4Ec9nx9z1gAz38dUK0LYo3Upk3tO18gcMC1w2GzMg6m0IqrpOuLXDUJ1N3Z4bAj_KJqdiv0qPfEVKkv9oB4Q0rrIyMg8vltu7HD6sl6z_OgSOmaQ_2h59ijn5mPcD4IqFgbr0bGg3ZzP-Z0J1DDFa9KIg/w640-h426/IMG_5789.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbF7wuRd6r0I84uMKJvouIsoq_76-hU6eyIcc41FqgAD7hT-zX4mWCwHrSSTULsJhJvUpRpvzUZgZiVJMaFC1gmcC4Sak71ez7_awh6NWEocLcHPlGZj4W31ZM-B5CJJsJRlLhDeIIbOOo4av4_guLqZzOKiAwDm5hjh9ndSTQ7mYvytttGkkrkkCGHw/s5033/IMG_5792.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3355" data-original-width="5033" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbF7wuRd6r0I84uMKJvouIsoq_76-hU6eyIcc41FqgAD7hT-zX4mWCwHrSSTULsJhJvUpRpvzUZgZiVJMaFC1gmcC4Sak71ez7_awh6NWEocLcHPlGZj4W31ZM-B5CJJsJRlLhDeIIbOOo4av4_guLqZzOKiAwDm5hjh9ndSTQ7mYvytttGkkrkkCGHw/s320/IMG_5792.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>That night Dan and Marcie headed back to Seattle while we continued by car around the Olympic Peninsula. Our first stop, for two nights, was the Log Cabin Resort on Crescent Lake in Olympic National Park. Our room was spartan but spacious, and the view across the lake was quite up to National Park standards.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBxwauwDK1ICjR03hdIMB1Hjm6YfKSi7Qz9cIEdpfH_wCT56tDRrdrDbZmvixDoAe6ynA6-yMRHigbeTf4Flg6bO99QA5UK16GE-5cNU6bcrVpr6cAFRL7gawPTX-x3nQbJ84TNF0StoW4w5kI6XGxk611ixc4d1rXFMwZsSV_32pmY9sYGNO1WhFuLQ/s5033/IMG_5791.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3355" data-original-width="5033" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBxwauwDK1ICjR03hdIMB1Hjm6YfKSi7Qz9cIEdpfH_wCT56tDRrdrDbZmvixDoAe6ynA6-yMRHigbeTf4Flg6bO99QA5UK16GE-5cNU6bcrVpr6cAFRL7gawPTX-x3nQbJ84TNF0StoW4w5kI6XGxk611ixc4d1rXFMwZsSV_32pmY9sYGNO1WhFuLQ/w640-h426/IMG_5791.JPG" width="640" /></a></div> <div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRcvoRPz7aT_sM4EsdZEVfXUA36DaCK3dSMrhOUUCtJiJB6bTHlsm9FoVGBpmHrb4J8A33L9lD5pIQmgJQpOudPYYrpBW7Suaskh7nyh7t_WsfAi_-Z2s1p8Mtb3nAFIyKmWngP9SwQF8j6QvddS-Y-1DsXZH81klvjxV7G0WMpz65MYwto95zwhGJRQ/s4032/IMG_0737.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRcvoRPz7aT_sM4EsdZEVfXUA36DaCK3dSMrhOUUCtJiJB6bTHlsm9FoVGBpmHrb4J8A33L9lD5pIQmgJQpOudPYYrpBW7Suaskh7nyh7t_WsfAi_-Z2s1p8Mtb3nAFIyKmWngP9SwQF8j6QvddS-Y-1DsXZH81klvjxV7G0WMpz65MYwto95zwhGJRQ/w400-h300/IMG_0737.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>That evening we drove to the Crescent Lake Lodge, a much fancier National Park lodge, and the lobby was indeed quite stunning. Their service was much less so, for they had lost our dinner reservation made a week earlier. We did get the same food we would have gotten in the dining room, but served in takeout boxes we took to a nearby porch. Sigh.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj60j3DiM-1hXLBWvkSQuNObUNgZqI8trM16AnmO6sJxoqHfEi4sp3JCffKjNB-yL166etYsReZI2e0Etxr_RwmFOSD4h7GIsaJ_-jey_o3ZsWVygse5ciuNuTnP4JNs8AzUOWWUqLhr2r-GNWhe5L7A51W_JhrDr72WMKjTdiWIyMXgKP4eBk2DaseSQ/s4965/IMG_5816.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3310" data-original-width="4965" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj60j3DiM-1hXLBWvkSQuNObUNgZqI8trM16AnmO6sJxoqHfEi4sp3JCffKjNB-yL166etYsReZI2e0Etxr_RwmFOSD4h7GIsaJ_-jey_o3ZsWVygse5ciuNuTnP4JNs8AzUOWWUqLhr2r-GNWhe5L7A51W_JhrDr72WMKjTdiWIyMXgKP4eBk2DaseSQ/w400-h266/IMG_5816.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>The next day we rode what we had come to ride, the Spruce Railroad Trail, which is now part of the Olympic Discovery Trail though disconnected for now from the Port Angeles segment. A sign on the trail explains its history. For about three miles it ran close to the shore of Crescent Lake and gave views of the opposite shore. It then climbed gently but relentlessly, first within peeking distance of the lake, then deep into the forest.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie4H3ryVPyW05PD2gAZrQCEjnSKm18oLmySiJRS6DXFeS_HPEzrCk-3_ib1jzcsRE-W-gOCvVihEn_owmKX2gonaxWthT4iVqAKeY_-tOJltH40kpWBzZ8f6bc8LYjKj-kr0Cj7QjkzziXnx36vhemP7CMnBt6rN7XUJS_fYxPv6dfem8Ix0wfaUuCrg/s5184/IMG_5807.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="5184" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie4H3ryVPyW05PD2gAZrQCEjnSKm18oLmySiJRS6DXFeS_HPEzrCk-3_ib1jzcsRE-W-gOCvVihEn_owmKX2gonaxWthT4iVqAKeY_-tOJltH40kpWBzZ8f6bc8LYjKj-kr0Cj7QjkzziXnx36vhemP7CMnBt6rN7XUJS_fYxPv6dfem8Ix0wfaUuCrg/w640-h480/IMG_5807.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9wBhWrvgMrZwYhDkCNo9GYpApl6y6InLrX4Dc63xu1_xeWjFpXTpGj7hQAuswiyEnOgnYimmbSFhbQ8xsRhJU0J1ytLoUDoGJgc0m6STcG639sODTUZOOqhl9jJSMeXfdKvjSwEuEbcYfAOs0o2FXVWUV3bievuO3UoEW3CHi2Dq2Cy66vlI6XgkvOA/s5029/IMG_5814.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2825" data-original-width="5029" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9wBhWrvgMrZwYhDkCNo9GYpApl6y6InLrX4Dc63xu1_xeWjFpXTpGj7hQAuswiyEnOgnYimmbSFhbQ8xsRhJU0J1ytLoUDoGJgc0m6STcG639sODTUZOOqhl9jJSMeXfdKvjSwEuEbcYfAOs0o2FXVWUV3bievuO3UoEW3CHi2Dq2Cy66vlI6XgkvOA/w640-h360/IMG_5814.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1oKs4ElwTcc-IKQObu0o-lnrmEPy89TcPpKffBm6bvzorPtaV284TJMm9i6p2Upnew1ySF9ej3aDG6gHeBBfI4k1ede_G3ANJx1OObp0hxEz5TP6iM6_vPZkDDTIYLZCbyBAkuH4pJ70-UUv0T0tLCsE8S3pGu0rR4mBFgDn2NwaH8Z-rMw-X5gKksA/s5184/IMG_5812.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="5184" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1oKs4ElwTcc-IKQObu0o-lnrmEPy89TcPpKffBm6bvzorPtaV284TJMm9i6p2Upnew1ySF9ej3aDG6gHeBBfI4k1ede_G3ANJx1OObp0hxEz5TP6iM6_vPZkDDTIYLZCbyBAkuH4pJ70-UUv0T0tLCsE8S3pGu0rR4mBFgDn2NwaH8Z-rMw-X5gKksA/w640-h480/IMG_5812.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho5ureyYjoxpHG2VudvsbWMTibB0yvV38MlMEbwl37koHaC1gksgczuhtXyjyXpVl9d7WY3cI-dNSkjKFXBGvgfQGYtgm3-uDeBEc3vzTR0dl4boPkJ0xH2-5ICjHnwrGtV-FMK2bckwN4Ii7mFfe1-vaqifiDjFybdNc-5FUUxLEdcH1slhv4CTmyqw/s5067/IMG_5809.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3801" data-original-width="5067" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho5ureyYjoxpHG2VudvsbWMTibB0yvV38MlMEbwl37koHaC1gksgczuhtXyjyXpVl9d7WY3cI-dNSkjKFXBGvgfQGYtgm3-uDeBEc3vzTR0dl4boPkJ0xH2-5ICjHnwrGtV-FMK2bckwN4Ii7mFfe1-vaqifiDjFybdNc-5FUUxLEdcH1slhv4CTmyqw/w640-h480/IMG_5809.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div>Lunch was sandwiches we had made that morning, and then we enjoyed a 3-mile coast down that gradual slope we had just climbed. The trail had three more points of interest, two tunnels and a short but challenging walk that bypassed the longer tunnel but brought us to a scenic place they call the Devil's Cauldron.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi74lwaPWgpiXDj8MRxkJinXzOb5ul13hqfM9Mmgweg9Zud6nJvHRCcSCcTlOUDVL4h1CEF92uKISSbmbRyYmyY7xpDqg1deWJDHyk4oKO-BQcxDPXp2TdeGVg1q4D8ems2iJuewb7xceQJ_bhOhvO3pvuQViIZQbweP0PjCAikva0sot9PB436ZMj25Q/s5184/IMG_5808.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5184" data-original-width="3888" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi74lwaPWgpiXDj8MRxkJinXzOb5ul13hqfM9Mmgweg9Zud6nJvHRCcSCcTlOUDVL4h1CEF92uKISSbmbRyYmyY7xpDqg1deWJDHyk4oKO-BQcxDPXp2TdeGVg1q4D8ems2iJuewb7xceQJ_bhOhvO3pvuQViIZQbweP0PjCAikva0sot9PB436ZMj25Q/w480-h640/IMG_5808.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvgPmFGjblJ5nR3Th4wXne7vCH2VD6oFkBq8LeDZXPzTKNbIYfNetNp2ODiqbbkvikBp4sphlXBrhaD4xZntxNAK4YPdxmJaHic4K1m_1sc2Ut6IMU4rlW3r_RS3R037CHd_pDkxsAeymiH423Y5Lrn5hfZnZdVNSZPZ8j00dEchajUw3sSgOtkki6Pw/s5184/IMG_5804.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="5184" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvgPmFGjblJ5nR3Th4wXne7vCH2VD6oFkBq8LeDZXPzTKNbIYfNetNp2ODiqbbkvikBp4sphlXBrhaD4xZntxNAK4YPdxmJaHic4K1m_1sc2Ut6IMU4rlW3r_RS3R037CHd_pDkxsAeymiH423Y5Lrn5hfZnZdVNSZPZ8j00dEchajUw3sSgOtkki6Pw/w640-h480/IMG_5804.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNEBKeDdyylktghdEyEYNAIv6tL_W_lpcFkrAhXxvAfCok489V5En8OwotpHeQHKjW1TxRK-QN_jLen936U0y8N0zOuwz0o6ASujh1ruGytzc6amP1dwewN8q_LuJU0IPqjeSD6cc-aBC8TZ1UieB8wSqcOKpiG6nO5g2HKdoN-oPjtNZKB_hf5F94Jw/s5184/IMG_5805.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5184" data-original-width="3888" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNEBKeDdyylktghdEyEYNAIv6tL_W_lpcFkrAhXxvAfCok489V5En8OwotpHeQHKjW1TxRK-QN_jLen936U0y8N0zOuwz0o6ASujh1ruGytzc6amP1dwewN8q_LuJU0IPqjeSD6cc-aBC8TZ1UieB8wSqcOKpiG6nO5g2HKdoN-oPjtNZKB_hf5F94Jw/w480-h640/IMG_5805.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSYlK1zgLR1mqgMDWTF9FYNfVTtCDjtCbj4Fi-gRBz-GOiqUYFOAorGM4VfkzkrYZ5QdVL4Uer-IT7seiWxcd7u6bSAVpF4Qbw3pdpbQgUu62GPt-wG9tneK3Rmz6C4wHYWygeHuLeBzAeW6HW52Cs2O6m3SCA7pbIMuERKFa_cLVBQUsGjEPXvWjTFQ/s5184/IMG_5795.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="5184" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSYlK1zgLR1mqgMDWTF9FYNfVTtCDjtCbj4Fi-gRBz-GOiqUYFOAorGM4VfkzkrYZ5QdVL4Uer-IT7seiWxcd7u6bSAVpF4Qbw3pdpbQgUu62GPt-wG9tneK3Rmz6C4wHYWygeHuLeBzAeW6HW52Cs2O6m3SCA7pbIMuERKFa_cLVBQUsGjEPXvWjTFQ/w640-h426/IMG_5795.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div>For the next two days, our focus was on rainforests. This graphic explains why.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1YsZcEiQ2n91IxH9tZqGXEm1wi3k70EN3Ceaxv8KRbjBgTeFrdU5LuY_IQx7GbGyl_sGSSY3cm9cZ25wjwBBjVDtnD4-z03lFVsGx-puZtkrLUaMeVIvbXmcJ4tBjO2eYYqetGNvdZ3hTU5he6cBbiTEHXRmkJ1qm4dYJ4FrXSkg-lLG7cITzmcDlPxnW/s3376/084%20Explanation%20of%20the%20rain%20shadow%20effect%20we%20were%20about%20to%20see%20drastically%20change%20our%20scenery%20(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1290" data-original-width="3376" height="244" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1YsZcEiQ2n91IxH9tZqGXEm1wi3k70EN3Ceaxv8KRbjBgTeFrdU5LuY_IQx7GbGyl_sGSSY3cm9cZ25wjwBBjVDtnD4-z03lFVsGx-puZtkrLUaMeVIvbXmcJ4tBjO2eYYqetGNvdZ3hTU5he6cBbiTEHXRmkJ1qm4dYJ4FrXSkg-lLG7cITzmcDlPxnW/w640-h244/084%20Explanation%20of%20the%20rain%20shadow%20effect%20we%20were%20about%20to%20see%20drastically%20change%20our%20scenery%20(2).jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div><br /></div>As moist air moves off the Pacific, it hits the Olympics and rises. Air gets cooler<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoFlMfnQI6m4lM9kEKVh3qPY3_4FMb-1MrJcD3zMVZOaiOOGVvCBM7SRRd-5GOCMLz7CXpHSETOeT-g2r1plzwxERnXk-4L1aXvydKEvvGwAijYOzxrO9CR1QRaymbYuwAVMSDTTkvJ_Z_vL3I7TEJ7KWAMGUEFjPXzzYjIB_czytCWsttmWvYvIB6BvN5/s4976/IMG_5819.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4976" data-original-width="3732" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoFlMfnQI6m4lM9kEKVh3qPY3_4FMb-1MrJcD3zMVZOaiOOGVvCBM7SRRd-5GOCMLz7CXpHSETOeT-g2r1plzwxERnXk-4L1aXvydKEvvGwAijYOzxrO9CR1QRaymbYuwAVMSDTTkvJ_Z_vL3I7TEJ7KWAMGUEFjPXzzYjIB_czytCWsttmWvYvIB6BvN5/w480-h640/IMG_5819.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>the higher you go, and cool air holds less moisture than warm, so it condenses as rain. Lots of it. <div><br /></div><div>Our first stop was a nature walk near the Crescent Lake Lodge. The yearly rainfall here is over 60 inches, but it's on the north side of a steep part of the Olympic Mountains. Not a lot of direct sunlight gets here, especially in winter when the sun is low in the sky at our latitude. All this makes it act as if it's even rainier. Seattle gets 38-39 inches (despite what the graphic above says), so this is over 50% more. Louise is standing next to a typical tree, not particularly old, and based on her height it appears to be a little over 100 feet, or the height of a ten-story building. Nearby trees are draped in moss, both dead trees and live ones.<div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPLEFBi7hZglV4xs4c-GO6vre3dHBsUHv_cQwyl12aI9vpc3AmKmWLdbJ0v-YMV5uueQ3NBeegeMxYj_2zOlolBMpnV_T__el4hE69NZAjCyqouZtTHvWnIRACaewkji971gmc4QJhtjqFK3cRTLIs4h2VNA6f1aKcyvDOiaKsa6WKGVER01gNkZ8Fjl_P/s4396/IMG_5836.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3296" data-original-width="4396" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPLEFBi7hZglV4xs4c-GO6vre3dHBsUHv_cQwyl12aI9vpc3AmKmWLdbJ0v-YMV5uueQ3NBeegeMxYj_2zOlolBMpnV_T__el4hE69NZAjCyqouZtTHvWnIRACaewkji971gmc4QJhtjqFK3cRTLIs4h2VNA6f1aKcyvDOiaKsa6WKGVER01gNkZ8Fjl_P/w640-h480/IMG_5836.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkH24aOYa5g7MeTDDajUaQp0se2FH8VHuM2Miwjgs8iLN9PKRq9JpFNdqCuZcXYPzOjKJLYNptoDAHRApxcz-zZlXwkyJy93MV7zTiFTgsSZNCUJto80sEc6EOrgHyc2IbS_GZEGnHvWwn8vCBDzTfOTdkI41tyf1bkAPiGbEl2lNx598XYcxxVguqWh5C/s5051/IMG_5840.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5051" data-original-width="3788" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkH24aOYa5g7MeTDDajUaQp0se2FH8VHuM2Miwjgs8iLN9PKRq9JpFNdqCuZcXYPzOjKJLYNptoDAHRApxcz-zZlXwkyJy93MV7zTiFTgsSZNCUJto80sEc6EOrgHyc2IbS_GZEGnHvWwn8vCBDzTfOTdkI41tyf1bkAPiGbEl2lNx598XYcxxVguqWh5C/w300-h400/IMG_5840.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>A tree apparently fell on the trail within the past year and was cut up and moved to the side of the trail, as the cut still looks relatively new. After taking this photo of the rings of the tree Jeff tried counting them, but was still quite a few from the outer rings when they got too tiny to count anymore. At that point he was over 150. There are not many living things that get to be a few centuries old, but the trees around here are some of them.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIyLakchAj4FOFKU6tgIfe1eakca_7ONRdX6sIwYdQIjc8z47dz1ypIVrZA2xbd00ENxXf0EkhvGTmCtxyF1q88A68ccz-NnSUxrK1ahiiEcTkikNd1orpSAvOuLj0CiUTJzhLrtn0OXVB6OTgZSVbQE0CWL3D6X2LZg2dLFw4RC3CALnGNjy8RJZMS9pC/s5184/IMG_5845%20(2).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="5184" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIyLakchAj4FOFKU6tgIfe1eakca_7ONRdX6sIwYdQIjc8z47dz1ypIVrZA2xbd00ENxXf0EkhvGTmCtxyF1q88A68ccz-NnSUxrK1ahiiEcTkikNd1orpSAvOuLj0CiUTJzhLrtn0OXVB6OTgZSVbQE0CWL3D6X2LZg2dLFw4RC3CALnGNjy8RJZMS9pC/w640-h480/IMG_5845%20(2).JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div>Spend any time in the Olympics and you will learn about 'nurse logs,' and see hundreds of them. These are trees that fell some time ago and are now melting back into the forest floor. As they decompose they become a nursery for new plants, particularly moss at first. In the second photo you see one sapling has gotten a start in life at the far left end of the moss-covered log, and in the third you can see at least four trees that got their start from a nurse log that is almost but not quite fully decomposed.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-RbVYws145SzbQxN605NH9CSfkkRAklknNGT0yDnkxtCFcGRfdcBHFyfUPCmLBAHKuqgphLx1F_py0COa0cNBd1JCRkKcoazGsE4lCK91FDGr9WIvhfYNBhMgphvKFQW5kNzcIiAzIqOtPXbr-hBq-EL5OvebSnCK0kRyBc3Td8XsJXdqgpGbfLeF7PtJ/s4778/IMG_5824.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3185" data-original-width="4778" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-RbVYws145SzbQxN605NH9CSfkkRAklknNGT0yDnkxtCFcGRfdcBHFyfUPCmLBAHKuqgphLx1F_py0COa0cNBd1JCRkKcoazGsE4lCK91FDGr9WIvhfYNBhMgphvKFQW5kNzcIiAzIqOtPXbr-hBq-EL5OvebSnCK0kRyBc3Td8XsJXdqgpGbfLeF7PtJ/w640-h426/IMG_5824.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguPsNO-IgzZ1W-_A-0i9EEp0n9d-9qKcJVPkaEEDw1u47VI76x4m7oGNNhA4d4C4_RfExNdO5Qh2ezZlFYk49v8gcJU1HPWXxQxs1xwozozhXDi2RPTLpOde4-7xl6P1yLFx87oxV1GoimkHFhjXfgrzFIX3hHk7k6jBHOx7oV5D7bGR_FhTBpEfmVCIju/s5184/IMG_5825.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="5184" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguPsNO-IgzZ1W-_A-0i9EEp0n9d-9qKcJVPkaEEDw1u47VI76x4m7oGNNhA4d4C4_RfExNdO5Qh2ezZlFYk49v8gcJU1HPWXxQxs1xwozozhXDi2RPTLpOde4-7xl6P1yLFx87oxV1GoimkHFhjXfgrzFIX3hHk7k6jBHOx7oV5D7bGR_FhTBpEfmVCIju/w640-h480/IMG_5825.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNf1wEO3unEvhnwElYui9eo_eEN66L7JMNp2EwRlpG3qEnIWwYizq6hLu6tErIYHLvqLE7Tf9Xlfxis3msMZw1ebHY-Fhwfpoa_cAs7cyyZxZJblwxFhBFNcgtpNayTSuX-9NGBq-T0RWYTTHnK9G5YBzqszHPDDnO0JCC0fUo3xehxY8OwGAG5DEZyGnV/s5184/IMG_5823.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="5184" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNf1wEO3unEvhnwElYui9eo_eEN66L7JMNp2EwRlpG3qEnIWwYizq6hLu6tErIYHLvqLE7Tf9Xlfxis3msMZw1ebHY-Fhwfpoa_cAs7cyyZxZJblwxFhBFNcgtpNayTSuX-9NGBq-T0RWYTTHnK9G5YBzqszHPDDnO0JCC0fUo3xehxY8OwGAG5DEZyGnV/w640-h426/IMG_5823.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjItL82htRtE_DwDsc2xcbqwZcXsL-Aah6vQRZnZ74YFn7rrQ0dCnUcuEg-bprS6K3ll18zLqc8NTBoMzCHEPAyM_rG56SOYaPT8p5P2FI4IMwXcn0O9QEqKyrdIH7WPjJwW8i1hW4VV-aIUPtYgRksWpWuq63PGjGeMAk5Zm89ceQOBNidJBpo577Cp3vE/s5184/IMG_5841.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5184" data-original-width="3888" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjItL82htRtE_DwDsc2xcbqwZcXsL-Aah6vQRZnZ74YFn7rrQ0dCnUcuEg-bprS6K3ll18zLqc8NTBoMzCHEPAyM_rG56SOYaPT8p5P2FI4IMwXcn0O9QEqKyrdIH7WPjJwW8i1hW4VV-aIUPtYgRksWpWuq63PGjGeMAk5Zm89ceQOBNidJBpo577Cp3vE/w300-h400/IMG_5841.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>New life is so strong here, trees sprout not only from nurse logs but also from stumps. Here are two, the first one with the decaying stump still there, the second where the stump has disappeared but left its form behind.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPvaANJnwlObEnWdLlmzMWQGozkyFi05nFxQydIonOHajj8iqA3yzv566pHXlBYy9CfXD5eq5CLiqioo1fOj9jTwG2BG6ridudL0XgsjlIhWyjlvxz7pXd2bC1SyKqBG_L0NYTfI_o6PKbivFfbyNQ9NoKbDFa-54_8ICxUVEfGWP3BF1kAqIEfrjQbDT8/s5184/IMG_5848.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5184" data-original-width="3888" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPvaANJnwlObEnWdLlmzMWQGozkyFi05nFxQydIonOHajj8iqA3yzv566pHXlBYy9CfXD5eq5CLiqioo1fOj9jTwG2BG6ridudL0XgsjlIhWyjlvxz7pXd2bC1SyKqBG_L0NYTfI_o6PKbivFfbyNQ9NoKbDFa-54_8ICxUVEfGWP3BF1kAqIEfrjQbDT8/w300-h400/IMG_5848.JPG" width="300" /></a></div></div><div>Of course, in plant life as in human, it does matter where one sets down roots. We do not predict a long and happy life for some of the trees we saw springing up. In the first photo below, it's going to take some effort to get roots down to the ground from tree trunks that are another 6 feet higher off the ground than 6-foot-plus Jeff. In the second, it's not a matter of if but when they will crash down for these saplings that are coming up out of a log suspended several feet up.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2EERWdnJaSyOyy9rIWGel4_e6EIE_JRUREaGZ37qPvW5TVK4l4mtwJgmO_q9dVvNgpMpFoLuWvtBs_wKmjFjf_Rzk67zy9QJdv77_njXL1oUMh-mDbR9lQt3v5DqWzwPXN4UElLNZqUqigiQ1wrJwPRhwGCbY_PEGD5o4ZzTf-ft4TYfouceJuelQPpRg/s4926/IMG_5857.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3694" data-original-width="4926" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2EERWdnJaSyOyy9rIWGel4_e6EIE_JRUREaGZ37qPvW5TVK4l4mtwJgmO_q9dVvNgpMpFoLuWvtBs_wKmjFjf_Rzk67zy9QJdv77_njXL1oUMh-mDbR9lQt3v5DqWzwPXN4UElLNZqUqigiQ1wrJwPRhwGCbY_PEGD5o4ZzTf-ft4TYfouceJuelQPpRg/w640-h480/IMG_5857.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3znm789s0fvFHU6Ck5bXjvM5EeYQlvSShZtThhkKDVZ5khnHt7duAwuAEKLn46pCoupKbtbuxHLXLwyhD4Csj4OZTRIYp9FMJ6lAYwPp67OY6D01cbkabB7xEu1dfGOG28yXlKEL727tIUkIZnfaOsAbHGBWNEUBa6of5Vzo5OwifSpNPAVh8iYwsYSYP/s4872/IMG_5879.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3654" data-original-width="4872" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3znm789s0fvFHU6Ck5bXjvM5EeYQlvSShZtThhkKDVZ5khnHt7duAwuAEKLn46pCoupKbtbuxHLXLwyhD4Csj4OZTRIYp9FMJ6lAYwPp67OY6D01cbkabB7xEu1dfGOG28yXlKEL727tIUkIZnfaOsAbHGBWNEUBa6of5Vzo5OwifSpNPAVh8iYwsYSYP/w640-h480/IMG_5879.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div></div><div><br /></div><div>We next drove to the Hoh Rainforest Visitor Center. The visitor center is closed due to budget cuts, a sad commentary on our national priorities of late, but there are two trails that gave us plenty of first-hand information. It's only 600 feet above sea level, but the annual rainfall is a staggering 129 inches a year. We were lucky to be there on one of the fairly rare days when there was none coming down.</div><div><br /></div><div>Of course it had nurse logs in abundance. Here are shots of one from both sides. Because trees that spring from nurse logs line up in a straight line, it often looks like they were planted by humans, but the wide roots are an easy clue to their actual origins.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixTi5_vGoCozOVxMzBXXVNZem7E8VgzlET6cXh_7QXNr-CL4TvAYYLhJOxyOvnFdJ1rgFo3clmHkKENruaACFlsZitPI1HIlC9ElS5td0QOrVkHwjFx-AVGYbvMjrzIibV4gEAUSnFSrn17zx0YrsbRc2oeYnwXb3U0ejgRsX8KbU51D2ZdeUUKRZ_qxM4/s4959/IMG_5843.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3719" data-original-width="4959" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixTi5_vGoCozOVxMzBXXVNZem7E8VgzlET6cXh_7QXNr-CL4TvAYYLhJOxyOvnFdJ1rgFo3clmHkKENruaACFlsZitPI1HIlC9ElS5td0QOrVkHwjFx-AVGYbvMjrzIibV4gEAUSnFSrn17zx0YrsbRc2oeYnwXb3U0ejgRsX8KbU51D2ZdeUUKRZ_qxM4/w640-h480/IMG_5843.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtIdbeLnEiypWE95ULutUYN41eYU1wCjlMv1NrKZo7aC7uoykAbkKATVBN4wZ6pcUlpVNMuaoiA01odAlI1i3Z7wAbnAm1VCKyD3JbfMghY43R10kkg9gJL1atZ6UHw3CYYumJKXb9UFoKWCHie8TmainhL_hjq1ZCVdEiB9dZYwBWjB7l8f3I3Gpm5WWd/s4865/IMG_5846.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3243" data-original-width="4865" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtIdbeLnEiypWE95ULutUYN41eYU1wCjlMv1NrKZo7aC7uoykAbkKATVBN4wZ6pcUlpVNMuaoiA01odAlI1i3Z7wAbnAm1VCKyD3JbfMghY43R10kkg9gJL1atZ6UHw3CYYumJKXb9UFoKWCHie8TmainhL_hjq1ZCVdEiB9dZYwBWjB7l8f3I3Gpm5WWd/w640-h426/IMG_5846.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div>How tall do these trees get? When they laid out this trail they ran it alongside a downed tree to give folks an idea. Jeff remembers walking alongside this very tree 45 years ago on his one other visit to the Hoh valley, and the smaller top branches have decomposed enough that it was hard to say where the top once was. But he walked 150 feet / 45 m alongside it, so it was probably once 200 feet tall, possibly taller still.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy20nzcN7-LC5HVPmSsel9vhTZwcjS-FFo5I2vN5yh5S0SA5fAyheRc1aTkf1q9PVhceHEyQ-yPzC1qvjP1Taz-zCALyNwcuMgYG9aMNUdOrBIb_xRZUo-_DYKeb1X55ScBiRVLGfv3AJqKjsyLQ1u6z_SQBOH3MKdjL9F9ffE2RRy74TOiE208pVooXQE/s5184/IMG_5850.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="5184" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy20nzcN7-LC5HVPmSsel9vhTZwcjS-FFo5I2vN5yh5S0SA5fAyheRc1aTkf1q9PVhceHEyQ-yPzC1qvjP1Taz-zCALyNwcuMgYG9aMNUdOrBIb_xRZUo-_DYKeb1X55ScBiRVLGfv3AJqKjsyLQ1u6z_SQBOH3MKdjL9F9ffE2RRy74TOiE208pVooXQE/w640-h480/IMG_5850.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDlbhrrzPC1v2N3y4AffffrwTXFEMonvVA1myagt6QWHxa5LrvcKZ1DFBq448AkRJ7jklFDioN4qk0LVSEQKqatijlPzW8OHAlLRB78ZW8XTFlK5ibHHb0ZVHQ75mSeCUlyNr0HPovjl97CNvjXymEhqqkXoEMhAojIL2DvdyQsaCehMlQx5dTPgn2YQss/s5184/IMG_5828.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5184" data-original-width="3888" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDlbhrrzPC1v2N3y4AffffrwTXFEMonvVA1myagt6QWHxa5LrvcKZ1DFBq448AkRJ7jklFDioN4qk0LVSEQKqatijlPzW8OHAlLRB78ZW8XTFlK5ibHHb0ZVHQ75mSeCUlyNr0HPovjl97CNvjXymEhqqkXoEMhAojIL2DvdyQsaCehMlQx5dTPgn2YQss/w300-h400/IMG_5828.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>They are also quite massive at their base, as these two shots illustrate.</div><br /><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7ZphlVi9Uh_FbCrD-_NCBmblFjbfqPBHv_V7zfPLsmzEq0dWhx8FC6dzEAubRluSUG2cVDJ2Rfu_CInj2yacQJnCxmk_CiLyfLSu4xWbwkTVRh6nqWqnwqI7Tam7lt6gR6yHuy_vvQv6olDm3dwJNufo2kVQM2qIaBP-7TQKaZBxrskxsgSIdpmACVIUc/s5184/IMG_5878.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5184" data-original-width="3888" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7ZphlVi9Uh_FbCrD-_NCBmblFjbfqPBHv_V7zfPLsmzEq0dWhx8FC6dzEAubRluSUG2cVDJ2Rfu_CInj2yacQJnCxmk_CiLyfLSu4xWbwkTVRh6nqWqnwqI7Tam7lt6gR6yHuy_vvQv6olDm3dwJNufo2kVQM2qIaBP-7TQKaZBxrskxsgSIdpmACVIUc/w300-h400/IMG_5878.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>After spending the day in rainforests, of course the place to stay was another National Park lodge in the rainforest. The Lake Quinault Lodge fit the bill. It's 97 years old and charming inside and out. We had dinner in the Roosevelt Dining Room, so-called because Franklin D Roosevelt came out here in 1937 and had lunch in this very same room. While here he heard arguments for and against creating a national park in the Olympics, and at the end announced that he was for it. He signed a bill creating it 9 months later.</div><div><br /></div><div>The menu for FDR's lunch is still posted in the dining room, and it was quite elegant. But so too was our dinner, pot roast for Jeff and salmon for Louise, both with quite the presentation.</div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNgBbnuI_wJgYspVC9M1ybwunv-4b7M9AixhHPtO-NUYuBI1EHj8FuDm5-bYyhkIm1AqvnzfPImnKeyRlb9J3sjoQkXfrS6d4GEP8q-gH6l3NTLNS7rqgqiK9UkHgLUo9UVE5HpTaDxqAnJKCyDck3ZUm-MuIww7S3lhUsNg9SksuFW12mpmOP8ppn9dXM/s5182/IMG_5867.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3454" data-original-width="5182" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNgBbnuI_wJgYspVC9M1ybwunv-4b7M9AixhHPtO-NUYuBI1EHj8FuDm5-bYyhkIm1AqvnzfPImnKeyRlb9J3sjoQkXfrS6d4GEP8q-gH6l3NTLNS7rqgqiK9UkHgLUo9UVE5HpTaDxqAnJKCyDck3ZUm-MuIww7S3lhUsNg9SksuFW12mpmOP8ppn9dXM/w640-h426/IMG_5867.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBDSiJVibzi0aD1vayJ3TgCrOVitJRirbcBVX4o56-Ha6LGkUljoigXq7rxrKKIHXFNT5vU5pzsY2wa1_-SmCCW4ReUNTN5ilOnAUeBORuCnnrZv3Xbm1-BmhGGfHzxIMnEjUO0mTzF2pe1--mGTMcJNFGL59KA5V8jWLHPRTfM_yEbGQ2xmvSAuzAcBwC/s4032/IMG_0741.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2268" data-original-width="4032" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBDSiJVibzi0aD1vayJ3TgCrOVitJRirbcBVX4o56-Ha6LGkUljoigXq7rxrKKIHXFNT5vU5pzsY2wa1_-SmCCW4ReUNTN5ilOnAUeBORuCnnrZv3Xbm1-BmhGGfHzxIMnEjUO0mTzF2pe1--mGTMcJNFGL59KA5V8jWLHPRTfM_yEbGQ2xmvSAuzAcBwC/w640-h360/IMG_0741.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOF-eoeqzKQ0SGcmk-h5tDFIoCcdGbDi9TbcEwtbtruSFBPyynLNWMXIfQkVfxomiOYi80DEz1d7I32WEzhFFifA2g_TawNue576M_HLIYwyToqDpNAxNeM1F_T1LR_m44Qmdgy02yWj8s8W3uyr7G-K2Ird2nlHnTfQWxy5Dvr1vMTDUgpH6jxXngKOtE/s4640/IMG_5864.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4640" data-original-width="3481" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOF-eoeqzKQ0SGcmk-h5tDFIoCcdGbDi9TbcEwtbtruSFBPyynLNWMXIfQkVfxomiOYi80DEz1d7I32WEzhFFifA2g_TawNue576M_HLIYwyToqDpNAxNeM1F_T1LR_m44Qmdgy02yWj8s8W3uyr7G-K2Ird2nlHnTfQWxy5Dvr1vMTDUgpH6jxXngKOtE/w300-h400/IMG_5864.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>The next day was spent walking yet another rain forest trail that starts right at the lodge and ends at the world's largest spruce tree. The sign has the statistics, but Louise standing at the base of the tree gives a more visceral exposition of how big this tree truly is. You <i>do</i> see her in that first photo with her blue top and black pants, <i>right</i>?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-KuUM5WVIXeBgJ8_YxFJ3FYorhqDayJXB0yDiy1aZWNL_yQ97bGQnrdq6geoTO09j4xREcEHJDHmFwexgY_zDVKGGqSzS48waOrVxdYJtGwVR_sp7Yg2vsYGnDh3M_W7rv9lRdk6__UwdZq9hDPSD0DXYgTs-Z08E4gajWYnGHh8dTsascLjBspa96-EU/s5184/IMG_5891.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5184" data-original-width="3888" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-KuUM5WVIXeBgJ8_YxFJ3FYorhqDayJXB0yDiy1aZWNL_yQ97bGQnrdq6geoTO09j4xREcEHJDHmFwexgY_zDVKGGqSzS48waOrVxdYJtGwVR_sp7Yg2vsYGnDh3M_W7rv9lRdk6__UwdZq9hDPSD0DXYgTs-Z08E4gajWYnGHh8dTsascLjBspa96-EU/w480-h640/IMG_5891.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZYBcuwQ3KLfcHXRorKGcZo2emMKFhLDoWUsAqg2FWjm4DJ-_cNXt8SvJ6O_ar30g1dMGYnmYuQSGq_mLpt-mhIGp6XdvSknJim5cNFKJ0rga6RcpIf8ALk-jpBx5xdBhJoUX9NvijAUjIzFxA09DS2KzpWuF3KQmL-ADXyr9wgbVABZzdWZtYBDdYw_-C/s3888/IMG_5892.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="3888" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZYBcuwQ3KLfcHXRorKGcZo2emMKFhLDoWUsAqg2FWjm4DJ-_cNXt8SvJ6O_ar30g1dMGYnmYuQSGq_mLpt-mhIGp6XdvSknJim5cNFKJ0rga6RcpIf8ALk-jpBx5xdBhJoUX9NvijAUjIzFxA09DS2KzpWuF3KQmL-ADXyr9wgbVABZzdWZtYBDdYw_-C/w640-h640/IMG_5892.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div>And with that, we headed by car to Olympia, gateway to the Olympic Peninsula and also the state capital. But our purpose was to take one more bike ride to help us decide whether it was time for a new normal.</div><div><br /></div><div>The Chehalis Western Trail was built on an abandoned Weyerhaeuser timber railroad line. The north end once connected to a pier, the south end to some of the timber company's forests. We rode it only a few weeks earlier, hoping to make it to where it joins an east-west railtrail, the Yelm-Tenino Trail, and turn around there. But we stopped for lunch 3 miles before that point, and decided to head back because we both felt we didn't have the fuel in our tanks to go further.</div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnJii33cS-ZWyb8S7nwVlWAlmAFZbDMSjQzfURvjeMHEZHtxBmTwgE9xHtubfJwt9oFfYFCjzuyxI0onX0VLKFs6ySEVZQljfco7gnknXbNaZF4xVaEKA4AmLGDGOMhwfSKAcNdZAKJPwNN70FNPukyvbxlpXt03HltwRVEC4QFbLCpKk1uZTpmEKfPaiY/s616/Holiday%20Inn%20from%20the%20trail%20end.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="274" data-original-width="616" height="178" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnJii33cS-ZWyb8S7nwVlWAlmAFZbDMSjQzfURvjeMHEZHtxBmTwgE9xHtubfJwt9oFfYFCjzuyxI0onX0VLKFs6ySEVZQljfco7gnknXbNaZF4xVaEKA4AmLGDGOMhwfSKAcNdZAKJPwNN70FNPukyvbxlpXt03HltwRVEC4QFbLCpKk1uZTpmEKfPaiY/w400-h178/Holiday%20Inn%20from%20the%20trail%20end.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>After a good rest at the Holiday Inn Express, we took to the road for the one-block distance it takes to get on the trail. Not actually the Chehalis Western, but yet another trail that connects to it a half mile away. The hotel is the tangerine-colored building, and the distance is about the closest a hotel can be to a trail without actually being on it. Whenever we come down this way, this is where we stay.</div><div><br /></div><div>We like this trail because it is so much in the trees. We love being surrounded by all the green, protected somewhat from the wind, and in summer shaded from the sun. Near the south end of the trail it runs alongside a Burlington Northern spur that always has between one and two miles of oil tanker cars just sitting there. Don't they need these things to, like, carry oil? Who knows. The second photo is a good representation of the tunnel of trees that the trail runs through much of the time.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGFwZFuZrK-7fpaa57eEeryz83NtLVMdC6gUS9nJ-d0JcM29GO2vjl0vFuv9WTrGyvs12DLKuNXMHOoucMr3PFUYT5IFbzGh8l0W7mJ6Fddnreb_5XnjofNOlyOyeG36KSucUdxEwNEPtF90hALCAzbZE6jcJcRxbZgbMME_w_dZT8M2N9O1V-7914LORo/s5184/IMG_5894.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2912" data-original-width="5184" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGFwZFuZrK-7fpaa57eEeryz83NtLVMdC6gUS9nJ-d0JcM29GO2vjl0vFuv9WTrGyvs12DLKuNXMHOoucMr3PFUYT5IFbzGh8l0W7mJ6Fddnreb_5XnjofNOlyOyeG36KSucUdxEwNEPtF90hALCAzbZE6jcJcRxbZgbMME_w_dZT8M2N9O1V-7914LORo/w640-h360/IMG_5894.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl9Ma-hzEJ_YxAZ-SiNOC1Iy3bWoL417jzcKxp0G3VtlBAQgScaQGDozUUbjAX7sMv1r7P5xsDEIoNSV_Hw_fefbDjJp5KHlNK0VC07nwv0REcLjWwNjvtS7lVpebj_HIqBSvJLx7tekqaXHrhO1BhbkV-WPMOnOTVrImGMLMs0LMstxnSWh2W57Df4R5T/s5184/IMG_5895.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="5184" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl9Ma-hzEJ_YxAZ-SiNOC1Iy3bWoL417jzcKxp0G3VtlBAQgScaQGDozUUbjAX7sMv1r7P5xsDEIoNSV_Hw_fefbDjJp5KHlNK0VC07nwv0REcLjWwNjvtS7lVpebj_HIqBSvJLx7tekqaXHrhO1BhbkV-WPMOnOTVrImGMLMs0LMstxnSWh2W57Df4R5T/w640-h480/IMG_5895.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div>This time we did make it to the trail junction, making the 32-mile ride our longest so far this year. But even though we did better than on the earlier ride, it did help us decide to make a big change, to what we're calling the New Normal. </div><div><br /></div><div>In part, it was the realization that this was pretty much the longest we could ride even after spending some time getting in shape. But it was also the confirmation that no amount of getting in shape was helping us get up hills. Even this rail trail, with its gentle gradient but for a few short climbs where the trail varied from the original railroad bed, posed a challenge. Between these two realities lay the fact that our cycling options were looking very limited, to rides that were not long and not hilly. The list of places to ride was looking very short indeed. And effort, not fun, seemed to be becoming the dominant theme of our bike riding.</div><div><br /></div><div>At the NWTR there were a handful of merchants selling bike-related items and services. A Seattle company called Bike Swift had a table and a charming owner/salesman, Henry. We spent a lot of time talking to Henry, to reading his literature, to looking at his sample bike. Bike Swift specializes in converting bicycles to e-bikes, including tandems. </div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR_1iXf4juA8qLkwUXfz6zm_p0egIg-Ojdp0iWdEJ1SICdnp814aMaMbOLaORhXkBhO3pg3xVu-EsXfH4X8WBOb-KDGpqkKcB7oZQiCKq2aQaIzaMcxIC3FWIPOohuagaaozero55rtNTR2YWrtYIc08sm_gDev3G76jld_Kd7TSZl8dD4EtVBg7nLl721/s4980/IMG_5769.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3735" data-original-width="4980" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR_1iXf4juA8qLkwUXfz6zm_p0egIg-Ojdp0iWdEJ1SICdnp814aMaMbOLaORhXkBhO3pg3xVu-EsXfH4X8WBOb-KDGpqkKcB7oZQiCKq2aQaIzaMcxIC3FWIPOohuagaaozero55rtNTR2YWrtYIc08sm_gDev3G76jld_Kd7TSZl8dD4EtVBg7nLl721/w640-h480/IMG_5769.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />We know two couples who have made that conversion of their tandems, and we wanted time to "sleep on" the decision, and also needed time to get some info from those two couples. The information they provided and the enthusiasm they had for having made the change went a long way to helping us decide to proceed. The ride in Olympia moved us the rest of the way toward the decision. Mind you, we're not about to do any century (100 mile) or metric century (62 miles /100 km) rides, but we also want to be able to do more than 32 miles with maximum effort, to tackle at least moderate hills that currently look like walls to us when we're on our bike, and to enjoy our riding more.</div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2clk6AG-tRGtisgUHUjU6dWgrqjZpSCtK8eF2kt4443K0l68EsQ4mFkf7KAHOnOhGDweG9k-i6jMaSDvCdDvZYaEauHKDMc-G6TPgY9_rJcZtsxWEkUCpLmmxrtl4A_BjHk7Z-o2qXcxSZiFTTOSq1kSjGWqaEB0TZVNbv4NppoY-3M8uROrtNAKP7Ww5/s4853/IMG_5767.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3640" data-original-width="4853" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2clk6AG-tRGtisgUHUjU6dWgrqjZpSCtK8eF2kt4443K0l68EsQ4mFkf7KAHOnOhGDweG9k-i6jMaSDvCdDvZYaEauHKDMc-G6TPgY9_rJcZtsxWEkUCpLmmxrtl4A_BjHk7Z-o2qXcxSZiFTTOSq1kSjGWqaEB0TZVNbv4NppoY-3M8uROrtNAKP7Ww5/w400-h300/IMG_5767.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>As we write this blog entry, Little Red is in the shop. It will get a new front wheel that looks just like the one in this photo. Our current front wheel is the same size and has a 2-pound drum brake in the center. This new wheel will have the motor in the center, and it will add about 10 pounds. The 475 kwhr battery will add another 7 pounds. This sounds like a lot, but the two panniers we have used in Europe weigh about 17 pounds <i>each</i>, so we're used to having that much extra weight on the bike.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Thus the New Normal -- accepting that we don't have the bodies we had a few years ago, even less so the abilities we had when we started tandeming 28 years back, and also accepting that it's OK to use ebike technology to deal with those changes.</div><div><br /></div><div>Will this New Normal of using assistive technology change our lives? Will we do more biking than we've done since the accident? Will we enjoy it much more? Stay tuned. We plan to write one more blog entry later this summer to sum up what life with an electrified Little Red has been like.</div><div><br /></div><div> 'Til then, dear readers, Happy Trails to You!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /></div>Jeff & Louise Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08667329438445463926noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4009287700201166763.post-14404160486490923082020-12-30T22:25:00.003-08:002021-01-02T10:30:57.850-08:00Staying Safe, Active and Outdoors During the Pandemic<div class="separator">We ended our last post of 2019 with this hopeful note: "<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;">We hope to be doing this yet again next Summer, most likely in the Netherlands."</span></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AGodUijR2As/X-FoNpPnOdI/AAAAAAAAYVk/bbS5MOX5w5EwtDnay7nd-sP0Sg75kD8KwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1618/IMG_E0962.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1618" data-original-width="1268" height="200" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AGodUijR2As/X-FoNpPnOdI/AAAAAAAAYVk/bbS5MOX5w5EwtDnay7nd-sP0Sg75kD8KwCLcBGAsYHQ/w157-h200/IMG_E0962.JPG" width="157" /></a></div>And as 2020 began, we began planning for just that. <p></p><p>Oh my . . .<br /></p><p>Well, as we all know, it's been a <i>very</i> different year than anyone expected. We were putting the finishing touches on our trip planning, 87 nights in the Netherlands and 2 in nearby Aachen, Germany, when our home town of Seattle became ground zero for the coming storm of the Covid-19 pandemic.</p><p>The good news is that we were able to cancel our flights to and from Europe and the 75+ nights of lodging we had just booked, although with long delays getting our money back. But back it came.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7jtK9jJsXzk/X-FqPVhsMOI/AAAAAAAAYV0/HfhqbnkPNEMgFjok59iYZUVbgwG0Ht82ACLcBGAsYHQ/s572/Seattle%2BMap%2BPandemic%2BWalking.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="572" data-original-width="330" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7jtK9jJsXzk/X-FqPVhsMOI/AAAAAAAAYV0/HfhqbnkPNEMgFjok59iYZUVbgwG0Ht82ACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/Seattle%2BMap%2BPandemic%2BWalking.png" /></a></div>What now? For 13 years we have gone without an automobile, relying on our bikes, our feet, buses, trains, and even the occasional rented car for a fun weekend out of town. With the pandemic, none but the bikes and the feet were safe, and then only with care to keep distant from others. We managed, but our walks were always out-and-back within a 3 or at most 4 mile radius of home. Since we live in the Ballard neighborhood of Seattle on the edge of Puget Sound, hemmed in by it to the west and by the Ship Canal that cuts across Seattle to the south, the area we could explore on foot and without taking a bus was very, very limited. We got to know it far too well.<p></p><p>On the tandem we could of course go further, but Seattle is a hilly place. Rome notoriously has 7 hills, and that led many in early days to refer to the Seven Hills of Seattle, but depending on whom you ask it's actually anywhere from 10 to 15 places worthy of the title. 4 of them are over 450' (140 m), and none of those is terribly far from Puget Sound, elevation zero. So biking tends to follow certain routes that avoid these topographic challenges as well as those created by motor vehicle traffic, and that somewhat limited the variety we could build into our biking program.<br /></p><p>Indeed, the first and last 4 miles of 90% of our rides followed the exact same escape route from our perch on Puget Sound. It's a nice route, half of it on the fabulous Burke-Gilman Bike Path, but it's still the same route, again and again and again. And while we could obviously go further by bike, we still couldn't get out of the city itself and make it home the same day, so rides in the more open and leafy areas just outside the city like the Sammamish and Green River Valleys were not an option. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6EELHzqweFw/X90waJzCiiI/AAAAAAAAYVA/KKFqgnBpNDsJBsuFm4Upft3iuzFwo87UQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1596/IMG_0474.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="898" data-original-width="1596" height="181" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6EELHzqweFw/X90waJzCiiI/AAAAAAAAYVA/KKFqgnBpNDsJBsuFm4Upft3iuzFwo87UQCLcBGAsYHQ/w320-h181/IMG_0474.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>And that is when we decided to look for a car. At the end of May be purchased a new 2019 KIA Niro, a hybrid car that has been getting ~45 mpg (19 km/l) for the six months we've now owned it. One of the first things we did next was to purchase a car-top rack on which to mount the Tandem Topper bike carrier we've stored for the past 13 years. That done, we began the first of several trips where we drove 15-20 miles from home and <i>then</i> started biking, exploring both old favorites such as the aforementioned valleys, plus tracked down several obscure bike trails we'd never explored before and added them to our mental database of interesting places to bike in the Seattle area.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-O2WIUag_UVI/X90xGtKy0dI/AAAAAAAAYVI/SGTiXiPnIwMwEE8wYs1r0gCTJduy6v07wCLcBGAsYHQ/s3540/IMG_4583.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2654" data-original-width="3540" height="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-O2WIUag_UVI/X90xGtKy0dI/AAAAAAAAYVI/SGTiXiPnIwMwEE8wYs1r0gCTJduy6v07wCLcBGAsYHQ/w320-h240/IMG_4583.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p>And THEN we said to ourselves, "You've now got a rack on your car, why not get a canoe to put on top of that rack?" Why not, indeed. With perseverance and the assistance of Craigslist.com, we finally found someone 100 miles away who was selling an Old Town 16' canoe for about 1/3 of its cost when it was new a decade ago. It had some gouges in the royalex skin that Jeff fixed with $10 worth of marine putty and prettied up with a little spray paint to cover the repairs, and we now had ourselves a terrific boat. More about it shortly. The irony created by the pandemic is that buying a car enabled us to be <i>more</i> active by giving us access to more interesting places outdoors to stay active.<br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-r30IjF68_4o/X-aEUPv26FI/AAAAAAAAYWA/XPA8IWlFTeESKXeAL9qcN_NnpnhrRrljQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1884/IMG_0982.PNG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1884" data-original-width="1491" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-r30IjF68_4o/X-aEUPv26FI/AAAAAAAAYWA/XPA8IWlFTeESKXeAL9qcN_NnpnhrRrljQCLcBGAsYHQ/w253-h320/IMG_0982.PNG" width="253" /></a></div>So, how <i>have</i> we done staying active during this challenging time? Overall, pretty good we think. We focused not on the places we no longer could go visit, but rather on local ones we could discover anew and with closer looks. For years we have indulged our obsessive-compulsive tendencies by tracking our walking and biking miles, and programmed an Excel spreadsheet to see if we're staying above our goal of 5 miles of walking per day (factoring canoeing at par and 5 miles of biking to equal 1 mile of walking). This is roughly the same goal as 10,000 steps, a common goal for fitness enthusiasts. As we close out 2020, we have in fact met our goal once again, and are only slightly lower than in the past few years. We're chalking up that small decline to minor limitations imposed by the coronavirus, of course, and <i>not at all</i> to being in our "declining years."<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-49kRqXEWKwE/X-anwHVW4AI/AAAAAAAAYWY/Xv0DfuGCeB87mlonCeYzz4HnM6PGgR0pQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_0485%2B%25282%2529.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2047" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-49kRqXEWKwE/X-anwHVW4AI/AAAAAAAAYWY/Xv0DfuGCeB87mlonCeYzz4HnM6PGgR0pQCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/IMG_0485%2B%25282%2529.JPG" /></a><span style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: left;">It helped immeasurably that we are fortunate to live in an interesting location, on the shore of Puget Sound just south of the Shilshole Marina (the largest one in Seattle with berths for over 1,400 boats). Our condo unit overlooks the marina, and the condo development has a private gate to a pier that you see in the foreground of the photo below, taken on one of our rare but exciting foggy mornings. That pier connects to a mile-long walkway the length of the marina. From there the path continues another half-mile through Golden Gardens Park, where a freshwater pond next to the beach is both a turn-around spot plus a place to check out the resident turtles and ducks. When the weather was "iffy" we could, and did, do this walk for a pleasant hour-long stroll, with an eye on the clouds to the west to be sure we could scurry back if need be.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Sh1OC6W9cZw/X-uAcXSsWwI/AAAAAAAAYkg/V4Z8tYOiBaMVsbucGED7dmJZhj84FZ0fgCLcBGAsYHQ/s3233/IMG_4960.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1816" data-original-width="3233" height="360" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Sh1OC6W9cZw/X-uAcXSsWwI/AAAAAAAAYkg/V4Z8tYOiBaMVsbucGED7dmJZhj84FZ0fgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h360/IMG_4960.JPG" width="640" /></a></div></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: right;"><br /></div><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Smhk34pzZMQ/X-aqcH4c_8I/AAAAAAAAYWk/W_R-bbu-Kx4ATr4modGlesHMCYvfspxcQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/20200323_115755.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1365" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Smhk34pzZMQ/X-aqcH4c_8I/AAAAAAAAYWk/W_R-bbu-Kx4ATr4modGlesHMCYvfspxcQCLcBGAsYHQ/w426-h640/20200323_115755.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>Another common walk went to Golden Gardens Park, then climbed 325 feet (100 m) up the steep bluff to a wonderful lookout. That's our condo just beyond the marina. We did this 5-mile walk so often we came up with variants, zig-zagging different streets on the descent through a residential area until we had walked virtually every block in a 50-block area. When <i>that</i> was old hat Jeff printed a map of the neighborhood showing the estimated value of each house near the edge of the bluff, and we took turns guessing what Zillow thought certain ones would sell for. Needless to say, houses with some sort of view of Puget Sound were $50-100,000 pricier than similar houses a block or two away, while houses with spectacular views like this one could add multiples of that to the selling price.<br /><p></p><p></p>Other walks combined utility and exercise, as we walked to the public library when it finally reopened for pick-up only (we could reserve books and dvds online and select our local branch for pick-up). That was a 4-mile walk without detours, and once again we alternated our route each time until there was no block we had not perused in that entire part of Ballard as well. Since this area is residential and the streets do not lead to other neighborhoods, walking was particularly safe. On the few occasions, maybe once each ten minutes of walking, that someone was walking toward us on the sidewalk, either we or they would simply step out into the street or to the sidewalk on the other side. Car traffic was so light that we almost never had to pause to let one by. Stay six feet away? We rarely came within ten feet. And of course we had our masks to slip on if we saw a close encounter coming. <div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GWiSuglVRhA/X-awq-G7XoI/AAAAAAAAYWw/Fgho6vYaW4UxWsMe4FqE8lTr1H1kE4cAQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_0463.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GWiSuglVRhA/X-awq-G7XoI/AAAAAAAAYWw/Fgho6vYaW4UxWsMe4FqE8lTr1H1kE4cAQCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h300/IMG_0463.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>Another destination was a fruit and vegetable stand that was a 5-mile round trip, and on one occasion we packed a picnic lunch and ate it at a tiny park on the way there. It's called Ballard Corners Park, and occupies a parcel of land that once held 2 houses and a corner grocery store. Jeff is enjoying a Vietnamese <i>bun</i> lunch we picked up on the way. As you can see, our lunch table recreates a soda fountain the store once had, and signs on the table and in the display to his right told the story of Ballard's corner stores a century ago, when people obtained their groceries by walking to the nearest small market, almost always on a corner, and supermarkets were a thing unknown.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2SMOemnDPcA/X-efoYkPwHI/AAAAAAAAYZE/Fzc53r3Jc6MtbpL5kAuGYEsRJSoikXtagCLcBGAsYHQ/s1507/IMG_0958.PNG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1507" data-original-width="1189" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2SMOemnDPcA/X-efoYkPwHI/AAAAAAAAYZE/Fzc53r3Jc6MtbpL5kAuGYEsRJSoikXtagCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/IMG_0958.PNG" /></a></div><p>As the the Great Toilet Paper Shortage of 2020 ended and the weather warmed, both unconnected but happy events, we were able to have picnic lunches more often, and started biking to new places. A 20-mile r/t bike ride brought us to Ella Bailey Park, which we had never seen before. As you can see in the photo below, we had quite a vista to enjoy during lunch, though we did have to climb 250' to reach it. But the route was gradual, and we never had to go to "15th gear," <i>i.e. </i>walking, on our 14-speed bike. That's Mt. Rainier above the front handlebars of our tandem. It's 62 miles (100 km) away 'as the crow flies,' so it's a little hard from here to appreciate its height of 14,400 feet (4,392 m). The Space Needle is on the far left and downtown seemingly next to it, although they're actually over a mile apart. In case you're wondering, the Needle is 608' tall, roughly twice the height of the Statue of Liberty, or 2/3 that of the Eiffel Tower. It's <i>not</i> the tallest structure in Seattle, which is the Columbia Tower in downtown. <i>It </i>is almost exactly the height of the Eiffel Tower.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fWy70kw0IY0/X-egmqb44qI/AAAAAAAAYZQ/SzXON0MVCYYGl0SvWleNvixE-4qMrKDfACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_0460.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fWy70kw0IY0/X-egmqb44qI/AAAAAAAAYZQ/SzXON0MVCYYGl0SvWleNvixE-4qMrKDfACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/IMG_0460.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RwROSEYyH5I/X-a_t3LSyQI/AAAAAAAAYYU/KFjxg-h_VR8GPAuiNlOC5_Gw6K7ILFF3gCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_0445.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RwROSEYyH5I/X-a_t3LSyQI/AAAAAAAAYYU/KFjxg-h_VR8GPAuiNlOC5_Gw6K7ILFF3gCLcBGAsYHQ/w320-h240/IMG_0445.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>We all know how hard it's been to stay apart from family and friends during this pandemic. We figured out one way to do so safely with our tandem friends Steve and Janet by meeting at Jack Block Park, which we both reached with a 25-mile r/t ride, them from the south and us from the north. These photos were from our trial run one week earlier, when we discovered that the park had a number of these small tables, ideal for two and placed a little over 6 feet (2 m) apart from one or two other tables. Our lunch has already become fairly standardized: each of us gets a sandwich we've made that morning, packed in a plastic container, plus a thermos of hot soup (often homemade) and a second thermos of coffee or tea. A cookie or piece of chocolate is also known to have appeared most days.</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--3EeDL95aHk/X-a_sdfcYYI/AAAAAAAAYYQ/T_X3q5ceJNIRFMuxf7s2hAlh4IxuwUW4gCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_0446.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--3EeDL95aHk/X-a_sdfcYYI/AAAAAAAAYYQ/T_X3q5ceJNIRFMuxf7s2hAlh4IxuwUW4gCLcBGAsYHQ/w320-h240/IMG_0446.JPG" width="320" /></a>However on this particular day Jeff has substituted homemade cole slaw and cheese and crackers in place of, as he likes to put it, <i>yet another</i> sandwich. He seems to be enjoying the switch. Lunch is never a rushed affair, as you can see, with both of us well supplied with reading material. Of course good conversation substituted for the reading when our friends joined us the following week. In case you're wondering, this charming spot is in West Seattle, and we're looking north with the Space Needle just left of the low-hanging branch and the dark Columbia Tower to the right of Jeff. Those orange things are therma-rest seat cushions that deflate for compact storage in our bike pannier. They and our colorful plastic place mats brighten up our repast.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pKN_yH-4SBQ/X-a_vCNNvcI/AAAAAAAAYYY/l0VDzwfOBqcTcljCzU4JCSEHd4XyoVNAgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_0444.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pKN_yH-4SBQ/X-a_vCNNvcI/AAAAAAAAYYY/l0VDzwfOBqcTcljCzU4JCSEHd4XyoVNAgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/IMG_0444.JPG" width="640" /></a></div></div><div><div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div></div></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kjzGG9RM13g/X-eijs95XvI/AAAAAAAAYZc/6yDZc_Y6VwwGM7RzzvYgr1z17Ely4Yv9QCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_0422.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="360" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kjzGG9RM13g/X-eijs95XvI/AAAAAAAAYZc/6yDZc_Y6VwwGM7RzzvYgr1z17Ely4Yv9QCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h360/IMG_0422.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZslTzp2KdfM/X-bCOpJEEnI/AAAAAAAAYYo/TjmkIZK34OctW0--3qkleClEi8OZPP2LwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_0451.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="266" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZslTzp2KdfM/X-bCOpJEEnI/AAAAAAAAYYo/TjmkIZK34OctW0--3qkleClEi8OZPP2LwCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h266/IMG_0451.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>The pandemic seemed like no reason to miss out on the annual explosions of color from the cherry trees on the campus of the University of Washington in late March (above), or in the rhododendron and azalea section of the Arboretum in early May (right and below), but it's too far to walk to either from home and back, so we biked and did our walking about in our bike shoes. This year both were as colorful as usual, and the huge crowds of prior years were missing on our weekday visits. We had little difficulty staying 6 feet from others.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QZzDxCHFOMQ/X-bCP3XN3BI/AAAAAAAAYYs/MsYdhDm0V9IzlVXeRGrbyAliY_TU4swJACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_0456.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QZzDxCHFOMQ/X-bCP3XN3BI/AAAAAAAAYYs/MsYdhDm0V9IzlVXeRGrbyAliY_TU4swJACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/IMG_0456.JPG" width="640" /></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mF42KQGN3sI/X-el2osnF5I/AAAAAAAAYZo/fkeOqrVcBBIv7PJccBaUuJxjsIL8YJbuACLcBGAsYHQ/s1138/IMG_0969.PNG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1138" data-original-width="954" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mF42KQGN3sI/X-el2osnF5I/AAAAAAAAYZo/fkeOqrVcBBIv7PJccBaUuJxjsIL8YJbuACLcBGAsYHQ/w269-h320/IMG_0969.PNG" width="269" /></a></div>By late May folks all over were moving into a Brave New World of home offices and Zoom business meetings, some more successful than others. Hopefully yours have not been quite as bad as suggested in the pie chart to the right. While as 70-something retirees we had no jobs to telecommute to, Louise stayed <i>au courant</i> by switching her weekly workouts with her personal trainer to Zoom, saving a "commute" of 2 minutes each way to the gym downstairs in our condo building, and doing her workouts instead from the comfort of our living room. She says it's different but still good, and of course 100% safe from Covid exposure.<br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rfYhHUiJ5Ho/X-emHRABmeI/AAAAAAAAYZw/NnUOkRpEn1QfXsxgmABbdNmDiMpPO04nACLcBGAsYHQ/s3070/IMG_4513.JPG" style="clear: right; display: inline; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2046" data-original-width="3070" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rfYhHUiJ5Ho/X-emHRABmeI/AAAAAAAAYZw/NnUOkRpEn1QfXsxgmABbdNmDiMpPO04nACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/IMG_4513.JPG" width="320" /></a>Jeff also got into Zooming in September when granddaughter Drae started First Grade and her brother Cedro Fifth. Most weekday afternoons Jeff got on Zoom to work with Draelen on learning to read, and on reading wonderful kid books like <i>Holes</i> and <i>Auggie & Me</i> with her brother. It was only 20-30 minutes with each, but it has developed a closeness that had been harder to achieve when their home was a thousand miles away in LA, rather than a few clicks away on the internet.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dwIvSc9XV4g/X-incUOCHGI/AAAAAAAAYbw/aO_Hv5OMI20t-ER0Qu0IL45JV4KLjDlKQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1001/Drae%2BReading%2Bon%2BZoom%2BSept%2B16%2B2020%2B%25232.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="778" data-original-width="1001" height="311" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dwIvSc9XV4g/X-incUOCHGI/AAAAAAAAYbw/aO_Hv5OMI20t-ER0Qu0IL45JV4KLjDlKQCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h311/Drae%2BReading%2Bon%2BZoom%2BSept%2B16%2B2020%2B%25232.png" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And then came the Big Decision to buy that car. Jeff spent hours mounting the roof-top rack himself so he could understand how it attached and (more importantly) how it could be retightened should it loosen at all, and then mounting the Tandem Topper that the bike actually sits in. It's a clever design that allows you to avoid lifting the entire weight (roughly 55 pounds) of the bike at one time. We first remove the front wheel (itself 5 pounds) and Louise stands the bike on its back wheel while Jeff clamps down the front fork with a quick release lever. We then team up to lift the back of the bike up and swivel it toward the front of the car and onto the tray.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-j9H2GdtSz9g/X-epozxtPtI/AAAAAAAAYZ8/bVuqHfE8wUcX9yK_Eysc2iSUWD8ni2HTgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_0478.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-j9H2GdtSz9g/X-epozxtPtI/AAAAAAAAYZ8/bVuqHfE8wUcX9yK_Eysc2iSUWD8ni2HTgCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/IMG_0478.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>The whole process, including using a strap to keep the bike from wobbling side to side as we drive, takes about ten or twelve minutes, but the bike is quite secure.<div><br /></div><div>Getting the car into our carport parking spot with the bike on top is a little dicier. Turns out it has about an eighth of an inch (3 mm) of space to spare from the carport roof cross-beams, but only the ones near the back of the car. It hits if we try to exit forward, and we have been very careful to not discover exactly how much damage that might do to our bike saddles or handlebars.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VTECtOYxDgQ/X-erkOHuk3I/AAAAAAAAYaI/UcamEy6M7vQ1uRN7xkzDsvcPUVLUJCC_QCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_0480%25281%2529.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1652" data-original-width="2048" height="323" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VTECtOYxDgQ/X-erkOHuk3I/AAAAAAAAYaI/UcamEy6M7vQ1uRN7xkzDsvcPUVLUJCC_QCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h323/IMG_0480%25281%2529.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div><div>That done, we could now head off to do rides that start 15-20 miles from home, and get out into something resembling countryside. One of these took us 15 miles to the city of Kent, where we stopped at a motel that is 30+ bike miles from home. We've biked here half a dozen times in the past few years, each time spending a night or two and then biking back home. [The days of 60+ mile bike rides disappeared when we hit 70+] We spent several minutes discussing their enhanced cleaning protocols with the manager, and also learned they were often only half-full. There are two restaurants within steps of the motel that are both selling meals for take-out, so we booked a 3-night stay for later that month. By bringing our own breakfast (muesli, with milk and yogurt purchased at a nearby supermarket and kept in the room refrigerator) and lunch fixings for a picnic lunch 3 of the 4 biking days, we were set. One of the middle days we were met by Steve and Janet at the motel, and our two tandems then biked 20 miles from Kent to the Black Diamond Bakery, a very popular lunch destination for cyclists. We had checked beforehand, and they were able to serve us lunch at outdoor tables well distanced from other diners. Our 4-day, 3-night trip gave us 150 miles (250 km) of biking, our most intense burst of cycling for the year.</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IAni2OH2tKc/X-gB41oxQsI/AAAAAAAAYaU/UU-OAhuGWY05ECDZBG5W-bTE_YwQ0NkyACLcBGAsYHQ/s3498/IMG_4544.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2333" data-original-width="3498" height="266" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IAni2OH2tKc/X-gB41oxQsI/AAAAAAAAYaU/UU-OAhuGWY05ECDZBG5W-bTE_YwQ0NkyACLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h266/IMG_4544.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>Encouraged by the seeming safety of this trip, we booked three nights in Olympia at an Airbnb apartment, where we could do all our own cooking. It was set up for us to have access to the unit with a code number, so we did not even have to meet the owner face-to-face. Olympia has a fantastic network of bike trails running for the most part through dense woods on routes that were formerly timber railroads. To the right is one that featured a warehouse with an appropriate mural on the trail side of the building. Below are two photos, one to illustrate the tunnel of trees we were often biking through, the second to show a stretch of trail parallel to train tracks still in use, but now apparently devoted entirely to storing unused oil tanker cars. The line of identical rail cars stretched for a mile!<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UqoawObG344/X-gCmhEAaSI/AAAAAAAAYas/m4GMu-WRdtAMflyxhrPwS5KJtsrGhlx2QCLcBGAsYHQ/s3519/IMG_4543.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2640" data-original-width="3519" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UqoawObG344/X-gCmhEAaSI/AAAAAAAAYas/m4GMu-WRdtAMflyxhrPwS5KJtsrGhlx2QCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/IMG_4543.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JF3ZpxyuJKQ/X-gB8cu5NlI/AAAAAAAAYac/wehxTSXm86kcafh3IfQohmJffn2WPe3dACLcBGAsYHQ/s3565/IMG_4545.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2376" data-original-width="3565" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JF3ZpxyuJKQ/X-gB8cu5NlI/AAAAAAAAYac/wehxTSXm86kcafh3IfQohmJffn2WPe3dACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h426/IMG_4545.JPG" width="640" /></a></div></div><br /><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-990EWId5OSw/X-gDmr3g-lI/AAAAAAAAYa4/bA9cjH-mJEEEVJEvUY1hfRsDFbyEicctACLcBGAsYHQ/s3648/IMG_4551.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2736" data-original-width="3648" height="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-990EWId5OSw/X-gDmr3g-lI/AAAAAAAAYa4/bA9cjH-mJEEEVJEvUY1hfRsDFbyEicctACLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h300/IMG_4551.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>Of course we still did day trips, including one where we took a ferry across Puget Sound to ride on Bainbridge Island. Here are three photos from the ferry, first showing our bike in its designated bike parking spot, then from the beginning of the return journey, and finally from a point ten minutes from our return docking in Seattle. Cyclists are always the first to load and unload so long as they get in line before the loading begins (if you miss that, you're last on, last off, of course).</div><div><br /></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-y5Y6y-KSYTo/X-gEfbb7bmI/AAAAAAAAYbA/eC8IKLAcYuE1QUhf4oQW3iWFyVJNsaXVQCLcBGAsYHQ/s3583/IMG_4552.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2015" data-original-width="3583" height="360" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-y5Y6y-KSYTo/X-gEfbb7bmI/AAAAAAAAYbA/eC8IKLAcYuE1QUhf4oQW3iWFyVJNsaXVQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h360/IMG_4552.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LxG6ntwlZK8/X-gEgukK0kI/AAAAAAAAYbE/9QQYS1g_ESAVTKzZmTUeMQsl2b_yrHPhwCLcBGAsYHQ/s3648/IMG_4559.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="3648" height="360" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LxG6ntwlZK8/X-gEgukK0kI/AAAAAAAAYbE/9QQYS1g_ESAVTKzZmTUeMQsl2b_yrHPhwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h360/IMG_4559.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-07lAAw9onJU/X-gFT2cg1II/AAAAAAAAYbQ/fs4oCE2YmSMllFwxwVJt6j8bBa5vBQaSgCLcBGAsYHQ/s522/Haircuts.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="411" data-original-width="522" height="315" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-07lAAw9onJU/X-gFT2cg1II/AAAAAAAAYbQ/fs4oCE2YmSMllFwxwVJt6j8bBa5vBQaSgCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h315/Haircuts.png" width="400" /></a></div>June brought one other special moment, one we suspect almost all our readers remember in their own lives, that first haircut after the initial lockdowns eased up a little. In our case it was almost 4 months between cuts, so we did before-and-after photos to celebrate.</div><div><br /></div><div>Jeff's daughter Becky and son-in-law Sean emigrated by travel trailer from Texas to Oregon just before the pandemic, with a six-month self-financed "sabbatical" of hiking and canoeing on a route that mostly avoided places with 4-digit populations. They settled in a community on the fringe of greater Portland OR and both quickly found jobs in their tech fields. They also found a house that had a guest room with its own entrance and bathroom. Sounded safe, as did their Covid-cautious lifestyle and work situations, so we did a three-day visit in July and ate all our meals outdoors and properly spaced. We also did a walk from a walking tour guidebook we gave them, exploring NW Portland. Here's a goofy photo of them peeking through an odd piece of sculpture in front of the Providence Park soccer field, and then a much finer portrait of Becky with their dog Denver.</div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-chPMWkh1E74/X-gIzbtAsZI/AAAAAAAAYbc/KbCttPhcRUkfGXEgJ2HqQnFiGzfb16WywCLcBGAsYHQ/s2403/IMG_4562.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2403" data-original-width="2402" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-chPMWkh1E74/X-gIzbtAsZI/AAAAAAAAYbc/KbCttPhcRUkfGXEgJ2HqQnFiGzfb16WywCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/IMG_4562.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YuLGh84BKPA/X-gI06oUMjI/AAAAAAAAYbg/oqiW_jBzqVEQ8y3MNfDprOx6Mkca3yxAgCLcBGAsYHQ/s3322/IMG_4564.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3322" data-original-width="2492" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YuLGh84BKPA/X-gI06oUMjI/AAAAAAAAYbg/oqiW_jBzqVEQ8y3MNfDprOx6Mkca3yxAgCLcBGAsYHQ/w480-h640/IMG_4564.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4O0zMLEyu3Q/X-iuKRMCdLI/AAAAAAAAYcs/---owk2iBj0oDN-m8axwOYidBFNaxLUcACLcBGAsYHQ/s3433/IMG_4570.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3433" data-original-width="2575" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4O0zMLEyu3Q/X-iuKRMCdLI/AAAAAAAAYcs/---owk2iBj0oDN-m8axwOYidBFNaxLUcACLcBGAsYHQ/w300-h400/IMG_4570.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>It's not all that long a drive from Seattle to Portland, 3 to 4 hours depending on traffic, but we broke it up each way with 5-mile hikes. The more interesting one was in Whipple Creek Regional Park, where Jeff could get in some actual tree-hugging and both of us could drink in the splendor of a lush Pacific Northwest forest.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JRQzxkOcTAQ/X-iuUFx8GiI/AAAAAAAAYcw/viUOLHVsxaYeZvBLZA9-BCz3NNFzOk35wCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_0518.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1396" data-original-width="2048" height="436" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JRQzxkOcTAQ/X-iuUFx8GiI/AAAAAAAAYcw/viUOLHVsxaYeZvBLZA9-BCz3NNFzOk35wCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h436/IMG_0518.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div>We did one more long trip for cycling, a 5-day 4-night sojourn at an Airbnb in Anacortes, an 80-mile drive north of Seattle. Our lodging was a small house in town, and supplies from home and a supermarket in town provided all of our food for the stay. On both the north-bound and south-bound days we cycled on the Centennial Trail, created from a Northern Pacific RR line that ran from Seattle to Canada. The first two photos are of railroad trestles on the railtrail that have transformed into cycling bridges over two of the rivers flowing from the Cascade Mts. to Puget Sound.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Kqq6ZRpXhfM/X-i0HoL2ADI/AAAAAAAAYdA/GGEexxb_gtIrfSDudNHWIO30ZInpkez_gCLcBGAsYHQ/s3565/IMG_4599.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2675" data-original-width="3565" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Kqq6ZRpXhfM/X-i0HoL2ADI/AAAAAAAAYdA/GGEexxb_gtIrfSDudNHWIO30ZInpkez_gCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/IMG_4599.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VxRogpuRYYU/X-i0JuOzyrI/AAAAAAAAYdE/EVm7MmwJnXk7Stm35Hgi5OfNj6aictk3gCLcBGAsYHQ/s3507/IMG_4601.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2339" data-original-width="3507" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VxRogpuRYYU/X-i0JuOzyrI/AAAAAAAAYdE/EVm7MmwJnXk7Stm35Hgi5OfNj6aictk3gCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h426/IMG_4601.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div>The trail currently ends at the Nakashima Farm on the county line between Snohomish and Skagit Counties. The Nakashima family worked the land from 1908 until 1942, when Executive Order 9066 shortly after Pearl Harbor forced all people of Japanese descent in the western states out of their homes and farms and into internment camps. The Nakashimas never came back. Here are some photos from the site, first a snapshot from their family album showing the farm in the 1930's, then one of the whole family shortly before their forced departure. The third photo is of the barn and valley today, and the last one a shot of George Nakashima, one of the small children in the second photo, when he returned in 2013, 103 years after his parents built that large barn.</div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xVoUjU5nlTU/X-i3ct8wPCI/AAAAAAAAYdU/78dYfGZvIc4eLrWPon2yGJfSNz8THVIEACLcBGAsYHQ/s2035/IMG_4654.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="920" data-original-width="2035" height="290" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xVoUjU5nlTU/X-i3ct8wPCI/AAAAAAAAYdU/78dYfGZvIc4eLrWPon2yGJfSNz8THVIEACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h290/IMG_4654.JPG" width="640" /></a></div> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DsK6nqAdQ5M/X-i3k0bgxbI/AAAAAAAAYdY/rou4A5HN4k0EqGGAy8CEM5D0JuCTGslmACLcBGAsYHQ/s3484/IMG_4647.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1956" data-original-width="3484" height="360" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DsK6nqAdQ5M/X-i3k0bgxbI/AAAAAAAAYdY/rou4A5HN4k0EqGGAy8CEM5D0JuCTGslmACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h360/IMG_4647.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FLKxtp05XuI/X-i3s01eAWI/AAAAAAAAYdc/lec_awRMEEwEF3e7k74KHzhKZC-oUBKQQCLcBGAsYHQ/s3635/IMG_4651.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2607" data-original-width="3635" height="460" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FLKxtp05XuI/X-i3s01eAWI/AAAAAAAAYdc/lec_awRMEEwEF3e7k74KHzhKZC-oUBKQQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h460/IMG_4651.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pQc91IhWMU8/X-i35MgbWVI/AAAAAAAAYdk/dM1ABuIbJ_8W1tPkK4e_IfdjwjROyid0gCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_4653.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1368" data-original-width="2048" height="429" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pQc91IhWMU8/X-i35MgbWVI/AAAAAAAAYdk/dM1ABuIbJ_8W1tPkK4e_IfdjwjROyid0gCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h429/IMG_4653.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div>On two of the middle days we rode across Fidalgo Bay on the impressive trestle of the Tommy Thompson Trail, once again a railtrail built from a line that once served Anacortes. Both rides explored different parts of the Skagit Flats, an area about 8 miles by 8 miles that is pretty much pancake-flat, created by outwash from the powerful Skagit River that currently makes its way to Puget Sound across the southern part of the Flats. As befits its topographical resemblance to the Netherlands, the area is the largest tulip bulb growing region in the U.S., when enormous fields each April turn to slabs of red or blue or purple. In normal times this draws huge crowds, especially on the weekends, but this year saw only farm workers tending the fields as the festival was unsurprisingly cancelled.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yDR0o4z2o9E/X_C3bPV1oDI/AAAAAAAAYtY/m17cTFMh2wsooQE1hi5u6ekWi4_doB1kwCLcBGAsYHQ/s3648/IMG_4604.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="3648" height="360" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yDR0o4z2o9E/X_C3bPV1oDI/AAAAAAAAYtY/m17cTFMh2wsooQE1hi5u6ekWi4_doB1kwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h360/IMG_4604.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PXNNntxCuPU/X-jHpTb2WiI/AAAAAAAAYd0/vm5KfUujUFwZzdNmCrWX_aJ6lyo8GDGIACLcBGAsYHQ/s3648/IMG_4641.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2432" data-original-width="3648" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PXNNntxCuPU/X-jHpTb2WiI/AAAAAAAAYd0/vm5KfUujUFwZzdNmCrWX_aJ6lyo8GDGIACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h426/IMG_4641.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div>One picnic lunch was in a small park of no particular photographic interest, but the other was on the water in downtown La Conner, a scenic town on the Swinomish Channel, a tidal estuary. Across the water is the Swinomish Tribal Reservation. Those things on the far shore are picnic shelter roofs designed to look like traditional Swinomish tribal hats woven from strands of cedar bark.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uNUFrGhOGQo/X-jH9H73lTI/AAAAAAAAYd8/0t0nu0edP2ctT5Y3YyD0e5ISYN6gJiVpwCLcBGAsYHQ/s3648/IMG_4643.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2736" data-original-width="3648" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uNUFrGhOGQo/X-jH9H73lTI/AAAAAAAAYd8/0t0nu0edP2ctT5Y3YyD0e5ISYN6gJiVpwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/IMG_4643.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div>The biggest adventure of the trip was the day we biked 8 miles to the ferry, crossed to San Juan Island, and then rode across the island to the quaint place called Roche Harbor -- and then back to our Airbnb. We'll start with a view of Mt. Baker (10,781' (3,286 m) tall) from the Anacortes ferry slip. The mountain is about 42 miles (67 km) away at this point. The next photo is of one of the many small islands we passed; then the ferry slip at Shaw Island where we dropped off a few passengers and cars and picked up a few more, with a ferry similar to ours in the distance; then the Olympic Mountains in the distance across a small peninsula jutting out from Shaw Island. The last photo in this group is of the inside of our ferry, showing how they've ensured that passengers keep some distance from each other, along with signs stating that each seating area is for one person or family group only.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0D7Z3DOGVOI/X-jLv2otKtI/AAAAAAAAYeI/lfFB3Tnn9ngsGUaIBmHCUymIXrPA4nlOwCLcBGAsYHQ/s3648/IMG_4606.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2736" data-original-width="3648" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0D7Z3DOGVOI/X-jLv2otKtI/AAAAAAAAYeI/lfFB3Tnn9ngsGUaIBmHCUymIXrPA4nlOwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/IMG_4606.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iIqFp4eJk9U/X-jLybHYW_I/AAAAAAAAYeM/2oRZP3zz2U4yGYRIzQoP6DT9U5iYjI0JwCLcBGAsYHQ/s3564/IMG_4613.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="3564" height="360" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iIqFp4eJk9U/X-jLybHYW_I/AAAAAAAAYeM/2oRZP3zz2U4yGYRIzQoP6DT9U5iYjI0JwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h360/IMG_4613.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BUW1hNEidi4/X-jL8gyRBaI/AAAAAAAAYeQ/cFXux-fHlns_Yq4tGTv_efTJbTWpc3piACLcBGAsYHQ/s3607/IMG_4618.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2405" data-original-width="3607" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BUW1hNEidi4/X-jL8gyRBaI/AAAAAAAAYeQ/cFXux-fHlns_Yq4tGTv_efTJbTWpc3piACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h426/IMG_4618.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QE6RLoTvNGc/X-jL_60Q-nI/AAAAAAAAYeU/YNe5EkQ3_z8Jcc2rE76fLU42Gel9gLEawCLcBGAsYHQ/s3648/IMG_4625.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2432" data-original-width="3648" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QE6RLoTvNGc/X-jL_60Q-nI/AAAAAAAAYeU/YNe5EkQ3_z8Jcc2rE76fLU42Gel9gLEawCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h426/IMG_4625.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eb2BZT6HGcY/X-jML4FRq4I/AAAAAAAAYec/6TKkWS5tIxc33RhoOxzyK3qlGjQo7b4XgCLcBGAsYHQ/s3645/IMG_4614.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2431" data-original-width="3645" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eb2BZT6HGcY/X-jML4FRq4I/AAAAAAAAYec/6TKkWS5tIxc33RhoOxzyK3qlGjQo7b4XgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h426/IMG_4614.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div>Here are two shots from San Juan Island, first showing the road we took, shoulderless but also with very few cars to bother us, and then lunch at the outdoor cafe at the Roche Harbor Resort. What you do <i>not</i> see is the profusion of hills both on the mainland between the Airbnb and the ferry and on the island itself. Our 40-mile (64 km) ride involved 1,100 feet (335 m) of climbing, our hardest ride of the year. Quite a change from 30 years ago, when Jeff was doing the RAMROD cycle ride around Mt. Rainier in one day, meaning 10,000 feet of climbing on a 154-mile course, and Louise was cycling across the U.S. with dozens of 100+ mile days and thousands of feet of climbing every day through the Cascades, Rockies and Appalachians. But, hey, we're in our 70s and still cycling, so thank heaven for little things.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3Vl3bCjCJB4/X-jPy4UkHmI/AAAAAAAAYew/YAuv6qMcL7sirpOY6VGSadcL4LOdTz1DgCLcBGAsYHQ/s3648/IMG_4629.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="3648" height="360" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3Vl3bCjCJB4/X-jPy4UkHmI/AAAAAAAAYew/YAuv6qMcL7sirpOY6VGSadcL4LOdTz1DgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h360/IMG_4629.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-srBWxV_3WuQ/X-jP0l5jOgI/AAAAAAAAYe0/Fxnx7qO10pATPlug44gvaeS_FpZQzdjJwCLcBGAsYHQ/s3648/IMG_4630.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2432" data-original-width="3648" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-srBWxV_3WuQ/X-jP0l5jOgI/AAAAAAAAYe0/Fxnx7qO10pATPlug44gvaeS_FpZQzdjJwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h426/IMG_4630.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Gkh4Fd5fjow/X-jacfw0RwI/AAAAAAAAYfc/JKMp70jXsIMmieSfldEo0mWDJK7xfOO9gCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_4763.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="150" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Gkh4Fd5fjow/X-jacfw0RwI/AAAAAAAAYfc/JKMp70jXsIMmieSfldEo0mWDJK7xfOO9gCLcBGAsYHQ/w200-h150/IMG_4763.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>So, what about that canoe we mentioned ages ago? Lucky for us, our condo has kayak, canoe and SUP storage <i>and</i> we have a launch spot only 200 yards/meters away, at a small beach reached by a public access path squeezed between two businesses. Craigslist once again helped us locate a useful item, a set of wheels that quickly strap onto the canoe and allow us to wheel it with minimal effort, even when it's fully loaded with gear. Here is Louise with the canoe 2 hours before low tide, with our condo behind her, and then at the end of that day's trip when we truly were at low tide and the canoe is up on its wheels. The third photo is from the elevator lobby of our condo looking down at our launch spot at high tide. There is still a sliver of beach out of sight to the left, but the spot next to the nearly-disappeared pilings where our canoe had been is now under 12 feet (3.7 m) of Puget Sound saltwater. One learns quickly to pay attention to tide tables around here.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tk4D9XuHXw0/X-jShpC5KLI/AAAAAAAAYfA/LqC84TIzrMw5RpzA6e0u8OI0dSJSD5nKgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_4659.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1368" data-original-width="2048" height="428" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tk4D9XuHXw0/X-jShpC5KLI/AAAAAAAAYfA/LqC84TIzrMw5RpzA6e0u8OI0dSJSD5nKgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h428/IMG_4659.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SBwhL0puP08/X-jSlxzQa0I/AAAAAAAAYfE/MI-1aYpAhNgsfwqyXFZwQH7TVSzHs4HKQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2001/IMG_4669.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1501" data-original-width="2001" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SBwhL0puP08/X-jSlxzQa0I/AAAAAAAAYfE/MI-1aYpAhNgsfwqyXFZwQH7TVSzHs4HKQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/IMG_4669.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-S20StbWXH4w/X-jSqYdUlWI/AAAAAAAAYfI/JpRESIQWZhk8XpcuUJOftMQ-y0XniKHTACLcBGAsYHQ/s3648/IMG_4685.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="3648" height="360" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-S20StbWXH4w/X-jSqYdUlWI/AAAAAAAAYfI/JpRESIQWZhk8XpcuUJOftMQ-y0XniKHTACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h360/IMG_4685.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HyPtNROkX8k/X-jbC_iVC5I/AAAAAAAAYfk/Bcwrvq97NZMlBffwmdcgM3i3b3oS6jUhwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/20200323_115755.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1365" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HyPtNROkX8k/X-jbC_iVC5I/AAAAAAAAYfk/Bcwrvq97NZMlBffwmdcgM3i3b3oS6jUhwCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/20200323_115755.jpg" /></a></div>What could we do from here? Well, going back to that photo looking down at the Shilshole Marina, we could paddle from the launch site just behind our condo to West Point, the peninsula sticking out into the Sound, about a mile each way, or take a right turn past our condo and paddle around the marina itself. This was particularly good for days when there was a bit of wind, as the marina sits behind a breakwater and paddling up and down the rows of boats is entertaining, not only to admire the wide variety of watercraft but also to chuckle at some of the creative boat names. Half-way down the breakwater is a sea serpent and a Viking warrior poised to deal with it, a nod to the strong Norwegian heritage of Ballard. Floating past our condo we could see the painters doing the once-per-decade repainting of our buildings, going from the now out of fashion earth tones it's had to a new regime of shades of grey. The last photo shows the painters up close when they reached our floor. Not a job for acrophobics.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bxhAlcPH_ek/X-jba9RqvWI/AAAAAAAAYfs/tKiAFhxy-soN31HeoZVb7mWsHNbHaQztACLcBGAsYHQ/s1883/IMG_4661.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1255" data-original-width="1883" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bxhAlcPH_ek/X-jba9RqvWI/AAAAAAAAYfs/tKiAFhxy-soN31HeoZVb7mWsHNbHaQztACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h426/IMG_4661.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Q1BSBEnej8A/X-jbf8654DI/AAAAAAAAYf0/9N87TUyUauY5vyFQmdrc-dMZ_y1XE96XwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_4666.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Q1BSBEnej8A/X-jbf8654DI/AAAAAAAAYf0/9N87TUyUauY5vyFQmdrc-dMZ_y1XE96XwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/IMG_4666.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WsXKfhTZXDc/X-jbmw-R4kI/AAAAAAAAYf4/u68DC_B9jqgsat7ktNfNcv7luPQDwvXTQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1995/IMG_4668.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1495" data-original-width="1995" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WsXKfhTZXDc/X-jbmw-R4kI/AAAAAAAAYf4/u68DC_B9jqgsat7ktNfNcv7luPQDwvXTQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/IMG_4668.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ehmcoL0M-P8/X-jbr4OtX4I/AAAAAAAAYgA/9WHkubE8t4UOp3WfFf4YRT-x5ZCPG6ZxgCLcBGAsYHQ/s3384/IMG_4673.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3384" data-original-width="2538" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ehmcoL0M-P8/X-jbr4OtX4I/AAAAAAAAYgA/9WHkubE8t4UOp3WfFf4YRT-x5ZCPG6ZxgCLcBGAsYHQ/w480-h640/IMG_4673.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-l2C7tQ2MM68/X-vx5GGSH0I/AAAAAAAAYmU/JxOU-CS_5cAvNbwBGqIFwsKiRGiLkTxwQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2841/IMG_4485.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1138" data-original-width="2841" height="160" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-l2C7tQ2MM68/X-vx5GGSH0I/AAAAAAAAYmU/JxOU-CS_5cAvNbwBGqIFwsKiRGiLkTxwQCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h160/IMG_4485.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>Paddling around, we've had harbor seals poke their noses up and look us over, wondering what sort of sea animal we are. But they don't stay long, and attempts to photograph them usually leave us with pictures of ripples of water originating from where a seal <i>once</i> was. Our other local marine mammal, at least close to shore (orcas stay out in deep water and rarely come into this part of Puget Sound) is the sea lion. We have yet to see one from our canoe, and are not anxious to do so, at least close up -- males often weigh in at 800 pounds -- but we do see them occasionally from our condo. Here are two sightings, the one to the left showing three of them having a lazy afternoon float 100 yards/meters from us, with only their flippers and snouts above water, the other of one of the big boys resting more securely on the navigational buoy 150 yards/meters off our starboard bow, so to speak. His pal (or mate?) seems to want a chance too, but at his size, there's only room for one, and that only barely.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Gx2Fp_mWbZ8/X-vyyH6RwLI/AAAAAAAAYmc/xYJTnItf1kIJVvI1hIRmmOjNf2QiAy-GQCLcBGAsYHQ/s3155/IMG_2636.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2046" data-original-width="3155" height="416" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Gx2Fp_mWbZ8/X-vyyH6RwLI/AAAAAAAAYmc/xYJTnItf1kIJVvI1hIRmmOjNf2QiAy-GQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h416/IMG_2636.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jLk8LZrsa48/X-klSR9n7DI/AAAAAAAAYgQ/y6gzKZfaG-0I4kY0So5ibXD5zezNV87SQCLcBGAsYHQ/s3389/IMG_4701.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3389" data-original-width="2385" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jLk8LZrsa48/X-klSR9n7DI/AAAAAAAAYgQ/y6gzKZfaG-0I4kY0So5ibXD5zezNV87SQCLcBGAsYHQ/w281-h400/IMG_4701.JPG" width="281" /></a></div><div>If one takes a left turn from that launch spot, the Ballard Locks are just under a mile away. Along the way we passed a boat lifted well up to be sure it won't float away when the tide rises. Not quite sure how they get the boat in the water when it's low tide. In the second photo we're waiting for our turn to enter the small lock. The large lock chamber is at the extreme left. We've seen it hold 100 boats on a busy summer day, but it's mainly seeing only commercial boats during the pandemic. In a kayak or canoe you must use the small lock, the entrance to which is just above Louise's paddle. The dam on the right holds back Lake Union and Lake Washington (which were connected 100 years ago). The third shot is waiting for the final ok to enter, floating next to the barnacle-encrusted wall just outside the gates.</div></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Mcc92QstKZk/X-klpKuu1zI/AAAAAAAAYgY/iu7u8lXD1hInj-frbScUIkEuFo4R3EGLwCLcBGAsYHQ/s3523/IMG_4703.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2641" data-original-width="3523" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Mcc92QstKZk/X-klpKuu1zI/AAAAAAAAYgY/iu7u8lXD1hInj-frbScUIkEuFo4R3EGLwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/IMG_4703.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2z3fzXeTDRE/X-klqo38RDI/AAAAAAAAYgc/CZvER43TxmQGwXUXXc80WlB4blAiJxMsgCLcBGAsYHQ/s3565/IMG_4705.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2675" data-original-width="3565" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2z3fzXeTDRE/X-klqo38RDI/AAAAAAAAYgc/CZvER43TxmQGwXUXXc80WlB4blAiJxMsgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/IMG_4705.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div>Once in the locks, Louise has thrown our line around the floating wall to our left, which will rise with the water. Next, the gates close, and in the third shot a few minutes later we've risen about 18 feet with water that is gravity-fed from above the dam. All that's left is to wait until the other boats have exited before paddling out ourselves.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9XTj5asMG04/X-km99tI0RI/AAAAAAAAYgs/YeeXWVf0x_479C1jf05sfMTtUcyCg_dYgCLcBGAsYHQ/s3565/IMG_4709.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2675" data-original-width="3565" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9XTj5asMG04/X-km99tI0RI/AAAAAAAAYgs/YeeXWVf0x_479C1jf05sfMTtUcyCg_dYgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/IMG_4709.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UMcMW-P4XmI/X-km_efaF7I/AAAAAAAAYgw/1hfajhCvuCkig7_UuKwUdN0OoFrdQ_YkACLcBGAsYHQ/s3552/IMG_4712.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2665" data-original-width="3552" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UMcMW-P4XmI/X-km_efaF7I/AAAAAAAAYgw/1hfajhCvuCkig7_UuKwUdN0OoFrdQ_YkACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/IMG_4712.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-j5A9PKcfZt8/X-knAdrP0yI/AAAAAAAAYg0/d4T3iqiJe4AWmBj4sD-nt0fvJN9uZLRKgCLcBGAsYHQ/s3648/IMG_4714.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2736" data-original-width="3648" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-j5A9PKcfZt8/X-knAdrP0yI/AAAAAAAAYg0/d4T3iqiJe4AWmBj4sD-nt0fvJN9uZLRKgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/IMG_4714.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LgxN6fYsxe4/X-knBo6YTgI/AAAAAAAAYg4/OqvzvFIxTJ0a27Myt9ufXEEANRrdLwLgwCLcBGAsYHQ/s3523/IMG_4716.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2643" data-original-width="3523" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LgxN6fYsxe4/X-knBo6YTgI/AAAAAAAAYg4/OqvzvFIxTJ0a27Myt9ufXEEANRrdLwLgwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/IMG_4716.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div>What next? Well, the map below shows where we've done a lot of our canoeing this year. This is the Ship Canal, created a little over 100 years ago when a ridge was cut through and Lake Washington on the right was connected with Lake Union, shown as "3." "2" is the Locks and "1" our condo. The three spots marked "L" are where we've launched our canoe all but the one time we came through the Locks. For scale, from our most common launch spot, the L nearest home, it's 5 miles to the L on the right. Just left of that is the fairly obvious cutting point, called in fact the Montlake Cut. The middle L however has special importance -- it has a porta-potty. That has actually been a serious challenge this year, since toilet facilities are pretty widely spaced here and elsewhere we've gone canoeing, even more so as waterside parks and businesses have largely closed altogether or closed their restrooms.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sKYNxVq9NyE/X-kxL66PnHI/AAAAAAAAYhM/e2NF0mhTo64LsogKgdaEHGFtJsEzhyn9gCLcBGAsYHQ/s574/Ship%2BCanall%2BAnnotated%2Bon%2BGoogle%2BEarth.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="257" data-original-width="574" height="286" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sKYNxVq9NyE/X-kxL66PnHI/AAAAAAAAYhM/e2NF0mhTo64LsogKgdaEHGFtJsEzhyn9gCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h286/Ship%2BCanall%2BAnnotated%2Bon%2BGoogle%2BEarth.png" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SSVWFSwlxEM/X-k05ohOyTI/AAAAAAAAYhY/4H5xj6a-cVIqT9g0iD7vjrbVhtO8KyZ9wCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_0594.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SSVWFSwlxEM/X-k05ohOyTI/AAAAAAAAYhY/4H5xj6a-cVIqT9g0iD7vjrbVhtO8KyZ9wCLcBGAsYHQ/w320-h240/IMG_0594.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Our canoe weighs 58 lbs (26 kg). Not bad, Jeff once owned a Grumann aluminum boat that was 85 lbs. But it's still a lot of weight. To take it down from the car rack we slide it off the rack and rest one end on the ground, then the two of us hold it near the end in the air, rotate to the side of the car, and gently lower it. Raising it is just the reverse, again using the ground to hold part of the weight as we raise one end. By the way, this is one of Seattle's many street-end boat launches, where trailered motorboats can be rolled right into the water. We've used them often. Outside Seattle, almost every lake and river we've canoed has similar launches built and maintained by the Washington State Dept. of Fish & Wildlife. The latter require a $30/yr permit, a small price to pay for the boating it opens up for us.</div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oVUMG-0hocU/X-k06USHyjI/AAAAAAAAYhc/Poy5tRd8vNYjXU0jHdzF23fuTi2fYcj_QCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_0592.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oVUMG-0hocU/X-k06USHyjI/AAAAAAAAYhc/Poy5tRd8vNYjXU0jHdzF23fuTi2fYcj_QCLcBGAsYHQ/w320-h240/IMG_0592.JPG" width="320" /></a></div></div><div>What's to see on the Ship Canal and Lake Union? Lots. From the Locks to Lake Union it's mainly industrial. The first photo below shows the drydock for the Foss tugboat company. Nearby there are always a few dozen tugs of all sizes, some even smaller than the small one here. There are also quite a few huge ones, since a lot of goods reach Alaska on barges that start out here in Seattle, pulled by these Big Boys. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-B8ke1Zzm_l0/X-lThoeYIYI/AAAAAAAAYjw/fK9fSexdTV0cJ3KGQIOcTVd8MdWBbJ0MQCLcBGAsYHQ/s3235/IMG_4675.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2427" data-original-width="3235" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-B8ke1Zzm_l0/X-lThoeYIYI/AAAAAAAAYjw/fK9fSexdTV0cJ3KGQIOcTVd8MdWBbJ0MQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/IMG_4675.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rkan7Q9vYo8/X-lSiXxD6_I/AAAAAAAAYjY/iO587juopIwaLB9UXKy7c25YqI6z9kA8gCLcBGAsYHQ/s1972/IMG_4747.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1314" data-original-width="1972" height="266" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rkan7Q9vYo8/X-lSiXxD6_I/AAAAAAAAYjY/iO587juopIwaLB9UXKy7c25YqI6z9kA8gCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h266/IMG_4747.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div>There are also lots of compact marinas stuffed full of cabin cruisers. Though no one has precise statistics, Seattle is widely thought to have the highest per capita boat ownership of any large city in America. Having paddled past many such collections we never knew existed since they're mostly invisible from the land side, we're strong believers in the theory. Want more proof? Here's a 4-story boat parking garage with room for a few hundred. Want to actually put it in the water? They'll have it there in minutes with their forklift on steroids!</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wUJXfKxfxGc/X-lSiqagyRI/AAAAAAAAYjc/wRu0DWJhfDsNtvEK0dbjiLiAU-x1ckcYACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_4748.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wUJXfKxfxGc/X-lSiqagyRI/AAAAAAAAYjc/wRu0DWJhfDsNtvEK0dbjiLiAU-x1ckcYACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/IMG_4748.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ESYB9jgi0r0/X-lSigKwTzI/AAAAAAAAYjg/6f9DavrYduUMVi46oFkwxh5Q1Yw5gYDGQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_4750.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ESYB9jgi0r0/X-lSigKwTzI/AAAAAAAAYjg/6f9DavrYduUMVi46oFkwxh5Q1Yw5gYDGQCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h300/IMG_4750.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>Between #2 and the leftmost L on the map above you can see a large square seemingly cut out of the south side of the Ship Canal. This is Fisherman's Terminal, where almost every commercial boat that fishes off the coast of Alaska comes during down times when fishing is poor or the season is closed. It's also the home for a small-ship cruise company that calls itself the Uncruise Line. Unfortunately, thanks to the pandemic their large fleet has been tied up here all year. The second photo shows four of their boats, with more around the corner of the boat basin. Let's hope 2021 is kinder to them.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jbF5r568wWA/X-k5Uc5FheI/AAAAAAAAYhw/DHFaZ2RITKcn59m5JD7LevA1OoM4bI9mgCLcBGAsYHQ/s3414/IMG_4718.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2276" data-original-width="3414" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jbF5r568wWA/X-k5Uc5FheI/AAAAAAAAYhw/DHFaZ2RITKcn59m5JD7LevA1OoM4bI9mgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h426/IMG_4718.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div>Though some are scattered almost everywhere along the Ship Canal, houseboats begin to predominate in Lake Union. Here are a few with the skyscrapers of downtown not far away. Many are bedecked with flowers and foliage in pots along the decks, but the owners of the houseboat in the fourth photo have gone so far overboard, so to speak, that you can only see a few small fragments of their home through the leaves.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hteztxH3Cys/X-k6aedLTUI/AAAAAAAAYh8/kT4GJvNenEMSD_lt1XdCeQ8YHMnPGJflgCLcBGAsYHQ/s3460/IMG_4680.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1946" data-original-width="3460" height="360" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hteztxH3Cys/X-k6aedLTUI/AAAAAAAAYh8/kT4GJvNenEMSD_lt1XdCeQ8YHMnPGJflgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h360/IMG_4680.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TcwJ_qOZ77o/X-k6eIMCtpI/AAAAAAAAYiA/vkqoG77feOkziVxAu3WXX3t6VtQYnka-gCLcBGAsYHQ/s3347/IMG_4681.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2231" data-original-width="3347" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TcwJ_qOZ77o/X-k6eIMCtpI/AAAAAAAAYiA/vkqoG77feOkziVxAu3WXX3t6VtQYnka-gCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h426/IMG_4681.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IiVlSMSGX78/X-lPznF0LaI/AAAAAAAAYio/3aAr8foTUYonuSALD1GKIO6rSGcnCqg7wCLcBGAsYHQ/s2028/IMG_4741.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1141" data-original-width="2028" height="360" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IiVlSMSGX78/X-lPznF0LaI/AAAAAAAAYio/3aAr8foTUYonuSALD1GKIO6rSGcnCqg7wCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h360/IMG_4741.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zAYJDazG_gU/X-k6eF8r4jI/AAAAAAAAYiE/3Uw96UpnHmIdLZsqPfk-Ch2mgu4vPpB2wCLcBGAsYHQ/s3648/IMG_4682.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2432" data-original-width="3648" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zAYJDazG_gU/X-k6eF8r4jI/AAAAAAAAYiE/3Uw96UpnHmIdLZsqPfk-Ch2mgu4vPpB2wCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h426/IMG_4682.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div><br /></div>Seattle is widely known for its houseboats, with good reason. They are quirky and quaint. They have been here a long, long time, as the photo below, taken about 100 years ago, attests. But they obtained enduring fame when Tom Hanks lived on one in the movie <i>Sleepless in Seattle.</i> No tour of Lake Union would be complete without a photo of what is unquestionably now the most famous houseboat in the world.<div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Lx76kocS79o/X-k9u1nOxdI/AAAAAAAAYiY/h0kGnoIw5ikSr4f2D17C6KpRuFuPDseeACLcBGAsYHQ/image.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="632" data-original-width="1024" height="396" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Lx76kocS79o/X-k9u1nOxdI/AAAAAAAAYiY/h0kGnoIw5ikSr4f2D17C6KpRuFuPDseeACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h396/image.png" width="640" /></a></div><div><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GPUXP-InJmE/X-lQHRzFYVI/AAAAAAAAYi0/uku-q583n1A8CQ679KKmThDTLADTQPCxgCLcBGAsYHQ/s3248/IMG_4816.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2165" data-original-width="3248" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GPUXP-InJmE/X-lQHRzFYVI/AAAAAAAAYi0/uku-q583n1A8CQ679KKmThDTLADTQPCxgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h426/IMG_4816.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-069jA3GzO_g/X-lRdflQs3I/AAAAAAAAYjM/W6kNpMNHuEUiHN-65XO5getPOPOHI5C3ACLcBGAsYHQ/s3555/IMG_4819.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2371" data-original-width="3555" height="266" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-069jA3GzO_g/X-lRdflQs3I/AAAAAAAAYjM/W6kNpMNHuEUiHN-65XO5getPOPOHI5C3ACLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h266/IMG_4819.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>Before you get a realtor on the line to find your own houseboat, consider this -- we once went to an open house on one and discovered that they move constantly, continually, relentlessly. Walk across a room? The whole room will rock. Something larger than a rowboat goes by, even a few blocks' distance away? The upstairs will be rocking and rolling. What to do? Here's a motionless home with views of a dozen houseboats and parking for your speedboat in the watery garage downstairs. Price? You don't want to ask.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Just east of the Montlake Cut on the Ship Canal, the Washington Park Arboretum comes down to the water. We made the mistake of going on a weekend and it was a bit crowded. In canoeing it's usually hard to get within 6' of others, but we had to do so here, unfortunately. And did we mention, it's a bit overgrown with water lilies by mid-summer? Nature provided other enjoyment, such as this lone turtle sunning himself, 2 dozen of his buddies having a sort of turtle group hug nearby, and long-abandoned pilings now providing nourishment for new growth.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cCdZTw0MgWQ/X-lbI8T1IEI/AAAAAAAAYj8/twDB45_AXvQ3fwnFdsHnJVAB3Mvq-7rTwCLcBGAsYHQ/s3648/IMG_4686.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2736" data-original-width="3648" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cCdZTw0MgWQ/X-lbI8T1IEI/AAAAAAAAYj8/twDB45_AXvQ3fwnFdsHnJVAB3Mvq-7rTwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/IMG_4686.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xuOjiklk3xA/X-lbMA83VyI/AAAAAAAAYkA/9ox46k-DYjcZbuK1pTDHiczTMnmnuOEgACLcBGAsYHQ/s3645/IMG_4688.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2431" data-original-width="3645" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xuOjiklk3xA/X-lbMA83VyI/AAAAAAAAYkA/9ox46k-DYjcZbuK1pTDHiczTMnmnuOEgACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h426/IMG_4688.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lLaibEwKl6Q/X-lbQMh0aHI/AAAAAAAAYkE/Z7ECDcEdh2M5_eu7wrb0FGdgz4HxXY-7gCLcBGAsYHQ/s3363/IMG_4691.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2522" data-original-width="3363" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lLaibEwKl6Q/X-lbQMh0aHI/AAAAAAAAYkE/Z7ECDcEdh2M5_eu7wrb0FGdgz4HxXY-7gCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/IMG_4691.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-51SArFA5E1E/X-uLGjExPYI/AAAAAAAAYk4/YgDl1UqDxPYRu_ciz4v91WQe9whqa27SACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_1823.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1202" data-original-width="2048" height="376" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-51SArFA5E1E/X-uLGjExPYI/AAAAAAAAYk4/YgDl1UqDxPYRu_ciz4v91WQe9whqa27SACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h376/IMG_1823.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QzWbY2SGHLw/X-lbTGmNVlI/AAAAAAAAYkI/BwcJe8ektyo9CRbHL3Yt7QUwIM1wursVgCLcBGAsYHQ/s3648/IMG_4690.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2736" data-original-width="3648" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QzWbY2SGHLw/X-lbTGmNVlI/AAAAAAAAYkI/BwcJe8ektyo9CRbHL3Yt7QUwIM1wursVgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/IMG_4690.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xEZJXbXp3Aw/X-uN4ZLM7SI/AAAAAAAAYlI/xB7AdA7lLyArSQyN_9PErOGtpglD3n4nwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1935/IMG_4769.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1290" data-original-width="1935" height="266" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xEZJXbXp3Aw/X-uN4ZLM7SI/AAAAAAAAYlI/xB7AdA7lLyArSQyN_9PErOGtpglD3n4nwCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h266/IMG_4769.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>But we didn't just boat locally. Indeed, by the end of the year we had put the boat into 22 lakes, 1 freshwater river and three tidal ones. The most exciting trip of the year was on one of the latter, the Snohomish, which we did with friends Steve and Janet in their kayaks. It's a big river that originates in the Cascades 60+ miles away, but is particularly wide near its mouth on Puget Sound. We picked a day with a fairly high high tide that would occur at an appropriate lunch hour We launched 3 miles from the mouth and headed to a park 5 miles upstream. Even though it was less than 2 hours until high tide, the upstream current was a little over 2 mph (almost 1 m per second) since Puget Sound was going up so fast back down at the mouth. As we got further upstream plus closer to when the tide would turn at high tide, the river's speed went down until it was probably only 1/4 mph, but still upstream.<br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Piers and pilings, relics unused since the days when logs were floated down the river to sawmills nearby, were now coming alive with new life, even new trees, growing out of them. The river is full in late summer and fall with salmon headed upstream to spawn, and we heard them splash around us from time to time. Ospreys and bald eagles were ready to make a closer acquaintance with the fish.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uungw-8lG0M/X-uOXeayU6I/AAAAAAAAYlQ/_sDM0H0umboO0yqyWF7ryi8GeaIoFcsjQCLcBGAsYHQ/s3648/IMG_4779.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2432" data-original-width="3648" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uungw-8lG0M/X-uOXeayU6I/AAAAAAAAYlQ/_sDM0H0umboO0yqyWF7ryi8GeaIoFcsjQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h426/IMG_4779.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ewVJjpeV_9g/X-uOZfGAoaI/AAAAAAAAYlU/GwTNgm0bSSE20PipDp4onYut4JcubQe1ACLcBGAsYHQ/s3648/IMG_4780.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2432" data-original-width="3648" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ewVJjpeV_9g/X-uOZfGAoaI/AAAAAAAAYlU/GwTNgm0bSSE20PipDp4onYut4JcubQe1ACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h426/IMG_4780.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Y-6WosMZ2HI/X-uObnW9UbI/AAAAAAAAYlY/PZbvdmV3S9EH3FRjmg-J605wLFv5WRStgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1912/IMG_4786.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1912" data-original-width="1912" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Y-6WosMZ2HI/X-uObnW9UbI/AAAAAAAAYlY/PZbvdmV3S9EH3FRjmg-J605wLFv5WRStgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/IMG_4786.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5E8L5KdgHgA/X-uOqyxVwnI/AAAAAAAAYlk/0N294TOx6TMIFNLCduPpqk7WsGAA6NCFwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2652/IMG_4913.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2652" data-original-width="1988" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5E8L5KdgHgA/X-uOqyxVwnI/AAAAAAAAYlk/0N294TOx6TMIFNLCduPpqk7WsGAA6NCFwCLcBGAsYHQ/w480-h640/IMG_4913.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We pulled our boats up and had lunch at the park. We took our time, and a little over an hour later relaunched for the float back down the river. Sure enough, the river was flowing slowly downstream, and sure enough the speed increased back to 2+ mph when we reached the spot where our cars were. It was tricky stopping and pulling up the boat with that current, but that was not the most exciting part of our return voyage. It was 30 minutes earlier, when we spotted a group of 3 seals hauled out on the left bank. The larger ones (mom & dad?) were in serious relaxation mode, while the smaller one (the kid?) seemed to be practicing a yoga pose known as <i>the locust</i>. That's one mighty big locust.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FLsuJHH2RDA/X-uT4PrxfeI/AAAAAAAAYl0/86bJI855fPcHE-7I63wrHpDHjP91N7olgCLcBGAsYHQ/s3557/IMG_4796.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2371" data-original-width="3557" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FLsuJHH2RDA/X-uT4PrxfeI/AAAAAAAAYl0/86bJI855fPcHE-7I63wrHpDHjP91N7olgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h426/IMG_4796.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MQwScgS1osw/X-uT787bt4I/AAAAAAAAYl4/juSuo05WxpYkHcpyXDV94zwEOjedtM0PwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2949/IMG_4788.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1966" data-original-width="2949" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MQwScgS1osw/X-uT787bt4I/AAAAAAAAYl4/juSuo05WxpYkHcpyXDV94zwEOjedtM0PwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h426/IMG_4788.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">One other tidewater photo is worth sharing, taken when we were paddling the Duwamish River in Seattle. The coho (<i>aka </i>'silver') salmon were jumping so frequently and so close to us, a few times within 2 canoe lengths of us, that we started to wonder how calm we were capable of remaining if one of these big fish flopped into our boat. Spawning coho run 7 to 11 pounds, but can be up to 3 times that, and when out of water make a toddler tantrum seem like a mild matter. It never did come to that, but we did get to see one out of water on the end of the fishing line of one lucky boater we paddled past.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-awhGixTQNsg/X-uXHoc6e8I/AAAAAAAAYmI/aYzwN1G3Es4FIZstD9bJzw5ZZaw2RqezgCLcBGAsYHQ/s3648/IMG_4820.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2432" data-original-width="3648" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-awhGixTQNsg/X-uXHoc6e8I/AAAAAAAAYmI/aYzwN1G3Es4FIZstD9bJzw5ZZaw2RqezgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h426/IMG_4820.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The one freshwater river was the Sammamish, and the trip was so great we did it twice this year. The put-in was easy and the river current helped us along at about 1 mph. We had locked up Jeff's bike at a park at the take-out spot 12 miles from the put-in, at which point he switched to bike shoes, made <i>absolutely </i>sure he had the car keys, and biked 11 miles back to the car on the Sammamish River Trail that parallels the river but takes a few short cuts at bends in the river. Then bike on roof, drive back to Louise, add canoe to roof, drive home, collapse. Or something like that.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vkKw93bF5kc/X-v3KwJNdGI/AAAAAAAAYmo/aSTMtG88QZIhdk5lP-ysFDio2zHJ_ycWgCLcBGAsYHQ/s3648/IMG_4922.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2736" data-original-width="3648" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vkKw93bF5kc/X-v3KwJNdGI/AAAAAAAAYmo/aSTMtG88QZIhdk5lP-ysFDio2zHJ_ycWgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/IMG_4922.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VorTEvkME3k/X-v3Ms6-H8I/AAAAAAAAYms/ycOOuD0XFsURtC290fG0XyvayxtWsWU9gCLcBGAsYHQ/s3407/IMG_4923.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2555" data-original-width="3407" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VorTEvkME3k/X-v3Ms6-H8I/AAAAAAAAYms/ycOOuD0XFsURtC290fG0XyvayxtWsWU9gCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/IMG_4923.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SE7umYHcFTk/X-wKCn-eFXI/AAAAAAAAYm8/uCPra3bPeaIm4l2da6a-tfjLCCV2DXOBwCLcBGAsYHQ/s3576/IMG_4801.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2682" data-original-width="3576" height="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SE7umYHcFTk/X-wKCn-eFXI/AAAAAAAAYm8/uCPra3bPeaIm4l2da6a-tfjLCCV2DXOBwCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h300/IMG_4801.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>Then there were the lakes. Don't worry, we're not going to go through all 22. They ranged from 100 miles north to 100 miles south of Seattle, and we used a few more Airbnb stays to "bag" a few lakes here and there, particularly at the more distant points, while also keeping Covid-19 as distant as possible. The main criterion for a lake was that it be big enough to make it worth taking down the canoe, which for us was a shoreline of at least 5 miles, though we fudged on a couple. Here are a few photographic highlights:<br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">First, the mountain views. Usually one only looks at the lake and its shoreline, be it nature or homes, but the Pacific Northwest has a lot of <i>very </i>big mountains, and they often pop into view. Our first one is Mt. Pilchuk, just over a mile high, seen from Lake Roesiger, followed by a view of 2-mile-high Mt. Baker from Big Lake. At 14,000' plus, Mt. Rainier gets into lots of views -- here's one from Long Lake to its west, then from Lake Sawyer to its north.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1u6DX_hEntg/X-wRJ2l9vaI/AAAAAAAAYnI/HlZVWp5QXmYQIuuJX2Ue3jV6mBadYDElgCLcBGAsYHQ/s3565/IMG_4807.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2675" data-original-width="3565" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1u6DX_hEntg/X-wRJ2l9vaI/AAAAAAAAYnI/HlZVWp5QXmYQIuuJX2Ue3jV6mBadYDElgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/IMG_4807.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jYjnE2qn6UI/X-wR_MCvPHI/AAAAAAAAYnQ/vHomCCdUbmIMmXjZZIDJBeJCmgU2OkMowCLcBGAsYHQ/s3539/IMG_4868.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2359" data-original-width="3539" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jYjnE2qn6UI/X-wR_MCvPHI/AAAAAAAAYnQ/vHomCCdUbmIMmXjZZIDJBeJCmgU2OkMowCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h426/IMG_4868.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LRkdn7eYa6k/X-wSYIw9JLI/AAAAAAAAYnY/Dgw6hvs3dsw1acJj2c3G4CVxuQccjmdEACLcBGAsYHQ/s3648/IMG_4940.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2736" data-original-width="3648" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LRkdn7eYa6k/X-wSYIw9JLI/AAAAAAAAYnY/Dgw6hvs3dsw1acJj2c3G4CVxuQccjmdEACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/IMG_4940.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-alkmUHquFEo/X-wSlxwuKpI/AAAAAAAAYnc/30qjHImpRTIYusxFDhqgMqmako83Rh2UACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/20201228_144145.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1537" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-alkmUHquFEo/X-wSlxwuKpI/AAAAAAAAYnc/30qjHImpRTIYusxFDhqgMqmako83Rh2UACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/20201228_144145.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Dung5_aJ5QM/X-wUft8G66I/AAAAAAAAYns/pJrVwM6uwCsrY28eSxZFJJux-uSzCrc3gCLcBGAsYHQ/s3099/IMG_4904.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2066" data-original-width="3099" height="266" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Dung5_aJ5QM/X-wUft8G66I/AAAAAAAAYns/pJrVwM6uwCsrY28eSxZFJJux-uSzCrc3gCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h266/IMG_4904.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>All of these lakes, uninhabited 150 years ago but for the occasional camp made by Native Americans, are largely fringed today by homes that range from weekend shacks to gorgeous year-round residences, with the trend moving toward the latter. Most have tamed the shore, but we found a few where evidence of the enormous cedars and firs that once came to the water's edge has been left in place.<br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-I4jwO_6l1uI/X-wUsvhwVzI/AAAAAAAAYnw/aYw-5K-FDFQQRR-7_mwM52rBX5FVJkShACLcBGAsYHQ/s3102/IMG_4905.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2069" data-original-width="3102" height="266" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-I4jwO_6l1uI/X-wUsvhwVzI/AAAAAAAAYnw/aYw-5K-FDFQQRR-7_mwM52rBX5FVJkShACLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h266/IMG_4905.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8LSSA-tGphY/X-wUudNUx7I/AAAAAAAAYn0/LypxyUonpNIaQEh_XlleUTU-b9z-MfoUACLcBGAsYHQ/s3102/IMG_4909.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2069" data-original-width="3102" height="266" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8LSSA-tGphY/X-wUudNUx7I/AAAAAAAAYn0/LypxyUonpNIaQEh_XlleUTU-b9z-MfoUACLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h266/IMG_4909.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">We now interrupt this presentation for the Big Smoke Disaster of 2020. In the second week of September, large fires in Oregon and Washington spewed enormous clouds of smoke, <i>i.e.</i> a dense atmosphere of unhealthy fine particulates just waiting to ravage people's lungs. The winds conspired to bring these all over the Pacific Northwest, and we all became educated about the AQI, the Air Quality Index. In a word, the quality was rotten. For seven days we stayed indoors, venturing out only twice for supermarket runs planned like military operations to get in and get out, quickly. How bad was it? Here are three photos taken from our condo, from bad to worse to better, the latter about day 9.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YJ04xqLaFR4/X-wWa9O8k6I/AAAAAAAAYoI/QzuoXTW2tiIWQDPnMQZjOM8Amho77yu0wCLcBGAsYHQ/s1632/IMG_1024.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1224" data-original-width="1632" height="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YJ04xqLaFR4/X-wWa9O8k6I/AAAAAAAAYoI/QzuoXTW2tiIWQDPnMQZjOM8Amho77yu0wCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h300/IMG_1024.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XphTwFOL6SI/X-wWcZuzzUI/AAAAAAAAYoM/eZQycJqPoIgUVmcJ_MrhuPdCYf8GxKS3wCLcBGAsYHQ/s1632/IMG_1025.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1224" data-original-width="1632" height="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XphTwFOL6SI/X-wWcZuzzUI/AAAAAAAAYoM/eZQycJqPoIgUVmcJ_MrhuPdCYf8GxKS3wCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h300/IMG_1025.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R6cIciXoWo0/X-wWda1otzI/AAAAAAAAYoQ/3RT9saZl-mY5NcbCqbg60L-I9VFNm3xJACLcBGAsYHQ/s1531/IMG_1026.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="862" data-original-width="1531" height="225" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R6cIciXoWo0/X-wWda1otzI/AAAAAAAAYoQ/3RT9saZl-mY5NcbCqbg60L-I9VFNm3xJACLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h225/IMG_1026.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">Needless to say the entire region had a serious case of cabin fever before the smoke cleared. Some smoke came back very modestly a few days later, but mostly in the upper atmosphere where it made things a little gloomy but didn't make Seattle smell like a fireplace and wasn't as dangerous to our health. Thinking we were in the clear (so to speak), we went to Baker Lake, 20 miles from Canada. It's an enormous lake surrounded by a National Forest, and we saw hardly a<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iP21wB27TkY/X-wZeA_-e4I/AAAAAAAAYoo/WQhaXsa2t-QvDsckxNJdMUuVqIGS2UKzwCLcBGAsYHQ/s3648/IMG_4901.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2736" data-original-width="3648" height="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iP21wB27TkY/X-wZeA_-e4I/AAAAAAAAYoo/WQhaXsa2t-QvDsckxNJdMUuVqIGS2UKzwCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h300/IMG_4901.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>soul. Since it's fed by glaciers, the water had that ethereal milky white blue of glacial rivers and lakes. But the normally spectacular views from our canoe of Mt. Baker just ten miles away and 10,000' above us were a little disappointing, though so much better than they must have been just a few days earlier.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nHyFfNLFHMc/X-wZ5YWNVHI/AAAAAAAAYo8/lKFre3I8XLMxknmqasqb5d50ROiH4EyOQCLcBGAsYHQ/s3434/IMG_4902.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2289" data-original-width="3434" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nHyFfNLFHMc/X-wZ5YWNVHI/AAAAAAAAYo8/lKFre3I8XLMxknmqasqb5d50ROiH4EyOQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h426/IMG_4902.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3_J0DIaeUIs/X-wfDIuiYiI/AAAAAAAAYpI/04ZL6gANcWgXO_9Kz5BcCKh7o7hxICcUwCLcBGAsYHQ/s3648/IMG_4895.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2736" data-original-width="3648" height="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3_J0DIaeUIs/X-wfDIuiYiI/AAAAAAAAYpI/04ZL6gANcWgXO_9Kz5BcCKh7o7hxICcUwCLcBGAsYHQ/w320-h240/IMG_4895.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>A strange thing happened as we arrived. So did a taxi. Not a <i>taxi</i> taxi. A <i>fish</i> taxi. Decades ago two dams cut the native sockeye salmon off from access to the lake. A few remained as kokanee, <i>i.e.</i> landlocked salmon, but a major fishery was lost. Then in more recent years the Dept. of Fish & Wildlife, pushed by Native American groups, environmentalists and fishermen, started to do something about it. For the past ten years they have trapped 12,000 to 28,000 sockeye per year and sent about half to hatcheries and half by fish taxi ten miles uphill from the darned dam to Baker Lake. And yes, they collect the smolt in the spring before they go over the dam, and bring them downhill safely. By taxi.<br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3ir3PCX5vDk/X-wfVOnRA9I/AAAAAAAAYpQ/wbbatPTluMUGoC07k0Y39TutTvxe67wVACLcBGAsYHQ/s2386/IMG_4893.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1789" data-original-width="2386" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3ir3PCX5vDk/X-wfVOnRA9I/AAAAAAAAYpQ/wbbatPTluMUGoC07k0Y39TutTvxe67wVACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/IMG_4893.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">All of which is a good segue to a Redtandem Blog first: our first video link. Hope it works. We didn't just canoe the rest of the year, we did continue hiking and biking. On a hike in early November to nearby Carkeek Park we kept a close eye on Pipers Creek, remembering from other visits that it is a salmon stream, even though it and it's one tributary add up to at most a mile of steam that a salmon might be able to navigate. We had never seen salmon in it. But November is the best month to see them. And did we ever! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The video is 64 seconds long and starts with a lot of thrashing about. We're not experts, but we can tell you it's one of two things, and perhaps both. A female salmon does this to create a <i>redd</i>, the term for a place where she decides to build a nest for her eggs. Male salmon need to fertilize the eggs soon after, and sometimes they compete to be The One and Only. Near the end of the clip, you can see one salmon scoot away at high speed. We suspect he's an unsuccessful aspirant. Or not. Perhaps this is all an anthropomorphic sex fantasy. Anyway, here's the link:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/eVHDym_FN2Y" width="320" youtube-src-id="eVHDym_FN2Y"></iframe></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Winter has been a new challenge. It's been hard enough all year doing walks and especially bike rides with no opportunity to pause at a café for a coffee or a lunch. Turn the thermostat down into the 40's and it's harder yet. There have also been closed rest rooms, though Seattle Parks have been pretty good about keeping most open, or setting up porta-potties next to brick and mortar ones they chose to close. But somehow, we've managed. We'll close out today's (actually, this year's) blog with one more bike ride, one more walk and one more canoe trip, all done in December. It's possible, folks.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1V5HLLrmWbU/X-0QZhVBAJI/AAAAAAAAYpc/mRV1YpAKuFo3DXI699qw56JacV-hU0bQgCLcBGAsYHQ/s3339/IMG_4854.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2227" data-original-width="3339" height="266" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1V5HLLrmWbU/X-0QZhVBAJI/AAAAAAAAYpc/mRV1YpAKuFo3DXI699qw56JacV-hU0bQgCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h266/IMG_4854.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>The bike trip was to Rattlesnake Lake, a place we biked to 26 years ago up a steep and winding paved road. We'd not been back until this year, when we rode up there in September (seen to the right) with trusty outdoor companions Steve and Janet. Had a quick picnic up at the lake, then down again. It was already getting nippy then. In December we headed up, just us two on our tandem. It was around 40<span face="sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #202122; font-size: 14px;">° F (4</span><span face="sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #202122; font-size: 14px;">° C) as we left the town of North Bend and headed up the route we used 3 months earlier, the Snoqualmie Valley Trail. It did not exist 26 years ago, when the trail was then merely abandoned railroad tracks of the bankrupt train line known as the Milwaukee Road. Now it is is a wonderful packed limestone trail that climbs gently for 3 miles, then at a steady 2% grade for another 4</span><span face="sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #202122; font-size: 14px;">½</span><span face="sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #202122; font-size: 14px;"> miles. That is a very manageable gradient, one we did largely in 5th gear on our 14-speed tandem.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span face="sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #202122; font-size: 14px;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span face="sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #202122; font-size: 14px;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qG3ymxb_6CA/X-1CDvcJA-I/AAAAAAAAYps/H2YunYzjQd8IDFfquehS05-ZZR12ILWkwCLcBGAsYHQ/s3648/IMG_4974.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2736" data-original-width="3648" height="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qG3ymxb_6CA/X-1CDvcJA-I/AAAAAAAAYps/H2YunYzjQd8IDFfquehS05-ZZR12ILWkwCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h300/IMG_4974.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>It was even nippier. A dusting of snow was on even some of the short mountains nearby, and frost on the ground next to the trail. It was surprisingly busy with bikes and walkers, almost 2 dozen of the former and half a dozen of the latter on our hour-long ride to the lake. The deciduous trees were bereft of leaves, but their intricate skeletons were clad in green moss, for we were now in the foothills of the Cascades where the rainfall increases with every foot of altitude gained.<br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-F4taxaf4zb0/X-1COo6i-QI/AAAAAAAAYpw/qZGWKJDdaosEVifiZyHwhfHZHOWSAsTVwCLcBGAsYHQ/s3558/IMG_4963.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2667" data-original-width="3558" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-F4taxaf4zb0/X-1COo6i-QI/AAAAAAAAYpw/qZGWKJDdaosEVifiZyHwhfHZHOWSAsTVwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/IMG_4963.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KQ9Z2z4xBZY/X-1CczoIEHI/AAAAAAAAYp4/ZTlFCDs43dIMFba5dHkop8AP38HnZLtSQCLcBGAsYHQ/s3165/IMG_4973.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3165" data-original-width="2374" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KQ9Z2z4xBZY/X-1CczoIEHI/AAAAAAAAYp4/ZTlFCDs43dIMFba5dHkop8AP38HnZLtSQCLcBGAsYHQ/w300-h400/IMG_4973.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>Rattlesnake Lake was once tiny. A small town of railroad workers grew up beside it when the Milwaukee Road built a rail yard here, and a junction where trains from Chicago could head west to Seattle or northwest to Everett WA on the route that was now our trail. But then dam workers arrived at this town, Moncton, and constructed a large dam nearby so that Seattle would have enough drinking water. That raised the water table. And <i>that</i> raised the lake. And trouble. A diagram on a sign at the lake and a photo of one of those houses tell the story. The water receded for a short while, long enough to tear down what was left of the town, and only a few foundation stones remain, buried deep under the lake. That's it today in the third photo below. And that picnic lunch? It got eaten, quickly, the two of us clad in additional clothing that we hauled up the hill in our bike panniers just for that purpose. And the restroom was open.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mIS4ihhdgJw/X-1DkRQHOMI/AAAAAAAAYqM/uK_JsPrjczMBd1IgIyjZ9ZSsrWfrn1PhACLcBGAsYHQ/s3368/IMG_4975.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1894" data-original-width="3368" height="360" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mIS4ihhdgJw/X-1DkRQHOMI/AAAAAAAAYqM/uK_JsPrjczMBd1IgIyjZ9ZSsrWfrn1PhACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h360/IMG_4975.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QYZaF2rIRBU/X-1DmYRMPOI/AAAAAAAAYqQ/QugFhBm-4qkxUv-crMZ6bV4wl1Pc_t-sgCLcBGAsYHQ/s3343/IMG_4977.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2229" data-original-width="3343" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QYZaF2rIRBU/X-1DmYRMPOI/AAAAAAAAYqQ/QugFhBm-4qkxUv-crMZ6bV4wl1Pc_t-sgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h426/IMG_4977.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-H94jsdNZliI/X-1DrmM5BhI/AAAAAAAAYqU/uQaxBf8eFxkqTByarFapq1-EW720KOW3wCLcBGAsYHQ/s3648/IMG_4978.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2736" data-original-width="3648" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-H94jsdNZliI/X-1DrmM5BhI/AAAAAAAAYqU/uQaxBf8eFxkqTByarFapq1-EW720KOW3wCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/IMG_4978.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Our last big hike of the year was not far from home, a stroll around a neighborhood called Queen Anne. It's one of the most charming residential parts of Seattle thanks to the many older and well-kept-up homes and to the views that abound, since QA (as it's also called) is one of Seattle's higher hills, topping out at 456 ft. (189 m).</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-s-JCnffhN5Y/X-1GtC8yg9I/AAAAAAAAYqo/qOPAnHwb1OA63H1J2TM11TRrOrJ-otWiQCLcBGAsYHQ/s3491/IMG_4989.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2326" data-original-width="3491" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-s-JCnffhN5Y/X-1GtC8yg9I/AAAAAAAAYqo/qOPAnHwb1OA63H1J2TM11TRrOrJ-otWiQCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/IMG_4989.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Before setting out Jeff texted friends Kal and Amy, who had been posting photos on FaceBook of a snowy owl that had taken up residence near their home on QA. They gave us two blocks to check out and the wise suggestion to just look for a crowd of people. We did, and by following their collective gaze we quickly had the beautiful bird in the crosshairs of our camera.<br /><br /><span face="sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #202122; font-size: 14px;"><br /></span></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-n-OygNyYGok/X-1G4XQAQmI/AAAAAAAAYqs/Z6UnoQZ62YUa4LOzS9IfLrMpdtIrear5gCLcBGAsYHQ/s3370/IMG_4992.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2527" data-original-width="3370" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-n-OygNyYGok/X-1G4XQAQmI/AAAAAAAAYqs/Z6UnoQZ62YUa4LOzS9IfLrMpdtIrear5gCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/IMG_4992.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9CUjV0DkAMs/X-1hilEYoYI/AAAAAAAAYsI/UU1KlNgko1s-KF6A6M4UaTADOWm-Xt3sQCLcBGAsYHQ/s3648/IMG_5000.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2736" data-original-width="3648" height="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9CUjV0DkAMs/X-1hilEYoYI/AAAAAAAAYsI/UU1KlNgko1s-KF6A6M4UaTADOWm-Xt3sQCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h300/IMG_5000.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>Nearby was a Little Library, a local institution that involves boxes like this scattered all over the city. People put books they no longer need on the shelves, and other people pick them up. We've actually found a few children's books that Jeff has read to granddaughter Draelen, and picked up a copy of <i>Churchill & Orwell</i> that he plans to read himself fairly soon.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span face="sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #202122; font-size: 14px;">Next we crossed the hill to its eastern edge and looked down at Lake Union, talking about all the places on the lake we've canoed this year. The park on the peninsula is Gasworks Park, which won a passel of awards in the 1970s when it was created out of an abandoned gasification plant that turned coal to cooking and heating gas. Kids love it for the odd and intricate machinery frozen in place and painted bright colors, terrific for climbing on. In case you're wondering, Tom Hanks's houseboat is roughly behind the last tree on the right, but below a steep bluff there, well out of sight.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span face="sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #202122; font-size: 14px;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GsAERSo3LGM/X-1JCxe2alI/AAAAAAAAYq8/GkPSh51jk8U5lMHseZTuGYWc5GnXP6GyACLcBGAsYHQ/s3604/IMG_5001.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2403" data-original-width="3604" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GsAERSo3LGM/X-1JCxe2alI/AAAAAAAAYq8/GkPSh51jk8U5lMHseZTuGYWc5GnXP6GyACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h426/IMG_5001.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><span face="sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #202122; font-size: 14px;">Round the hill to the southeast facet and there's a great view of the Space Needle and downtown from Bhy Kracke Park, named after Werner Kracke who picked up the unusual nickname because he loved the expression "by cracky." He also donated the land for the park. There's a conifer just left of center. Behind it and to its right and left is "Amazonia," the part of Seattle where roughly 50,000 employees were working for you-know-which-company until the pandemic scattered most of them to their home offices around the region. You do <i>not</i> want to be a restaurant owner in that deserted part of town just now.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span face="sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #202122; font-size: 14px;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Z7it6l946FQ/X-1LoMhlFMI/AAAAAAAAYrI/53Js0sXcFdkjP2NczpZwXX5bq48ek7s6QCLcBGAsYHQ/s3648/IMG_5007.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2432" data-original-width="3648" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Z7it6l946FQ/X-1LoMhlFMI/AAAAAAAAYrI/53Js0sXcFdkjP2NczpZwXX5bq48ek7s6QCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h426/IMG_5007.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Z_BYGhK3VmI/X-1NEmvEzmI/AAAAAAAAYrg/NOoAPPuhapodC5O6ZmNqqlmGUZ0GXAYGQCLcBGAsYHQ/s3472/IMG_5010.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2606" data-original-width="3472" height="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Z_BYGhK3VmI/X-1NEmvEzmI/AAAAAAAAYrg/NOoAPPuhapodC5O6ZmNqqlmGUZ0GXAYGQCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h300/IMG_5010.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>On the way to the next viewpoint one passes a gorgeous older mansion. We've been told it's the home of the Japanese Consul, and the rising sun flag and the chrysanthemum emblem of the Japanese emperor over the main entrance lend credence to that story. A few blocks more and you're at the most famous viewpoint in Seattle, Kerry Park, with yet another stunning view of the Needle and of downtown. About one day in four you can also see Mt. Rainier, but this was not one of them.</div><br /><br /><span face="sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #202122; font-size: 14px;"><br /></span><span face="sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #202122; font-size: 14px;"> </span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-53AHD409LxA/X-1NQSBUK-I/AAAAAAAAYro/X-mcQCCGcf8jwsGTcL9Ajxs963H6-hSuwCLcBGAsYHQ/s3553/IMG_5012.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2665" data-original-width="3553" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-53AHD409LxA/X-1NQSBUK-I/AAAAAAAAYro/X-mcQCCGcf8jwsGTcL9Ajxs963H6-hSuwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/IMG_5012.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">But we're not quite done with views. At the southwest corner of QA is another pocket park with a great view to the west, with the Elliott Bay Marina below and the Olympic Mountains on the horizon 50-60 miles away. Turn 45 degrees to the left and you're looking at the "south sound" portion of Puget Sound, with Alki Point in West Seattle behind the state ferry and Vashon Island behind that.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BvCqh2vfhrk/X-1OWd4SUyI/AAAAAAAAYr4/Owh-PLoRR5Qlku7NdgZKvgWygusL81uVgCLcBGAsYHQ/s3648/IMG_5015.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="3648" height="360" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BvCqh2vfhrk/X-1OWd4SUyI/AAAAAAAAYr4/Owh-PLoRR5Qlku7NdgZKvgWygusL81uVgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h360/IMG_5015.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--CtmsAiF24Q/X-1ObqgXSqI/AAAAAAAAYr8/MojxzERj7hYnIuW2Oen9cQenYPgU3toEACLcBGAsYHQ/s3647/IMG_5016.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2432" data-original-width="3647" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--CtmsAiF24Q/X-1ObqgXSqI/AAAAAAAAYr8/MojxzERj7hYnIuW2Oen9cQenYPgU3toEACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h426/IMG_5016.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Not all neighborhoods in Seattle have so many viewpoints, but many are fun to walk at any time. With extra clothing and warm soup and coffee in our thermoses, we hope to continue strolling through them and even stopping and picnicking in them as we stay active through this challenging time.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We promised one more canoe trip, and it was on a small lake we had paddled once before and loved for its quiet charm. Beaver Lake is not quite 3 miles around and bordered for 2<span style="background-color: white;"><span face="sans-serif" style="color: #202122;"><span style="font-size: 14px;">½ of them by homes, plus a park and a nature preserve. But there are lots and lots of trees all around, adding to the charm, even in the restrained palette of winter. There was still snow from a day or two earlier on north-facing lawns, for we were 500 feet above sea level, and Seattle is a place where in winter it often rains at sea level while it snows on the tops of those 400+ foot high hills.</span></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span face="sans-serif" style="color: #202122;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span face="sans-serif" style="color: #202122;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7Y21LAluVQU/X-1kgflru_I/AAAAAAAAYsU/-XorNL0c4zsFiQCRWizwfE9qikWhLevqACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_0605.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7Y21LAluVQU/X-1kgflru_I/AAAAAAAAYsU/-XorNL0c4zsFiQCRWizwfE9qikWhLevqACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/IMG_0605.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ryvXiUs-1p4/X-1kl01e1YI/AAAAAAAAYsY/9IA8MJva7a0u51eWe68OlFMhHqHn46PcwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/20201224_151908.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="360" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ryvXiUs-1p4/X-1kl01e1YI/AAAAAAAAYsY/9IA8MJva7a0u51eWe68OlFMhHqHn46PcwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h360/20201224_151908.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EHQyBM0u24E/X-1m25Xb01I/AAAAAAAAYso/IPZZvjeWALoHmcT-3kK5xlcKnZ_stJdwQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/20201224_151701.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EHQyBM0u24E/X-1m25Xb01I/AAAAAAAAYso/IPZZvjeWALoHmcT-3kK5xlcKnZ_stJdwQCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h225/20201224_151701.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>But Beaver Lake had a surprise for us. It was the afternoon of Christmas Eve. Homeowners on the lake have had a tradition of building docks with an extra dock-like section that floats, attached by ropes or latches to the dock. This floating section often has outdoor furniture and even fire pits clamped onto it, and on one side sports a board on which one can attach an electric motor. We had seen and commented to each other about these on our earlier trip, but none were ambulatory at that time. Today, however, they were on the march, and while we paddled our canoe about the lake, seven of them gathered for an impromptu Christmas party, properly spaced 6 feet apart, in the middle of the lake. What a way to end the pandemic year's adventures, with a little good cheer and hope!</span></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span face="sans-serif" style="color: #202122;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span face="sans-serif" style="color: #202122;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2jQuSlzGaVY/X-1nZEgawBI/AAAAAAAAYsw/V11eW0DL2XUM8F8yBg1GAMq3a5UXBcVbACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_0621.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2jQuSlzGaVY/X-1nZEgawBI/AAAAAAAAYsw/V11eW0DL2XUM8F8yBg1GAMq3a5UXBcVbACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h426/IMG_0621.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-77Y0-l3e1F4/X-1nbKKj9WI/AAAAAAAAYs0/xt9lZILZtacyjuk_FYjmkQu3CMFsNb-dgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/20201224_152539.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="360" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-77Y0-l3e1F4/X-1nbKKj9WI/AAAAAAAAYs0/xt9lZILZtacyjuk_FYjmkQu3CMFsNb-dgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h360/20201224_152539.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: 14px;">As we write this, about 1% of the U.S. population has gotten its first vaccination shots. As we peer into the future, will we see an end to the Coronavirus pandemic in 2021? And if so, how soon will it get under control? No one knows, but we all have hope.</span></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span face="sans-serif" style="color: #202122;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span face="sans-serif" style="color: #202122;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UaHGkd6g9zc/X-1o69gAjuI/AAAAAAAAYtE/NrzbzD_gPogsbBPu2Ar_Cw0_wITLFYz_gCLcBGAsYHQ/s1211/IMG_0985.PNG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1208" data-original-width="1211" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UaHGkd6g9zc/X-1o69gAjuI/AAAAAAAAYtE/NrzbzD_gPogsbBPu2Ar_Cw0_wITLFYz_gCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/IMG_0985.PNG" width="320" /></a></div>What will it bring for us? Is there any hope for resurrecting our plans for a trip to the Netherlands? How will this strange year have affected the Dutch? In strange ways?</span></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span face="sans-serif" style="color: #202122;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span face="sans-serif" style="color: #202122;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cYNoDxrueM8/X-1pKtaMLdI/AAAAAAAAYtM/5CnaLxM_v-46ANQ2rYsGwWMcYAAHugwngCLcBGAsYHQ/s3648/IMG_4852.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3648" data-original-width="2736" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cYNoDxrueM8/X-1pKtaMLdI/AAAAAAAAYtM/5CnaLxM_v-46ANQ2rYsGwWMcYAAHugwngCLcBGAsYHQ/w300-h400/IMG_4852.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>Or will we be spending another year staying active in our own corner of the world? At least we're now ready with the tools to do so in a fun way.</span></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span face="sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #202122; font-size: 14px;">Thank you for joining us on this tour of the outdoors in Seattle and somewhat beyond, and we hope some of you find inspiration from it to "up your game" as well, but always in a safe and sensible way.</span></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><br /><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /></div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /></div>Jeff & Louise Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08667329438445463926noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4009287700201166763.post-22527810555190035972019-12-20T16:22:00.000-08:002019-12-20T17:36:00.012-08:00Repositioning Home from EuropeThis was our sixth summer cycling in Europe. Twelve trips across the Atlantic. For the third time, we chose to "cross the pond" by ship, specifically on a repositioning cruise, after previously crossing the Pacific three times in similar fashion. These are trips cruise ships make when moving from one area to another one far away. Those first ones we did were particularly long ones -- 29 days and then 65 days -- to and from New Zealand in 2008-09. We then went from Seattle to China in 2011 (22 days) and both ways across the Atlantic in 2013<br />
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Repositioning cruises are often less expensive than cruising generally, and that was certainly the case for us this time. Our spending in Europe for our 89 days there totaled only $181 per day for the two of us. That includes <i>everything</i> except travel to and from the U.S. Had we spent 13 more days in Europe and then flown home, it would have cost us about $4,500, whereas the cruise cost just under $4,000 for everything, including cancellation insurance.<br />
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But the main reasons for coming back on a cruise were to allow us to slowly adjust our brains back to North America's time zones, plus revisit two places we've been to before and two others that we haven't, Dublin and Cobh/Cork. More on that in a bit.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CNN6O9TFu3U/XfxKZ8yjSrI/AAAAAAAAYJM/pMEoS6NDv70F4r5nakZwx3UqIEcRXD7-ACLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_4253.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="899" data-original-width="1600" height="223" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CNN6O9TFu3U/XfxKZ8yjSrI/AAAAAAAAYJM/pMEoS6NDv70F4r5nakZwx3UqIEcRXD7-ACLcBGAsYHQ/s400/IMG_4253.JPG" width="400" /></a>Our vessel was the <i>Regal Princess.</i> Here's a photo giving the main stats for the boat. It will almost certainly be the last <i>Princess</i> ship we take, since both have been quite inferior in our minds to the <i>Holland America</i> ships we've taken on three other voyages.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-u9DTH3AFoBg/XfxKw1D0FnI/AAAAAAAAYJU/QITNg2n7VN8QoOYGAu0V56zbyzbU-RJ8QCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/2019%2Brepositioning%2Bcruise%2BCopenhagen%2Bto%2BNYC.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="431" data-original-width="620" height="276" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-u9DTH3AFoBg/XfxKw1D0FnI/AAAAAAAAYJU/QITNg2n7VN8QoOYGAu0V56zbyzbU-RJ8QCLcBGAsYHQ/s400/2019%2Brepositioning%2Bcruise%2BCopenhagen%2Bto%2BNYC.png" width="400" /></a>But rather than dwell on that, let's take a look at the route and some of the scenic highlights. If you <i>would</i> like to know more about what it's like to be on a ship like this for two to six weeks, take a look at a blog we wrote in 2009 describing life on the <i>Holland America Volendam</i> as we returned from New Zealand, at <a href="https://redtandem.blogspot.com/2009/07/at-sea.html">https://redtandem.blogspot.com/2009/07/at-sea.html</a><br />
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This summer our voyage began in Copenhagen, and as we pulled out from our berth in the somewhat remote cruise ship terminal we passed another cruise ship that had snagged the one berth at the older terminal close to the heart of the city. As you can see, Copenhagen is not a place to visit if you want to see skyscrapers.<br />
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You can see a few more shots taken as we left Denmark in our last blog post. The next morning was our visit to Kristiansand, the southernmost city in Norway. However, a steady rain plus a lack of indoor points of interest in the town left us staring at the city all day from dry vantage points on our ship, unwilling to get soaked for what seemed like no good purpose. That evening we crossed the North Sea, and just before lunch on our second full day we got quite excited when we found ourselves in the Pentland Firth, sliding between the Scottish mainland and the Orkney Islands. We noticed what appeared to be a remote lighthouse on the mainland, then took a closer look with our binoculars and the telephoto lens of our camera. What do all the folks in all those houses on that empty moor <i>do</i> for a living? It's not as if there's fertile farmland to tend to, nor any city or even town nearby to commute to, so far as we could see. Perhaps those large square buildings on the horizon hold the answer?<br />
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The Orkneys to the north were even more forbidding as we combined a brisk walk on the top deck with our sightseeing.<br />
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As we moved down the west coast of Scotland the weather got misty and the land further away, and all we could make out were gray shadows in the distance. The third morning, however, dawned clear as we made our way up the Firth of Clyde toward Glasgow. Our destination was the port of Greenock, 25 miles / 40 km closer to the sea. Commuter trains run frequently from Greenock to Glasgow so this worked out just fine for us.<br />
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We visited Glasgow for a few days last year so the approach to the city was the highlight for us this time. Along the shore to the south were several towns neatly laid out, towns that grew large in the 19th century from fishing, trade and manufacturing. In stark contrast, on the left shore to the north were the Scottish Highlands in the hazy distance and only a few houses disturbing the calm of the moors in the sharper foreground.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JUm5oewz6R8/XfxZ8mc1QtI/AAAAAAAAYK0/Frjw_5Zx9-kjo8QGpffiLhrKnqGMn2wQQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_4149.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1068" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JUm5oewz6R8/XfxZ8mc1QtI/AAAAAAAAYK0/Frjw_5Zx9-kjo8QGpffiLhrKnqGMn2wQQCLcBGAsYHQ/s400/IMG_4149.JPG" width="400" /></a>Having hit all the places we really wanted to see in Glasgow on our last visit, we settled on doing a walk along the River Kelvin and through the city Botanical Gardens. Our problem the next day was the opposite -- we were visiting the great city of Dublin for the first time. What should we see in our few hours there? We tend to be folks who "do" a city much more methodically and in detail, so we decided this time to just walk about, get a general feel for the place, and hopefully come back some day for a visit of a few days. The most photogenic spots we passed were the heart of the campus of illustrious Trinity College, then a few of the more famous bars, and lastly a genial "St. Patrick" who will give you a blessing for a decent tip.<br />
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The Dublin harbor is not exactly dug for the depth of ships today, so our berth was on the edge of town from which we took a shuttle bus into the heart of the city. Our departure was not until 10 pm to allow some sightseeing excursions from the ship to reach distant points, so we were able to get a nice shot of the center of Dublin at sunset, and then turn 180 degrees to the east and see the moon rising over the industrial landscape and seascape.<br />
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The lighthouse at Roches Point greeted us the next morning. On April 1, 1912, the <i>Titanic</i> dropped anchor near it, disembarked 7 lucky souls and took on 123 new passengers, only 44 of whom would leave the ship alive. They had come across the harbor on tenders from the port of Queenstown, as it was known then. Its new name is Cobh, pronounced <i>cove</i>, given there is no more queen since Irish independence.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BPwNyy3vCBI/XfxpOOVZKsI/AAAAAAAAYL8/p-3u8AZDCHMe5y_9tadKAaojdFM_xXSPwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_4191.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BPwNyy3vCBI/XfxpOOVZKsI/AAAAAAAAYL8/p-3u8AZDCHMe5y_9tadKAaojdFM_xXSPwCLcBGAsYHQ/s400/IMG_4191.JPG" width="400" /></a> It took twenty minutes to make our way through the enormous harbor to the eastern edge of the city. We then slowly paraded past an amazing scene of row house after row house after row house, a few here, a half dozen there, an even longer string somewhere further along. Hardly two identical, yet all more or less matching. This has to be one of the prettiest ports in the world.<br />
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Although Cobh is on an island, a commuter train crosses on a series of trestles into Cork, Ireland's second largest city. We found the tourist info center and picked up a walking tour of the city, taking a few photos along the way. Somehow they drifted from interesting buildings to interesting food, including a nasty-looking monkfish at a fishmonger's stall.<br />
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It was a nice walk, enriched by a nice Shepard's Pie lunch in the heart of downtown. When we got back to Cobh we decided we needed to climb the hill next to the ship to see if we could get its portrait. The ship is about the height of a 15-story building. Unlike the ship, the hillside had no elevators so it was a healthy workout. When we finally found a good viewpoint, we discovered that the hill was so steep that we were too close to get the entire ship in one photo!<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AllyaeHyZm0/Xfxv6y-EaqI/AAAAAAAAYNo/bY67U-QuBScJNw5rg_605nx5lkLBn3L2ACLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_4228.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AllyaeHyZm0/Xfxv6y-EaqI/AAAAAAAAYNo/bY67U-QuBScJNw5rg_605nx5lkLBn3L2ACLcBGAsYHQ/s400/IMG_4228.JPG" width="400" /></a>Cobh was one of the main ports of embarkation for the 6 million Irish who emigrated to other countries in the 19th and 20th centuries, the U.S. preeminent among them. One of those who left is represented by statues here and on Ellis Island in New York harbor, America's most famous immigration center. Annie Moore was 18 years old when she traveled with her younger brothers from Cobh and became the very first person to come through Ellis Island when it opened in 1892, gaining her few moments of fame. She soon slipped into obscurity, but an historian recently tracked down what became of her. She married a German immigrant and never made it any further from Ellis Island than the slums of the Lower East Side of New York, where she bore 11 children, 8 of whom died before her. Her unmarked grave was recently identified and a monument erected to mark it. It sits close to that of Jeff's grandmother (who was herself the child of Irish immigrants) in Calvary Cemetery in Queens NY.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-O00n3iJ_1-4/Xfxx0G8V3OI/AAAAAAAAYN0/7LkWf3WogfQnGylWAb84VJWdG7NVHhmvQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_4249.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="898" data-original-width="1600" height="223" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-O00n3iJ_1-4/Xfxx0G8V3OI/AAAAAAAAYN0/7LkWf3WogfQnGylWAb84VJWdG7NVHhmvQCLcBGAsYHQ/s400/IMG_4249.JPG" width="400" /></a>We left again at night, after passengers taking excursions to distant sights such as Blarney Castle made it back to the ship. We passed the last vestiges of land, now eerily outlined by moonlight. No <i>terra firma</i> was to be seen for the next 5 1/2 days. We made a point of walking the decks daily, and our pedometers registered 4 1/2 to 6 1/2 miles each day. We enjoyed one or two concerts each day from the ship's quite competent string trio, twice in the glitzy large theater, twice in the shiny atrium at the center of of the ship, and most often in a lounge that was done up with a sort of British pub decor, lots of leather and quiet comfort.<br />
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We were adequately fed, but it was nothing to get excited about. We truly missed the cuisine we had enjoyed on our <i>Holland America</i> cruises. On the positive side, we did get to do a bit of reading and sudoku puzzle solving and a lot of just<i> </i>relaxing.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-G1yFzmBub6Y/Xfx2wL-mKzI/AAAAAAAAYOM/BgkDEeZgv78LcNNG5ppAmz6Pat7jMd0zwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_4282.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-G1yFzmBub6Y/Xfx2wL-mKzI/AAAAAAAAYOM/BgkDEeZgv78LcNNG5ppAmz6Pat7jMd0zwCLcBGAsYHQ/s640/IMG_4282.JPG" width="480" /></a>We had one more port call, Halifax, Nova Scotia. We visited it by cruise ship on one of our previous repositioning cruises, that time focusing on the historic fort that sits on top of a hill that looks protectively over the city. The goals this time were to explore the harborside and to visit an art museum with a very special exhibit.<br />
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As cruising has continued to grow in popularity, Halifax has seen more and more ships come calling. It has spiffed up the walkway along both sides of the harbor. We had a good walk past a stature honoring the many Canadian soldiers and sailors who shipped out of Halifax to Europe in both World Wars. We also couldn't resist multiple photos of the cutest little tugboat tied up to the wharf.<br />
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A ferry carried us across the harbor to Dartmouth, once a separate city but now a 'locality' within the Halifax Regional Municipality. Crossing the harbor we passed behind a Canadian warship being escorted to Canadian Forces Base Halifax in the inner harbor past that large bridge. This is the main Atlantic base for the Royal Canadian Navy. On the Halifax side of the harbor was a veritable 'navy' of three visiting cruise ships, our own the one in the middle.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7NFfPZx5nXM/Xfx52KjYYjI/AAAAAAAAYO4/9Su9f2UIzrk4AH5cX88Q9LyKBKWcq_Y2gCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_4255.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7NFfPZx5nXM/Xfx52KjYYjI/AAAAAAAAYO4/9Su9f2UIzrk4AH5cX88Q9LyKBKWcq_Y2gCLcBGAsYHQ/s400/IMG_4255.JPG" width="300" /></a>We had a nice hike on the Dartmouth shore ending with a visit to a small shop that <i>Yelp</i> patrons seemed to think was the best place in town to get a lobster roll. We found it, and it did not disappoint. Nearby was a shop selling t-shirts with a relevant message.<br />
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Back on the Halifax side, it was time to track down the Art Gallery of Nova Scotia. It focuses on artists from Nova Scotia, and none is more famous than Maud Lewis since the movie <i>Maudie</i> came out in 2017. We watched it before leaving for Europe last Spring and decided that the Maud Lewis permanent exhibit here was a must-see.<br />
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Maud Lewis was born in 1903 and suffered from rheumatoid arthritis that began in her childhood, yet she learned to overcome it and paint. She started with hand-painted Christmas cards, then started painting on whatever material she had available, such as masonite boards. She married a fish peddlar and then decorated almost every surface of his tiny home with artwork. After she and her husband had both passed away, a fundraising group purchased the shack as a gift to the museum, and there it was, together with pictures of "Maudie. "<br />
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The museum also has several rooms of her paintings on permanent display. She certainly has come a long way from selling paintings for a few dollars each to tourists driving past her home on busy Highway 1. CBC-TV has done three documentaries about her; Hollywood came out with <i>Maudie</i> with Sally Hawkins doing a terrific job in the title role; Canada Post issued a stamp with one of her paintings; and -- the ultimate affirmation for an artist -- her paintings are now selling for $20-45,000 Cdn each.<br />
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The museum also featured works by other Canadian artists. Some of the outstanding ones were this Norman Rockwell-ish <i>Old Time Sugaring Party</i>, painted in 1945 by Adam Sherriff Scott; two 1975 works by William Kurelek entitled <i>An Eskimo Dice Game</i> and <i>Sky Tossing at Alaskan Whaling Celebration</i>; and the ethereal <i>Island in the Ice</i> painted by Tom Forrestall in 1987.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GyKSm1Ua7xQ/Xf1h4Nj4CDI/AAAAAAAAYQ0/JAmwp1IQ1B8qmpiVhO1Mw3iYY6PlxfeTQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_4285.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GyKSm1Ua7xQ/Xf1h4Nj4CDI/AAAAAAAAYQ0/JAmwp1IQ1B8qmpiVhO1Mw3iYY6PlxfeTQCLcBGAsYHQ/s400/IMG_4285.JPG" width="400" /></a>At 5 pm the ship cast off from the pier, the captain ran the bow and stern thrusters long enough to push us out, and off we sailed with a handsome lighthouse to port, an interesting sailing ship poking around the harbor astern of us, and those other two cruise ships not far ahead.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BnTHaycr-Y0/Xf1iu2aVzjI/AAAAAAAAYRM/Nn5MoA4j7tECpZOPb7kPC-ofYNRQNdq3ACLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_4325.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BnTHaycr-Y0/Xf1iu2aVzjI/AAAAAAAAYRM/Nn5MoA4j7tECpZOPb7kPC-ofYNRQNdq3ACLcBGAsYHQ/s400/IMG_4325.JPG" width="400" /></a>And then it was over in spectacular fashion: New York, New York, waking from night in all the warmth of dawn on a late summer's morn. As the sun rose higher we looked a short way across the harbor to the red brick buildings of Governor's Island with Wall Street looming behind them, then further across the harbor to the older brick buildings on Ellis Island. Somewhere over there is Annie Moore's other statue, and the ghosts of millions of other immigrants who have helped build America.<br />
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With six time zones crossed in 13 days, our minds were almost in sync with the sun. A flight later that day brought us back to Seattle and the end of our journey for this Summer. Thanks for following along. We hope to be doing this yet again next Summer, most likely in the Netherlands. Until then, Happy Trails to all!<br />
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<br />Jeff & Louise Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08667329438445463926noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4009287700201166763.post-44927964373619794082019-12-04T22:33:00.001-08:002019-12-04T22:33:45.444-08:00Cycling Across Southern Denmark -- Part 2<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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We left off our last post at the eastern side of Lolland Island, and pick up today on Falster Island, where we soon turned north. Before crossing the bridge to the city of <span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;">Ny</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: sans-serif;">k</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;">øbing on Falster we photographed the heart of the older part of town. We liked the human scale of the place.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;">Once on Falster we did a quick ride through </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;">Ny</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: sans-serif;">k</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;">øbing and then headed across the island to the Baltic Sea coast. Along the southeast coast there is an extensive beach area much-visited by Danes and Germans in the summer, filling 6,000 summer cottages plus numerous motels and campgrounds. Sounded a bit too busy for us. But the 20 km of coast along the <i>north</i>east edge of Falster that we explored was very low key. Our route was a series of roads, some paved, some not, which paralleled the shore. It was mostly forested, with long stretches of the shore undeveloped.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;">We've seen a huge number of thatched homes in Denmark, more than anywhere else we've been to so far in Europe, but the thatch has always been on the roof, and <i>only</i> on the roof. But in this area they seem to like thatch so much that they also use it on the sides of some houses! It's an attractive look, we think, and is supposed to keep the homes drier and warmer.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;">A small ferry took us to an also small island that was joined to the island of M</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;">øn</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;"> by a causeway. Not many cars use the ferry since a large bridge a few km away is more direct, but many cyclists do ride the ferry because that large bridge is also off-limits for bikes. </span><br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-G--HRRAL85o/XdykozXXDRI/AAAAAAAAX3s/I3NeWTmP798CC_O-_ZMnaGPfcWR1B6t1ACLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_3814.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-G--HRRAL85o/XdykozXXDRI/AAAAAAAAX3s/I3NeWTmP798CC_O-_ZMnaGPfcWR1B6t1ACLcBGAsYHQ/s400/IMG_3814.JPG" width="300" /></a><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;">M</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;">øn</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;"> is not large, about 35 km / 22 mi long, 8 km / 5 mi wide, but our sources said there was much to see here, so once again we booked an apartment for 3 nights. On the way to the main town of Stege, where our lodgings were, we spent an hour at a small church called </span><i style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif;">Fanefjord Kirke</i><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;">. The</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;"> churchyard was up to the usual Danish standards of green and tidy, and the </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;">view of the fjord (actually an undramatic estuary, quite unlike the fjords of Norway) was quite peaceful.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;">But the interior -- Stunning!</span><br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-X3-Fwn1daDM/Xdy0VSTGVAI/AAAAAAAAX54/HQ4qLfZLK_UaVpQULQBTz5maEjCAHqjkQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_3804.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-X3-Fwn1daDM/Xdy0VSTGVAI/AAAAAAAAX54/HQ4qLfZLK_UaVpQULQBTz5maEjCAHqjkQCLcBGAsYHQ/s640/IMG_3804.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RT9yjnqIjBk/Xdyl-xMPlAI/AAAAAAAAX4M/GiQYYoR_JsU7dIdGhTxnOSbcwzU48_2owCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_3807.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1067" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RT9yjnqIjBk/Xdyl-xMPlAI/AAAAAAAAX4M/GiQYYoR_JsU7dIdGhTxnOSbcwzU48_2owCLcBGAsYHQ/s640/IMG_3807.JPG" width="425" /></a><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;">These were artworks we spent some quality time with. The pulpit was up to the standards of some of the best we've seen in Europe, as was the sailing ship hung from the ceiling (a common item in older churches and cathedrals in parts of Europe we've visited).</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;">But the frescoes on the walls and vaulted ceilings . . . we've never seen anything this fascinating before!</span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">Here are a few highlights: the devil quite graphically seizing Judas's soul after he has hanged himself; the creation of Eve from Adam's rib and then the Fall of Man thanks to the Serpent and his apple; God creating the Creatures of the Sea (including mermaids - this is Denmark after all); St. George and the Dragon; and the Last Judgment with the sinners being led off to Hell by the Devil.</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8RYLOJ6xGG8/Xdyptj4Jn2I/AAAAAAAAX40/xVIA60dUxHkEnvpNEVZElt96Vm0u4LBtgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_3798.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="899" data-original-width="1600" height="358" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8RYLOJ6xGG8/Xdyptj4Jn2I/AAAAAAAAX40/xVIA60dUxHkEnvpNEVZElt96Vm0u4LBtgCLcBGAsYHQ/s640/IMG_3798.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">The oldest frescoes date from c. 1350, but most were done around 1500. At some point during the Reformation they were whitewashed over, and not rediscovered until another church on </span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;">M</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;">øn uncovered equally stunning drawings on their own walls in the 1890s. The ones here were partially restored in the 1930s by a museum conservator, and more thoroughly just 11 years ago. </span><br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7GZ-fSRd8FM/Xdyv1bov9QI/AAAAAAAAX5M/AQD_-Nxz4XUNzy0TPDle74WxS6I7l03AACLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_3822.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7GZ-fSRd8FM/Xdyv1bov9QI/AAAAAAAAX5M/AQD_-Nxz4XUNzy0TPDle74WxS6I7l03AACLcBGAsYHQ/s640/IMG_3822.JPG" width="478" /></a><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;">That second church, <i>Elmelunde Kirke</i>, also has wonderful frescoes by the same artist or group of artists, called <i>The Elmelund Master.</i> Once again St. Peter, this time assisted by an angel, leads souls through the door to Heaven. The Elmelund Church had an even more impressive pulpit than Fanefjord's. The carved Last Supper altarpiece is also a treasure.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;">What the church <i>also </i>has is a Bronze Age (about 2,500 - 3,500 years ago) burial mound right in the churchyard. This is of course not accidental. The locals didn't exactly flock to this strange new religion, Christianity, when it came to Denmark. As a way of integrating the new faith into the old one, the church was deliberately placed in this heathen holy place. The Fanefjord Church is also close to a similar mound reputed to be the grave of an ancient queen, but that one is a short distance from the church itself.</span><br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Rh9GqhAboSA/Xdyy62mBCyI/AAAAAAAAX5s/wWQoWYpAx_oxqZ1Abi4OwyjlMESA4uNwgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_3830.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Rh9GqhAboSA/Xdyy62mBCyI/AAAAAAAAX5s/wWQoWYpAx_oxqZ1Abi4OwyjlMESA4uNwgCLcBGAsYHQ/s640/IMG_3830.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HzAmsNo-hus/Xdy3gkj0E-I/AAAAAAAAX6E/APlU1L1BPKozm_uykiJSSvcfZoBmd5OMgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_3816.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HzAmsNo-hus/Xdy3gkj0E-I/AAAAAAAAX6E/APlU1L1BPKozm_uykiJSSvcfZoBmd5OMgCLcBGAsYHQ/s400/IMG_3816.JPG" width="400" /></a><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;">We've been largely, though not slavishly, following National Bike Route 8, about 500 km thus far. It has now merged for a while with Route 9, which we will use off and on as we head north to Copenhagen and Helsing</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;">ør. But first we have our stay on M</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;">øn to complete. Our apartment was a few hundred meters outside the old city walls of Stege, though well within today's city limits. We settled in, emptied the panniers, and rode 2 km back past the City Gate to a large supermarket, doing our best to guess how much food we needed for our 3-night stay.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;">The next day was, again, one of those special rides with no heavy wind-catching luggage. However, the hills ensured that we got a good workout. Both photos just below, by the way, were taken on the Bike Route 8 loop around the island. The traffic was low but cars did come by, sometimes rather fast, and the road is of only ordinary width. Yes, Denmark is a bike-friendly place, but it is definitely behind the Netherlands and Germany in consistently providing routes safe enough for young kids (or aging adults like us). </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;">We had two destinations. The first was Liselund Castle (<i>Liselund Slot</i>), jokingly referred to as the world's only castle with a thatched roof. It was closed at the time but we could get a view inside through one of the windows. The gatekeeper's cottage was also a charmer.</span><br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PvGzuJM4reQ/XdzAF1yYNfI/AAAAAAAAX6w/YxsQVyK1wzYmOWJcQJ4r55QnuUfWny04gCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_3836.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PvGzuJM4reQ/XdzAF1yYNfI/AAAAAAAAX6w/YxsQVyK1wzYmOWJcQJ4r55QnuUfWny04gCLcBGAsYHQ/s640/IMG_3836.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ykx9OmysG6o/XdzET6D3rUI/AAAAAAAAX7I/qrY6onvg1EIvlVGNHAdxFkQfM2IUWA9FwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_3841.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ykx9OmysG6o/XdzET6D3rUI/AAAAAAAAX7I/qrY6onvg1EIvlVGNHAdxFkQfM2IUWA9FwCLcBGAsYHQ/s400/IMG_3841.JPG" width="300" /></a><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;">Our second destination was </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><i>M</i></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><i>øns Klint</i>, the Cliffs of </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;">M</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;">øn. These are tall, almost vertical limestone cliffs, renowned as one of Denmark's most dramatic coastal features. But the bike route getting there was quite hilly and partly on rough dirt roads, and by the time we got there we were too beat to hike down to the beach for the best views. The best we can do is this shot that subtly suggests the unseen drama, plus an 1842 painting of the cliffs by Louis Gurlitt that we saw later in the National Museum of Fine Art.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;">We had one more day on </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;">M</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;">øn, but rain moved in. It let up after lunch, however, so we hopped on the bike to explore a nearby <i>fuglereservat, </i>or bird sanctuary. A viewing platform gave us a wide view of the salt marsh there. Now <i>this </i> was as flat as the Netherlands, one of the few places in Denmark we could say that about.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;">Our next destination was the historic city of Roskilde, 133 km away. We did that over 3 days to have a relaxed view of the area we were going through. We left </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;">M</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;">øn by bridge to our final island, the largest of the many that make up 40% of Denmark. In English it's called Zealand, but the Danish spell that <i>Sjaelland</i>. That's the town of Kalvehave below us as we descended from the high bridge. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;">We were mostly on quiet back roads with no particular tourist sights to visit. With help from a guidebook we were able to route ourselves past Vall</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;">ø Castle. Queen Sophie Magdalene, who owned it, turned it in 1737 into a place where spinster daughters of the Danish nobility could live if they found themselves without any other castle to call home. In recent years it has also welcomed widowed and divorced women, including women not of noble birth. Understandably, it's not open to the public except to look in from the main entrance. Turning 180 degrees around, the second photo shows the rest of the castle estate, probably little changed in the last few centuries.</span><br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CBEGQ__0NSI/Xd4fqQx0kyI/AAAAAAAAX78/ciTkXwRmE4w4q3wiCu6RW9NpOB9Tvac7gCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_3854.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CBEGQ__0NSI/Xd4fqQx0kyI/AAAAAAAAX78/ciTkXwRmE4w4q3wiCu6RW9NpOB9Tvac7gCLcBGAsYHQ/s640/IMG_3854.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LUJkT0FGjiI/Xd4iwOF4PBI/AAAAAAAAX8M/ejGDPj76Mqs6h_48CJ4XXYTWaE4BkhQRwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_3857.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LUJkT0FGjiI/Xd4iwOF4PBI/AAAAAAAAX8M/ejGDPj76Mqs6h_48CJ4XXYTWaE4BkhQRwCLcBGAsYHQ/s400/IMG_3857.JPG" width="400" /></a><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;">Our lodging in Denmark, as elsewhere in Europe, has been a mix of hotels, B&Bs and (for stays of a few days) the occasional apartment. But a dearth of lodging choices led us to try a Danish youth hostel in the small city of K</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;">øge. It was spartan but clean, and we had a 4-bed room to ourselves so neither of us had to climb up to a top bunk. It had a community kitchen as well as a dining room that served a modest choice of food. Louise preferred to cook, and we were surprised to find no one else using the kitchen. At $104, it was one of the least expensive nights we had, and we agreed we'll stay in a hostel again if it seems as well-run as this one.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;">Roskilde is an ancient town, going back to the late 900's. It became the seat of one of Denmark's first bishops, and soon became the capital of Denmark. 40 kings and queens are buried in and under the cathedral, including some recent ones, even though it has been 6 centuries since the city was Denmark's capital. The city is also home to one of the oldest rock festivals in Europe, attracting around 80,000 each of the last few years.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;">But rockers we are not, and <i>our</i> reason for visiting was to see Roskilde's biggest draw, the outstanding Viking Ship Museum.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;">Roskilde was a tempting place for other Vikings to seize and sack, so some time around 1070 AD the locals deliberately sank five old vessels in the main harbor channel to block a route their enemies might use for a sneak attack. In the 1960s these were discovered and ultimately recovered, using coffer dams to access the remains. No vessel was totally intact after such a long time, but enough was there to put them on display using metal frames to show the original shape of the entire vessel. By luck, each of the 5 sunken boats was built for a different purpose, so the complete collection gives a broad view of Viking boat technology.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;">The longship above, what remains today followed by a scale model of what it once may have looked like, could hold 65-70 people, with as many as 60 oars in motion in a pinch. The museum has built a full-sized replica which can cruise at 2.5 knots using 30 oars (apparently, these days it's hard to come up with 60 people at one time, all wanting to do that much hard labor). Using just the sails, on a good day it clipped along at 12 knots. Analysis of the rings in the wood show that the ship was built in or near Dublin Ireland, where there had been a Viking settlement from 800 AD on. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;">The next photo is of a boat built in Norway from pine and later mended with oak from elsewhere. It probably started out being used for fishing and/or whale hunting, but later modifications suggest it became more of a transport vessel before being sunk for that barrier. The following three photos are of a larger transport vessel built in Norway and probably skippered by a crew of 6-8. The museum estimates it sailed at 5-7 knots, though their replica has hit twice that in particularly strong winds.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;">The next boat is a small longboat built for 13 pairs of oars, probably carrying 30 warriors. It could also be sailed at 6-7 knots. </span><br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-T3zEzuOm9nA/XeWg9M1IjiI/AAAAAAAAX-E/PGbNCoer6LUgGAZthwnMwbRq8XrqxTZ1gCEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_3871.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-T3zEzuOm9nA/XeWg9M1IjiI/AAAAAAAAX-E/PGbNCoer6LUgGAZthwnMwbRq8XrqxTZ1gCEwYBhgL/s400/IMG_3871.JPG" width="400" /></a><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;">There were signs around explaining various aspects of the Vikings' shipbuilding methods, such as the different ways they cut the boards and how they attached them to make a hull.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;">In the outside boatyard were several fellows working on the next Viking reconstruction, using tools and methods like the ones originally used, such as axes and adzes for cutting and shaping, or treenails and metal rivets as fasteners. </span><br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-C2mUNEazQnY/XeWku0MuUJI/AAAAAAAAX-8/Qv5h75ipn94g-BgH50ESWFdzZnNzKEOegCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_3873.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1201" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-C2mUNEazQnY/XeWku0MuUJI/AAAAAAAAX-8/Qv5h75ipn94g-BgH50ESWFdzZnNzKEOegCLcBGAsYHQ/s400/IMG_3873.JPG" width="300" /></a><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;">We had biked two hours to reach the museum so didn't have a full day. Even though we were there 'til closing trying to see everything, we ran out of time to have the ultimate thrill of going out in a Viking-replica boat. But we did get to admire the ones that were tied up at the dock and the one that was out "to sea" in the late afternoon. All in all, it was one of the most interesting museums we've seen in our travels.</span><br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ccv0Sxkj63I/XeWkysePnNI/AAAAAAAAX_E/wL4u-l7WGGYL_aNuTCESbCjfp5moiu52ACLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_3908.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="899" data-original-width="1600" height="355" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ccv0Sxkj63I/XeWkysePnNI/AAAAAAAAX_E/wL4u-l7WGGYL_aNuTCESbCjfp5moiu52ACLcBGAsYHQ/s640/IMG_3908.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;">Out on the main pedestrian street in front of our hotel the next morning we watched a parade of several dozen parents transporting or accompanying their kids to school by bike, all of them turning down the same side street to the nearby elementary school. Yes, this is what a bike-friendly country looks like up close.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;">We were now an easy 45 km from the hotel we booked months ago as our last stay in Denmark, but were two days too early! We were lucky to find a manor house and estate that had been converted, with several additional buildings, into a destination hotel for business conferences and the like. It was comfortable and oh, so quiet and peaceful with that large garden right outside our room.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;">We've complained about some aspects of Denmark's bicycle infrastructure, particularly in the countryside where paved routes turned to dirt and bike routes were sometimes on less than ideal roads with no shoulders. But coming into the area around Copenhagen, the system shined. Denmark is in the middle of a multi-year project to create "bicycle superhighways," designed to be "as direct as possible and with as few stops as possible." The ideal is to have bicycles completely segregated from cars <i>and</i> from pedestrians and to avoid all traffic lights and road crossings, but perfection is a tricky thing, and it's doubtful a 'perfect' one will ever be created, though they're getting close with some of them. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2vG1H77Ufe4/XeWteN4Ei9I/AAAAAAAAYAI/2lBLrWMJDE80HzEqawsM4nFTZXxThYqVACLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_3914.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2vG1H77Ufe4/XeWteN4Ei9I/AAAAAAAAYAI/2lBLrWMJDE80HzEqawsM4nFTZXxThYqVACLcBGAsYHQ/s400/IMG_3914.JPG" width="400" /></a>So far 8 have been opened, with 7 more due by the end of 2021. Another 30 in the metro Copenhagen area are thought possible, though that's at least another decade away. The route we took from Roskilde to the outskirts of Copenhagen is one that is not yet done, but many of the elements are there. For now, the trip to the edge of Roskilde was on a lane in the highway that was reserved for buses and cyclists only. Since no buses came by while we were on it, that worked just fine for us, though obviously they need to work on that part a bit more. Once in the countryside we had a safe bike path, though we did have traffic lights at busy road crossings every 1 to 3 km, about half of which required a stop since they were red when we got to them. When we turned off the route on the edge of the big city, the bike path was still alongside the road and separated from it, and now had a pedestrian path alongside it.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GLNleBhp_Uc/XeWw1LgSmTI/AAAAAAAAYAw/80J4pKme0MsW5T6UQ7RBQjXpq7Dz9IqMgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_3919.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GLNleBhp_Uc/XeWw1LgSmTI/AAAAAAAAYAw/80J4pKme0MsW5T6UQ7RBQjXpq7Dz9IqMgCLcBGAsYHQ/s400/IMG_3919.JPG" width="400" /></a>Our turn-off was to a cycle path that largely circles Copenhagen, a relic of Denmark's defensive wall around the city foolishly built in the late 1800s. The country had been so traumatized by the war with Prussia in 1864 that it spent enormous sums to build a structure that was obsolete almost as soon as it was completed. But the park alongside these old ramparts does give the residents today a great place to bike or walk in a half-km-wide greenbelt around the city. As for that sign, it helps explain why we weren't in a hurry to visit Denmark. Jeff's rudimentary knowledge of German allows us to generally know what signs mean in Germany, and the similarity of Dutch to German plus our numerous visits to the Netherlands has us rarely scratching our heads when we come to a sign in Dutch. But Danish, though it has also evolved from German, is a bit further from German, and of the 30-plus different words in this sign, Jeff could only puzzle out six, such as 'you' (du) and 'dog' (hund). With the help of Google Translate, we now know that it tells pedestrians they can walk on the ramparts, but at their own risk; that cyclists should stay on asphalt and gravel paths only; and that you need to leash your dog. Whew!</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yUnIpa9on3Y/XeWvo9EbukI/AAAAAAAAYAo/hOD8PGqlhQ02GRwYbFQDg7h8s5nePXHlQCEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_3918.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yUnIpa9on3Y/XeWvo9EbukI/AAAAAAAAYAo/hOD8PGqlhQ02GRwYbFQDg7h8s5nePXHlQCEwYBhgL/s400/IMG_3918.JPG" width="400" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JtfScR96lJY/XeW0AfSsUlI/AAAAAAAAYA8/sPd8WPVeRnkVLG4I6mfvYvS0q01Io9pHwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_3920.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JtfScR96lJY/XeW0AfSsUlI/AAAAAAAAYA8/sPd8WPVeRnkVLG4I6mfvYvS0q01Io9pHwCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/IMG_3920.JPG" width="320" /></a>This path was also part of National Bike Route 9, which we rejoined when we turned on to it, but it is definitely not part of a bicycle superhighway. It twisted and turned and mostly stayed in the greenbelt, but we had to stop several times to be sure we knew where the heck we were, and/or to carefully guide the tandem around barriers like this. Well, at least we weren't in the middle of heavy car and truck traffic!</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;">Our wonderful hotel was across the street from the eastern shore of Zealand, and across the water was Sweden, perhaps 20 km / 12 mi. away. A large cruise ship was making its way north along the far shore, leaving the Baltic for the North Sea.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QBb4LYMYur0/XeW3gc4R7NI/AAAAAAAAYBU/fx3hLczQ8fsB0kYMGbp5bV53n332n3HzgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_3932.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QBb4LYMYur0/XeW3gc4R7NI/AAAAAAAAYBU/fx3hLczQ8fsB0kYMGbp5bV53n332n3HzgCLcBGAsYHQ/s400/IMG_3932.JPG" width="400" /></a>The next day we got even closer to Sweden by biking north on the Danish shore to Helsingør, Denmark, which is only 6.6 km / 4 miles from the city of Helsingborg, Sweden. Ferries plied their way back and forth, back and forth, a new one every 20 or 30 minutes.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;">Helsingborg appeared to be highly industrial, and we were not at all enticed to take the ferry over and back "just for the heck of it." What we had on the Danish side was far more interesting: Hamlet's castle of "Elsinore." Except it's not Elsinore, that's just what Shakespeare called it, probably because he (like so many others) couldn't spell Helsingør. And in any event the name of the <i>castle</i> itself is <i>Kronborg.</i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_wST9K2Hxek/XeW7WNrtiYI/AAAAAAAAYB8/hnrDkk_FpQsm5kAJS4_uGLDuImUuhYg0ACLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_3939.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1118" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_wST9K2Hxek/XeW7WNrtiYI/AAAAAAAAYB8/hnrDkk_FpQsm5kAJS4_uGLDuImUuhYg0ACLcBGAsYHQ/s640/IMG_3939.JPG" width="446" /></a>The castle overlooks that narrow way into or out of the Baltic, and the king collected a king's ransom in tolls back in the day. Today it brings in new treasure in new ways, thanks to the 1/3 of a million tourists per year who visit. We were two of the non-paying customers, we simply enjoyed exploring the grounds, enjoying the views, and using "Elsinore" as a backdrop for a photo with our tandem <i>Little Red</i> as we pose the question Hamlet the Cyclist might ask today: "To bike or not to bike <span style="background-color: transparent;">— what a <i>silly</i> question."</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yRMNYSgrNek/XeXBBV_MO5I/AAAAAAAAYCQ/7l5Png34L9kTugr6QndMk9vWCj-nAJ1IQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_4000.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1098" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yRMNYSgrNek/XeXBBV_MO5I/AAAAAAAAYCQ/7l5Png34L9kTugr6QndMk9vWCj-nAJ1IQCLcBGAsYHQ/s400/IMG_4000.JPG" width="273" /></a>At last we reached our final hotel, a former hunting lodge that was converted to a hotel, <i>Schaefferg</i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">Ã¥</span><i>rden. </i> We looked at our bike computer and saw that it was only 22 km shy of 3,000 km for the summer, so off we went to Copenhagen and back, testing out a completed Cycle Superhighway, Route C95. Note the white C in a red circle 'branding' it as a superhighway. The route was "super," and we only encountered three traffic lights each way, half of which were green when we approached. We've read that the average bike commute in Copenhagen before the first cycle superhighway was opened was a modest 6 km. The average bike commute in the neighborhoods served by the superhighways that have opened is now double that, with many more users.</span></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0RNA2k4uozI/XeXBEw5X2VI/AAAAAAAAYCU/Lo5AOIuID8goBHkLkMF2Jfro2KwvzZN0wCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_3943.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0RNA2k4uozI/XeXBEw5X2VI/AAAAAAAAYCU/Lo5AOIuID8goBHkLkMF2Jfro2KwvzZN0wCLcBGAsYHQ/s640/IMG_3943.JPG" width="480" /></a><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: georgia, serif;">Sure enough, our ride also got that bike computer to read </span><i style="color: #333333; font-family: georgia, serif;">3,000! </i><span style="color: #333333; font-family: georgia, serif;">W</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: georgia, serif;">ith that task accomplished, we turned our attention to the 2-hour task of cleaning and packing up our beloved bike for the trip home, at this wonderful location in the </span><i style="color: #333333; font-family: georgia, serif;">Schaefferg</i><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">Ã¥</span><i style="color: #333333; font-family: georgia, serif;">rden </i><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: georgia, serif;">garden.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent;">We were down to two days of sightseeing in Denmark without the bike. The first of these saw us taking the light rail to the National Art Gallery of Denmark, the largest art museum in the country. One of the first things to attract our attention was a painting of <i>Kronborg Castle,</i> which we had just seen two days earlier. It was done in 1829 by Danish painter C. W. Eckersberg. As you may have noticed from our blog entries, the Danes have a ton of castles, and the following two photos are images of a castle we did not get to, <i>Frederiksborg Slot.</i> The first is of the castle at midnight by Norwegian artist J. C. Dahl, done in 1817, the last one Christen K</span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: georgia, serif;">øbe's view of <i>Frederiksborg </i>in the the evening, painted in 1835.</span></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EQWYCgO97lE/XehkMrdCb6I/AAAAAAAAYDQ/7X_QFi-4Nw4mKcxOEMkU0wBF24ujXp6xwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_3985.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1211" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EQWYCgO97lE/XehkMrdCb6I/AAAAAAAAYDQ/7X_QFi-4Nw4mKcxOEMkU0wBF24ujXp6xwCLcBGAsYHQ/s640/IMG_3985.JPG" width="483" /></a><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent;">Mermaid sightings are rare these days, but the Danes seem to have seen quite a few in the past. Besides the one we showed you in the <i>Fanefjord Kirke</i> and the famous statue of the little mermaid in Copenhagen harbor that you've seen or heard about, at least two more were lurking inside the museum. The first (below) was inspired by Hans Christian Anderson's fairy tale <i>The Little Mermaid,</i> and was painted in 1847 by Elisabeth Jerichau-Baumann. The statue -- who knows? Perhaps it was sculpted from an actual mermaid sighting. It was done in 1921 by Anne Marie Carl-Nielsen.</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9BtDB9KGVYs/XehkHijbljI/AAAAAAAAYDM/ubxUhDeBSm8vN8ujIHMeZnXgdA5BoNPQgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_3957.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1188" data-original-width="1600" height="474" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9BtDB9KGVYs/XehkHijbljI/AAAAAAAAYDM/ubxUhDeBSm8vN8ujIHMeZnXgdA5BoNPQgCLcBGAsYHQ/s640/IMG_3957.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-veRavSIWdfM/Xeh0sPP95LI/AAAAAAAAYDg/7pws42ba_3Uh4gyjC3va6BAnKzBSx9BxACLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_3994.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1433" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-veRavSIWdfM/Xeh0sPP95LI/AAAAAAAAYDg/7pws42ba_3Uh4gyjC3va6BAnKzBSx9BxACLcBGAsYHQ/s640/IMG_3994.JPG" width="572" /></a><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent;">As Denmark's major art collection, the museum had a number of noteworthy paintings. Perhaps the most famous one, a painting you've likely seen reproduced in art books before, is Henri Matisse's portrait of Madame Matisse, also known as <i>The Green Line</i> for the bold shadow line running down Madame's face. The museum also has several excellent works by the renowned Norwegian artist Edvard Munch, such as <i>Evening Talk</i> (1889), <i>Workers on Their Way Home </i>(1914) and <i>Death Struggle</i> (1915), the last of which evokes some of the 'weirdness' of Munch's most famous painting, <i>The Scream</i>.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VAad5h8fNT4/Xeh0uKkn-TI/AAAAAAAAYDk/BG1L7WPPVF0LSBt04J4QY6Ovae-bOpedwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_3991.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="769" data-original-width="1600" height="306" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VAad5h8fNT4/Xeh0uKkn-TI/AAAAAAAAYDk/BG1L7WPPVF0LSBt04J4QY6Ovae-bOpedwCLcBGAsYHQ/s640/IMG_3991.JPG" width="640" /></a></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dMSKDN3AuXA/Xeh01HAy_6I/AAAAAAAAYDo/up_uiaui_NgXXjMch6zbXmoVMCke6MXEgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_3963.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1224" data-original-width="1600" height="488" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dMSKDN3AuXA/Xeh01HAy_6I/AAAAAAAAYDo/up_uiaui_NgXXjMch6zbXmoVMCke6MXEgCLcBGAsYHQ/s640/IMG_3963.JPG" width="640" /></a></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RyVJIoblyB8/Xeh50g1zERI/AAAAAAAAYD8/L6MrB3w9mssjwMYyH0rOCuYjKq5Yr5HjwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_3945.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1402" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RyVJIoblyB8/Xeh50g1zERI/AAAAAAAAYD8/L6MrB3w9mssjwMYyH0rOCuYjKq5Yr5HjwCLcBGAsYHQ/s640/IMG_3945.JPG" width="560" /></a><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent;">What we were most interested in seeing, however, were paintings by or about Denmark. There were lots, as you would expect. Three good genre paintings were <i>The Waagepeterson Family</i> (1830) by Wilhelm Bendz, depicting the family of a Copenhagen wine merchant; Julius Exner's 1853 <i>Visiting Grandfather</i>, which needs no explanation; and Peter Hansen's <i>Playing Children, Enghave Square,</i> depicting a small park in Copenhagen in 1908.</span></span></div>
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<i>A Sardine Cannery in Concarneau</i> looks like it ought to be set in Denmark, but though it is by Danish artist Peder Severin Kreyer, it is actually of a cannery in Brittany, France in 1879. The painting that follows is a sort of 1828 genre painting without people, entitled <i>The Rear Courtyard of Charlottenborg Palace.</i> It's a good counterpoint to all those other castle paintings above, and it shows a side of life that rarely makes it into fine art. A similar type of painting became popular in the United States some seven decades later and became known as the <i>Ashcan School of Painting.</i> Well, the Danes got there first!<br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">We'll close with a painting that illustrates something we saw in Denmark more than elsewhere in Europe but have not yet commented on, <i>pollarded</i> trees. In Laurits Andersen Ring's 1898 painting <i>A Road Near Vinder</i><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333;"><i>ød, Zealand, </i>the trees have all been heavily pruned at some time in the prior few years and then seen new branches spring up. This process, called pollarding, used to be done mainly to harvest leaves for animal grazing during the winter, or to force the new growth to shoot up staighter-than-normal for wood that could be used as fence posts or other building purposes. Nowadays it is most often done to limit the height of trees. We never did find out why in Denmark it is still done, not especially widely, but more than we've seen elsewhere.</span></span><br />
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Fine Art is one way of getting into another culture. Another way is through its architecture and artifacts, particularly vernacular examples. The <i>Frilandsmuseet</i>, or <i>Open Air Museum,</i> a part of the National Museum of Denmark, was just the place for us. Two buses with an easy transfer got us there. It's one of the largest museums of this type in the world, containing over 50 buildings carefully disassembled from all over Denmark and rebuilt here. All parts of Denmark were represented, including the Faroe Islands, an autonomous part of the Kingdom of Denmark that is 200 miles NNW of Scotland and about half-way between Norway and Iceland. The buildings and artifacts that make up the museum represent rural life in Denmark from 1650 to 1950, including areas that were part of Denmark in this time period but are no longer Danish, such as parts of southern Sweden and German parts of Schleswig that we discussed in our last blog entry.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-r8mkrYy5npc/XeiM93CJn_I/AAAAAAAAYE8/OjKhWYbHHusl08hsLm0w2TjsIFrvSOcnQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_4005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1067" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-r8mkrYy5npc/XeiM93CJn_I/AAAAAAAAYE8/OjKhWYbHHusl08hsLm0w2TjsIFrvSOcnQCLcBGAsYHQ/s400/IMG_4005.JPG" width="265" /></a>In that last blog we also talked about the U-shaped houses, with rooms on three sides of an open court, and one of the first farm buildings we came to was just such a place. We call it a farm building rather than a farm house because it was one continuous structure with indoor lodging for both man and beast, and working space as well such as the cobbler's workshop. Another place nearby had much smoother floors, but the ceiling rafters were a bit of a challenge for tall Jeff.<br />
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Many of the buildings let you mentally populate the place with all the people and animals that are known to have lived there at a certain point in time.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ayV28DuRm3s/XeiOljXgH9I/AAAAAAAAYFc/3kCZLeuZ9xUqscAcML3F5n-KP3ZRJ3DsQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_4022.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="899" data-original-width="1600" height="358" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ayV28DuRm3s/XeiOljXgH9I/AAAAAAAAYFc/3kCZLeuZ9xUqscAcML3F5n-KP3ZRJ3DsQCLcBGAsYHQ/s640/IMG_4022.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Many houses had additional information to help you picture life at some past time.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LSelWiUAF-8/XeiPXHH4PsI/AAAAAAAAYFk/v6eAR0x8Mo4OZNYcBiV37MUDGGKXe89KwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_4033.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LSelWiUAF-8/XeiPXHH4PsI/AAAAAAAAYFk/v6eAR0x8Mo4OZNYcBiV37MUDGGKXe89KwCLcBGAsYHQ/s640/IMG_4033.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;">One large building with multiple apartments had each one done in a way that represented a different time period, from the 17th to the mid-20th centuries.</span></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7XQbCCT8cLM/XeiQPApP5KI/AAAAAAAAYF4/3xL0W6PqY9c9E6pRmSV4Hdo3qA3ihqDiwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_4013.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7XQbCCT8cLM/XeiQPApP5KI/AAAAAAAAYF4/3xL0W6PqY9c9E6pRmSV4Hdo3qA3ihqDiwCLcBGAsYHQ/s640/IMG_4013.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , serif;">There was a mill that was a mechanical engineer's dream, though it had hardly a piece of metal in view. Unlike some museum villages of this type, there were no craftspeople making and shaping things, but there were a few guides who wandered about and could tell you more about pretty much any building or its contents.</span></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-esRI8pj3jaA/XeiTKrQCpgI/AAAAAAAAYGQ/Kwjd5W78wzQ3vFOSH3Ksrje8ODlWa3_vACLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_4048.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="899" data-original-width="1600" height="358" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-esRI8pj3jaA/XeiTKrQCpgI/AAAAAAAAYGQ/Kwjd5W78wzQ3vFOSH3Ksrje8ODlWa3_vACLcBGAsYHQ/s640/IMG_4048.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Y1RmcVG88yc/XeiT9r3g4AI/AAAAAAAAYGc/ddjkz_yBtlYEZMvziNzBcJfrhgY3Gti4ACLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_4038.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Y1RmcVG88yc/XeiT9r3g4AI/AAAAAAAAYGc/ddjkz_yBtlYEZMvziNzBcJfrhgY3Gti4ACLcBGAsYHQ/s400/IMG_4038.JPG" width="300" /></a>And of course there was thatch, nearly everywhere, and in one group of buildings it looked like thatch on steroids.</div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tx82bIaZrRg/XeiT_cqQhuI/AAAAAAAAYGg/oYCf-K4JnuARiJJlD9i1Fpnz1VEuX3EAQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_4039.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tx82bIaZrRg/XeiT_cqQhuI/AAAAAAAAYGg/oYCf-K4JnuARiJJlD9i1Fpnz1VEuX3EAQCLcBGAsYHQ/s400/IMG_4039.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Not all the roofs were thatch. Some were sod. The first one is from the part of Schleswig that was taken by Germany but came back to Denmark in 1920. The second photo is of the parlor in this house. The second and third houses are from the Faroes, where life is lived pretty much on the margin as far as the elements are concerned.</div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TCv9fINtr-I/XeiU87YshbI/AAAAAAAAYHA/6LgJPw9mZ3MLzF8Y5zPUwlY2rkWouyrFACLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_4051.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TCv9fINtr-I/XeiU87YshbI/AAAAAAAAYHA/6LgJPw9mZ3MLzF8Y5zPUwlY2rkWouyrFACLcBGAsYHQ/s640/IMG_4051.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VS1jDcF1dOA/XeiVAWFjjeI/AAAAAAAAYHE/rYm7eWMTrK8hxZR8aJDGvGSDOletNDBYwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_4064.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="899" data-original-width="1600" height="358" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VS1jDcF1dOA/XeiVAWFjjeI/AAAAAAAAYHE/rYm7eWMTrK8hxZR8aJDGvGSDOletNDBYwCLcBGAsYHQ/s640/IMG_4064.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3QANocnRbL4/XeiVDyGmNJI/AAAAAAAAYHI/LpV3jmzKJzoCHLcbDLwYAOViX9liMt69QCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_4066.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3QANocnRbL4/XeiVDyGmNJI/AAAAAAAAYHI/LpV3jmzKJzoCHLcbDLwYAOViX9liMt69QCLcBGAsYHQ/s640/IMG_4066.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0OUPTuZuyds/XeiVjF7MouI/AAAAAAAAYHc/xWq4QLg42BI1DGWBpTRvw55m2ymQIWK9wCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_4024.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="779" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0OUPTuZuyds/XeiVjF7MouI/AAAAAAAAYHc/xWq4QLg42BI1DGWBpTRvw55m2ymQIWK9wCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/IMG_4024.JPG" width="155" /></a>We'll close our tour with a smattering of other parts of the museum, ending with a place where the kids were able to let off some steam.<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--yJ9fIJHoNc/XeiV-AZLJWI/AAAAAAAAYH4/Uf_KfajWplgl7P8BfdTmxUW0QcsUO-prQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_4069.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--yJ9fIJHoNc/XeiV-AZLJWI/AAAAAAAAYH4/Uf_KfajWplgl7P8BfdTmxUW0QcsUO-prQCLcBGAsYHQ/s400/IMG_4069.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fYC_e-g5NZI/XeiVmL-90GI/AAAAAAAAYHg/h6lGSVB4Sa0tQTZbG_b1-ozL6gapuC1JgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_4020.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="899" data-original-width="1600" height="358" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fYC_e-g5NZI/XeiVmL-90GI/AAAAAAAAYHg/h6lGSVB4Sa0tQTZbG_b1-ozL6gapuC1JgCLcBGAsYHQ/s640/IMG_4020.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KpnWNVJ5IEU/XeiV4rwxB8I/AAAAAAAAYH0/RVC02T-R6pUZywBq8Mu_in-noMr8DefuQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_4058.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1201" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KpnWNVJ5IEU/XeiV4rwxB8I/AAAAAAAAYH0/RVC02T-R6pUZywBq8Mu_in-noMr8DefuQCLcBGAsYHQ/s640/IMG_4058.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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And then it was over. 89 days after landing in Germany, it was time to leave. We took the light rail to a station near the harbor and then walked the last 3 km to the <i>Regal Princess, </i>our home for the next 13 days as we traveled across the Atlantic to New York City, where we caught a flight home to Seattle. <i>Everything</i> we have needed for our biking and adventuring in Europe this past summer is in those four suitcases, one bike pannier (the other empty one is in one of the suitcases) and two small backpacks. </div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lEG2QnOUU5I/XeiXVD7hqzI/AAAAAAAAYIc/JKlTTY--T8IutDnpzKCsCxJy03t0P69gwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_4079.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lEG2QnOUU5I/XeiXVD7hqzI/AAAAAAAAYIc/JKlTTY--T8IutDnpzKCsCxJy03t0P69gwCLcBGAsYHQ/s640/IMG_4079.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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As we left Copenhagen we saw just to our south the <i lang="da" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: sans-serif;">Øresund </i><span lang="da" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: sans-serif;">bridge, which since July 1, 2000 has connected Denmark and Sweden for cars, trains and internet cables. In our photo you can see most of the 8 km that are bridge, and on the right the artificial island where the road and rail descend into a 4 km tunnel for the rest of the trip from the Scandinavian Peninsula to the main part of continental Europe. An hour later our ship was passing an old friend, <i>Kronborg Castle</i>. Behind us was another cruise ship, with industrial Helsingborg on the Swedish shore behind it.</span></div>
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And with those last glimpses of Denmark, we'll close today's blog entry. We will shortly write one more short entry to share what our repositioning cruise across the North Atlantic was like before putting the Redtandem blog in Winter hibernation.</div>
Jeff & Louise Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08667329438445463926noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4009287700201166763.post-83260103236598459622019-11-24T16:48:00.001-08:002019-11-24T16:48:20.623-08:00Cycling Across Southern Denmark - Part 1We left off our last blog episode at the border of Denmark on August 8 (yes, we've been a bit neglectful about getting back to finish this year's episodes). We found ourselves here because in reading up on cycling in Europe over the years, we kept seeing Denmark consistently ranked, together with the Netherlands and Germany, as one of the most bike-friendly countries in the world. It was time to see for ourselves.<br />
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Denmark is a country of modest size. It's 8% bigger than the Netherlands, but only 1/8 as large as its neighbor Germany. If you combine New Hampshire and Vermont, then take away a county or two, you've got the area of Denmark. As for population, its 5.8 million people are almost 3 times as many folks as you'd find in New Hampshire and Vermont combined, but less than a third the number of inhabitants of the Netherlands.<br />
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About 60% of Denmark's land area is on the large peninsula that connects Denmark and Germany, called Jutland in English or <i>Jylland </i>in Danish. Except for the first 40 km of our travels in Denmark, we were <i>not</i> in Jutland but rather on 9 large and 3 small islands in the southeastern part of the country. Indeed, all of Denmark except for the Jutland peninsula is on islands, 422 named ones and another 1,000 unnamed ones 100 square meters or larger (about the size of a school classroom). Although advances in technology have enabled the Danes to connect many of these by impressively long bridges, there are nonetheless many large gaps that can only be 'bridged' by ferry, and we ended up taking ten of them in our month there.<br />
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In today's blog entry we'll cover the mostly eastward part of our trip, from the German border across that corner of Jutland, then the islands of Als, Funen, Aero, <span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">TÃ¥singe, Langeland and Lolland. This was</span> precisely half of our 880 km / 550 mi. in Denmark.<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;"> We'll head north in the next blog and do the other half.</span></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Yto49uQv7YM/XdFkNMfkcJI/AAAAAAAAXkk/_yyLRTg6g3EBzwC7kadGdOy1U-nS-cQWwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/Danish%2Bnational%2Bbike%2Broutes.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="638" data-original-width="505" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Yto49uQv7YM/XdFkNMfkcJI/AAAAAAAAXkk/_yyLRTg6g3EBzwC7kadGdOy1U-nS-cQWwCLcBGAsYHQ/s400/Danish%2Bnational%2Bbike%2Broutes.png" width="316" /></a><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">Denmark has a national network of bike routes, and we mostly followed Route 8 as we headed east and 9 for the northward part of our trip, supplemented at times by regional routes marked by numbers from 20 to 99. We also had a map showing these, but two problems arose. First, the route had been shifted in at least 3 instances we encountered between the printing of the map and our arrival. Each time we followed the map rather than the signs. Second, while the map did distinguish between paved and unpaved roads, it did so only for those which were <i>not</i> part of a bike route. We were never sure what we would find. Our first 4 km in Denmark were a rude shock when we biked into a protected forest area at the Danish-German border in order to connect with Route 8, and found ourselves off pavement, not on packed limestone but on dirt. It would have been no problem for a single mountain bike, but our road tandem with luggage was not up to it (or more precisely its passengers -- us). We ended up walking half of the 4 km each time it went uphill or downhill. Hmmm, this is not an auspicious start!</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">When we exited the forest preserve, we next found that Route 8 had become not a bike path but rather the shoulder of a highway. It was not a major highway, but the shoulder was only about 2 feet / 60 cm wide. Again, not what we've encountered in Germany and the Netherlands, where bike lanes on the side of a road are less common and much wider when they do occur. However . . . halfway to our destination of </span>Sønderborg we had a surprise that was as pleasant as the first two had been disappointing. We were on a section of a quiet side road when a cyclist approached us with a mobile visitor info bureau.</div>
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<span style="background-color: white;">Her summer job is to bike along National Bike Route 8 and other bike routes leading into </span>Sønderborg to welcome cyclists to Denmark and to provide maps, brochures and advice. We were actually adequately supplied with maps and had done enough research to know which tourist destinations we wanted to visit in that area, but she did provide us other useful advice such as how best to find lodging in Denmark, and she reassured us that we would find Denmark more credit-card friendly than most countries in Europe. In fact it was. Unlike almost every other European country we've biked in, Denmark does not use the euro but rather the Danish Krone. So we had to stop at the first ATM we encountered once we crossed the border to get a supply of them. We usually find it necessary to get cash from ATMs every 2-3 weeks in the countries we've visited so far in Europe, but here the cash we took out at that first ATM was still mostly in our wallet at the end of our time in Denmark, and we had to find creative ways to spend it in the last two days. In any event, it was nice to have such a personal welcome to cycling in Denmark.</div>
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Our route was mostly along the shore, and we stopped once to photograph a pair of city-block-sized islands. It seems so romantic to have a house on your own private island, but we wonder how the residents feel about the trip home on dark and stormy nights?</div>
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There aren't quite as many castles and manor houses in Denmark as islands, but the number of them is still impressively large. We encountered our first one only 40 km in, Sønderborg Castle. The oldest part of it dates to 1158, with major expansions in the 14th and 16th centuries. It was the prison home of King Christian II of Denmark for 17 years in the 1500's after he was deposed.</div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ITBQLhqyL88/XdF45IJxeDI/AAAAAAAAXlU/ceqx7x6W2CYWyGPlhNGbRu4owwyTzq5NwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/Schleswig%2BHolstein.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="361" data-original-width="461" height="312" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ITBQLhqyL88/XdF45IJxeDI/AAAAAAAAXlU/ceqx7x6W2CYWyGPlhNGbRu4owwyTzq5NwCLcBGAsYHQ/s400/Schleswig%2BHolstein.jpg" width="400" /></a>Today the castle is a museum of local culture and history, mainly focusing on the complex history of the area known as Schleswig-Holstein. As in many parts of Europe, Schleswig and Holstein were inhabited for centuries by people from multiple language groups, here largely Danish and German. In the mid-1800s the area was considered the property of the Danish king but <i>not</i> part of the nation of Denmark. In the 1860s there were two wars fought over these lands between Denmark and Prussia. In the first, the Prussians were the aggressors, and England, France and Russia forced Prussia to back down. That emboldened the Danish king who, 2 years later, announced that the area <i>was</i> in fact part of his nation. Prussia went to war again to protect the German-speaking inhabitants from this Danish "aggression," and the rest of Europe this time stayed out of the dispute. Prussia easily defeated the Danes and annexed the whole area in 1864, even though there were relatively few German-speaking inhabitants in the northern part of Schleswig. Jump forward to WW I and the defeat of Germany, of which Prussia was a major part. The victorious Allies let Germany keep Holstein in the south, which was heavily Germanic, but held a plebiscite for north Schleswig and south Schleswig. The northern part voted to return to Denmark, the southern to stay German, and the border has not changed in the 99 years since then. But in Sønderborg (marked with a red dot on the map), feelings about this 56-year period of being involuntarily part of Germany are still intense. Many Danes have mixed emotions about Germany because of its 5-year occupation of Denmark during WW II, but here in north Schleswig the feelings seem definitely more pronounced.</div>
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We saw many homes, especially in smaller communities, that were wonderfully old and quaint, but Denmark also has a modernist streak as well -- just think of 'Danish Modern' furniture. Our first night in Denmark was in the decidedly modern Steigenberger Alsik Hotel and Spa on Als Island, across the narrow estuary that separates it from Jutland. The tall black box is the hotel, the lower area to the left the spa complex. From the viewpoint on the next-to-top floor we had a spectacular view of the city and surrounding countryside, including the modern campus of the Suddansk Universitet across the water to the west, and then to the south for a different perspective on Sønderborg Castle than our first view of it.</div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IaooOWYXUmU/XdMw1DVbU3I/AAAAAAAAXl8/0mccEsCF5hkFkccayX6P9q-CPxnFQcUIgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_3443.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1201" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IaooOWYXUmU/XdMw1DVbU3I/AAAAAAAAXl8/0mccEsCF5hkFkccayX6P9q-CPxnFQcUIgCLcBGAsYHQ/s640/IMG_3443.JPG" width="480" /></a>We visited the castle the next day and learned much about Schleswig-Holstein history but also saw the castle's medieval chapel that was redecorated soon after Lutheranism came to Denmark. One of Luther's main accomplishments was to publish the Bible in the vernacular, making it accessible to common folks for the first time, and there were panels all around the chapel with famous excepts from his German Bible. The first words of this one are "The Lord is my shepherd," and many of you can probably recite the rest of this verse even if you can't read Old German. In another room there were two samplers done by girls who were probably 12-15 years old when they stitched them. This one dates from 1870. Since our meeting 11 years ago with Stephen and Carol Huber, Connecticut antique dealers <i>extraordinaire </i>who specialize in this art form, we always perk up when we see a sampler anywhere.</div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-b4YS6AlcHG4/XdM0CTcDCoI/AAAAAAAAXmQ/NPEiglFa0W45YNT20N3YrIWI-53YbnFSwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_3455.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1201" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-b4YS6AlcHG4/XdM0CTcDCoI/AAAAAAAAXmQ/NPEiglFa0W45YNT20N3YrIWI-53YbnFSwCLcBGAsYHQ/s400/IMG_3455.JPG" width="400" /></a>We had gotten to Als Island on a fairly short drawbridge, but the gap from Als to Funen, our next island, was kilometers, not meters, so we had our first Danish ferry ride. This ferry like many others we took had a curious feature. The furthest lane is for tall vehicles such as the trailer you see, or tall trucks. The other lanes have a movable second level. It lowers somewhat then has a ramp that comes down to the car deck at the tip of the deck. Cars drive up the ramp onto this movable deck until it's filled, then the ramp retracts and the entire deck lifts up. Finally, cars drive in to the spaces underneath it, on the main deck. The headroom getting out of your car is not great but it's adequate, and this tight packing keeps the weight of vehicles in the ferry lower, giving the boat better stability.</div>
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We had a pleasant ride eastward with a tailwind still coming from the SW, as it had been doing for the past 2 weeks. We saw the small city of Faaborg well before we arrived for what we thought would be a 2-night stay in an apartment. It turned out to be very comfortable and right in the heart of the city, with a very nice supermarket only 4 minutes away by foot, and when the weather turned wet at the end of those 2 days we decided to stay on for 3 more nights. We enjoyed the whole stay.</div>
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The next morning we took a ferry to the small island of Bjørnø and explored the small village, the size of about 3 or 4 city blocks, and then took a walk 2 km along the south shore and back on the north shore. Here 's the Faaborg harbor as we left and then looking back from the island, plus various scenes on our walk.</div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-H9x5QuM61u8/XdNBvNpgWaI/AAAAAAAAXn0/XR3Tb_YofAUJYCrdegvNz3SzmIafv-05wCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_3530.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-H9x5QuM61u8/XdNBvNpgWaI/AAAAAAAAXn0/XR3Tb_YofAUJYCrdegvNz3SzmIafv-05wCLcBGAsYHQ/s400/IMG_3530.JPG" width="300" /></a>That tall tower in Faaborg is known as the Belfry and is over 750 years old. In the reformation the church it was attached to was torn down, but the tower stayed since it was such a good landmark for sailors. On our return to town we climbed to the top of the Belfry, which still calls out the time four times an hour, then walked about Faaborg. It is quite a charming town.</div>
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The following day promised rain all day and our place was available so we stayed in except for a short trip to the grocery store. In the evening the rain let up in time for us to walk to the town museum where we heard a concert of music performed by a clarinet trio. It's always so nice to hear live music, one of the things we don't seem to be able to find in time most summers.<br />
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The rain let up for a day and we took a different ferry off to two more islands that were large enough to explore by bike, Lyø and Avernakø. The ferry does a triangular route, and the schedule allowed us to both see Lyø and have a great wood-fired pizza at the only place in this small town that serves food.<br />
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Besides the many quaint homes we passed, we also saw a windmill that was missing some important parts, an attractive village church and churchyard, a lost hedgehog, and a dolmen. This is the word in English for a prehistoric stone burial structure. We've seen others in the Netherlands, where they are called <i>hunnebeden.</i> This one is almost certainly older than Stonehenge, though a tad less impressive.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9UpvuC8rFFU/XdNY1mqWfXI/AAAAAAAAXp8/V6wEeBv2zzY1BAw45bpzTUjzvxpIsSc6ACLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_3551.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="298" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9UpvuC8rFFU/XdNY1mqWfXI/AAAAAAAAXp8/V6wEeBv2zzY1BAw45bpzTUjzvxpIsSc6ACLcBGAsYHQ/s400/IMG_3551.JPG" width="400" /></a>On Avernakø we saw more wonderful scenery, including this lonesome home looking out at the Baltic Sea. Nearby was one of the last roses of summer, with rose hips that looked like ripe tomatoes!<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GBpOZV7DuJA/XdiCd8XCtjI/AAAAAAAAXqM/-QoSycTJEDAXeDuCBCHVrJuuVbOwPWkxQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_3576.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GBpOZV7DuJA/XdiCd8XCtjI/AAAAAAAAXqM/-QoSycTJEDAXeDuCBCHVrJuuVbOwPWkxQCLcBGAsYHQ/s400/IMG_3576.JPG" width="400" /></a>After one more rainy day that saw us catching up on reading and trip planning all day, we finally got back to biking and rode to our next destination, Svendborg, another small city on the south coast of Funen Island. And here we stayed for three nights as still more rain came in -- a total of 4 out of 6 days where the rain kept us in the better part of the day. But not totally inside -- during breaks in the rain we got out for a few walks, none more interesting than our walk through another cemetery. We have never seen cemeteries as well kept as we saw all along our route through Denmark, but this one was particularly attractive and lush with vegetation. Indeed, in some places we have no idea whether there are even any bodies below, it seems so much like a garden. Here are a few photos.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mo0rc4FMdlA/XdiEDC4dtfI/AAAAAAAAXqw/8jQKUhKvZPMzdPsll2zRuWfUfe6_d8qhgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_3586.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="899" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mo0rc4FMdlA/XdiEDC4dtfI/AAAAAAAAXqw/8jQKUhKvZPMzdPsll2zRuWfUfe6_d8qhgCLcBGAsYHQ/s400/IMG_3586.JPG" width="223" /></a><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BuLnm10U4mU/XdiD_-DIR7I/AAAAAAAAXqs/pYGoEPE38Z0at-gpgznwt8eBrgTkJQbzACLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_3578.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1067" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BuLnm10U4mU/XdiD_-DIR7I/AAAAAAAAXqs/pYGoEPE38Z0at-gpgznwt8eBrgTkJQbzACLcBGAsYHQ/s400/IMG_3578.JPG" width="266" /></a> Two spots were particularly poignant. In the photo to the left, all the graves were those of Danish soldiers who died at the hands of the Germans during WW II. The death toll for the country was not large since the country saw that resistance by tiny Denmark to the Nazi juggernaut was pointless and surrendered quickly. But it was far from bloodless. The photo on the right is of one of the graves in a group of 7. All were Brits and Aussies, the entire crew of an RAF bomber shot down over Denmark as it headed toward naval facilities on Germany's Baltic coast.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QJwy6HPE6RQ/XdiFDuxExKI/AAAAAAAAXrA/jtq4mDieXFYSon00EG3rEDigMB5kM2y8gCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_3591.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1067" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QJwy6HPE6RQ/XdiFDuxExKI/AAAAAAAAXrA/jtq4mDieXFYSon00EG3rEDigMB5kM2y8gCLcBGAsYHQ/s400/IMG_3591.JPG" width="266" /></a> Here are a few shots from our walk about the town, including a very dapper fox in one of the shop windows.<br />
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With all that rain delay, we were anxious to get moving again. We hopped on the ferry to Aerø Island and it looked like we were about to have another dismal day. The rain did come down in buckets, but only for a few minutes while we were on the ferry. We had an Airbnb apartment rented on the island for two nights and were anxious to see as much of Aerø as we could, since guidebook after guidebook described it as one of the best places to bike in Denmark. It was indeed scenic and bike-friendly.<br />
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We'll start with a shot of our ferry, now headed back, and then some very colorful shacks along the water. Danish homes tend to be quite colorful, but the palette is rarely this bold. In town we took photos of several streets with colorful homes in more of the usual colors.<br />
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Those bricks were rather bouncy to ride on, but not impossible. Outside the town the route was mostly on quiet paved roads, but bicycle route 8 did send us down one section of unpaved road for about 3 km. At the west end of Aerø we came to a small lighthouse which, for a few Krone, we were able to climb. A look back east shows some of the rolling terrain typical of Denmark.<br />
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On Aerø the challenge was the wind more than the hills. Luckily our Airbnb hosts, Janice and Nils, had been at home when we came by early, and we dropped off our panniers before going out onto the exposed point where the lighthouse was. The panniers are about 14 lbs / 6 kg each, but they also catch a bit of the wind, and it is much more fun to ride without them, when we can manage.<br />
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Our hostess Janice is a New Zealander, and it was fun to hear a Kiwi accent again, something we haven't heard much since our visit there in 2008-09. Their home here on Aerø dates to the late 1700s, and was something of a wreck before they renovated it. It's stunning now, and it was oh, so comfortable!<br />
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Although our place was in a tiny village with no stores, there was a supermarket a few km away where we were able to get fixings for supper each night. We had seen roughly half of the 90-km circular bike route around the island on day 1, so for day 2 we of course completed the loop. As we left our lodgings we paused to take a shot of one of the neighboring homes, and then a few km down the highway photographed a home that represents a style of older (as in a few centuries old) home that we have seen frequently, one long axis and two shorter axes at right angles, enclosing a central courtyard area.<br />
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Our guidebook strongly suggested we stop to see the Bregninge Kirke, the Lutheran church in the village of that name. It was worth doing so. And, of course, the churchyard had exceedingly well-tended gravesites.<br />
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By comparing a few maps we identified a few sections of bike route 8 that were unpaved, and avoided them. This was no problem, there really is not much traffic on Aerø. We once again had no luggage, so things looked great until we noticed an ominous cloud gaining on us from behind. We picked up the pace, to no avail. Since this is a very rural place, our refuge was underneath a tree. Luckily the storm, though intense, was brief, and the rain was just beginning to drip through the many layers of leaves above us when we were able to come out and resume our biking, mostly dry. Later in the ride we did have a section of gravel path but it was underlain by packed limestone and it was level, so the only challenge was for Jeff to navigate the fairly narrow route it cut along the shore.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-w--6drsmcGY/XdiTTotb33I/AAAAAAAAXuo/Jk1Z6tlNe3Ixid0l1-6Ge-V6U6tcLhMXgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_3640.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-w--6drsmcGY/XdiTTotb33I/AAAAAAAAXuo/Jk1Z6tlNe3Ixid0l1-6Ge-V6U6tcLhMXgCLcBGAsYHQ/s400/IMG_3640.JPG" width="400" /></a>The next morning we were back on the ferry. As it approached the bow section lifted up, a common feature of ferries we've seen on the Baltic. Inside the suspended second level was in place, here only a narrow one to one side.<br />
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Leaving Aerø we passed by the spit with all those colorful shacks. Our ferry's destination was Svendborg, with its scenic harbor, but we had already spent three nights here and from the ferry we circled back to the bridge we had just passed under on the ferry, and rode across to our fourth island, <span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: sans-serif;">Tåsinge. Once again you can see that Denmark is <i>not</i> flat, but our route took us along the shore so we did not have to cycle up that hill in the distance. By the way, just over that hill is a church with the graves of Elvira Madigan and her tragic lover, Sixten Sparre. But we haven't seen the film, so weren't inspired enough to go see it.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: sans-serif;">Instead, we followed our guidebook's suggestion to explore the town of Troense, and in particular a street called Badstuen. Good call. Here are some handsome thatched homes, another one in the process of being rethatched, and a more modern home with an impressive garden.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: sans-serif;"> On the edge of town is Valdemar's Castle (<i>Valdemars Slot</i>), built by King Christian IV for his son Valdemar. Unfortunately, Valdemar died in battle in Poland, and never saw his new digs. A later king eventually gifted it to a naval hero, and the 11th generation of that family still lives there, though parts of the castle and grounds are open for public tours, which we skipped. Besides the main house and what appear to be stables and a seaside guest house perhaps, there is an impressive gatehouse that the bicycle route passes right through.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: sans-serif;">After only 15 km of riding, we were already on the far side of </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: sans-serif;">Tåsinge and onto another bridge to our fifth large island, Langeland. As the name implies, it's long and narrow, roughly 50 x 10 km. We stopped briefly in the island's largest settlement, the small city of Rudek</span>øbing, and took one photo on a street our guidebook thought was worth seeing, then dropped in at the tourist office to get a map of the island to supplement our bike map. Then it was off to yet another castle, <i>Tranekaer Slot</i>. <br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3L1BqAq6qJg/XdoFXDwA-wI/AAAAAAAAXw4/1AhXpJnYNro3kx2ymAY8XwVpAnwRJQQDwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_3687.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1067" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3L1BqAq6qJg/XdoFXDwA-wI/AAAAAAAAXw4/1AhXpJnYNro3kx2ymAY8XwVpAnwRJQQDwCLcBGAsYHQ/s400/IMG_3687.JPG" width="265" /></a>We didn't sleep at the castle but rather in an apartment a km. away, where we cooked our own dinner with groceries picked up an hour earlier -- the closest source. But breakfast was provided as part of the deal. and it was served in the castle's former stables! We had the stall previously reserved for the horse named <i>Munne.</i> Hey, it was a good meal.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kORZey6i29g/XdoFZZsefiI/AAAAAAAAXw8/uyvinFaqZmsbwQr18UUGOhGr5ytEXnXuwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_3689.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1201" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kORZey6i29g/XdoFZZsefiI/AAAAAAAAXw8/uyvinFaqZmsbwQr18UUGOhGr5ytEXnXuwCLcBGAsYHQ/s640/IMG_3689.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kvjnbbkAIBA/XdoNdEaSrUI/AAAAAAAAXxU/KMVtHnoOyncBVLK_GXI1TwYDq436QifqACLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_3694.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kvjnbbkAIBA/XdoNdEaSrUI/AAAAAAAAXxU/KMVtHnoOyncBVLK_GXI1TwYDq436QifqACLcBGAsYHQ/s640/IMG_3694.JPG" width="480" /></a>Behind the castle is an unusual garden called TICKON, the Tranekaer International Center for Art (<i>Kunst</i>) and Nature. It consists currently of 20 installations that are a "gift to nature," as the guide puts it. They must be made with natural materials and left to change as nature alters them over time. Here are four: "Organic Highway" to the right, then "Between the Copper Beech and the Oak," "Moss Tumulus" and "Diamond Mines" (the low walls roughly define diamond shapes).<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-10G-NIZmMBY/XdoQRbQaEJI/AAAAAAAAXxw/gbGCbjdrPMYjmR_WgDjGCvCp4eLei3UMACLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_3700.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-10G-NIZmMBY/XdoQRbQaEJI/AAAAAAAAXxw/gbGCbjdrPMYjmR_WgDjGCvCp4eLei3UMACLcBGAsYHQ/s400/IMG_3700.JPG" width="300" /></a>We were staying a second night in the same apartment so were able to do another ride without our panniers, but between strong winds, some fairly rolling terrain and a few unpaved portions of road that didn't thrill us, we cut the ride a little short after reaching a nice cafe for lunch and a small grocery store for dinner supplies. Having had a bad fall in May when the tandem hit a patch of spilled transmission fluid in Seattle, we are jittery about any road surface that looks like it could cause us to lose traction, and we're finding more dirt roads in Denmark than we expected.<br />
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Finally our last island for today's blog entry, Lolland, after an hour-long ferry ride from Langeland. The unpaved road in the first photo proved firm, and fairly soon we were on solid asphalt. Incidentally, good pheasant country, this.<br />
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Because Lolland is quite rural, it was hard to find lodgings. At last through Airbnb we found a bed and breakfast in an old farm on the edge of a nature preserve, and a grocery store not too far off our route where we could find supplies for a cold dinner salad. That's our go-to solution whenever our lodgings don't have a stove and there's no restaurant in walking distance. Our hosts were charming, and in the morning they showed us the editorial cartoon from their morning paper. Trump had just said he wanted to buy Greenland from Denmark, even though it's not for sale, an idea the Danish Prime Minister had called "Absurd." Trump's reaction was of course to label her a "nasty woman" (<i>vaemmelige Dame</i>). The cartoon pretty well sums up the view of Trump from every Dane we spoke to for the rest of our time there.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Zptz36O8P5c/XdoeEdr9ktI/AAAAAAAAXzA/nUcv8r0VPysRMhsYFN56j3KTD9dRdzXnACLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_3718.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Zptz36O8P5c/XdoeEdr9ktI/AAAAAAAAXzA/nUcv8r0VPysRMhsYFN56j3KTD9dRdzXnACLcBGAsYHQ/s640/IMG_3718.JPG" width="480" /></a>Our final destination on Lolland was the small city of Sundby and its Medieval Center (<i>Middelaldercentret</i>). On the way there we passed yet another castle, though these days it calls itself simply the Krenkerup Estate. Alas we did not know it at the time, but it is now a brewery! The same family has owned the estate since 1367, but the brew pub it's now known for seems to be a recent addition. We didn't time-travel quite as far at the Medieval Center, where we were transported "only" back to the year 1402. <br />
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Some of the pleasure was simply walking about, admiring the work that was done to create a believable medieval village, and the work still done each day to bring it to life.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LldZ2MJMH5s/XdscUAJzyTI/AAAAAAAAX0k/kQucdRzrSyM8bVF1VsTXmbhgUwLIq7CzwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_3746.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1067" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LldZ2MJMH5s/XdscUAJzyTI/AAAAAAAAX0k/kQucdRzrSyM8bVF1VsTXmbhgUwLIq7CzwCLcBGAsYHQ/s400/IMG_3746.JPG" width="266" /></a>We arrived just a little too late for the trebuchet demonstration, a type of catapult used before gunpowder came to Europe. It was capable of hurling moderately heavy rocks 100 m / 100 yds. or more, or of tossing burning material over the walls of a fortified town in the hope of catching the thatched roofs on fire. We did catch the archery demonstration, however, and watched several youngsters get rudimentary training on how to use a bow and arrow. Nearby in what they called their medieval 'Technology Park,' there were examples of an easily constructed bridge designed by Galileo, and of a scouting tower that could be raised up by cranking that wheel, both created for military use.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-i72TCJHGvs8/XdsfzH-2QQI/AAAAAAAAX1M/PkHO9M18ANcTNXsgDGhsOmmdUslN9thpACLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_3744%2B%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1594" data-original-width="1600" height="318" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-i72TCJHGvs8/XdsfzH-2QQI/AAAAAAAAX1M/PkHO9M18ANcTNXsgDGhsOmmdUslN9thpACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/IMG_3744%2B%25282%2529.JPG" width="320" /></a><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZgspZRouZ9Q/XdsfwTM9qbI/AAAAAAAAX1I/_G1uizP-RuA9ZMJTDw9PsDDzvwPV5AIYACLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_3740%2B%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1201" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZgspZRouZ9Q/XdsfwTM9qbI/AAAAAAAAX1I/_G1uizP-RuA9ZMJTDw9PsDDzvwPV5AIYACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/IMG_3740%2B%25282%2529.JPG" width="240" /></a>By far, the liveliest part of the visit was the daily joust. Much of it was a competition between our two knights at skills such as catching small rings on their lances as their horses galloped full tilt down the dirt track of our stadium. The climax was when the two knights ran at each other at full speed, the aim being to hit the opponent's shield in a way that the lance would shatter. As in a so-called professional wrestling match, there appeared to be great mayhem but both participants emerged unscathed.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-T4YmLRyZcYs/XdsirVXgZgI/AAAAAAAAX10/vxmpslyJ8awFGDZtgpOGZIJxOWB4UIvlgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_3770.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-T4YmLRyZcYs/XdsirVXgZgI/AAAAAAAAX10/vxmpslyJ8awFGDZtgpOGZIJxOWB4UIvlgCLcBGAsYHQ/s640/IMG_3770.JPG" width="480" /></a>After all this exposure to the Middle Ages, Jeff thought he ought to see how a jousting helmet works as a substitute for his bike helmet. The answer is, not well.<br />
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On our walk back to our hotel we looked across the water at the city of Ny<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: sans-serif;">k</span>øbing on Falster Island. That's where we'll head to in our next blog entry.<br />
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<br />Jeff & Louise Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08667329438445463926noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4009287700201166763.post-55441829587997379522019-08-13T08:40:00.000-07:002019-08-13T08:40:29.261-07:00Cycling from Central Germany to Denmark<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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In our first two blog entries this summer we t<span style="font-family: inherit;">ook you</span> about 1200 km from Nuremberg to<span style="font-family: inherit;"> <span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">Göttingen, following the Regnitz, Main, Rhine, Lahn and Eder Rivers (and skipping a short section of the Fulda, which we rode last summer). We had a two-day home-stay visit in </span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">Göttingen</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: inherit;"> with friends Rainer and Brigitte, whom we have managed to get together with every summer since meeting them in 2015. Having seen many of the highlights of their home town and region on prior visits, this time we simply relaxed with them, got a few chores done, and as always enjoyed some rare home cooking courtesy of Brigitte.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">Today we'll cover the next 700 km to Denmark, plus a quick visit by train to the Netherlands and back to do some riding with our Dutch friends Nico and Marga (more about that shortly). The first 350 km in Germany was along the Weser River, in orange on the map to the left. We did this section in the reverse direction just last summer and you're welcome to read (or re-read) our blog about it at </span></span><a href="http://redtandem.blogspot.com/2018/07/germany-part-3-tandeming-weser-from.html">http://redtandem.blogspot.com/2018/07/germany-part-3-tandeming-weser-from.html</a>. We did a pretty thorough examination of the region and its historical sights last time, so this time we mainly luxuriated in the quiet rusticity of the valley. And few things say "rustic" better than cows, so here are three cow photos. This first is one standing guard over one of the many ferries that cross the river, followed by a bovine group hug, apparently. The last one was a very determined cow who not only knows that the grass is greener on the other side, but is absolutely determined to do something about that!<br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">The Weser does not have much in the way of dramatic scenery. Perhaps the most scenic is the area near Bad Karlshafen. If you look closely behind the ship you can see the group of canoes seen also in the second photo when they got a bit closer, and on the left the bicycle route we came down.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">While we saw a dozen or more bike tourists every day, there were rarely large numbers of them. The long line of them in the first photo below was probably an organized tour group, the only one we saw so far as we know. But independent riders like us with their packed panniers as well as day riders were there pretty much wherever we went. Cycling is very popular in Germany, especially on its wonderful routes along rivers like this one.</span></span><br />
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Well, not everywhere.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XUy9-3_U4Fk/XU7Ry0v0SSI/AAAAAAAAXac/DXtcjhpHX-o2ZOX9ViL8uENo0u909jfEgCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_3138.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1349" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XUy9-3_U4Fk/XU7Ry0v0SSI/AAAAAAAAXac/DXtcjhpHX-o2ZOX9ViL8uENo0u909jfEgCLcBGAs/s320/IMG_3138.JPG" width="269" /></a>And that's a good thing, because sometimes certain amenities don't show up when and where you'd like them to, and you need to commune with some bushes or trees or hay bales without a steady stream of cyclists gliding by.<br />
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One thing we did differently this year was to pack bathing suits, specifically to try out some hot spring spas. We visited one on the Main early in the trip, and in Bad Oeynhausen we checked out the <i>Bali Therme</i>. We were reluctant to bring the camera into a wet environment and to worry about security, so we only have one photo, taken through the window from the cafe that abuts it, but perhaps it gives an idea of what both were like: extensive (this is only a small part of the pool complex), relatively shallow, tepid in temperature (most pools were around 32 C (89F), plus or minus a degree), salty and therefore bouyant, and OOOOH so relaxing!<br />
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When we first planned this trip, we were sorry to see that there was no time to include our beloved Netherlands in the plan. But our Dutch friends Nico and Marga asked us what was the closest we would get to their country. Well, we said, probably Minden on the Weser, and by the way there's a train from there that goes to Hengelo in the Netherlands. There were two more challenges: we have had an ambitious plan with not much slack, and the meeting would have to be on a weekend since Marga still works Mondays through Thursdays. But the stars all aligned, we found ourselves ahead of schedule, and we did indeed hop a train one Thursday for the 2 1/2 hour trip west while Nico and Marga drove east after work on a Thursday. We met up for three days of tandem biking and card games, using Nico's braille-marked deck of cards.<br />
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This was an area we had only seen once, briefly, and our friends not at all. Our Dutch hotel supplies visitors with a a choice of bike route maps, so each day we took off in a new direction. A few of the trails were not paved, but the rubber side of the bikes stayed down and we had some great rides in this untouristic part of Holland. We're so glad it worked out once again to see friends along the way, here as in <span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">Göttingen, </span>and to get a quick fix of Dutch culture while we were at it. So glad Nico and Marga made the time for us, as Rainer and Brigitte had a week earlier.<br />
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We also saw a relatively new type of bike trail for the Netherlands, a <i>Fietssnelweg</i>, or 'bicycle expressway.' The government is now building a number of these where it can find routes that are fairly direct, especially in more urban areas where commuters don't really want to wander about on the way to work. In that sense this route was not typical, but it follows a train line so has few cross streets and provides a very direct route into and out of Hengelo. If we spend more time next summer in the Netherlands, as we hope to, we will be looking for many more of these to explore.<br />
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By the way, our visit to the Netherlands coincided with a terrible heat wave. On the day we reached Hengelo it hit 40 degrees Celsius, 104 Fahrenheit, both in Hengelo and elsewhere in the country. It was a new national record, one the Dutch didn't really want, but hey, global warming is not a polite guest. We did have lodging in an air-conditioned hotel, but our 6 km ride from the train station to the hotel was a challenge, and the next two days were only a few degrees cooler. At least it was a very dry heat, not nearly as unbearable as some we remember from our childhoods on the East Coast of the US.<br />
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Back on the Weser we spent our next-to-last night in the town of Nienburg, a town on almost no one's tourism list, but charming nonetheless. The bike trail is right next to the Weser, and this lower section of the river has a fair bit of boat traffic. Here you can see upstream and downstream barges getting ready to pass each other, and a pair of cabin cruisers are also right around the corner.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-okNFIY85z7U/XU8PmHVTaOI/AAAAAAAAXbc/vgzPDb0lHNAfcpAqstcTOJXJ-rmt2ykWACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_3310.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-okNFIY85z7U/XU8PmHVTaOI/AAAAAAAAXbc/vgzPDb0lHNAfcpAqstcTOJXJ-rmt2ykWACLcBGAs/s640/IMG_3310.JPG" width="480" /></a>The town is home to the National Asparagus Museum, a sight we just didn't work into our plans, but we did pass the charming Asparagus Statue at one end of town, and some nice <i>Fachwerk</i> (half-timbered) buildings in the center of town, right around the corner from the main shopping and dining street. Like so many towns in Germany now, cars are shunted away from the blocks in the center of town to make way for outdoor dining and relaxed, safe shopping.<br />
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Up to this point, our ride has consistently followed rivers and bike routes devoted to those waterways. We now set out on a new adventure, following roads across the landscape between the Weser and Elbe Rivers. It was easier and more attractive than we ever expected.<br />
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We were following a highway, though as it turned out not a particularly busy one. Leaving town we were on wide sidewalks marked in reddish bricks for bikes and grey bricks for pedestrians. In a few short sections after we were out of the town proper there wasn't enough room for a bike path separate from the road, so a protected bike path was created. A few short stretches also had sections of path that were a bit bumpy from tree roots or frost damage, but we were well warned of "bikepath defects." All that said, 95 % of the two days we spent on paths like this were on paths separated by a meter or two from the traffic, then intermittently by up to ten meters as the path gently swung away from the road for a while. ALL of the paths that were not marked with those warning signs were smooth asphalt.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rl7a6jCLnso/XU8aVpZeFBI/AAAAAAAAXco/l-Sqw_8pOioUqnwVclW5fdXRerWSKR_ggCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_3328.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rl7a6jCLnso/XU8aVpZeFBI/AAAAAAAAXco/l-Sqw_8pOioUqnwVclW5fdXRerWSKR_ggCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_3328.JPG" width="298" /></a>In two days of riding we reached Stade, a Hanseatic city connected to the Elbe River by river and canal. Like all Hanseatic cities, it became wealthy from trade, and from that wealth also turned into a charming place to visit.</div>
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We had now done the section of our trip marked in gray on the map far above, and at Stade began the last leg of our journey to Denmark along the North Sea, marked in purple on the map. We crossed one last river coming into the Elbe from the west at low tide, then passed a building next to the river with a large collection of swallow nests. The babies would wait and wait, then mom or dad would show up for a second or two, hovering at the entrance just long enough to disgorge some tasty morsel in junior's beak, and off again. With considerable patience, we finally captured one of these fast food feats in action.</div>
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The Elbe at this point is really an enormous tidal estuary that our ferry took half an hour to cross. The tide was still so low that one of the navigation buoys was simply lying down on the mud.</div>
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We were now in the German state of Schleswig-Holstein, an area that has suffered much from storms coming in off the North Sea;. Within the past century it has built and rebuilt dikes to keep the sea at bay, and some areas of land today are polders, reclaimed land behind dikes that is kept dry by the more or less constant pumping out of water. Just as in Holland, some are actually below sea level. The consequence for us is that we were frequently following the sea shore with only rare glimpses of the sea when our route happened to climb to the top of a dike. Mostly, like these seaside houses, there was no sea to see.</div>
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And when we <i>did</i> get to the top of the dike, sometimes there was nothing out there but mud!<br />
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And what can you do with these vast mudflats? Why, go <i>Wattlaufen</i>, "mudflat walking." While on top of a dike in <span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">Brunsbüttel</span> </span>we spotted some <i>Wattlaufer</i> who appeared to practicing a new sport, <i>Wattschwimmen.</i> Gosh, what fun!</div>
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One night we stayed in a hotel that peeked over the dike and we got rewarded with a view of a cruise ship shimmering in the dusk, as it glided down the Elbe from Hamburg to the North Sea. Did anyone on that massive ship see us as we looked out at them?</div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">At <span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">Brunsbüttel </span>we boarded yet another ferry for a short ride across the Kiel Canal, the busiest artificial waterway in the world. It was certainly busy while we were there. It's built at sea level, but has locks to keep water from rushing one way or the other through the canal as the tide rises and falls at different times at each end, since the west portal is on the North Sea and the east one on the Baltic. There are four lock chambers at each entrance, two older and smaller ones, two larger. A fifth one is now in the works, larger still. In the second photo, a ship that locked through earlier is headed toward the Baltic. In the third photo, the red and grey-hulled boats are waiting to exit to the North Sea in the first large lock, and the white ship is heading east to the Baltic in the adjacent large lock.</span></div>
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There is not a lot of "civilization" along the way, once you cross the Kiel Canal. Most often we were behind the dike, but occasionally on the water/mud side. As we have frequently encountered in the Netherlands and Germany along the North Sea, vegetation control is by sheep, and the dikes are divided in sections every kilometer or two by fences. Here, the sheep are mostly prevented by gates from using the bike route to escape. At least with the tandem, we automatically have one person to hold the gate while the other person pushes or pulls the bike through. But it <i>is </i>frustrating to keep breaking your rhythm of cycling every few minutes and dismounting. We were much happier <i>not</i> being along the water for that reason.</div>
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Our route also spent a bit of time away from the dikes, passing through farmland where sometimes the wind seemed to be the main crop. In another area we were quite obviously in a <i>polder</i>, a field that was underneath the North Sea until sometime in the last 2 or 3 centuries when a dike went up and the land was drained.</div>
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Our route was designed to keep us on low-traffic roads so we rarely went through the few small towns that were hiding nearby, though we did skirt a few and stopped in one to photograph this wonderful thatched home.<br />
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On one day we rode 60 km with only one inhabited place along the way, a small city that is largely a seaside resort community now, to reach the biggest coastal draw in this region, Sankt Peter-Ording. This was a bustling place filled with tourists, but calling it a seaside resort is generous since it is set well back from the North Sea. We found a hotel in the very heart of town and walked two blocks to the start of the boardwalk that goes out to the sea. Ten minutes later we looked back some 650 m (1/2 mile). We're still crossing the salt marsh. In the next photo looking forward, we still have a ways to go across the marsh before we cross the natural sand dunes. The third photo was taken from the end of the boardwalk, 1.6 km / 1 mile from where it left town. And we're now just at the <i>back end</i> of the wide beach, which you can then see in the fourth photo. So much for "seaside." It's a 2-kilometer hike to even wet your toes.</div>
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Those wicker seats, called "beach baskets" in German, are a common feature in German beach towns on the North Sea, thanks to their frequent windy conditions. We had supper in a beach restaurant on stilts (from which we took that photo), and got to experience one inside the restaurant.</div>
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There is an odd custom in Germany that we have often seen but overlooked so far in our blog, but St. Peter had accommodated it in a fashion than suggested this would be a good place to document it. Stores will engrave the name of a couple on a lock, and the couple then finds some public place, usually a bridge, where they attach the lock and throw away the key, symbolizing their permanent attachment. The photo to the right is a typical one, engraved "always me, always you, always us." The one below is a very cute variant, with a date in 2013 that is no doubt a wedding date, and two additions over the intervening years. Unfortunately, these locks are also now permanently attached to something, and in the case of bridges, that has become a problem. Some cities have had to cut out large sections of railing because all those locks were making the bridge too heavy! Crowding might become an issue here, but not weight.<br />
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At the end of the next day's 52 km, none of it in towns or cities, we reached the port city of Husum. It still has some active port businesses a bit closer to the North Sea, which is only 3 km away, but the historic port is now entirely touristic. And quaint. </div>
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We decided to spend two nights, partly to rest, partly to avoid some predicted rain (that amounted to almost nothing, in fact), and mainly to plan. But, having stopped, we checked out the town, including an old farm building moved here as a museum; a store that was probably a warehouse when it went up in the 1600s; the city's fanciful water tower; the manor house of a local nobleman; and of course the harbor.</div>
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Wind has not been a big issue for us, until now. We've had a mix of tail winds and head winds and side winds, none strong enough to affect our progress to any great extent. For the past few days, in fact, we've had strong partial tailwinds out of the SW, pushing us up toward Denmark. But each day they've gotten stronger and stronger, and are now peaking at 20 miles per hour (9 meters per second). They're also shifting to W or WSW, and the route we have planned on taking heads north and a little west from Husum. It also is in remote parts of the coast, where little or no vegetation is going to slow it down. And then there are the predictions that gusts could double those numbers. Ooooh. What to do? Twenty years ago we were literally knocked off our tandem by a sudden gust from the side, and we have no desire to repeat the experience.</div>
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So we changed our plans. Instead of going due north for the next three days, we are going to go NE, with SW and WSW winds predicted for the next several days. We can't do this for too long or we'll be in Copenhagen two weeks too soon, but for safety's sake we're going to not fight the winds for right now and hope things moderate in the coming week.</div>
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And so our final day in Germany came sooner than we expected. We rode another one of those wonderful paths alongside a highway that went almost arrow-straight from Husum on the North Sea to Flensburg on the Baltic, with a steady tailwind and, as it turned out, no scary gusts of wind. The town was charming, with a number of courtyards running off the main pedestrian street, reminiscent of ones we saw last September in Edinburgh. Unlike Edinburgh, many of them had shops, cafes and restaurants.</div>
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The next morning we biked down to the harbor. It's still slowly sinking in, we're now on the Baltic. Our bike route followed the water around a bend and there was our first glimpse of Denmark, with a thick forest preserve along the shore. 5 km from our hotel we came to a small bridge. For hundreds of years, this is where you had to pull out your passport. Since the Schengen Zone phased out most border control in 2001, we just walked our bike across. We are now in Denmark!</div>
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We are now also roughly at the latitude of Ketchikan, Alaska. We'll have much to say about Denmark and life in this northern place where the sun is still setting after 9 pm in August in our next blog. </div>
Jeff & Louise Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08667329438445463926noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4009287700201166763.post-75877897662462821522019-07-18T08:38:00.000-07:002019-07-18T08:38:09.055-07:00Biking the Rhine, Lahn and Eder<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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We started this year's trip by biking down the Main River and several of its tributaries until we hit the Rhine. Today we will take you a short way along the Rhine to the Lahn and head upstream. At the top of the valley we'll cross to the Eder River and head downstream. On the map, the Rhine is in pale green, the Lahn in dark green and the Eder in blue.</div>
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When people get excited about the scenery along the Rhine, they almost always are focusing on this short stretch of about 70 km between Bingen and Koblenz. It is chock-a-block full of steep hillsides either deeply forested or coated with vineyards, and amply adorned with all sizes and shapes of castles. The river itself is alive with boat traffic, much of it commercial but well-leavened with tour boats, both long-distance ones like the Viking boat in the first photo below, or day trip packets like the steamer in the second photo. We've thrown in a few other photos of this gorgeous place for good measure. </div>
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Shortly before entering this magical world we biked past Schloss Biebrich, the ancestral home of the dukes of Nassau and perhaps the most elegant palace on the entire river.</div>
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We learned a trick four years earlier, when we biked this same section of the Rhine. There is a LOT of traffic along the Rhine. Not only all those boats, but also large numbers of trains, trucks and cars. There are tracks on both sides of the river, with 2-4 trains per hour on the east bank and easily twice that on the busier west side of the river. So to get a good night's rest, we found a place that was 350 meters up a side valley from the town of Bacharach. Yeah, it was a steep enough climb that we had to push the bike up that hill on the way to it and keep the brakes on all the way back down the next morning, but we had a <i>totally</i> quiet evening, and got some nice scenery on the way to our lodgings and also looking out the window in the morning.</div>
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The valley, as we noted, is quite narrow and steep in places, and the trains go through many tunnels. The tunnel entrances are invariably decorated with castle-like portals. As tourists from America started pouring into this area in the '50s and '60s, many speculated that the Germans had done this so that American bombers wouldn't attack them, thinking they were castles. Nice theory, but <i>no</i>, that's not the reason. The tunnel entrances have looked like this since they were built, both to fit in with their castellated neighbors and to enhance the tourist charm for 19th century train travelers.</div>
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This was actually our third time coming along this stretch of the Rhine. The first one was in 2015 when we were biking from the Main River valley down the Rhine to Koblenz to then head west up the Moselle, and the second visit in 2017 was by boat and train when Jeff was recuperating from a badly sprained ankle. As the ankle got better we hobbled one day from a boat that runs up and down the river to a chair lift that brought us to a spectacular view of the Rhine. As we passed it this time from the opposite shore, we put the camera on maximum telephoto and watched a few of this year's tourists both walking and riding the chair lift up to see that view for themselves.</div>
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At last we reached Lahnstein at the mouth of the Lahn River. Castle Lahneck still towers above the river here, but one has to use some imagination and rub out the 20th century buildings in the town below to capture its charm.</div>
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We turned up the Lahn a dozen km to Bad Ems, following a narrower than usual trail past numerous boat locks. The only boats we saw moving, however, were countless canoes and kayaks, always heading downstream. This continued on subsequent days for the entire lower 100 km of the river that are fitted with dams and locks. We'll say more about those locks in a bit.</div>
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Bad Ems is a charming spa town with an enormous historical spa complex and one or two more modern ones nearby. A telegram sent from the spa by Kaiser Wilhelm to Chancellor Otto von Bismark in 1870 became known as the "Ems Telegram," and when it was leaked to the press it led France to declare war on Prussia, a war the French quickly lost, with severe consequences for all of Europe. As for the mineral waters here, there were two very odd things we passed by. One was a tall glass beaker with a tap you could open to taste the slightly brown water. We were dissuaded to do so when Jeff noted that the temperature was 46 C (115 degrees F). Nearby was a fountain spouting water. The sign next to this one stated that it was usually about 55 C, as if the steam coming from it wasn't warning enough. Quite a place!</div>
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The next day posed a challenge. In the middle of the day's ride was a hill that jutted up sharply 200 m, over 600 feet. Not only that, but there was no bike trail, only a shoulderless and moderately busy road. Our bike book had the perfect solution: bypass it by taking the train from the stop before the hill to the first stop after it. Jeff checked out the logistics in the Spring and saw that there were trains all day long, so no problem, right? <i>Wrong!</i> A few weeks earlier they suspended all trains for the summer and replaced them with buses while they tie in a new tunnel. Oops, those buses aren't equipped to take any bikes, let along a long tandem..</div>
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At least we discovered this before heading further up the Lahn. After breakfast we instead headed back down the river to Lahnstein and caught a train to Frankfurt and then a second train on to the town we wanted to reach, Limburg. So we moved 50 km up the Lahn by taking the train 180 km, two thirds of that right along parts of the Rhine and Main Rivers we had just spent a few days biking along. Well, all part of the adventure, plus we got to see the Rhine River yet again, this time from the east shore. <br />
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Limburg was a charming town, full of splendid half-timbered buildings, called <i>Fachwerk</i> in German, and with lively crowds of shoppers and restaurant patrons. </div>
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One building illustrated the challenge of keeping these structures looking so good. One side of the building had been renovated, and the adjacent side is still waiting.</div>
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This is quite an old city. The next photo was taken from the stone bridge that was put up exactly 700 years ago, when the cathedral you see up on the hill was already 40 years old.</div>
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Our ride the next day took us past this attractive parish church dedicated to Saint Lubentius, a saint neither of us has ever heard of, and on to yet another ancient stone bridge, this one dating to 1448. Looking down on the bridge is Schloss Runkel, after which the town is named. It was there during the reign of the emperor Barbarossa, in the mid-1100s. Quietly, off to the side, was yet another one of those boat locks.</div>
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In Weilburg, our destination that day, we finally got up close and personal with the boat locks, for here was an extraordinary one. To avoid a large bend in the river, a tunnel was bored under the city with a pair of locks at the downstream end to raise or lower boats. A couple were coming through with their canoe, the woman handling the boat, the man working the do-it-yourself locks. </div>
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At the time we arrived they had already come through the tunnel under the city, opened the upper gates, and entered the upper lock chamber. Next, the guy had to crank open doors within the lock gates to let the water out. Next he leaned hard into the gate arm, and his partner finally was able to paddle out directly into the lower lock chamber. Note from the water mark on the wall that she's come down 2 or 3 meters.</div>
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Of course this all had to be done now a second time, so Jeff jumped in and helped crank open the windows in the lower gate to help get them on their way.</div>
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Our hotel was close by, and that evening we walked up to Schloss Weilburg, which is almost directly above that amazing river tunnel. The Schloss was closed for the day but the former ducal gardens are open now as a public park. Unusual as well as scenic.</div>
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We captured this charming view of the university city of Marburg while biking into town, but unfortunately never got to do any further sightseeing despite two nights there. The next day it rained much of the day, lightly but enough to discourage exploration, and in any event we had two important duties to attend to: much needed haircuts, and much desired work on this blog. Yes, folks, this is where the <i>last</i> episode of the blog was largely created, sitting by the window looking out at the rain and listening to music from our iPad as the blog took form.</div>
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The next day promised rain again, but this time just in the afternoon, but in the form of thunderstorms. We got up earlier than usual, tarried much less over breakfast than we normally do, and were out the door at 9 (sorry, all you working folks out there who have already commuted to work to be there at 9 or earlier, but one's timing <i>really </i>changes when you become retired folks like us). In any event, we were 38 km down the road and up at our hotel before the church bells chimed 12. At 2 o'clock, pretty much when promised, the skies opened up with hail and then thunder and lightning on a Wagnerian scale. Dinner was just down the hall from our room, at the other end of the hotel, and the electricity never went out, so we got to enjoy a light and sound show courtesy of nature. The next morning there was still a little mist in the air as we looked out at Schloss Biedenkopf (the castle tower on the adjacent hill) and at the city of the same name down below it.</div>
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As you can see from those last pictures, we are now in an area of something between large hills and low mountains. We have climbed from an elevation of about 65 m at Lahnstein to almost 300 m here, without any real sense of having gone uphill. As we made plans the night before, during that thunderstorm, the forecast was for showers in the afternoon. We checked again when we woke up, and the showers were slightly later, but still in the forecast. So we made a plan to go 20 km to a nice hotel that would at least get us up to 400 m elevation and closer to a destination on the other side of the high point. But near the end of breakfast one last check of the computer showed the forecast moving the rain to 5 pm. OK, let's go for the full climb to the top, only 12 km further but 200 m higher. Good call!</div>
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All of our other trips in Germany have largely been ridden in valley floors of larger, more level rivers. This was our first time climbing in a hilly region. The landscape was beautiful. At a little over 400 m we went past a stunning Relais & Chaateaux hotel that appeared to be an old hunting lodge, and poked our heads inside for a view. We had thought about staying here at one point, but the room prices of 2 to 3 times our daily average quickly changed our minds. One certainly does get charm at that price, though.</div>
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That was a real wood fire in the fireplace, for it was about 61 F / 16 C and we had almost every piece of warm clothing on. A kilometer past the lodge the asphalt road turned into an unpaved one. OK, only 3 km more. We were still pedaling, on a grade of about 4%, when we stopped to take two photos of the Lahn River, which one could now step over.</div>
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With just over a kilometer to go, the "fun" really started. The road suddenly went to a gradient of 8-10%, and the road surface went from tolerable to unrideable, even if we <i>could</i> manage a slope like that. There was a time when we might have, but that train left the station a few years ago. Louise took over the camera for a few "action" shots. Very slow motion action, actually.</div>
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At an elevation of 620 m, just over 2000 feet, we had reached the <i>Lahnquelle,</i> the source of the 250 km-long river we have been following for 6 1/2 days. It's a tiny pond, and right next to it is the <i>Forsthaus Lahnquelle</i>, the Forest Hotel Lahnquelle. In fact one of those windows is our room for the night. It was one of the quietest, most magical nights we've had yet, knowing that it will be "all downhill from here." Well, not quite, but there will be no more elevations like this in the kilometers to come. And those rain showers never did show up.</div>
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It was now time to descend to the Eder River, which we will follow for about 160 of its 175 km, or just over 100 miles. But first we had to ride 6 km up and down gentle grades as we followed the crest of the hills that spawn 4 named rivers. There were no stunning viewpoints as the ridge is gently rounded and heavily forested. At last we reached a brook that flows into the Eder River and followed it downhill for 9 km. We reached the Eder in the town of Erndtebrueck as a <i>Schutzfest</i> (Shooting Festival) was starting. Of course, it starts with some beer drinking and a concert provided by the <i>Musikverein,</i> or Music Club, dressed in their nice grey uniforms, with an audience composed of <i>Schutzverein</i> (Shooting Club) members in forest green and other folks in uniforms of other colors, along with "just folks" like us. A parade was scheduled to start in 15 minutes, but we did not stay as we still had 30 km to ride.</div>
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The first 15 km turned out to be hard. It started out with decent pavement, but that soon morphed to rougher pavement and soon after to a dirt road. </div>
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It also went from open meadows to forest. That section, compared to other unpaved roads we've ridden in the past few weeks, was rougher and more up and down, as it is used, duh, for forestry and not agriculture. When it brought us to a paved section we heaved a sigh of relief. When the official route headed back to the forest and the map showed more up and down sections, we stayed on the road. It was slightly downhill with a slight tailwind, and we mostly rode at 24-30 kph / 15-18 mph). It's legal to do so in Germany, and drivers are used to slowing down and passing cyclists, tractors and the like. There was little traffic, and the few drivers who did come along were extremely polite and passed us very safely.</div>
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We spent that night sleeping in class. Well, perhaps. The hotel was <i>Die Alte Schule</i>, the Old Schoolhouse, but it consisted of three buildings as it has proved to be a very successful hotel, and we rather doubt our third-floor room was ever a schoolroom.</div>
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The next morning was once again quite cool, 12 C / 54 F, even though we had descended to 400 m. Louise was clad in her fullest panoply of cold-weather protection, including earmuffs under that hood and three more layers of clothing underneath the wind jacket. That's our hotel behind her, and our route started with a brisk descent (which we had pushed the bike up the afternoon before), past all these large homes clad in slate siding, as was our hotel.</div>
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Those of you who have read our last blog entry may recall that we were scorched for a few days just before we reached the Rhine, with temperatures in the 90s F (33-37 C) for several days. We looked at the weather forecast for the next ten days and didn't see any cold days coming, so we shipped 2 kg (4 lbs.) of things ahead to our friends in Goettingen, to avoid carrying them over those hills on the Lahn and Eder. Half of that weight was clothing for cold weather. Well . . . we've now had 4 days when it was 59 F / 15 C or colder when we started biking. We learned two things. One, it CAN INDEED get cold in the summer in Germany, and Two, we can survive with less. At least until we encounter an even colder weather spell, since there were two mornings when we used every item available.<br />
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Our second day on the Eder was fantastic. The route was a combination of quiet side roads and unpaved sections of trail that were obviously once part of a railroad line, so very flat. There are small villages every few kilometers but the overwhelming feeling one has is of being surrounded by greenery. The Eder was never very far away, and every now and then made an appearance.<br />
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The old railroad that was no more once took a shortcut through a tunnel near the city of Reddighausen. From November through March it is closed to bicycles so that migratory bats can use it for the winter. The bats were gone when we arrived, and it was an exciting part of our journey.<br />
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Forty kilometers after seeing that wonderful "light at the end of the tunnel," we reached the Edersee, the reservoir lake that stretches 12 km behind the Eder Dam. It's the third-largest reservoir in Germany. It was a little low since it is now mid-summer. The dam was built from 1908 to 1914, and in particularly dry summers, we read, the lake can get so low that the remains of a bridge and of three villages that were drowned by the lake sometime poke out of the water, but not for us. The route was again a combination of quiet roads that did not go through, and therefore had no car traffic to speak of, and car-free unpaved sections that were smooth and gently rolling. These roads were carved out of the hillside, and at times there was an extremely steep drop-off of 20 or 30 meters to the lake below.<br />
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Midway along the lake we saw a tandem going the other way. We <i>always </i>stop for tandems! In Europe, their owners are almost always Dutch, and indeed Ton and Monique were from the Province of Noord Brabant in the Netherlands. We chatted for an hour, comparing experiences and sharing advice on the route ahead for each of us. Needless to say, we advised them to avoid those forest roads further up the Eder. As you can see from all the gear they are hauling, they are camping, not like us "credit card tourists" whose camping equipment is a little piece of plastic.<br />
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Even more interesting people appeared, children running around in the trees. We watched them for twenty minutes as they proceeded from platform to platform with varying degrees of grace and elan, or in some cases of clumsiness and chaos. But they were all careful to attach their safety harnesses at each turn of the route.<br />
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Shortly before reaching the dam we could see the city of Waldeck across the lake, and Schloss Waldeck high above it.<br />
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It's an impressively large dam, 157 feet (48 m) high, with a maximum water depth of 137 feet (42 m). Its main function is electric power generation, but it also is used to even out the flow of the Weser River, into which the Eder eventually flows. Outside Germany it is well known as one of the two dams that British airmen destroyed in WW II using bombs that skipped over the water. A 1955 movie and a recent episode of Nova on PBS television in the US have told the story of these "dam-busters." <br />
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We were at the eastern end of the Eder, but just beyond the dam we were suddenly in the West, as in the American "Wild West." Our hotel for the night was a "Western-style Motel" with an amusing decor. And for dinner one of us had a hamburger and the other a pulled pork sandwich with BBQ sauce. Go figure.<br />
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We biked 40 of the final 55 km of the Eder, along flat routes in the broad valley. On one of them we encountered a most unusual vehicle going the other way, filled with kids. The river was nearby but the only great views of the river we had were when we crossed it on bridges, as we did a few times.<br />
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Our final 15 km were on bike paths we cycled last year when we came a short way up the Fulda and Eder Rivers to visit the wonderful city of Fritzlar. In part because we had done this stretch before, in part because we wanted to avoid cycling through the busy city of Kassel, and in large part because we wanted to get to Goetttingen to visit our friends Rainer and Brigitte at their home there, we hopped on a train 15 km before the very end of the Eder and headed over to see them, 90 minutes on local trains that are very tandem-friendly. We'll pick up the narrative next time as we depart Goettingen for roughly ten days of cycling northward on the the Weser River.<br />
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Jeff & Louise Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08667329438445463926noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4009287700201166763.post-42013942533870371922019-07-04T12:13:00.001-07:002019-07-04T12:13:53.611-07:00Back to Europe, Starting with a More Thorough Exploration of the Main River Valley<br />
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Welcome to our 2019 travels. This year we are cycling from Nuremberg in south-central Germany to Copenhagen in Denmark. Our German travels are outlined in the map to the right. Except for the section in gray, our entire route is following rivers to the North Sea, then along that body of water to the Danish border. When we make it up to that point, we'll give you another map.<br />
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The German part of our trip is a combination of revisits to some favorite rivers, combined with new ones we've been wanting to explore. Today's blog will focus on the Main (rhymes with "fine") River valley, shown in red on the map. We previously cycled 275 miles along it in 2015, and this time are adding 150 miles that we skipped on that first trip. Half that has been on tributaries and half on the upper section, above Bamberg (where the brown and red lines meet on the map).<br />
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Our starting point of Nuremberg was chosen because it is the starting point of a bicycle route down one of the larger tributaries of the Main, the Regnitz River. But it is also a city with a past. It's a glorious past that was sullied by its association with Nazism, thanks to a particularly pro-Nazi newspaper in town which helped lead to its selection as the location for some of Hitler's most famous rallies. We'll take you to that site in a bit, but the town is more than that. Here's a view of the Marketplace in 1594, and what the church on the right side and the tower in the back left corner of the square look like today.<br />
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Nearby is the home of Albrecht Durer, one of Germany's most famous painters, who lived here over 400 years ago. Nearby buildings have corner statues that further recall Nuremberg's glory days. Today, the square next to Durer's home is where folks congregate to socialize and soak up some sun.</div>
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The Pegnitz River flows peacefully through town and features some colorful ducks, and on an island in the middle of the river there is an annual "Sommer in der City" with sand trucked in and lots of drinks with paper parasols served alongside the ever-present beer mugs.</div>
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The Nazi Documentation Center does a terrific job of explaining why the Germans ended up with Hitler -- he came to power in a coalition, with only about 1/3 of the vote having been for the Nazis, but complacency about Hitler and his movement led to acceptance, even when what was accepted was an end of civil liberties for all and much worse for Hitler's political enemies and racial victims within Germany. As a free press disappeared, so too did any reasonable chance of choosing an alternate way out. The museum uses only a small part of Congress Hall, an ostentatious architectural pile vaguely resembling the Coliseum but at twice the scale, never completed and largely empty. Nearby is the so-called Zeppelin Field where massive rallies of up to 150,000 soldiers were held, surrounded by tens of thousands of onlookers. All of our readers have probably, sometime, seen a photo of Hitler haranguing the crowds from its rostrum. That's it in the fourth photo, with Louise and Little Red, our tandem, barely visible to the right of the rostrum. Today this is a sad place slowly being taken over by weeds.</div>
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At last it was time to take to the road. Our route took us to Erlangen, a university town where Louise's brother David studied and earned his Ph.D. in the 1970's. The main shopping street was probably not "pedestrianized" back then, since the wave of closing off areas like this to cars did not really get going in Germany until a decade or two later. We stopped and had a picnic lunch in a park that adjoins one of the oldest buildings of the university. It was a busy weekend in town, with a folk festival pulling in tens of thousands of participants each day. Here is one group of four, the half-liter beer bottle they were sharing discreetly out of sight at the moment the shutter snapped.</div>
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The plan was to continue the next day down the <i>Regnitzradweg</i>, the cycle route, but we woke up to showers with the radar looking quite ominous for the rest of the day. A train station less than 2 km away beckoned to us. We got down there in a very light mist, hesitated for a few moments, then plunked our money into the ticket machine and hopped on the train that came in 4 minutes. When we got off in Bamberg some 35 km later, it was the same very light mist. An hour later, it stopped. DANG, we could have continued biking and hardly gotten wet! We got into our room early at our hotel and rechecked the weather forecast. The rain was done for the day. So off we went to re-explore this city we spent a few days in 4 years ago. Wouldn't you know it -- as we left the cathedral, it was raining. And we had left our raincoats in our hotel room. Aaargh, danged weather forecasts! We sat in a pew quietly reading our Kindle devices for 20 minutes, until the rain let up a bit, and headed back at a fast walk.</div>
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Across the street is a wonderful park, the former gardens of the bishop. Looking southeast, that ominous cloud should have given us adequate warning of what was to come.<br />
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As it turned out, we did bike along 35 of the 70 km of the Regnitz bike route, and saw both the Regnitz coming over the falls in Bamberg, and the Main-Danube Canal which parallels it. </div>
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This is no run-of-the-mill canal. The first plans for it date to 1921, but serious construction didn't really get going until the late 20th century, with the final link completed in 1992. It climbs up and over Europe. Boats can come up from Amsterdam or Rotterdam via canals and the Rhine River to Mainz, where the Main joins the Rhine. Then the dams and locks begin -- 34 of them on the Main to Bamberg, raising boats up to 230 m above sea level. The 16 locks on the next section, the Main-Danube Canal, raise boats up to 406 m above sea level -- 1,332 feet, highest in the world -- then down to 338 m at the Danube. From there, boats can take the Danube to Vienna, Bratislava, Budapest, Bucharest, or all the way to the Black Sea. We'll take a closer look at some of the Main River locks a bit further along.</div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uNqay_4h0KQ/XRj9GLLQIUI/AAAAAAAAW8o/GefmhT_8-OYZ3Xt7SEYgnCjvvVN5LIsKACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2807.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uNqay_4h0KQ/XRj9GLLQIUI/AAAAAAAAW8o/GefmhT_8-OYZ3Xt7SEYgnCjvvVN5LIsKACLcBGAs/s400/IMG_2807.JPG" width="400" /></a>We next turned up the Main River a short ways to reach the Itz River, an itsy-bitsy little river that nonetheless has created a nice broad valley. A very smooth bike path carried us to Coburg 20 km up from the Main with such good engineering that we scarcely noticed we were going uphill. Our journey was enriched by meeting this local family out on a training ride with their 9-year-old daughter and 11-year-old son. Last year they rode the Brenner Pass to Italy, this year they're aiming for the St. Gothard Pass. Whew, they'll need bigger hills than around here to get ready for that one!</div>
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PBS -- America's Public Broadcasting Service -- is the main reason we headed to Coburg. For the past three winters we have been watching<i> Victoria</i> on our local PBS station, and come to greatly admire Prince Albert, and to know many of his relatives -- his brother Ernest and his uncle Leopold in particular. It's hard to go a few meters about Coburg without reminders of this remarkable family, the dynasty of Saxe-Coburg & Gotha. In the town square, for example, there's the statue of Albert. The building behind him was the administrative center for the duchy his father and then his brother Ernest were the rulers of.</div>
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We spent the next day in full Saxe-Coburg & Gotha immersion. First was the<i> Veste Coburg,</i> the ancestral castle. It sits high on the hill overlooking the city, and was remarkably large inside the high walls. We climbed up and down and up again and then down again, numerous times, exploring the maze of rooms and buildings. Here are a few shots of the castle itself and some of the views.</div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BLauxG1XXmg/XRkDNDsrJ0I/AAAAAAAAW-Q/Fa1A3B0yC4sO-srAMuwI4TXuPelGCxcHACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2777.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; clear: left; color: #0066cc; float: left; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1201" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BLauxG1XXmg/XRkDNDsrJ0I/AAAAAAAAW-Q/Fa1A3B0yC4sO-srAMuwI4TXuPelGCxcHACLcBGAs/s400/IMG_2777.JPG" width="400" /></a>Although the castle was no longer used as a ducal residence during Albert's lifetime, there were plenty of reminders of him, including the robe his mother wore for her coronation as Duchess, a painting of brother Ernest, a painting of Albert set in Scotland, and a mosaic of Albert.</div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LM2cXnMD9Zo/XRkFQrseQ2I/AAAAAAAAW-0/6poNZq0aVbsstLRZV5wJDT-6-VsHJqv-wCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2780.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LM2cXnMD9Zo/XRkFQrseQ2I/AAAAAAAAW-0/6poNZq0aVbsstLRZV5wJDT-6-VsHJqv-wCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_2780.JPG" width="480" /></a>There is one more person closely, in fact much more closely, associated with the Coburg fortress. Martin Luther. In 1530 the Elector of Saxony protected him here while the Catholic Church debated what to do about this Reformation Luther had started. For six months he spent all his time here, primarily reading and writing, including work on his translation of the Bible into German so that ordinary folks could see for themselves what it said. The castle has preserved the chapel, now called the "Luther Chapel," and commemorates Luther with a stained glass window and with portraits of Luther and of his wife, Katharina von Bora by Lucas Cranach the Elder. That's the organ loft on the far left, with the pulpit below it and a baptismal font in the nave of the chapel. The photo was taken from where the Elector of Saxony's private box was -- the rest of the congregation was in the nave, some 30 feet (10 m) below.</div>
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We took a bus up and down from the fortress to save our energy for what was yet to come (it was only 1 mile each way, but a 400-foot climb and descent). Next, we hopped on our bike and rode 8 km out of town to <i>Schloss Rosenau</i>. This was Albert's favorite place in Coburg, a country getaway used mainly in the summer. When Victoria came to Coburg on her several visits, this was her favorite spot as well, since it was more intimate and surrounded by nature. We can show you the side and front views of the place, but not the inside, alas. It was indeed a cozy little spot, though it does have a ballroom capable of hosting several dozen couples for the occasional special occasion. Since we were the only folks who showed up for the 3 pm tour, we lucked out and had our tour in English.</div>
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Back to town on our bike, we stowed it away at our hotel and walked back into town for the 5 pm tour of our third Albertine site, <i>Schloss Ehrenburg</i>. Once again, no photos allowed inside, though one can go to their website and get quite a good look about. This was largely where Albert and his brother grew up, and where Albert and Victoria stayed in Coburg whenever they had important guests or large events to deal with. It was quite grand. Thanks to a handout, we were able to figure out more or less what our tour guide was telling everyone else in German, and he did answer a few of our questions posed in English.</div>
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The next morning we were off again by train, this time as part of our plan to explore the upper Main. The train took us to Bayreuth on the branch called the Red Main. We got in early so headed a little further up the Red Main, but found it so hilly that we returned to town and instead toured the<i> Neues Schloss,</i> a grand palace in town that did allow photographs. It was built in the mid-1700's, when most of the U.S. consisted of small houses of very modest means. Oh, what a contrast!</div>
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The next day we rode 40 km down the small Red Main to its junction with the White Main, near Kulmbach. The km sign says 0 km because the Germans count their river distances from the mouth of a river heading upstream, and this is km 0 for the two branches. They should also have a sign for the Main saying 525 km, for that is how far we will be following it down to its own km 0 at the Rhine, through many twists and turns.</div>
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Kulmbach is on almost no one's list of tourist sites, but we found it charming. From its narrow medieval street pattern and quaint homes and businesses one could look up and see one of Germany's more impressive fortresses,<i> Plassenburg</i>. It was built by the Hohenzollern dynasty, one branch of which went on to become kings of Prussia and then Emperors of Germany after Unification in 1871. This branch of the family wasn't quite so lucky.<i> Plassenburg</i> was seized and partially destroyed not once but twice, the second time by Napoleon's younger brother, Jerome. They've tidied things up a bit since, and the view of the countryside and of the town spread out below was quite wonderful.</div>
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Riding down the Main, we occasionally saw other large structures high in the hills. Near Bad Staffelstein we looked up at<i> Kloster Banz</i>, a cloister founded in the 12th century. Just as Sunni and Shia extremists today attack each other's mosques and holy places, so too did Catholics and Protestants savagely attack each other in the Thirty Years War. The cloister was plundered and destroyed. It was rebuilt in the late 1600s, but a little over a century later it was disbanded when monasteries and convents were secularized following the Napoleonic Wars. Today part of it is a museum, the rest a school.</div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-J4N7rolLNeU/XRocFYV3-WI/AAAAAAAAXB4/I6uj1hTby38uWiBTNxY6BLImVdKxmuLFACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2839.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1289" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-J4N7rolLNeU/XRocFYV3-WI/AAAAAAAAXB4/I6uj1hTby38uWiBTNxY6BLImVdKxmuLFACLcBGAs/s320/IMG_2839.JPG" width="257" /></a>Our route followed the Main, sometimes closely, sometimes out of sight, but never far away,. Every 5-8 km we would come to a small town, sometimes riding past it along the river, sometimes through it. In one such place, Kemmern, we were negotiating the twists and turns of our route through the town when we heard music close by. We scooted around and caught this small procession that went all of a few hundred meters/yards around the church. A neighbor told us the church does this 2 or 3 times a year, today perhaps because the prior Thursday was the Feast of Corpus Christi, a major event in German Catholic churches.</div>
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A little further along, we stopped to eat our picnic lunch next to one of those numerous Main River locks. We watched as the<i> Viking Skadi</i> sat in the locks for what seemed like a dozen minutes, then slowly pulled out. It houses up to 190 passengers, but only three sat on the front deck and none on the rear, the only viewpoints available. As it went by you could see that the railings and folding chairs on the top deck were all folded down, indicating the boat has just come from, or is headed to, one of the many low bridges over the Main. For particularly low bridges, they can even lower the little cabin from which the captain controls the boat. Meanwhile, the<i> Rhein Prinzessin</i> waited its turn, followed soon after by a sailboat with its mast fully lowered. Perhaps these boats sometimes go through in only 15 or 20 minutes, but with any sort of traffic, it's easy to see them sitting in or near a lock for half an hour or more. And there are 68 locks between Amsterdam and Budapest, the 15-day journey the Viking boat is taking. Whew, that's a lot of waiting about! Hopefully they'll set up the chairs on the top deck soon so the rest of those 190 folks can come out, get some fresh air, and enjoy the view.</div>
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We are not entirely obstacle-free ourselves, but ours are usually handled in less than a minute. In fact, we have to stop for obstructions like these only once every few days. Most of the time we're sailing right along, sightseeing all day long from our own top deck.</div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aVPo_7IMdvU/XRpA2mylyXI/AAAAAAAAXC8/nvmqQCTFFCYVGFkF0bpjUQDJvLK5ioB_QCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2883.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aVPo_7IMdvU/XRpA2mylyXI/AAAAAAAAXC8/nvmqQCTFFCYVGFkF0bpjUQDJvLK5ioB_QCLcBGAs/s320/IMG_2883.JPG" width="320" /></a>Even before leaving home for our trip, we had made arrangements with our German friends Rainer and Brigitte to meet up on the Main for three nights together. We met their train at 1 pm in Schweinfurt and cycled 19 km to the small town of Wipfeld, where they had found lodging in a <i>Bett und Bike Pension.</i> Hotels that prove themselves bike-friendly to the largest bike club in Germany get certified as<i> Bett und Bike</i>, and we therefore try to find places like this so that we know our bike will be safely stored overnight in a bike garage or other safe location.</div>
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After dinner, we followed a pamphlet our host gave us outlining a walking tour of town, the high point of which was, figuratively and literally, the<i> Aussichtspunkt</i>, or viewpoint, high up on the hill next to the church. That's pretty much the bulk of town in that first view, then a view across the river to a former Augustinian friary plus the ferry we will take in the morning. In the past day we have also moved from<i> Bierfranken</i>, the beer-loving part of Franconia, to<i> Weinfranken,</i> the wine part, so yes, that's part of a vineyard in the foreground.</div>
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On the far side of the river was a post built to attract storks, which had in fact succeeded. We watched a lone stork stand guard, or so it seemed, then fly away when a second one approached and landed. This second one seemed to be leaning down to feed some little ones, but we could only surmise, as we never saw a baby stork. After descending the hill back to the riverbank, we became enthralled with a family of swans, who finally all posed for a group photo.</div>
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The next morning we hopped on that ferry for the 5 minute ride across the Main and turned downstream, somewhat closer to the stork nest. YES, there is a baby stork -- wait, no, TWO babies! It's hard to imagine, but these tiny little babies will be big enough and adept enough to join their parents for the Fall migration all the way to Central or Southern Africa two months from now!</div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-g1234x8kyu8/XRpJgzTBTGI/AAAAAAAAXE0/-mD4srcZCUs687zcilqbDnhOOyO2NbtTwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2892.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; clear: left; color: #0066cc; float: left; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-g1234x8kyu8/XRpJgzTBTGI/AAAAAAAAXE0/-mD4srcZCUs687zcilqbDnhOOyO2NbtTwCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_2892.JPG" width="300" /></a>As we moved on, we went deeper into wine country, and in fact parked our bikes by the road in order to hike uphill to the Pilgrimage Church of "Maria in the Wine Garden." It gained some notoriety in 1962 when its renowned wood carving of Mary was seized by thieves who threatened to saw her up unless a ransom of 100,000 marks was paid. They were offered 10,000, and returned her. She is now held up high in the church, and also under constant electronic monitoring. Nearby was a typical piece of religious art with the family of the donor nobleman duly painted, and of course duly devout. Having your family portrait painted was considered unacceptably tacky at that time, with the large exception of paintings like this. Outside, the views to the left and to the right were of acres and acres of vineyards.</div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-E3wwM31Kk6E/XRpMRGQ7alI/AAAAAAAAXFA/obfYop5-4agw9yAuAFDGvMiv-U-GJKFpQCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2901.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; clear: right; color: #0066cc; float: right; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1201" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-E3wwM31Kk6E/XRpMRGQ7alI/AAAAAAAAXFA/obfYop5-4agw9yAuAFDGvMiv-U-GJKFpQCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_2901.JPG" width="480" /></a>We had two more stops that day, first in Volkach where we took a photo of the<i> Gasthaus Storchen</i>, Guesthouse of the Storks, with its gleaming stork sign, and then of the handsome<i> Rathaus,</i> or city hall. An hour later in Dettelbach we followed a guidebook's directions to track down a certain bakery and try a certain type of cookie. It was OK, but the ice cream was better. A sign in the window reminds folks that they've been in business 333 years! </div>
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Our destination was Kitzingen, where Jeff had his photo taken next to the place where the town has marked the height of notable floods. This is<i> not</i> right next to the river, so it has to rise maybe 2-3 meters/yards above normal to even reach the bottom of this building..</div>
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Although we are re-doing a large part of the Main that we rode in 2015, our overnight in Kitzingen was the only hotel we revisited. The hotel itself was only so-so, but the breakfast buffet was not only above average, but in the most interesting setting we've so far come upon -- the old vaulted wine cellar. All German hotels serve a breakfast buffet, and even the most meager of them is better than almost anything you'll find in America. Here's a sampling of this one.</div>
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Following advice from the<i> Backroads Guide to Germany</i> that we read this Spring courtesy of our Seattle Public Library, we stopped in the small town of Sulzfeld. This place is totally off the tourist route, yet it was one of the most authentic old cities we've seen in Europe, with virtually its entire city wall still intact. Here's a tour around some of its highlights.</div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-K8AEOBKl0GY/XRpW_6HEjhI/AAAAAAAAXG8/7R5uI4lTwrYcS7OfR_7ilgK7im_urtpPACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2931.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; clear: right; color: #0066cc; float: right; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1104" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-K8AEOBKl0GY/XRpW_6HEjhI/AAAAAAAAXG8/7R5uI4lTwrYcS7OfR_7ilgK7im_urtpPACLcBGAs/s640/IMG_2931.JPG" width="440" /></a>Our other main sightseeing stop this day was in Marktbreit, which we remembered from four years ago. But it was worth another stop, if only to take yet another photo of its wonderful<i> Spitzhaus,</i> or "pointy house." The view from the city out to the entry gate is also evocative, as is this second-story soldier on a house nearby.</div>
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Our destination was Veithoechsheim, a small city that's now basically a suburb of Wuerzburg. After we had our lodgings booked, we discovered an amazing coincidence. Vic and Jan, the couple who rent our condo in Seattle each Summer, actually lived in this small town for two years, 16 years ago, while Vic was on loan as an Endodontist from the U.S. Public Health Service to the U.S. Army, which had a base nearby back then! On their recommendation, we visited the<i> Sonnenschein Restaurant</i>, and the sun is still shining on the chefs in this place -- we had an excellent meal.</div>
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The ostensible reason for stopping here was the presence of a palace built as a summer getaway for the Prince-Bishop of Wuerzburg. It's elegant, but we found the gardens more interesting. </div>
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The Main Cycle Route is on the opposite shore, but in the past year or two they've constructed a nice bicycle-pedestrian bridge over the river and high enough to let though Viking boats and other river traffic through. In the distance, by the way, is a far more impressive bridge that carries the high-speed ICE (Inter-European Express) trains into Wuerzburg.</div>
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The next morning we said goodbye to Rainer and Brigitte, but not for long. We're hoping to visit them at their home in Goettingen four weeks from now. As we continue, we are still very much in wine country, and also in castle country. The third one is seen from a ferry we took across the Main to our lodgings the next night. The fourth one -- the white castle manor house and the grey keep next to it -- looms down above the city of Miltenberg.</div>
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In our 20 days of biking the Main valley and its tributaries, we only had rain the one time we discussed above. However, what we did have a challenging time with was the heat. In the second week it broke 90 degrees F (32 C) on four days, and was in the mid-80s (~30 C) for many other days. Thank goodness for fans in some of our hotel rooms. It wasn't overly humid, at least, and we managed. When we arrived in Klingenberg we watched yet another Viking boat pass through yet another lock, then relaxed on the deck of our lodgings, the<i> Beautiful View Hotel Staube</i>, and admired the vineyards across the river.</div>
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The next day it hit 97 degrees. At least it wasn't the 115 degrees they had to endure in the south of France, the hottest temperature ever recorded on the European continent, but hot enough. We only did 29 km, less than 20 miles, and checked in early at a hotel we found that had air conditioning. We sat in our room at 22 C, just over 70 F, and Jeff worked on the blog while Louise read a novel on her Kindle e-reader. </div>
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Our last full day on the Main took us to Frankfurt, meaning the river ford of the Franks. In Charlemagne's time the Frankish kingdom included much of today's France and much of what the Germans call<i> Franken,</i> or Franconia in English. But Franconia is not at all "French," and for the last 200 years it has been part of Bavaria. Ironically, in entering Frankfurt we<i> left</i> Franconia and Bavaria for the German state of Hesse. Go figure. </div>
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Our route was largely close to the river, and therefore uninterrupted by cross streets. What bridges we came to had to be reasonably high for boat traffic to pass under them, as did our bike route. It's possible to bike right past Frankfurt, one of the larger and busier cities in Germany, without ever stopping your bike! But stop we did to take this portrait of the city as we saw it from Little Red.</div>
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We spent an extra day here in order to visit one of the larger art museums in Germany, the<i> Staedel.</i> As always, our focus was mainly on Dutch art from the Golden Age, and 19th century art from almost anywhere, plus a usually faster-paced look at pretty much the rest of the collection. But we'll start our "sampler" with a portrait of Frankfurt painted by Domenico Quaglio in 1831. We wonder what, if anything, one can still find that was in his painting?</div>
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Next door to this painting is one of the museum's prized works, Johann Tischbein's<i> Goethe in the Roman Campagna</i>, completed in 1787. The view of Frankfurt is a common size for paintings, but this one of Goethe is virtually life-size. The commentary was amusing: "... this masterpiece of the collection lastingly influenced our notion of the poet's appearance, in spite of certain discrepancies in proportion and the enduring mystery of the two left feet."</div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8YEDuJJWg8Q/XR4obeErtTI/AAAAAAAAXJc/HIoG-sUP7agdc0KuuXl9RSu9hKsLFM7tQCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2977.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="772" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8YEDuJJWg8Q/XR4obeErtTI/AAAAAAAAXJc/HIoG-sUP7agdc0KuuXl9RSu9hKsLFM7tQCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_2977.JPG" width="307" /></a>One thing the Staedel did well was to tell us about some of the paintings, which many museums nowadays do as well, but<i> also</i> to tell us about how the museum came to obtain certain paintings through a particular benefactor or, occasionally, by means of special fund-raising for a particularly important painting. In the former category is Pieter Aertsen's<i> Market Scene with Christ and the Adulteress.</i> The scene with Christ is in the center of the canvas, but these young women working at the market are in the foreground and therefore quite prominent. They give us a good idea of what women wore in such circumstances 500 years ago, and so we have focused just on them.</div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Gtm0kUHP1Pg/XR4_2YCF68I/AAAAAAAAXJ8/0Q9Id0Fo3IwwxSS0ILYaCn750ZmUhlQEgCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2974.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1164" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Gtm0kUHP1Pg/XR4_2YCF68I/AAAAAAAAXJ8/0Q9Id0Fo3IwwxSS0ILYaCn750ZmUhlQEgCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_2974.JPG" width="290" /></a>Here are three other Dutch/Flemish paintings that caught our eye. First is a portrait of artist Cornelis de Vos's daughter Susanna, followed by a view of the Haarlemermeer, or Lake of Haarlem, by Jan van Goyen. Exactly a year ago we stopped to see an enormous steam engine built in the 19th century to drain the Haarlemermeer, which it did quite successfully. Some of it is now farmland, but quite a large part of it is now Schiphol Airport outside Amsterdam. The third one is<i> View of Antwerp with the Schelde Frozen Over</i> by Lucas van Valckenborch.</div>
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One more Flemish painting needs to be shared since, as the museum puts it, "this extraordinary picture holds a strong fascination for many viewers." It is called<i> Dance of the Rats,</i> by Ferdinand van Kessel. <br />
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The 19th century collection is not as large, but it did have several works of interest. We'll stick with our Dutch theme and share with you Claude Monet's<i> Houses on the Bank of the River Zaan,</i> painted in this city just north of Amsterdam in 1871 when Monet was avoiding the Franco-Prussian War and its violent aftermath. Then, for a finale,<i> Free Period in the Amsterdam Orphanage</i>, painted in 1882 by the German artist Max Liebermann.</div>
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The museum had a rather large quantity of modern art, virtually none of which appealed to us, so we made our own "modern art" self-portrait, courtesy of a wall containing a mosaic of tiny mirrors.</div>
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We have been to numerous art museums in the dozen years we've been retired, but not one has had an exhibit like this last one we need to share with you. The Staedel had two rooms of paintings that were turned around to face the wall so visitors could see what the backs of these old paintings look like, and how art curators "read" this information to help establish the provenance of works they acquire. We'll just focus on one, a 1789 painting of a member of the Holzhausen family. Since the artist's date of death is included in big letters on the back, this information was added long after the painting was completed. The irregular lines on the back of the canvas are from a reapplication of varnish sometime even more recent, as the new varnish spread through cracks that had formed in the original painting. Finally, labels on the back show which dealers have handled the painting, and one indicates that the owner, a Holzhausen family member, loaned out the painting and that it was insured for a certain sum at that time. We hope some other museums give their visitors a similar look "behind the paintings" from time to time.</div>
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At noon on our 20th day of riding from Nuremberg, we reached the mouth of the Main. The pole to the left of center in the next photo marks 0 km on the Main. That's the Rhine behind it, but it's hard to see how large the Rhine is, so we've included one final photo taken 1 km further down the Rhine, looking across it to the city of Mainz. The Rhine is one BIG river!</div>
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We have now pedaled 720 km -- 450 miles -- in the watershed of the Main. We are now heading down the Rhine about 100 km, then will turn inland (and upstream, for a change) on the Lahn. Our next blog entry will take you there with us.</div>
Jeff & Louise Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08667329438445463926noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4009287700201166763.post-73080731258650347522019-02-03T20:52:00.000-08:002019-02-03T20:52:51.573-08:00A Most Unusual RideOur regular readers know we don't write the blog during the winter. The last time we did so, we were in New Zealand and Australia, where it was actually summer at the time. So why today? Because we have just ridden one of the most unusual and exciting rides we have ever done.<br />
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Seattle has 2 main North-South highways, I-5 and Hwy 99. Part of Highway 99 is a viaduct that has been an eyesore since the day they started building it, in 1949. In 2001 it was damaged by the Nisqually Earthquake. Not enough to close it, but clearly enough to convince the city that it had to come down before another earthquake did the demolition work for us. Since the Viaduct looks an awful lot like the Nimitz Freeway that came down on top of (and killed) 42 people during the San Francisco earthquake in 1989, <i>nobody </i>wanted Mother Nature's help at that price.<br />
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It took 18 years to get city and state officials to agree to build a tunnel to replace the viaduct, and then for an army of workers to do the job with the help of Big Bertha, the largest tunnel-boring machine ever built. Three weeks ago the viaduct closed for good, and those workers have been busy disconnecting Highway 99 from the old route and channeling it into the new one. Drivers have had to use alternate routes for those three weeks, which were nicknamed "Viadoom" for the traffic jams that were expected. But Seattleites rose to the challenge and large numbers of them started their commutes earlier than usual, or switched to mass transit or cycling, or worked from home, and the city did not become a giant traffic jam. But no one expects such good fortune to last forever, and the opening of the new tunnel to motor vehicles tomorrow, February 4th, is going to be a Big Deal for Seattle.<br />
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But what does this have to do with biking? Well, yesterday and today were set aside as the public's chance to see the new tunnel up close on foot or by bike. Close to 100,000 folks were there yesterday for an 8k fun run in the morning and casual strolls through the tunnel all afternoon. Tens of thousands had timed admission tickets, and those who waited to long to get those and just showed up had to wait up to an hour to be allowed in.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-b_aeUfBRpE4/XFehLjQBanI/AAAAAAAAWyw/FtupVEsuAWg21ZDcpnCltl7AL9hzV3PmACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2515.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-b_aeUfBRpE4/XFehLjQBanI/AAAAAAAAWyw/FtupVEsuAWg21ZDcpnCltl7AL9hzV3PmACLcBGAs/s400/IMG_2515.JPG" width="400" /></a>Today was for the cyclists. The Cascade Bicycle Club organized it with the help of Washington State DOT, and they sold out of all 12,000 spots weeks ago. We we no slouches, and got our tickets the week they went on sale. With that many participants, it now holds the record as the largest cycling event in state history.<br />
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Cyclists could start anytime between 8:30 and 10:30 am, and we got there roughly mid-way through that window. It was chilly, 40 degrees Fahrenheit (3 C) and we had ridden 7 miles (10 km) to get there, so the bank of porta-potties was a welcome stop before heading on. There were so many bikes at the beginning point two blocks from the tunnel that you had to walk your bike.<br />
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And then, there it was, that opening of the earth we've been waiting for all these years!<br />
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We joined many others in stopping on the side from time to time to take photos. Here we are just 2 or 3 hundred yards/meters inside the tunnel, watching folks entering and heading down the surprisingly steep hill as the tunnel descends to a point that is actually below sea level before rising at the far end.<br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Tnamv-QeOAo/XFekDNrdM8I/AAAAAAAAW0A/opmgES969sYBZUeoau64ArgoHxT46D42ACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2530.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Tnamv-QeOAo/XFekDNrdM8I/AAAAAAAAW0A/opmgES969sYBZUeoau64ArgoHxT46D42ACLcBGAs/s320/IMG_2530.JPG" width="320" /></a>At regular intervals there are escape doors, should there be an emergency such as a vehicle crash that causes a fire, and you are always in view of easy-to read signs telling you where the nearest exit is. We stopped at one and stepped inside the door. A sign clearly told you where you were and how far it was to each exit at the north and south ends of the tunnel, and stairs took you down to the seemingly endless route out if you are in the southbound lanes (which are in the top of the tunnel bore) or up if you are escaping from the northbound lanes.<br />
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On we went, reassured we had a safe way out if all these bikes crashed and burned. Burning might seem unlikely, crashing a bit less so when a dense wave of cyclists came along. At last, the illustrious "light at the end of the tunnel!"<br />
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We had been underground for 2 miles. At the south end we went another half mile or so out in the daylight until we came to a turnaround. Along the way we passed the sign that told us the tunnel toll today was "free" <i>and</i> that we could pay that toll by mail! How cool is that? Actually, the tunnel will be free tomorrow for motor vehicles, and also for a few months more, as drivers get used to using it. <i>Then</i> the fiscal axe will fall and tolling will begin. As is common pretty much everywhere now, you have to have a transponder on your car to automate the process, otherwise they'll read your license plate and mail you a bill, plus a "convenience charge" of $2. No worries for us -- bikes won't be allowed in the tunnel after today.<br />
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7fIOhCLDgyI/XFe43s84UMI/AAAAAAAAW1Y/RZadOi3QSRY1ka_CWzkp1tFX6-p3lG-7ACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2541.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1201" height="640" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7fIOhCLDgyI/XFe43s84UMI/AAAAAAAAW1Y/RZadOi3QSRY1ka_CWzkp1tFX6-p3lG-7ACLcBGAs/s640/IMG_2541.JPG" width="480" /></a>Just before reentering the tunnel we stopped to take a photo of the south entrance. A tandem pulled up and the couple asked us if we're the folks who give talks about biking in Europe? Why YES, that <i>is </i>us!!! In the 5 1/2 years since we took our first extended bike trip in Europe we have given slide presentations over a dozen times to three different bike clubs and to three additional organizations that host presentations about all sorts of outdoor adventures, so we have become somewhat known around here. It's fun to be recognized, but even more so when folks tell us they've been inspired to get out there pursuing their own adventures. As they did today with this couple and then, 45 minutes later, with yet <i>another </i>rider!<br />
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The route north was pretty much the same as the one southbound except that we had an even bigger downhill this time, amplified by a south wind that was so strong it was even pushing through the tunnel. We hit 32 mph (51 kph), and perhaps could have gone even a tad faster but we really didn't want to do that crash-and-burn thing with all the other bikes around us.<br />
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After the 2-mile trip north we once again came to the tunnel exit, looped around a few blocks, and entered the <i>old</i> tunnel. We mentioned a viaduct earlier in this blog, and we were indeed headed toward it, but before the old highway got there it first dug under Denny Hill in a cut-and-cover tunnel, <i>i.e.</i> one just below the street that was dug out from above, not bored through the earth like the new tunnel.<br />
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We headed south in the former northbound lanes so that the turnaround in downtown would cause less interference with regular street traffic when we exited and then reentered the viaduct. A large contingent of the Seattle Police Dept. bike patrol was there but apparently not needed for action dealing with large-scale crashes or other mayhem.<br />
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Like the viaduct we were headed toward, this tunnel is also ugly, ugly, ugly. In a few weeks it will disappear. It will be filled with concrete rubble from the viaduct as it gets dismantled, then gets sealed. We wonder what archaeologists a millennium from now will make of this?<br />
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No one is going to miss this tunnel. The viaduct is a little different. Most everyone agrees it is not pretty and that it has cut Seattle off from its wonderful waterfront for 7 decades. But driving it meant getting some wonderful if fleeting views from your car.window. However, given that many drivers since the Nisqually Earthquake have been saying little prayers: "Please God, no earthquake today until I get off this thing," we all know it has to go. So here are some of those views. These are some of the last ones anyone will ever get from up here, as the viaduct was permanently closed at noon today, an hour after we exited from it, and demolition starts later this month. The south end, just beyond the turnaround, was already permanently out of service, as the third photo below shows.<br />
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And just before the end of the ride, while stopped to take some of those photos, we had another wonderful surprise. A dad and his son approached us. "You're the folks who spoke with young Zane two months ago at the University Village shopping mall, when he spent 20 minutes asking you all about your tandem bike. As I told you then, he's just taken up biking and is fascinated by bikes, and he has often talked about those nice people who told him all about their tandem. He saw you a minute ago and said we had to stop and say Hi. We were <i>soooo</i> touched! Let's hope Zane keeps his love of cycling, and his curiosity about bikes and much more!<br />
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We're not the type to take group rides, but boy, this was one humdinger of one. Like Zane, we'll be talking about it for a long time to come.Jeff & Louise Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08667329438445463926noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4009287700201166763.post-13377743589357265502018-12-04T20:42:00.000-08:002018-12-04T20:42:33.841-08:00A Week in Edinburgh, and Then HomeThis isn't the fabled Last Page of the Internet, but it <i>is</i> the last page of this year's travel blog. It will focus on Edinburgh, where we spent a week in early September (yeah, we're a bit late writing this one up . . .) and finish with a handful of photos of family and friends we dropped in on as we made our way back to Seattle.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-s42w9d3Xb3g/XANSqFAIZ0I/AAAAAAAAWj0/V13aYTQ7EXAzU1-2O6UxHbt83Kw9GZy7gCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2357.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-s42w9d3Xb3g/XANSqFAIZ0I/AAAAAAAAWj0/V13aYTQ7EXAzU1-2O6UxHbt83Kw9GZy7gCLcBGAs/s320/IMG_2357.JPG" width="320" /></a>Edinburgh is the capital of Scotland and has been for several centuries. Today it is a city of over half a million in the city proper, over 1.3 million in the Edinburgh city region. Although a bit smaller than Glasgow, we found it vastly more interesting and attractive. Our week there flew by.<br />
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We found a terrific flat through Airbnb in an area called Grassmarket. It was a steep climb of 49 steps up a narrow turret to get to our place, but it was relatively quiet, comfortable, clean, and RIGHT in the heart of the city. There was even a supermarket only a third of a mile away. Couldn't have asked for more!<br />
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NvFB0UVOLoI/XANTHBKE1RI/AAAAAAAAWj8/duSFMO8DTXEgMT0xYWfP3P3aUNInFr30QCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2356.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NvFB0UVOLoI/XANTHBKE1RI/AAAAAAAAWj8/duSFMO8DTXEgMT0xYWfP3P3aUNInFr30QCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_2356.JPG" width="400" /></a>But more there was. Out our bedroom window we could see Edinburgh Castle looming above us. From just down the street we got an even better view of the castle, so that's where we'll start today's blog. The front door of the castle was also just a third of a mile away. The flat supermarket walk took only five minutes, but as you can see, it's a bit of an uphill slog to the drawbridge entry way, so it was a bit more than five minutes for that one! But it made up for the climb with interesting and colorful buildings along the way.<br />
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vKi7skt-aFI/W_3hd5ABtOI/AAAAAAAAWhc/ARU2JZxcAFsaLBIMpjsta-m-67Go8wYqQCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2102.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vKi7skt-aFI/W_3hd5ABtOI/AAAAAAAAWhc/ARU2JZxcAFsaLBIMpjsta-m-67Go8wYqQCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_2102.JPG" width="400" /></a><br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XkJVqTkB6ks/XALrvZoNFPI/AAAAAAAAWiE/wZxofQZbe4wL3uDB-TX_xMqMoIVm1j1DACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2131.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1193" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XkJVqTkB6ks/XALrvZoNFPI/AAAAAAAAWiE/wZxofQZbe4wL3uDB-TX_xMqMoIVm1j1DACLcBGAs/s320/IMG_2131.JPG" width="238" /></a>It <i>is</i> a castle, so naturally there are cannons. A lot of them. We'll just settle for this one, ready to blast away at downtown Edinburgh.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-S_GqoM63_Ag/XALsKjB9EII/AAAAAAAAWiM/O6TZ9kkjfNYwB8tA_0qe3qt5PN3F-yJ3QCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2140.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1287" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-S_GqoM63_Ag/XALsKjB9EII/AAAAAAAAWiM/O6TZ9kkjfNYwB8tA_0qe3qt5PN3F-yJ3QCLcBGAs/s320/IMG_2140.JPG" width="257" /></a>And of course there be lots of other weapons. Here are two collections on display.<br />
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There are countless forts and castles in Europe that have rarely seen a shot fired in anger. This is not one of them. Since Edinburgh is one of the first places an invading English army comes to when, for the umpteenth time, it's trying to put down the Scots, there have been many battles, some of which resulted in the capture of the castle by one side or the other.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-t5F8HMOG4ps/XALu-v9JuwI/AAAAAAAAWic/g4WK2MF7iGgjd-UjXVGz8fUjw6qpWd0nQCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2114.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="989" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-t5F8HMOG4ps/XALu-v9JuwI/AAAAAAAAWic/g4WK2MF7iGgjd-UjXVGz8fUjw6qpWd0nQCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_2114.JPG" width="246" /></a>But there have been far, far longer periods when there were no enemies in sight. So they were brought here from hither and yon, and thrown in the dungeon. It is a place of shadows and stories, such as that of the fellow who thought he had found a way to escape, by burying himself in a barrel of dung. He hadn't done his research -- no compost trucks came by, back then. The castle authorities dealt with their refuse by tossing it off the ramparts. Our friend lost his life at the very moment he won his freedom.<br />
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We took the tour through this gloomy area, past places where prisoners of war and captured pirates spent days, weeks, years in these rooms. With all that time on their hands, some turned their skills to fabricating objects of remarkable beauty, such as this inlaid wooden chest to the right.<br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xUV3cVovSpE/XAM596FuHtI/AAAAAAAAWjM/EOtx94Fo69gLOQzZdfeHX7UwujPZJijOwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2143.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xUV3cVovSpE/XAM596FuHtI/AAAAAAAAWjM/EOtx94Fo69gLOQzZdfeHX7UwujPZJijOwCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_2143.JPG" width="400" /></a>The castle now holds some of the most precious items in Scotland, the Crown Jewels of Scotland and the Stone of Destiny, a rock that every Scottish king stood upon, once upon a time, when taking the oath of office. But the waiting lines were an hour long, so we opted instead for the no-lines-at-all Great Hall next door to it. It was built 507 years ago for King James IV. In the 1650's during the English Commonwealth, troops loyal to Oliver Cromwell defeated the Scots and took over the castle. To accommodate all the troops they decided to staff the place with, they needed more space, so they built the barracks shown in the drawing to the right, right inside this glorious hall. Happily the Great Hall has been restored to its one-time glory.<br />
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Finally, to the ramparts! Immediately below us is a green area now called Princes Street Gardens, since Princes Street runs along the far side of it. This was a marsh until the mid-1760s, when the city began filling it in.<br />
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The area just out of view to the right is called Old Town, centering on a street called the Royal Mile. We'll head there one paragraph down. The area just beyond Princes Street Gardens is New Town, which started in 1767 and grew in stages over the next half century. The second photo below is a sketch of the original plan, and the third photo a closer look from the castle at what it looks like today. There are still many 18th and 19th century buildings in New Town, but not too many on Princes Street itself, now that it has become the prime shopping street in town. Look for ones that are only 4 stories (sometimes with a turreted fifth floor) and made of stone. As soon as one gets to the interior streets, as we'll show you a bit further on, the majority of the buildings are indeed original.<br />
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9yM8u5MxY4w/XAM_WpXAgEI/AAAAAAAAWjg/5-ujORZlPvc12Ndg0VMRnVmDSmPW5do8wCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2101.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9yM8u5MxY4w/XAM_WpXAgEI/AAAAAAAAWjg/5-ujORZlPvc12Ndg0VMRnVmDSmPW5do8wCLcBGAs/s320/IMG_2101.JPG" width="320" /></a>The Royal Mile is a road that descends almost exactly a mile from Edinburgh Castle to the royal Palace of Holyroodhouse. Leaving the Castle we first passed a variety of buskers, starting with a fellow chanting a Capella, followed by roughly one bagpiper every two or three blocks. Bagpipes are something of an acquired taste, and never more so than when you are midway between two bagpipers playing different tunes. Assuming, of course, that you can actually distinguish one bagpipe tune from another.<br />
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Running off the Royal Mile at right angles were numerous narrow passageways, called "wynds." We'll turn off the audio for a moment and walk down the street, admiring the stolid buildings along the Royal Mile and peeking as we go at several of these colorful nooks and crannies off to the sides.<br />
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Holyrood Palace is now the official residence of the British monarch in Scotland, and QE II spends a week there every year at the end of June. The official website says she typically "entertains" 8,000 guests during this week. Not quite sure how she entertains 8,000 folks with more than one of her famous hand waves.<br />
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We entered through this imposing portal and took the house tour past the location of perhaps the most infamous few minutes in Scottish history. Mary Queen of Scots was having dinner on March 9, 1566 with several guests, one of whom was her secretary, David Rizzio. 80 uninvited guests suddenly arrived, including Mary's husband Lord Darnley. Darnley had been convinced (most likely falsely) that Mary's 5-month pregnancy was Rizzio's doing, not his own. Mary was physically restrained while Rizzio received 56 stab wounds. Within two hours he was buried in the monastery ruins next door. Mary managed to flee. Eleven months later Darnley was spending his nights in a house just up the Royal Mile from Holyrood House while persons unknown were spending their days filling the basement with gunpowder. He was buried not far from Rizzio. Gosh, hard to say who were the nastier group back then, the Scottish royals or the English.<br />
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In any event, it was interesting to get some historical thrills and chills walking through the palace. No photos were allowed inside, so we've included artist William Allan's version of the events done two centuries later. But what we can do is show you the impressive front facade of the palace, plus the ruins next door of the monastery of the Holy Cross (Holyrood) that gave its name to the palace.<br />
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With so much Scottish history on the Royal Mile and particularly down at this end, it's no surprise that the Scots chose a location across the street from Holyroodhouse Palace for the Scottish Parliament Building. In 1997 a referendum authorized partial autonomy (called <i>devolution</i>) for Scotland and the re-creation of a Scottish parliament that had ceased to exist in 1707 when England and Scotland merged to become the United Kingdom.<br />
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It's an odd building from the outside. We did not go in so can't say whether or not it improves upon closer inspection. One architectural critic summed up its complexity as "quite a meal." It was a collaboration of Spanish and Scottish architects, and the <i>Architectural Digest </i>called it "a<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: sans-serif;"> Celtic-Spanish cocktail to blow both minds and budgets [<i>it went waaaaay over budget</i>]; it doesn't play safe, energetically mining a new seam of National Romanticism refined and reinterpreted for the twenty-first century." On the other side, one British satirical magazine bestowed its "Worst Building of the Year" award upon it.</span><br />
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Mx1TEn8IyUM/XAXmCxKYvBI/AAAAAAAAWmU/0sQDOx_9d1c0QYDPsPtALXruwfJ8ZCE_wCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2179.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="899" data-original-width="1600" height="111" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Mx1TEn8IyUM/XAXmCxKYvBI/AAAAAAAAWmU/0sQDOx_9d1c0QYDPsPtALXruwfJ8ZCE_wCLcBGAs/s200/IMG_2179.JPG" width="200" /></a>We broke up our week in Edinburgh with a trip to Stirling, 40 miles to the west. It's home to Stirling Castle, yet another fortress that has seen more than its share of history. As we walked up from the train station we stopped at Holy Rude Church. The child Mary Queen of Scots was pregnant with on that fateful day in 1566 was duly born a few month later. Then came the equally unfortunate events that ended Lord Darnley's life. Mary seemed unbothered by her spouse's demise, and soon after married a chap who was widely viewed as involved in the plot to blow up Darnley. All this was understandably not good for Mary's standing with the citizenry of Scotland. Mary was forced to abdicate (and once again flee for her life), and the 1-year-old son she had to leave behind was brought to this modest church and crowned as James VI, King of the Scots. Of course he didn't actually perform any kingly duties in his diapers, there was a regency run by four powerful earls to handle things for the next 17 years. As you can see from this view from the Stirling Castle walls, the church is conveniently <i>right </i>next door.<br />
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YOtbQWXZOpg/XAYHdgW5uVI/AAAAAAAAWm4/upyWNleeZ8kW7S46cmmNVZunlVkVZTOpACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2206.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1567" data-original-width="1600" height="390" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YOtbQWXZOpg/XAYHdgW5uVI/AAAAAAAAWm4/upyWNleeZ8kW7S46cmmNVZunlVkVZTOpACLcBGAs/s400/IMG_2206.JPG" width="400" /></a>The main entrance to the castle is suitably intimidating. Once inside we wandered through a small complex of buildings that were pretty much James VI's entire world for the 17 years he was waiting to be a king in more than name only.<br />
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The views of the surroundings were no doubt as lush then as now, and not complicated by the gash of the M9 motorway. A bit to the left today are some fields where archaeologists and gardeners have teamed up to recreate at least the outlines of what once were royal gardens. Looking to the west, he could see the upper reaches of the valley of the River Forth. These are the Scottish Lowlands. Low, but not flat.<br />
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To see the Scottish <i>Highlands</i>, James only had to look north. On top of the nearby forested steep hill, an outpost perhaps of the real hills behind it, is a monument. This is relatively new, a mere 150 years old. It commemorates William Wallace, the Scottish hero depicted in the movie <i>Braveheart.</i> Midway between the camera and the Wallace Monument you can just make out a three-arch stone bridge. In 1297 an English army was crossing a wooden bridge at this spot when Wallace's smaller army attacked and defeated it in the Battle of Stirling Bridge.<br />
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The largest room in the castle, and for many years the largest in Scotland, was the Great Hall, where banquets, dances and pageants were held. To get an idea of what folks filling the hall might have looked like, one only has to look at some of the many wood and stone carvings around the castle.<br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-S3sx4Dfl8os/XAYPmvrQZLI/AAAAAAAAWn0/u0zg6nzWp486DaZHbY2-yYoc3PXc0YGugCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2209.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="791" height="400" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-S3sx4Dfl8os/XAYPmvrQZLI/AAAAAAAAWn0/u0zg6nzWp486DaZHbY2-yYoc3PXc0YGugCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_2209.JPG" width="197" /></a> A few parts of the castle have been decorated to show life in the 15th and 16th centuries, the last time the castle was much used as a residence by the kings of Scotland. Once James VI was invited south in 1603 to become King James I of Great Britain, Stirling Castle lost most of its once considerable importance.<br />
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But a visit today takes you back to the 1540s, with tour guides in period costume and the royal chambers recreated as well as possible to reflect that period. The Scottish kings have considered the unicorn as their symbol since the 1200s, and there were once tapestries of unicorns here, now lost to history. 15 years ago a group arranged to copy the Hunt of the Unicorn tapestry series owned by the Cloisters Museum in New York, renowned as the most famous and among the best-preserved group of medieval tapestries in the world. The copy was completed in 2012 at the cost of <span style="background-color: #f3f2ea; color: #63615e; font-size: 14px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">£</span></span>2 million! We've seen the originals, and the copy is equally impressive both from a distance and close-up.<br />
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Back in Edinburgh, it was time to climb to Arthur's Seat. Like the hill that Edinburgh Castle sits atop, it is the remnant of a volcano over 300 million years ago. The name might be a reference to King Arthur, but he was really an English, not Scottish, legend, and a likelier source is a corruption of words referring to arrows. No matter, it's a wonderful hike up to its 822 foot (250 m) top, and terribly popular.<br />
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Part way up, with the help of our telephoto lens, we caught a good view of Holyroodhouse Palace and of the monastery, now ruins, that the palace grew from. From the summit there were wonderful views in all directions, such as the three bridges over the Firth of Forth (2 road bridges with white towers and a railroad bridge with red superstructure) that were 13 miles away, or Edinburgh Castle just 2 miles distant.<br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SNhpVMFXg4U/XAYcqP2RAwI/AAAAAAAAWp0/wqk6VVeqT-Yt4FqYtJlFwnirppHrazbEwCEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_2248.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1394" data-original-width="1600" height="347" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SNhpVMFXg4U/XAYcqP2RAwI/AAAAAAAAWp0/wqk6VVeqT-Yt4FqYtJlFwnirppHrazbEwCEwYBhgL/s400/IMG_2248.JPG" width="400" /></a>Looking even further away you could see the small volcanic hill in North Berwick 20 miles away, but we also took a moment to look down for there at our feet was the very national flower of Scotland, the thistle.<br />
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JG_jM2mPn-Y/XAYhkmp7rcI/AAAAAAAAWqI/mQ8TybufiiY9RX4MYtwc3FE_XEZLOUnqwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2257.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1164" data-original-width="1600" height="290" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JG_jM2mPn-Y/XAYhkmp7rcI/AAAAAAAAWqI/mQ8TybufiiY9RX4MYtwc3FE_XEZLOUnqwCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_2257.JPG" width="400" /></a>We did have two dreary, drizzly days that gave us an excuse to stay indoors in museums. In the National Museum of Scotland we encountered this wooden panel from c. 1530 with the two Scottish symbols we've just mentioned, the unicorn and the thistle. In another gallery we found a good explanation of how Arthur's seat, Castle Hill and other volcanic features have changed in the eons since they were first formed. In a third, we met the only sheep we've ever known of by first name. Dolly. The first mammal ever cloned. She was born near Edinburgh on July 5, 1996, the offspring of three mothers: one for the egg, a second for the DNA, and third as the host mother who carried the cloned embryo to term. No father, unless you count the scientists at the University of Edinburgh.<br />
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7RYsZ1XnWpY/XAYkl_xDTsI/AAAAAAAAWqg/zsdtpDjFGtkTcMNyOjcZqTUCTSYyxMspwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2256.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1585" data-original-width="1600" height="395" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7RYsZ1XnWpY/XAYkl_xDTsI/AAAAAAAAWqg/zsdtpDjFGtkTcMNyOjcZqTUCTSYyxMspwCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_2256.JPG" width="400" /></a>Yes, eclectic is the name of the game here. Some other exhibits: A map showing where the chunk of land that makes up the better part of Scotland has been in the last 650 million years as tectonic plates have floated about the globe; a dramatic collection of early airplanes; and a rare example of an Apple 1 computer designed and sold by Steve Wozniak. The customer received a circuit board and found his or her own container for it, such as this briefcase, plus supplied his or her own keyboard and monitor!<br />
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And more. Next, a hobby horse, predecessor by about 50 years to the bicycle, owned by a Scottish nobleman. No pedals on these puppies. Then a very early Dunlop tire, the world's first practical pneumatic tire, developed by Scotsman John Boyd Dunlop. And finally there's that pair of spurs on a plate. They belonged to a border reiver named Wat o'Harden. "Border reiver" is a fancy term for a class of chronic thieves who crossed the border between England and Scotland to steal from the other side. When the larder got low in the o'Harden household, his wife served Wat a plate of his spurs. "Spurred" on, he knew "wat" to do, pardon the puns.<br />
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Nowhere near as chaotic was the National Gallery of Scotland, one of the country's major art museums. Indeed, it recently acquired what is arguably the <i>Mona Lisa</i> of Scotland, <i>i.e.</i> its most iconic painting, <i>Monarch of the Glen.</i> It was executed about 1851 by Englishman Sir Edwin Landseer on a visit to Scotland, where he did much of his painting. Thanks to its use in advertising in the past few decades, it has become widely known in the UK and elsewhere.<br />
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It's a terrific museum but we'll just focus on two items beyond the <i>Monarch</i> and this general gallery view. The first is a sculpture unlike most, eschewing as it does the beauty and delicacy that most sculptors strive for. The sculptor is unknown, but it was carved about 1730. The second is a family portrait of Edinburgh's Lord Provost, Hunter Blair and his wife and <i>nine</i> children. Whew!<br />
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It wasn't another rainy day, but we did visit one other sight that was largely "indoors," but on a boat. And not just any boat. This was the <i>Royal Yacht Britannia</i>. It was a half-hour bus ride away, but we scored front-row seats on a double-decker bus and enjoyed a sometimes thrilling ride down the narrow streets of Edinburgh.<br />
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To give an overview of the boat there was a model -- out of Legos -- in the ticket lobby. Later on we also encountered a helpful drawing showing some of the more important cabins on the ship.<br />
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This was no weekend pleasure boat but a large ocean-going ship that could and did sail around the globe to New Zealand and Australia. During its service from 1953 to 1997 it sailed a million miles. On board for a major state visit would be the Queen and Prince Philip, of course, but also up to 40 palace staff and a ship's crew of about 200!<br />
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Of course everyone wants to see what the Queen's quarters looked like. During the day, she spent a lot of time at her office desk with her secretary and other close staffers. Her bedroom is nearby.<br />
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Prince Philip's sleeping quarters are similarly restrained, but obviously a tad more masculine in tone. Nearby is a guest room with the only bed on the ship that sleeps more than one, and it's only a double, <i>not </i>a queen-sized bed! Prince Charles and Diana used it for their honeymoon.<br />
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ADjPiOCgzFE/XAY5eiIoVcI/AAAAAAAAWtk/k8kW-KvImwA5wGlJbjd-OksJvkEsq3JfACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2314.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ADjPiOCgzFE/XAY5eiIoVcI/AAAAAAAAWtk/k8kW-KvImwA5wGlJbjd-OksJvkEsq3JfACLcBGAs/s400/IMG_2314.JPG" width="400" /></a>There were of course other places for the VIPs to hang out. There was a large deck astern where deck chairs were set out, and a cozy room that faced it looks utterly charming. Nautical charts on the walls were actually doors that concealed games and a phonograph player on one side of the room and and a large stash of liquor on the other. The seating was casual but refined, wouldn't you say?<br />
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TS-G3EFbnkM/XAY6Z9uKxXI/AAAAAAAAWtw/P3OjAaAFkZEWu9sNHdQlrMsAj3KxbNSxgCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2327.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1346" height="200" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TS-G3EFbnkM/XAY6Z9uKxXI/AAAAAAAAWtw/P3OjAaAFkZEWu9sNHdQlrMsAj3KxbNSxgCLcBGAs/s200/IMG_2327.JPG" width="168" /></a>The glassed-in area one deck up from that open deck was also once open. It was enclosed after the <i>Britannia</i> made its home here in Edinburgh and the ship's kitchen started serving lunch to commoners like us. It was quite a lunch. And quite an espresso.<br />
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As for the main guests, they could use the small dining room for little groups of 18 or so. But for a state dinner on board, they could handily seat 30 with all the elegance of Windsor or Buckingham Palace.<br />
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Of course they also needed a place to socialize in before or after dinner, and there was just the spot for that as well, complete with baby grand.<br />
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Alas, the crew did not have quite the same experiences. A room the size of a modest living room was the social club for the crew, outfitted nowadays by a friendly mannequin. The sleeping quarters of course were full of those twin beds, but a tad closer together. And for many, their days were spent in larger rooms than the Queen might have frequented, but not quieter.<br />
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It was indeed a most interesting tour, living up to its reputation as one of the main tourist destinations in Edinburgh. Unlike most tourists, however, we took advantage of the fact that we were now on the Firth of Forth to do a walk upstream along this large estuary for another 6 miles, to Cramond. Among the sights was an island that once bristled with guns. Its main function was to prevent German ships, especially submarines, from going a few miles further upstream to attack the naval shipyard at Rosyth or the neighboring Firth of Forth railway bridge. In the third photo, hikers are heading out to Cramond Island, right at the opening hour posted on the shore that limits, thanks to the tides, when one can safely walk to and from the island. To their right just beyond the dike-like mound is a row of piles driven into the water at the start of WW II. This was to keep submarines or small attack boats from trying to sneak up the Firth to reach Rosyth and the bridge. At Cramond we walked along the small Almond River past boats that will not be going anywhere for many hours, until the tide has finally turned.<br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aiEj18aL5q4/XAbDbN0AWCI/AAAAAAAAWv4/T6ZFnKZqR28TarZIoU_1tvDQ-f3Q59mAgCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2170.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1201" height="400" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aiEj18aL5q4/XAbDbN0AWCI/AAAAAAAAWv4/T6ZFnKZqR28TarZIoU_1tvDQ-f3Q59mAgCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_2170.JPG" width="300" /></a>Before leaving Edinburgh let's take you on one more stroll about town. Circling clockwise around the Castle we come to New Town, with its rectangular street pattern and large numbers of row houses built in the late 1700s and on into the early 1800s. Many have a service entrance in the basement and small rooms on the uppermost floor, where cooks, maids and butlers lived out their days, leaving the more spacious and accessible middle floors for their once-posh owners. Any of our readers remember <i>Upstairs, Downstairs</i>, where the London house was organized exactly so?<br />
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The streets are wide, perhaps to accommodate horses and carriages that once plied the streets. Today some have taken to accommodating parked cars, and looked perfectly <i>tatty</i>, to use a British word for it. The conversion of so many ground floors into small shops probably preceded this descent from gentility.<br />
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Besides the hills topped by Edinburgh Castle and Arthur's Seat, a third somewhat lower hill rises from the center of Edinburgh, Carlton Hill. Looking WNW from its summit you can see New Town to the far left and its 19th century neighbor Bonnington. In the foreground is the Omni Centre, which claims to be <i>the </i>place to find "fun, food, film and fitness facilities." In the far distance you can just make out the towers of the bridges 12 miles away. Turning a bit to the right, you look down at Edinburgh's port city of Leith. Hiding behind one of its taller buildings is the Royal Yacht <i>Britannia.</i> These are densely packed parts of the metropolis.<br />
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But just walk around to get a clear view from Carlton Hill to the east and southeast, and you are reminded just how wild and how close the escape to nature is when you walk past Holyroodhouse Palace and climb to Arthur's Seat.<br />
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Finally, looking WSW, you can see Castle Hill. The Royal Mile slowly ascends through that forest of stone structures, right up to the Castle door.<br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yGQRmOpTJpw/XAbMN09HI_I/AAAAAAAAWw8/s8hvLJxnxeUsVAgFQNq6j7zop8nCDDg7QCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2387.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yGQRmOpTJpw/XAbMN09HI_I/AAAAAAAAWw8/s8hvLJxnxeUsVAgFQNq6j7zop8nCDDg7QCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_2387.JPG" width="300" /></a>The tall, dark and pointy spire is Edinburgh Cathedral. As we headed back to our flat we walked past it. We missed our chance to peek in as there was a wedding about to begin, but that wasn't such a bad thing, as we gained some insight into what a stylish Scottish wedding party looks like.<br />
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We'll finish by descending once again down colorful Victoria Street, seen here from Victoria Terrace, and take a quick look at Greyfriars Bobby, one of the most-photographed spots in Edinburgh. The story is that the wee dog Bobby stood watch at the grave of his owner for 14 years, until his own death. The Greyfriars graveyard where Bobby stood watch is next door to the pub. There are some who question this story, but that has not stopped two films and a variety of novels and children's books from making Bobby one of the best-known dogs in British history. Only steps from this bronze version of faithful Bobby is Grassmarket, a lively square where our flat was located. Since our bedroom was in the back, it was actually a calm place to return to.<br />
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And "returning" is what we now turn to. We hopped a train to Glasgow and a plane to New York. We spent two nights so we could spend an afternoon and evening with Louise's brother Richard and take a walk in Central Park, only blocks from his apartment. It's New York, so of course his is a tall building but not one of the ones here. These don't rent, they sell. For prices with 8 and sometimes even 9 digits after the dollar sign.<br />
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Then we hopped a bus for the 4 1/2 hour ride to Ithaca NY to visit Louise's daughter Lisa and family. We watched our grandkids for the weekend while Lisa and Ray flew off to an out-of-town wedding, and got to see Issei play mah jong with a group of friends he made a few weeks ago. They come to a bakery each Saturday and spend a few hours nibbling and playing, and when eleven-year-old Issei showed quite some interest in their game, he found himself invited to join them. He's now become a regular. We also got to send them off to school Monday morning, and in the second shot our granddaughter Elise showed us what going to school looks like nowadays for a busy high school freshman.<br />
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When we decided to take Amtrak home from upstate New York, the three nights it would take seemed like a long stretch. So it was no stretch at all to come up with a way to break up the trip. We hopped off in Milwaukee, picked up a rental car, and spent two nights exploring Wisconsin. Part of that was spent doing some short hikes in Glacial Moraine State Park, but the main focus was a visit to the home of Jazz and Cordelia, the good friends who invited us to Vienna 5 years ago. That was the event that prompted our first bike trip to Europe and infected us with a Eurocentric travel bug we haven't gotten over yet.<br />
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For several years now, they have invited a foreign exchange student into their home for a year of high school. This year their additional family member is Shinichiro, their first boy and first Japanese student. Shinichiro brought a <i>yukata</i> as a house present for Zosia, complete with instructions written out by his mom in Japan, but they hadn't attempted a fitting yet. Well, knowing full well that Louise would know something about Japanese women's clothing, they got to work and in short order had Zosia looking quite spiffy. Even her brother Konrad thought she looked quite special. Then, spirited soul that she is, Zosia tried out some moves with her Japanese outfit. We didn't have the heart to tell her that young women in Japan don't exactly do those moves, particularly not when wearing a <i>yukata.</i><br />
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Well, that's it for this year, folks. We're looking forward to yet another trip to Europe next summer, so long as our bodies make it through another winter OK. Thanks for following us in 2018!<br />
<br />Jeff & Louise Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08667329438445463926noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4009287700201166763.post-27235793058733331612018-11-26T20:21:00.000-08:002018-11-26T20:21:02.510-08:00A Quick Stop in Brussels, Then on to Southwestern ScotlandWe wrapped up our biking in Europe for 2018 in our last blog entry with our departure from the Netherlands. In today's entry we'll take you with us for a quick look at the touristy heart of Brussels, then on to Scotland where we poked around Glasgow, New Lanark and Loch Lomond. In the blog entry to follow we'll move on to Edinburgh and Stirling.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cOteTIhgDS0/W_dSnKazkfI/AAAAAAAAWV8/TVjq-UN7OfwGWl4h0MJNAqmtaaWgC-G0ACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1844.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1243" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cOteTIhgDS0/W_dSnKazkfI/AAAAAAAAWV8/TVjq-UN7OfwGWl4h0MJNAqmtaaWgC-G0ACLcBGAs/s400/IMG_1844.JPG" width="310" /></a>We have now visited several renowned cities in Belgium: Bruges, Ghent, Antwerp and Liege among them. Since we needed to change trains in Brussels to get on the Chunnel Train to the UK, we decided to spend an afternoon and evening there to have a little look about Belgium's capital and largest city. There were some wonderful sights, but our overall impression of Brussels was that it was crowded and more worn-out-looking than we expected.<br />
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Our visit was tightly focused on the prime tourist area, which may have led in part to our jaundiced view. We started with the most well-known sight, the statue know as the <i>Manneken Pis.</i> It is quite small and tucked into a corner location 3 blocks from the plaza that is the main focus of the city. But you see reproductions of him everywhere in the souvenir shops that line the streets for blocks around, and also in the chocolate shops, which are nearly as numerous. This leads to some interesting photos when tourists line up for their photos within aim, so to speak, of the little boy.<br />
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If you ask an American to name foods Belgium is famous for, you will probably get chocolate and waffles as your primary responses. (Ask a Hollander and you will almost certainly get <i>frites</i>, what Americans call French Fries, as the response -- but that's another story). And, yes, there are also all sorts of waffle stores, and some that are happy to provide you with chocolate <i>and</i> waffles. You see folks with waffles embellished with all sorts of goodies walking around the tourist center of Brussels.<br />
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The chocolate shops, by the way, have all sorts of ways to draw you in. Not interested in consuming a chocolate version of a bare-bottomed boy? How's about some nuts and bolts? Would you like those wrenches and pliers in milk chocolate or dark?<br />
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0bAGQiOCEhs/W_d5fN4sIuI/AAAAAAAAWXA/LbaL4-zGtpgmWlOv9CDjL2qVE3J59udDQCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1858.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1018" height="640" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0bAGQiOCEhs/W_d5fN4sIuI/AAAAAAAAWXA/LbaL4-zGtpgmWlOv9CDjL2qVE3J59udDQCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_1858.JPG" width="406" /></a>Three blocks north is the <i>Grand Place</i> if you're a Francophone, or the <i>Grote Markt</i> if you choose to speak Flemish or Dutch. In any language it is truly grand. It is on almost every list of the most beautiful public spaces in Europe.<br />
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This square is dominated by the Town Hall, which displays enough statues to populate a town of some size. It has seen much, including the public burning in the square of Protestant heretics in 1523, only 6 years after Luther's posting of the <i>95 Theses.</i> In 1568 the Count of Hoorn and the Count of Egmont were beheaded here, starting the Eighty Years War between the Hapsburgs and the Dutch.<br />
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The Town Hall was a bold display by the city authorities of the power and influence of the city, which was self-governing. To bring them down a notch, the Duke of Brabant, who ruled all the land <i>around </i>the city, had an impressive palace built across the <i>Grote Markt, </i>staring down the Town Hall as it were. It's now the Museum of the City of Brussels. To be more precise, its successor is. The duke's place had been so damaged over the years that it was reconstructed about 150 years ago in Gothic Revival style.<br />
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Flanking it on the north side, and filling in pretty much all the remaining spots on the west, south and east sides of the square, are numerous other grand structures that are collectively referred to as the Guildhalls, since most of them once housed guilds such as those of the weavers, the carpenters, the bakers, the boatmen, the brewers, and the haberdashers. Pat yourself on the back if you are one of the few people left who remembers what a haberdasher is, or does.<br />
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We wandered for several hours, and did come across one pleasant park and a decent example of the sort of Art Nouveau ironwork Brussels is famous for, but without a guidebook we were unable to discover any others. We also encountered a lot of less than edifying streets, a few poorly maintained parks, and quite a bit of urban grime. Picture the less scenic parts of any large city, and you've seen the same. We were simply surprised at how much of it there was. The Germans have a useful word, <i><span style="font-family: inherit;">sehens<span style="background-color: white; white-space: nowrap;">würdig</span></span>,</i> literally "worthy of being seen." Our take on Brussels was that there was not enough that is <i><span style="font-family: inherit;">sehens<span style="background-color: white; white-space: nowrap;">würdig</span></span></i> to warrant a return.<br />
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Part of the logic for the overnight in Brussels was to get an early start the next morning for the UK. The <i>Eurostar</i> train through the Chunnel to London is plenty fast, just over two hours, one of which we "got back" thanks to the time change. But London was only a change of trains, and the <i>next</i> train did not travel at anything close to 300 kph (186 mph). It added nearly 6 hours to our journey, plus the wait for the train. We didn't get in until after 7 pm. </div>
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As we approached the Chunnel (the tunnel between France and England) there were miles of high fences topped with barbed wire and lit up at night by searchlights, all to keep illegal immigrants from hopping on freight trains headed to the UK. </div>
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At St. Pancras Station we stopped to photograph some of the Eurostar trains, and then our own little baggage train. That's it, folks, everything we brought to Europe this summer! The tandem, bike panniers and a few items of clothing are in the two large suitcases, and everything else is in the two backpacks and one small suitcase. The hotel in Glasgow will hold the large suitcases while we travel to a few destinations in Scotland, including a week in Edinburgh. We'll then spend another night at the same hotel in Glasgow before flying back to the states.<br />
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SKWGcGiRshI/W_eeLiiFZzI/AAAAAAAAWZA/5l-QQ6cfZjgj1Yt_20SoFCTss1wWF-1CwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1898.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1176" data-original-width="1600" height="293" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SKWGcGiRshI/W_eeLiiFZzI/AAAAAAAAWZA/5l-QQ6cfZjgj1Yt_20SoFCTss1wWF-1CwCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_1898.JPG" width="400" /></a>Our sightseeing menu for southwestern Scotland was two nights and one full day to see Glasgow, one night and two full days to see Loch Lomond, and about 24 hours to see New Lanark. We'll start with the latter, the one that is least well known to tourists but in many ways the most interesting. It was a mill town built by David Dale in the late 1700s. In 1799 his son-in-law Robert Owen bought it and decided to try running it in a progressive way. Instead of selling shoddy goods and food at exorbitant prices in the factory store, he charged just over wholesale. At a time when children sometimes started working in factories at a young age, he required all children under 12 to attend full-time school. Older children could work in the mill but only for shortened hours, and had to attend school part-time. Comprehensive medical care was provided. Wages were increased. Other mill owners expected him to go bankrupt from his "wasteful" ways, but instead he ran an efficient factory with some of the most loyal employees in the UK. Owen in fact became a wealthy man.<br />
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The factory lasted long after Robert Owen, and later owners were not as inspired, yet the factory continued in operation until 1968. Six years later a non-profit corporation was founded to restore the complex, and today it is a UNESCO World Heritage Site. And a darned attractive spot.<br />
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One of the mill buildings has been converted into a hotel where we spent the night. We slept that night with an open window to hear the gurgle of the mill race carrying water under our building, and of the River Clyde running alongside it.<br />
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And we had much to dream about from our day in New Lanark. Several of the buildings are now run as a museum. In one room machines bounced back and forth apparently spinning cotton. The employee might be listening to music, but more likely is simply protecting his ears from the loud machinery. In another we could see the impressive coal-powered steam engine that was installed in the mid-19th century to power the mill in the event of low water in the Clyde. A diagram shows how this one engine could power every machine on five floors of the adjacent mill building.<br />
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The schoolhouse has been restored, though with fewer benches than it must have had in its heyday. The younger students were here for much of the day, then older children late in the day, and adult classes were offered at night on a voluntary basis. A few times a year they would hold both concerts and dances here, perhaps similar to what you've seen in film dramatizations of Jane Austen novels, but of course with working-class participants -- not quite the strata of society Ms. Austen wrote about.<br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lO_yWoBLdi8/W_esqwfiabI/AAAAAAAAWaA/RwvFdrltZPknOmcrWFbL73BQBWMPIZquwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1949.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1201" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lO_yWoBLdi8/W_esqwfiabI/AAAAAAAAWaA/RwvFdrltZPknOmcrWFbL73BQBWMPIZquwCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_1949.JPG" width="400" /></a>Yet another building had life-sized recreations of laundry day and of sleeping arrangements in the lodgings. Trundle beds were common since the room also functioned as a living room, dining room, and more. Think 'studio apartment for a family of 4 or more.' The former dormitories have been attractively remodeled into apartments in the past few decades, and are now what we refer to in the US as a condominium, i.e. an apartment that one owns. They are popular, and when one comes on the market, we were told, it disappears quickly.<br />
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Above the mill complex are the Falls of Clyde. The four larger ones have a combined total drop of 134 feet (40 m). The water power once ran the mills, but nowadays it provides approximately 17 megawatts of electricity to the Scottish grid from two hydro plants. When we visited there was still enough water running over the falls to impress us, as they have impressed many others before us, including Wordsworth, Coleridge, Sir Walter Scott, and the painter J.M.W. Turner.<br />
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zFArdnbXg4g/W_jKN1IjqjI/AAAAAAAAWbA/gOYWLauz4WoKlxKO_0URStYWAhrb5ZxOQCLcBGAs/s1600/Loch%2BLomond.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="604" data-original-width="320" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zFArdnbXg4g/W_jKN1IjqjI/AAAAAAAAWbA/gOYWLauz4WoKlxKO_0URStYWAhrb5ZxOQCLcBGAs/s640/Loch%2BLomond.png" width="337" /></a>Our next destination was Loch Lomond, a 22-mile long lake that is a bit over an hour's train ride NW from Glasgow. The train brought us to the town of Balloch at the bottom of the lake, where the River Leven drains the lake into the nearby River Clyde. Our boat was waiting on the bank of the Leven to take us on a one-hour ride up the lake to the heritage village of Luss, where the boat icon is located on the map to the right. It was exceptionally scenic, and the captain pointed out several interesting mansions along the way. One of them, the luxurious Cameron House Hotel, is now rebuilding after a terrible fire the week before Christmas, 2017, in which two of the hotel guests died. The cause is still unknown.<br />
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Across the water in the distance loomed Ben Lomond, poking up almost 3,200 feet above us, its summit shrouded in the clouds. Houses along the shoreline petered out quickly as we left Balloch, and the valleys rising to the west were stark as they climbed away from the lake and the thin ribbon of trees alongside it.<br />
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Beneath us was an unseen boundary, the Highland Fault that marks the division between the Lowlands to the south and the famous Scottish Highlands to the north. Nature has made the Highlands ruggedly beautiful, but they have never been an easy place to live in thanks to the thin soil and hard winters. The line itself runs NE and SW, pretty much under the town of Balmaha and the larger islands in the southern end of Loch Lomond. The two mansions in the photos above are just south of the fault, the valley in the last photo clearly above it.<br />
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Our boat wove its way through these pretty islands. On one, a boating party was enjoying a pleasant picnic.<br />
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A week later, when visiting the Scottish National Gallery, we encountered a painting done in 1810 by John Knox that captures the grandeur of Loch Lomond and the Scottish Highlands. The area we explored by boat is behind and to the left of the man on the crag in the middle distance, and the town of Luss we were headed to pretty much where he is pointing with his outstretched arm. As you can see, there's a lot more to the lake that we did not get to. And then there's what's down below. Courtesy of the British Geological Survey, the second photo is a computer recreation of what the lake would look like with the water removed from the deepest part, which is about 500 feet down, similar to the depth of some of the larger Finger Lakes in upstate New York.<br />
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The town of Luss was charming. Many of the flower-bedecked houses were built for workers in a slate quarry outside town. The church claims to have been founded by Saint Kessog 1,508 years ago, although the church structure there now is just under 150 years old. It's estimated that 750,000 people visit the church in a year, even though the parish only numbers 400 souls. The churchyard includes one hogback stone that is estimated to be from the 11th century, when Vikings ruled this area.<br />
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After exploring the small town we headed up a road that rises into the hills to the west. After an hour of climbing we had not yet reached the end of the road, but decided we'd gotten a good feel for the countryside. We had passed only two houses, and seen two or three others in the distance.<br />
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When we were almost back we saw a path off the the right that had been upgraded from just a village walkway into the town Faerie Trail. We didn't have the guidebook and probably missed some of the nuances of faerie life it no doubt explains, but we did enjoy viewing the charming faerie houses along the way. So bewitched had we been by the town, the valley climb and the faerie walk that we ended up hiking ten miles, and were most happy to see our cozy room at the Loch Lomond Arms that evening.<br />
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The next morning we of course had the standard "full English breakfast" of bangers (sausages), scrambled eggs, fried tomato, beans and toast. However, we were in <i>Scotland</i>, so of course we also had the option (politely declined, thank you) of having haggis. We then walked the full length of town -- all 0.2 miles of it according to Google -- to the town pier for another boat ride, this time across Loch Lomond to Balmaha on the eastern side. Ben Lomond finally shed the cloudy cap it had worn the day before. Ahead of us was a conical hill named -- surprise, surprise -- Conic Hill. It marks the Highland Fault as it rises northeasterly out of the lake. <br />
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Heading north along the lake is one of the UK's many great walking routes, the West Highland Way. Parts of it are quite rugged, but in this area it hugs the shore and provided us with yet more views of this scenic place before we caught a bus back to Glasgow.<br />
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When we first decided to visit Scotland for 2 weeks, we knew we had to have a limited itinerary. We also wanted to see at least one place in detail, and the consensus of travel books and friends both was that Edinburgh was that one place where we ought to plant ourselves down for a while. In our next blog entry we'll describe our week there, in fact. </div>
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But Glasgow seemed like a logical place to poke about as well, particularly since the largest airport in Scotland is there. Most guidebooks downplayed Glasgow, and after one full and one partial day there, we agree. There are some good museums and a smattering of historical sights to see, and we by no means saw them all, but the city itself did not impress us. It is somewhat haphazardly organized, a bit spread out, and frankly rather grimy thanks to centuries of coal smoke from its homes and industries that has darkened the limestone buildings that are so common. Some stones do much worse than others, as you can see from this view of the Necropolis, a renowned cemetery on a hill next to the cathedral. Unfortunately, many buildings throughout Glasgow also have turned as dark and foreboding as the worst of the headstones in this view. The Glasgow cathedral, seen from the Necropolis in the second photo, is streaked in black as some of the stone has fared more poorly than other parts. Nearby buildings are not as bad, but not beautiful either.</div>
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The cathedral was the most interesting building we explored. In a side aisle there was a small exhibit of famous buildings done in Lego blocks. This is obviously the Lego version of the London Bridge.</div>
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Another building we had looked forward to visiting was the Glasgow School of Art, widely considered to be the masterpiece of Scottish architect Charles Rennie Mackintosh. Sadly, it too had a recent fire, this one in June of this year, while we were biking around the Netherlands. The damage is so extensive that the cause may never be known. The school has announced plans to completely rebuild it, but that will take anywhere from four to seven years. Stay tuned for that one.</div>
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Another of his masterpieces, considered his best residential work, is known as Hill House. It's not in Glasgow, but a Glasgow gallery had two rooms from Hill House on display while the house itself is undergoing extensive conservation work. The first two photos are the rooms, designed both by Mackintosh and by his artist wife, Margaret Macdonald. As the Hill House website remarks, the design is "an arresting mix of Arts & Crafts, Art Nouveau, Scottish Baronial and Japonisme architecture and design." It certainly appealed to us. The third photo (from the web) is an artist's rendition of the controversial 'box' being built around the house to protect it from the elements that have been wreaking havoc with the facade and to a lesser degree the interiors. It is expected to be complete in mid-2019.</div>
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In 1603, when the Tudor Queen Elizabeth died "without issue," the English turned to her first cousin, James Stuart, King James VI of Scotland. He then took on a second title, James I of Great Britain and Ireland. In short, a Scot became king of all the British Isles. The Stuart monarchy however had its own legacy issues, with Queen Anne leaving no heirs when <i>she </i>died in 1714. There was still a Stuart around, King James II, but he had become a Catholic and been ousted in the Glorious Revolution of 1688, so the Brits had to look to a new <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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family. Up popped George I, Elector of Hanover, who was Anne's closest Protestant relative. Poof, no more Scottish blood on the throne of Great Britain. </div>
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Jump a century to 1822. The Hanoverians were now up to George IV, who assumed the throne in 1821. He decided to visit Scotland to build some support for the monarchy there. The intervening century had not done much to assuage the Scots that the British monarchy was also their monarchy. The king had met Sir Walter Scott some years earlier, and Scott had suggested the visit, and proposed that the king appear wearing a Scottish outfit. The king spent 'a king's ransom,' the current-day equivalent of over $100,000, on an outfit he hoped would wow the crowds. It did. The visit turned into a great success for George.</div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BRdnn5XpY58/W_zDW9PaY6I/AAAAAAAAWhE/dZRAP09swQM7t7zHvxvew3kWfn6bINE3wCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2397.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1105" height="400" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BRdnn5XpY58/W_zDW9PaY6I/AAAAAAAAWhE/dZRAP09swQM7t7zHvxvew3kWfn6bINE3wCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_2397.JPG" width="276" /></a>His niece, Queen Victoria, took over the throne 15 years later. She actually visited Scotland quite often, and took to dressing her daughters in tartan dresses as well. The Kelvingrove Art Museum in Glasgow displays today a silk tartan dress made in the 1860s and inspired by Queen Victoria's fashion choice. The young girl and/or her parents liked it so much on her, as you can see, that they added more material to it when she grew taller. The irony in all this is that tartans had fallen out of fashion in the 1700s until Sir Walter Scott seized on them as a way of creating nostalgia for a Scotland that might never have truly existed except in his colorful novels. And despite all the chatter about which clan wore which tartan, almost all of that is a 19th century "tradition" made up to boost sales. </div>
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And with that, we'll pause for today and move on to Edinburgh in our next blog entry. </div>
Jeff & Louise Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08667329438445463926noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4009287700201166763.post-50594179013895460702018-09-14T15:12:00.000-07:002018-09-14T15:12:46.328-07:00Back to the Netherlands and Two Visits With Our Dutch FriendsIt's been a while since our last blog post because we've been so busy. Sorry about that. In today's post we'll bring you up to speed on our final two weeks in the Netherlands, part of it on our own and part of it spent in two 3-day weekends with our tandem friends Nico and Marga.<br />
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We left Bruges on a gorgeous canal trail that followed the route trade used to take to reach the city. Over time it became shallower and harder to navigate from sediment at the same time that trading ships were getting bigger and deeper, and Bruges lost its preeminence as a trading city. In the long run that was arguably a good thing because the city remained a museum piece, and it's now one of the hottest tourist destinations in Europe. But the residents at the time of that decline almost certainly didn't think much of the short term effect.<br />
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aGHYbDdIKVs/W5q9zmBlzfI/AAAAAAAAWMI/tsjcVymMnZUsX-WsVIc8ooJRbl2mT0CngCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1694.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1201" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aGHYbDdIKVs/W5q9zmBlzfI/AAAAAAAAWMI/tsjcVymMnZUsX-WsVIc8ooJRbl2mT0CngCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_1694.JPG" width="400" /></a>In one of the cities we passed through we encountered a <i>Kermis</i>. The word is derived from the Dutch for 'church mass,' a festival a town in the late Middle Ages might have on the feast day of the saint the church was named for. But since it was a celebration, various fun activities were also organized.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-G9FqYMcev1Y/W5q93yPv3kI/AAAAAAAAWMM/TuUCFEVPqeg02f1xHQpjxoubvoJjDkp8ACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1696.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1224" data-original-width="1600" height="305" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-G9FqYMcev1Y/W5q93yPv3kI/AAAAAAAAWMM/TuUCFEVPqeg02f1xHQpjxoubvoJjDkp8ACLcBGAs/s400/IMG_1696.JPG" width="400" /></a>Today there is zero religious connection, and a <i>Kermis</i> is simply a carnival festival usually held for 4-5 days once a year, although larger cities might have a <i>Kermis</i> for longer or even have two in a year. They're kind of corny and hokey, but for kids, they're an event that is much anticipated as the traditional week approaches. We've run into over half a dozen in the course of our five summers of poking around the Netherlands, and decided it was time to throw into the blog a few photos of a more-or-less average one to show you an aspect of Dutch culture that rarely gets noticed by tourists.<br />
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Come back to this square a few days later and it will have lost all its magic and reverted to the way it looked before the <i>Kermis</i>, and will continue to look like for another 51 weeks. As for all the rides, they're probably not too many kilometers away, in yet another town or city having its own special weekend.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_go-CG1CaE8/W5rJmKFb6DI/AAAAAAAAWM0/na4QnMplibYx6sQvltijhX2hI4zyP_9wQCLcBGAs/s1600/Zeeland%2Bmap.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1302" data-original-width="1113" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_go-CG1CaE8/W5rJmKFb6DI/AAAAAAAAWM0/na4QnMplibYx6sQvltijhX2hI4zyP_9wQCLcBGAs/s400/Zeeland%2Bmap.png" width="341" /></a>We were on our way to meet our Dutch friends in the city of Middelburg, but we had two places to visit before that. The first was the town of Colijnsplaat. It is not on anyone's list of tourist destinations, not even a Dutch person's, but it was special for us because of its name, which it shares with our good friend Thyce Colyn since "ij" and "y" are to some extent interchangeable in Dutch names, particularly over time as one or the other form has gained or lost popularity. In fact the Dutch Prime Minister in the 1920s and '30s was named Hendrikus Colijn, and Thyce Colyn has told us that he's heard in family lore that he is somehow related to this illustrious ancestor.<br />
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Colijnsplaat nowadays is known to most Dutch travelers as the western anchor of the Zeeland Bridge, a 3-mile (5-km) long bridge that helps keep the province of Zeeland (marked in red to the right) connected, made up as it is of many large islands and one large slice of mainland that would otherwise be part of Belgium. For a few years after it opened in 1965, the bridge was Europe's longest. Like almost all bridges in the Netherlands, it has a bike path, though we didn't choose to take it, at least not this year. Wrong direction.<br />
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Like all good towns in the Netherlands, Colijnsplaat has an old windmill. In fact, it has an "Old Windmill" from 1727 and a "New Windmill," built in 1864.<br />
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TEKQPCT70oM/W5rMRiH9dyI/AAAAAAAAWNY/08Kaz7IkEg0-xnSlbzb3RrKdp6QnYulNwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1721.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1010" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TEKQPCT70oM/W5rMRiH9dyI/AAAAAAAAWNY/08Kaz7IkEg0-xnSlbzb3RrKdp6QnYulNwCLcBGAs/s320/IMG_1721.JPG" width="202" /></a>Colijnsplaat has an extensive harbor, said to hold 500 boats. One of the boats will take you out searching for harbor seals on a 2 1/2 hour tour for only 12 euros.<br />
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A large dike protects the town today. In the second photo below you can see a sign on the dike advertising the town's annual festival that celebrate's its Celtic past. As you can see, it's a pretty good-sized dike. The third photo shows how the road today now gently climbs up and over the dike. In 1953 the dike was not as high and the route from the harbor to the town passed <i>through </i>the dike at a gate, not over it. When high water was expected, heavy wooden beams were lowered in slots on each side of the gate to close off the opening.<br />
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When the water rose on January 31, 1953, however, it was no ordinary event. All over Zeeland Province and even beyond, alarms went out shortly after midnight that there was a serious danger. Summoned by sirens, phone calls, even visits by the town crier (yes, they still had such a person) going door-to-door, a group of the strongest men in Colijnsplaat assembled at the wooden barrier. The water was already more than half-way up the height of the barrier on the ocean side, but the risk was not the water pressing against the barrier but the waves than occasionally smacked with great force into the wooden beams. The police chief and mayor were afraid a large wave might crack the barrier, in which case the North Sea would come gushing down the main street, wiping out every person and house in its way.<br />
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When a lookout spotted a wave coming, the men leaned with all their weight, and another 3 rows of men leaned against the ones next to the barrier. This was no boy with his finger in the dike, it was brute force against brute force. Again and again the barrier held, but the men were in grave danger, and near exhaustion. Then what could have been a catastrophe morphed into a miracle that saved them and the town. A large ship broke free from its moorings and crashed sideways against the dike, missing the gate but creating instead a breakwater directly in front of the gate. This miraculous barrier robbed the oncoming waves of their energy. The gate was no longer being pounded, and it survived the crisis.<br />
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Elsewhere in the Netherlands over 1,800 people and over 50,000 farm animals died, 10,000 buildings were destroyed, and another 37,000 damaged. It remains the worst natural disaster in the Netherlands in the past century. Next to the harbor in Colijnsplaat was the memorial to its escape from danger, thankfully not a memorial to scores of victims like so many other Dutch towns have put up.<br />
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It wasn't meal time so we didn't check out the main restaurant in town and instead followed the cyclists down the main street leading away from the harbor, wiggled through town and found the bike path at the edge of town that began our route back to our hotel.<br />
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Our next destination on the way to Middelburg was the ancient city of Veere. It dates to the 1200s when a ferry began operating there, hence the name ("Ferry" in Dutch). From the mid-15th century to the end of the 18th century, roughly 260 years, it was the main port for trade between Scotland and the Netherlands. You get a sense of the prosperity that brought as you approach town and see the size of the <i>Groote Kerk.</i> Here, we're viewing it from a set of locks that a group of boats have just left, headed for the open water.<br />
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There is a Scout center nearby and we saw a large group of German Scouts hanging out in town, plus many other tourists. On the web it's claimed that the town attracts 4 million visitors a year. Given the activity in the harbor, a good number of those might well be by boat.<br />
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It's easy to see why Veere is popular, given the water views, the cannons (one of which appears ready to deal with the seagull population), and the quaint buildings.<br />
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At last we reached Middelburg and connected up with Nico and Marga. Three weeks earlier this seemed like an unlikely event, even though it had been planned 6 months earlier, as Nico had taken a detour to the hospital. But he was mostly recovered and eager to get back on their tandem. So we cut the speed a little, cut the miles a little, and had three great days of riding.</div>
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Our base was the provincial capital, Middelburg, but we had done the tourist routine 4 years earlier so this time we focused on riding out to and along the coast. We rode south to the city of Vlissingen, or "Flushing" as British sailors and merchants have called it for centuries. It lies at the mouth of the Scheldt Estuary that connects Antwerp with the North Sea, and as a result it found itself deeply involved in fighting in late 1944. In June of that year the Allies had landed in Normandy and fought their way across France and Belgium to Antwerp. They desperately needed the port of Antwerp as a place to offload the enormous amount of food, ammunition and other supplies the troops needed as they pushed on toward Germany.</div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-I67gdN273EY/W5vDY6To9OI/AAAAAAAAWQI/Y3OTzY52080SQrSg8VzEJLv7X4jX2qM0wCLcBGAs/s1600/Battle%2Bof%2Bthe%2BScheldt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="476" data-original-width="652" height="291" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-I67gdN273EY/W5vDY6To9OI/AAAAAAAAWQI/Y3OTzY52080SQrSg8VzEJLv7X4jX2qM0wCLcBGAs/s400/Battle%2Bof%2Bthe%2BScheldt.jpg" width="400" /></a>However, the Germans had fortified both sides of the Scheldt Estuary, and were not about to leave. A statue in the Vlissingen harbor is dedicated to the Canadian, British and Polish troops that ultimately seized the territory from the Germans. Nearby was a rare surviving example of a <i>Biber</i> ("beaver") submarine, a midget sub the Germans developed late in the war for coastal defense. It looks like a fearsome weapon, a 1-man sub with two powerful torpedoes. In fact, it wasn't. It had a variety of design shortcomings, the training for the submarine operators was far too short, and the operators sank more of each other (11 in one accident, 14 in another!) than they did of the Allies. The 324 <i>Biber </i>deployed in the Scheldt area sunk a grand total of one Allied ship, all of whose sailors were rescued.</div>
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Happily, the rest of the coast rides focused on the sea, and only that. In the first shot we're looking SW to the distant coast of Belgium. It's an odd shoreline but a common one in the Netherlands, since the dike is essential to keeping the North Sea out of the low-lying fields and towns that abut it, and the asphalt topping on the seaward side of the dike helps keep it from being washed away in a storm.</div>
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The last photo illustrates what a Dutch town does when its church is destroyed in war, in this case during the 80-Year War of Dutch independence in the 1600s. The tower remained, and it began to be used as a lighthouse, with a proper lighthouse tower added in 1852. You can also infer from this photo and the ones that precede it that the elevation of the town is pretty darned close to sea level.</div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WshJayAOEPU/W5vZ4j59ntI/AAAAAAAAWRU/XCAPWfBUkn4-GbsB_c35yNv6fBEsgbplgCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1764.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WshJayAOEPU/W5vZ4j59ntI/AAAAAAAAWRU/XCAPWfBUkn4-GbsB_c35yNv6fBEsgbplgCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_1764.JPG" width="400" /></a>The wind, incidentally, was a little bit of an issue. It was 15-18 mph (24-30 kph) each day, and came from the SW each of the days we were there. We arranged each ride to be generally northward while along the shore, where we were fully exposed to the wind. Luckily the locals are quite aware of how strong the wind is here, so close to the North Sea, and the inland routes are often buried in vegetation. That was the theory, and in practice it did in fact work out that a large part of our riding "against the wind" was in fact somewhat sheltered from it. That said, given that we did not have our panniers on the bike for these rides, it would have taken a far stronger wind to seriously interfere with our rides. A slightly bigger impediment to our riding was our first mechanical issue of the summer, a broken spoke. Of course it was on the rear wheel, which is more of a nuisance since you have to deal with the greasy chain. But messiness aside, it's not a big deal for Jeff to replace a broken spoke, little different in time or difficulty than fixing a flat tire.</div>
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We were now down to the last week of our trip. The plan was for 4 days of riding on our own (Nico and Marga had headed back home by car), then three days staying with them in their home 30 km south of Rotterdam. We decided to get to know two more islands in this corner of the Netherlands, Schouwen-Duiveland and Goeree-Overflakee, as we made our way toward our friends' home. In both cases we found a hotel for two nights, which meant that for each island we had a day of riding without panniers.<br />
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On the way to our first island we went past the Delta Project, an enormous flood barrier meant to avoid another disaster like the one in 1953. The initial plan was to seal off much of Zeeland from the North Sea, but environmentalists convinced the government that that would be a biological disaster, and it was re-engineered to be a barrier that only comes down when a storm surge threatens to batter the coast. The water inland from the project continues to rise and fall normally with the tides, and the consensus seems to be that the Delta Project has provided adequate protection with minimal environmental damage.<br />
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For our first two nights we had a hotel room that overlooked the quaint harbor of Brouwershaven, once busy with boats importing beer from Delft, but now limited to pleasure craft. On our pannier-less ride the next day we visited a nearby city with a very different look, Zierikzee, whose castellated city gate was most impressive.<br />
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That ride also took us on a number of wonderful bike paths along the island coast. In the second photo you can see a field of red up ahead. What was that, we wondered as we approached it. When we got up close we discovered it was a bountiful harvest of red onions that were drying out in the sun before being packed up for the supermarkets of Europe. A little further on were strips of brilliant color, similar to the tulip fields of the Netherlands or of the Skagit Valley in Washington State, near our home in Seattle. But tulips bloom in April, and this was August. On closer inspection we decided we had come upon a gladiolus farm.<br />
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Our second island was a study in contrasts. The far western end had a complex of beaches and dunes protected as part of a national park. A viewing platform gave us a high spot to look down at the paved trail from the southwest and the unpaved hardpack that continues the route through the dunes to the northeast. Directly north across the water is an industrial park at the mouth of the Rhine.<br />
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Elsewhere, even close to the water behind the dikes, the island was overwhelmingly agricultural. Breaking up the open spaces were seemingly endless straight lines of trees marking ruler-straight roads. Most of these were relatively low-traffic roads that were great for cycling. The one busy road thankfully had a bike trail parallel to the road and a very safe distance from the fast-moving traffic.<br />
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We encountered another great Dutch institution, the weekly market. Many are quite similar to the sorts of farmers markets we have in the U.S., with lots of fresh local produce and perhaps a few local craftspeople. But in many towns, especially smaller ones, there are other merchants who sell things like shirts, underwear, craft supplies, hardware, buttons and sewing notions, exotic herbs and spices, and much more. In fact we bought a birthday greeting card from the one in the second photo. It may end up being the only birthday card that grandchild <i>ever</i> gets that's written in Dutch. In any event, these traveling stores fill a useful niche, and bring these sorts of goods close to small-town residents as a healthy alternative to having to drive great distances to big stores in far-off big cities.<br />
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Another great Dutch institution of course is the canal. There are thousands of canals of all sizes in this little country. We thought after 5 summers of biking here that we'd seen pretty much every way of crossing a canal -- but we were wrong. We came to a spot where boats enter and exit through a narrow passage connecting the open water and a small harbor. There is a gate similar to that on a lock that can be swung closed in the event of a storm surge or exceptionally high high tide. Otherwise boats can freely enter and exit. But it was decided to have a <i>Knoopunt</i> bike route cross the opening. How to do this? The answer is a bridge that slides out on demand. A cyclist who arrives when the bridge is retracted simply presses a button and waits a minute for the "traffic signal" for boats to go from green to red. Then the walkway slides its way across the opening. A few minutes later an alarm bell goes off, guard gates descend, and the bridge slowly retracts to allow boat traffic to resume.<br />
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We reached Nico and Marga's on day 85 of our European adventure. We hoped to get in two days of biking with them, but after an incredibly dry summer, we found ourselves having to wait out a full day of rain. Instead we played the card game "Oh Hell" using Nico's braille-marked deck of cards, and as usual Nico beat the pants off us sighted players. The weather improved in the evening and we went over to their son's place, a century-old home that their son and daughter-in-law are slowly but surely renovating. We got the grand tour, and at one point Jakobus clambered over the scaffolding to show us the original stone tiles on the roof. He explained that they're so heavy that they're not fastened down, which actually helps let air get under them to dry out any moisture that gets past the tiles in a rain storm.<br />
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The next day the weather stayed dry, and we got in our bike ride past the sugar beet factory where Nico used to work as their accountant and record-keeper, with the help of computers that could read for him. It closed almost a decade ago, and all that's left behind him is the smokestack. His office used to be right behind his right shoulder, where there's now a layer of broken bricks. There have been discussions, but no one has been able to come up with a plan for the land that satisfies the sugar beet company and the local government.<br />
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On Sunday morning we got to see Dutch formal bike attire as Nico and Marga left for church. The small case slung over Nico's shoulder is his braille keyboard. He programs in the text for each Sunday's hymns, and then he can read the words and sing along with the rest of the congregation as <i>they</i> hold their hymn books.<br />
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With that, our summer's biking was over. As we packed up the bike we checked the bike computer -- 2,980 kilometers. We originally thought we'd do a little over 2,600 km, but near the end got excited about the possibility of hitting 3,000, as we did two years ago, but it was not to be. Nonetheless it translates to 1,850 miles. Not bad for a couple of 70-somethings! We stayed off the bike 25% of our days, and for the days we did bike we went anywhere from 6 km to 72 km (45 mi.), averaging just over 45 km (28 miles) per day of actual riding.<br />
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But this is <i>not</i> the end of our trip, only that of our wonderful tandem, Little Red! From here we head to Brussels for one day, then Scotland for two weeks and one more week and a half to work our way from New York City back to Seattle via family and friends along the way. Those stories will hopefully soon follow.</div>
Jeff & Louise Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08667329438445463926noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4009287700201166763.post-48534394341714165212018-08-13T13:58:00.000-07:002018-08-13T13:58:22.873-07:00Back to the Netherlands, but Then a Quick Transition to the Belgian CoastAfter five weeks biking in Germany, we left Hannover by train headed for the Netherlands. The train trip itself was easy-peasy since we took Regional Express trains, which had generous space for bicycles on both legs of the trip.<div>
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It was nice to be back on the roads and bike trails of the Netherlands. For the most part. But we found that this eastern part of the country has more unpaved trails than we're used to in the Netherlands. This was exacerbated when we decided to route ourselves through some of the national parks, where paved paths were the exception, not the rule. With our wide tires (we're using 20 x 1.85 Schwalbe Marathon Pluses) we had good traction, but Jeff has to stay alert for possible soft sandy spots that could be tricky for our tandem given all the weight of us and our luggage. As it turned out we made it through just fine, of course on the paved roads before we reached the national parks but also on some of the rougher park paths.</div>
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A far bigger issue than the road surfaces was the weather. We have had an exceptionally dry summer here in Europe. In June and July combined we have stayed put due to rain only three times, and dodged showers maybe once or twice more. In the agricultural areas we are starting to see corn that is so dried out it might not be worth harvesting.</div>
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For most of this time the temperatures have been cool and comfortable. But this started to change in mid-July, and our last few days in Germany and our first days back in the Netherlands have seen temperatures hitting 30 to 36 C (high 80s to mid-90s F) every day. In the national park outside Apeldoorn it looked drier each day, and sometimes we even found Fall-like colors.</div>
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That sign, by the way, is telling cyclists to pay attention, they're about to go over a cattle guard. A set of bars like this is called a <i>rooster</i>, which translates in English as a "roaster," a grill you would roast meet on. Usually they're only called a <i>rooster,</i> but this one specifies it's to control cows. More common in park lands is a <i>wild rooster,</i> to control wildlife such as deer or wild boars.</div>
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August is the ideal time to ride through the Netherlands' many heathlands, but between the dryness and the fact that it's now only the first of August, this one photo probably overstates the look -- most of it has yet to burst into the blankets of intense color heather is famed for.</div>
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Air-conditioning is not overly common in Dutch hotels, particularly in the type of older, smaller and less ritzy ones we steer toward. But for three days we sought and found hotels with A/C and were able to get some sleep. That was the good news. The bad news was that the weather was not getting better, and looked like it might even get hotter. A quick search of weather forecasts, particularly near the North Sea, disclosed that the Belgian coast was not as crazy hot, and was expected to cool down sooner, than the center of the Netherlands we had been heading toward. Jeff put his computer skills to work and found that a combination of trains and a little biking could get us there before the next big heat wave arrived, and that it would crest at "only" 90 F there vs. 94-96 where we had planned to be.</div>
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Step 1 was to bike to Nijmegen. We had wanted to visit it in 2015 but discovered, just in time, that we would have been arriving at the time of the <i>Vierdaagse</i>, a 4-day event in which participants walk, for each of the 4 days, either 30, 40 or 50 km. That year, 42,700 were at the starting line on day 1. Obviously, we were <i>not</i> going to find lodging within 100 km of Nijmegen that year! This year, however, it was over and done with, and 41,000 of the 44,000 starters made it to the last kilometer on the last day. Off to Nijmegen it was, and a special visit it would be for us since we would get to see a very special sight, the <i>Snelbinder</i> bike bridge.</div>
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The <i>Snelbinder</i> is one of the Netherlands' world-class pieces of bike infrastructure. It should be at the price paid for it, <span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">€</span>40 million, or $50 million at the exchange rate when it was completed in 2004. It provided the first safe crossing for cyclists of the Waal River. It is not an independent bridge, but rather an appendage hung off the east side of a railroad bridge that was built in 1879. Because the railroad bridge is quite high, long ramps were needed on both ends of the <i>Snelbinder,</i> making the whole thing 2 km long. The odd name, by the way, is a play on words. It literally means "quick connector," but is also the nickname for an elastic bungee cord that cyclists commonly use in the Netherlands.</div>
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European trains are very bike-friendly, but not necessarily <i>tandem-</i>friendly, and the best way to avoid problems is to take local trains, with as few connections as possible. We worked it out to move 100 km westward by train in the morning, then 40 km by bike in the afternoon. It reached the high 80s but the ride was easy. It was even drier than places further west, as you can see in this pitiful corn crop that will no doubt be simply plowed under, as there wasn't a corn cob to be seen, only parched leaves and stems.</div>
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uU56uN34geQ/W3GIe5FPuSI/AAAAAAAAWCA/AJiC6ilZuWkwmSV3Fm-U0weHnN5DeHG3QCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2792.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uU56uN34geQ/W3GIe5FPuSI/AAAAAAAAWCA/AJiC6ilZuWkwmSV3Fm-U0weHnN5DeHG3QCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_2792.JPG" width="400" /></a>By happy chance, our Swiss friends Yannick and Romaine and their cute kids Ilias and Layna were staying close by and they were able to drive over for dinner and provide us with an opportunity to reconnect. After dinner the kids "tried out" our tandem. Hmmm, think we need a few more years for those feet to hit the pedals.</div>
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The next day we rode 55 km to Antwerp, Belgium. We have yet another friend who lives there, so we sent her an email as soon as our plans had coalesced two days earlier. Good luck again, she was arriving back in Antwerp that evening from a few days in London, and we pulled off dinner together at a restaurant convenient both to her train and to our hotel. Riet is the biggest bibliophile we know, so much of dinner was an extended conversation about great books we've all been reading lately. She has a large advantage on us -- we're stuck only reading English, whereas Riet will read books in Dutch, French, English, whatever she can get her hands on.</div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JFGI_Nmoy4o/W3GLzNfJokI/AAAAAAAAWCY/ppnxda_hIvo0B6yrF5Mz6vetnt1NZymGACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1525.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JFGI_Nmoy4o/W3GLzNfJokI/AAAAAAAAWCY/ppnxda_hIvo0B6yrF5Mz6vetnt1NZymGACLcBGAs/s640/IMG_1525.JPG" width="480" /></a>The final part of our jump to the North Sea was a 125 km train ride from Antwerp to the coastal town of Oostende (<i>aka</i> Ostend). We had an elegant send-off from the Antwerpen- Centraal Station, one of the most elegant train stations we've ever used.</div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WD9kaQmk1ss/W3GN1y87f9I/AAAAAAAAWC4/wr84_YGVIAoSQpYcaBhr9a03b-Xj-hPYACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1532.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="953" data-original-width="1600" height="235" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WD9kaQmk1ss/W3GN1y87f9I/AAAAAAAAWC4/wr84_YGVIAoSQpYcaBhr9a03b-Xj-hPYACLcBGAs/s400/IMG_1532.JPG" width="400" /></a>Once again, getting the tandem a spot on the train proved to be easy. The train also amused us with a lighthearted way of encouraging passengers to give up seats for the handicapped: "Sweet of you, Louise. And of everyone else who gives up a seat to those who need one." Since this is a Belgian train, of course it is in both French and in Flemish.</div>
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Oostende is at the mid-point of the Belgian seacoast. From the end of a breakwater we looked north to a shore with its natural sand dunes largely intact. We came back in two days to ride that way, but first we pointed the bike south 45 km to the coastal city of De Panne and the small city of Veurne some 6 km inland, where our lodgings were. This was another matter altogether!!! This is about as <i>un</i>-natural as a shore can get!</div>
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35 of our 45 km were along the shore, and 25 of <i>those</i> 35 km were just like these next two photos, km after km, 10-story apartment building after apartment building, cafe after cafe:</div>
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As you can see from the second photo, this is an official bike route. The biking was odd. There is rarely a designated lane for bikes, so we just swung right or left to spots where there were openings in the crowds, trying to stay especially far from kids on rental bikes and adults in 4-wheeled pedal-powered beach buggies, both of whom tended to be fairly unpredictable. There was one extended break where development was barred by the need to preserve a dark part of the coast's history, the <i>Atlantik Wall</i> defenses built by the Germans in WW II to prevent the Allies from landing there. Zipping by at 30 kph is a trolley that goes the full length of the coast, about 75 km, helping keep the car traffic from overwhelming the place.</div>
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zq7rpuR6epU/W3GWjfj_Q4I/AAAAAAAAWEI/Z4jJgjNE-QYKkKwCrnyNUKUw4ZxpVmpQQCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1543.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zq7rpuR6epU/W3GWjfj_Q4I/AAAAAAAAWEI/Z4jJgjNE-QYKkKwCrnyNUKUw4ZxpVmpQQCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_1543.JPG" width="480" /></a>We were initially disappointed that we couldn't find a hotel vacancy in De Panne, the last city on the Belgian coast before you reach France, nor anywhere else for that matter between Oostende and De Panne. However the small city of Veurne proved to be more interesting, since it had some real history and a well-used town square. It seems that one Robert II of Flanders was returning from the Crusades in 1099 when his ship was hit by an enormous storm. He made an oath that if he survived, he would donate to the first church he saw the precious cargo he was bringing back (like all good Crusaders): a piece of the True Cross. He survived and spotted the church of St. Walburga in Veurne, which then became a destination for all sorts of pilgrims. All that prosperity led to a first class city square, which we enjoyed viewing while having dinner that evening.</div>
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The next day we had, for us, a rare treat -- a bike ride without panniers. Since this part of Belgium is as flat as most of the Netherlands, the difference in weight doesn't make that much of a difference other than that it's easier to accelerate. The major change is in wind resistance, since there's nothing sticking out a foot on either side of the bike catching the wind. Going downwind of course isn't much different, but a cross wind or head wind is <i>sooo</i> much easier to bike against on an unloaded tandem.</div>
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Our destination was the peaceful river behind Little Red, the IJser River. From late summer 1914 to the Fall of 1918 it was anything but peaceful. As the German Army marched across Belgium on its way to attack France in August 2014, the Belgian Army flooded the IJser and made a last stand. It held. And once the German advance was stalled, it was unable to get going again. Trenches filled with troops lined both sides of the unfortunate river. Cities and town along or within artillery range of the enemy were so devastated some of them could only be identified after the war by map, not by their now-atomized remains.</div>
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One particular stretch of the river was especially hard-fought over, and became known as the <i>Moordgang</i>, or Trench of Death. It was preserved shortly after the war by replacing the sandbags with cement replicas. For a modest fee we were able to wander through and to view occasional photos taken a century ago on the very same spots where we now stood. Jeff was particularly glad he didn't have to be there then, since he's at least 6 inches <i>higher</i> than the sandbags, not 6 inches <i>lower</i> as one would hope to be.</div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CY95PJVoSG4/W3Ge5x12ttI/AAAAAAAAWF4/IaW_dWsG0QAqCHgFnYHAGgx0Zcgj0-1yQCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1560.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="613" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CY95PJVoSG4/W3Ge5x12ttI/AAAAAAAAWF4/IaW_dWsG0QAqCHgFnYHAGgx0Zcgj0-1yQCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_1560.JPG" width="152" /></a>A small museum contained ghostly articles of war recovered from the scene and a good example of a periscope used by soldiers who were understandably reluctant to peer over the top of the trenches to see what the enemy was up to. There was also a helpful map. The Germans wanted to go where the green arrows point, until fate intervened. Where we were was roughly the midpoint of the small Belgian sector, protecting the 5% of Belgium that was not occupied by the Germans.</div>
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jJOmReKRZmg/W3GgRLyccuI/AAAAAAAAWGM/O14xCT3bua0V96bdQiZuwu2eRJFJ8790ACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1582.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1520" data-original-width="1600" height="380" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jJOmReKRZmg/W3GgRLyccuI/AAAAAAAAWGM/O14xCT3bua0V96bdQiZuwu2eRJFJ8790ACLcBGAs/s400/IMG_1582.JPG" width="400" /></a>Before departing we noticed, sadly, the poppies. Who can forget the opening lines of the war's most famous poem:</div>
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<div style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); border: 0px; color: #050708; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: 18px; margin-top: 10px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<em style="background: transparent; border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">I</em><em style="background: transparent; border: 0px; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">n Flanders fields the poppies blow</span></em></div>
<div style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); border: 0px; color: #050708; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: 18px; margin-top: 10px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<em style="background: transparent; border: 0px; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Between the crosses, row on row,</span></em></div>
<div style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); border: 0px; color: #050708; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: 18px; margin-top: 10px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<em style="background: transparent; border: 0px; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">That mark our place; and in the sky</span></em></div>
<div style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); border: 0px; color: #050708; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: 18px; margin-top: 10px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<em style="background: transparent; border: 0px; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The larks, still bravely singing, fly</span></em></div>
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<em style="background: transparent; border: 0px; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Scarce heard amid the guns below.</span></em></div>
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After two nights in Veurne we headed north along one of Belgium's many canals, along with other bike tourists and a small herd of sheep. Just show them you mean business and they'll (usually) move over. They did for us, thank goodness.</div>
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To our left we could see the line of oceanfront apartments like some sort of new <i>Atlantik Wall.</i> We stayed parallel to them for the most part until we were on the north side of Oostende.</div>
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Oh, yes, this was a <i>much</i> more interesting stretch of shoreline. For 5 km we felt we were truly on the edge of the European continent. And then the trail tucked inland.</div>
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Our next destination was the uninspired city of Blankenberge. It has a casino built after WW I. It's the building with the square tower and a few giant babies crawling on and up the walls. We found one nicely designed building that proclaimed it was built in 1929. There's a pier that juts out a few hundred meters into the North Sea -- it's behind those lifeless beach shacks. Almost all the other structures we saw appeared to have been designed by accountants hired to to pack the largest amount of rentable space into the cheapest possible package. In short, it looked like we were in the USA.</div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iuhMmdCzyrc/W3GmnHkG5AI/AAAAAAAAWH0/HVgmmfkztQ4zAw_HDt9o9iyemntVvgWowCEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_1617.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1426" data-original-width="1600" height="356" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iuhMmdCzyrc/W3GmnHkG5AI/AAAAAAAAWH0/HVgmmfkztQ4zAw_HDt9o9iyemntVvgWowCEwYBhgL/s400/IMG_1617.JPG" width="400" /></a>And yet people poured in from the train station and hit all the "attractions," like this kiddie race car track, or the velodrome that had all sorts of oddball bikes for kids to try. Check out the "tandem" where the stoker faces backwards and pedals backwards. <i>Whaaaaat</i>?</div>
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Our final destination in Belgium was Bruges, or Brugge in Flemish. It is one of the hottest tourist destinations in Europe these days because of its atmospheric canals and its large collection of quaint and/or quirky buildings in a variety of Romanesque, Gothic and Flemish styles. Here's a sampling from a walk through the heart of town.</div>
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<br />It's a town that grew wealthy from trade and from the manufacture of lace and fine linen. Lace is still sold here, but we suspect you'll find a "Made in China" label on much of it these days.</div>
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<br />Much more popular are the chocolate shops, and in the tourist areas there are two or three per block! Many sell the same sort of thing you find in chocolate shops in the States, but a few go well beyond ordinary, such ones that specialize in sea shells. There's this first one that's a bit larger than a fist and sells for almost 15 euros (about $17). We bought some of the smaller ones and they are scrumptious! Then there's a reasonably standard chocolate collection in a distinctly non-standard box made of -- duh -- chocolate. And <i>then</i> there's the X-rated chocolate shop . . . .</div>
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What would a trip to Belgium be without Belgian Waffles? Sorry, it would be like ours. We're not really into them. But lots of tourists are, and it doesn't take long to find shops with window displays like this.</div>
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Even more popular are places that serve fries, either as a stand-alone snack or as the accompaniment to pretty much every other item on the menu: chicken with fries, beef with fries, spaghetti with fries, you name it.</div>
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And forget the "French" part of it. They're simply <i>Friet.</i> So ensconced in Flemish culture are fries that Bruges is the home of the Friet Museum ("the only one in the world") and in the Netherlands you never see <i>Friet</i> on the menu, you see <i>Vlaamse Friet</i>, "Flemish Fries." Just look for the cone of fries with hands and legs. Just don't ask for ketchup. Here, they're served with mayonnaise. Seriously. </div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ompBDcap8xY/W3HhQhOy0zI/AAAAAAAAWKE/RnxNf867v-8w6HTO6ekToKSeiWKA-ImoQCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1648.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="993" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ompBDcap8xY/W3HhQhOy0zI/AAAAAAAAWKE/RnxNf867v-8w6HTO6ekToKSeiWKA-ImoQCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_1648.JPG" width="396" /></a>Hmmm, how do we transition this blog back to our more usual topics? Well, let's walk through a quiet part of town. To the left is a former hospital, now a museum. Below, on the edge of the tourist area is a <i>Beginhof,</i> a type of community we've written about before. The idea arose in the 13th century to have a safe place for single and widowed women to live without becoming nuns. <i>Beginhoven</i> were somewhat religious, but the residents did not take religious vows and were free to leave or to marry, though in the case of marriage one had to do both, leave as well as marry, for no men were allowed. Today many continue as residences for the elderly, sometimes but not always just for women. Tourists are allowed to walk through, but signs abound asking folks to be quiet and respectful. And they were, making this a calm place to shake off the high intensity of the tourist areas.</div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-W8rAOKOoxFM/W3HlrGZuhpI/AAAAAAAAWK8/Vxpn97uCTXsrytQI_BMuc_xGIq1cv4E7ACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1670.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1241" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-W8rAOKOoxFM/W3HlrGZuhpI/AAAAAAAAWK8/Vxpn97uCTXsrytQI_BMuc_xGIq1cv4E7ACLcBGAs/s640/IMG_1670.JPG" width="496" /></a>We originally planned a three-night stay in Bruges, but then rain entered the forecast for the planned departure date so we extended it to four nights and used the extra day to catch up on reading and on bringing this blog up to date for the first time this summer. Our stay was in the Hotel Jan Brito, the main parts of which date to the 1500s. In 1993 it was purchased from a Baroness and converted "to a maximum of comfort and safety with the least transformation possible," a process that took a year and a half. Our first three nights were in a garret room that was nonetheless airy and comfortable. It's the square window at the top of the left gable that looks black because of a screen. Not to worry, there were two other windows. For our last night we had to move to the larger room right below it, pictured in the second photo. Gosh, that was tough having to move there -- <i>not</i>. From that first room Jeff got a photo of our wonderful garden and a close-up of one of Louise's masterful dinner salads, something we do for dinner once or twice a week as a break from restaurant food.</div>
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While in Bruges we did one more bike ride without the luggage to explore the area east and southeast of the city. Oh, these Belgian canal trails are wonderful! On the way back we stopped at a wayside chapel that gets crowded when more than one person arrives.</div>
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Don't know about chapels, but we do know we will see quite a few kilometers of canal trails tomorrow as we head east back into the Netherlands. Talk to you from there in our next blog.</div>
Jeff & Louise Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08667329438445463926noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4009287700201166763.post-86925979291140808512018-08-09T05:51:00.001-07:002018-08-09T05:51:34.061-07:00Germany Part 5: From the Weser to the LeineFor three weeks we've been on the Weser River or its tributaries. In today's blog we will spend three more nights there, meet up with friends, and hop over the hills to the Leine River valley.<br />
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From Fritzlar we returned down the Eder and Fulda Rivers to Kassel, a large city that was heavily damaged in the Second World War and rebuilt in practical, i.e. architecturally uninteresting, fashion. But at the far western end of town the city begins to rise into the mountains, and there one finds a fabulous park that drew us in and charmed us.<br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">It's called <i>Burgpark </i><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>Wilhelmshöhe</i></span>, or 'William's heights mountain park.' The Wilhelm here is not either of the German emperors of the late 19th and early 20th centuries, but rather a Hessian noble from a century earlier. Today's <i>Schloss </i></span></span><span style="background-color: white;"><i style="color: #222222;">Wilhelmshöhe</i><span style="color: #222222;"> at the low end of the park has a center section with two wings. Oddly enough, the wings were built first and only years later were they connected up. But what drew us in the first day was not the </span><i style="color: #222222;">Schloss</i><span style="color: #222222;"> but the </span><i style="color: #222222;">Wasserspiel</i><span style="color: #222222;"> or 'playful waters' that were designed, together with the castle, in the late 1700s. Water is collected in reservoirs and released twice a week at 2:30 far up the hill. It flows dramatically through various fountains and waterfalls as it comes down the hill, and our hotelkeeper advised us to wait below a fake "ancient" ruin called The Aqueduct. At 3:30, as predicted, the water came. And came. And came. And so did the crowds.</span></span><br />
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The crowd now started moving downhill to a large pond with a fake Greek temple next to it, waiting for the water pressure to build for the climax of the day. Sure enough, about 10 minutes after the torrent had begun at the Aqueduct, a tiny little island in the pond exploded with a jet of water that shot up 50 meters, about 160 feet. The water roared, and so did the crowd. Although today we see all this as simply a playful use of water, 2 centuries ago it was that but also a demonstration of the power to harness nature on the part of the noble owner of the park, the Landgrave of Hesse-Kassel.<br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #222222;">Afterwards the crowd streamed past the <i>Schloss</i> and the water from the <i>Wasserspiel</i> continued downhill in a rivulet that had suddenly become a mini-torrent.</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #222222;">Next morning we were back at the <i>Schloss</i>, this time to take in the Old Masters Collection the Landgrave assembled there. It is one of the largest collections of Dutch paintings from the Golden Age outside the Netherlands. Two of the first paintings we saw were classic Dutch winter scenes. The first one below had the landscape painted by Joos de Momper but the figures by Jan Breughel the Older. Breughel's son apparently learned to do it all and painted the second one by himself, as is normally the case in the world of painting. Both are charming examples of the genre.</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #222222;">There was a Frans Hals painting, smiling of course.</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #222222;">The museum has a large collection of Rembrandt's. Here are two of the more prominent ones, first one of his Old Testament images, <i>Jacob Blessing Ephraim and Manassah,</i> then a portrait of Rembrandt's wife Sakia. He began the painting at the time they became engaged, but left it unfinished until she died 9 years later. The way he handles light and dark -- deep, deep dark -- is so fabulous.</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #222222;"><br /></span></span><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #222222;">Thomas Wyck's <i>Study of an Alchemist</i> reminded us of some teenagers' bedrooms we have known.</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #222222;"><br /></span></span><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #222222;">And we saw with interest this painting by Hendrick van Vliet of the Interior of the Old Church in Delft, a place we visited just a few weeks ago.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: white;">In art museums we generally point the camera only at the art, but the windows on the top floor of the Schloss gave us a view right down </span></span><i style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">Wilhelmshöhe</i><i style="color: #222222;"> Allee,</i><span style="color: #222222;"> a grand boulevard that runs 5 km right up toward the <i>Schloss</i>, and in the opposite direction to a massive sculpture at the top of the hill depicting the Greek god Hercules. Many a palace is built to see and to be seen, but few succeed as well as this one.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222;">When the palace was begun, formal gardens were all the rage, and the straight line up the hill and the geometric garden in the foreground of the photo above are good examples. But tastes change, and they did so almost as soon as the garden was planted. All of a sudden English gardens were the thing, full of wandering paths and romantic ruins or, more commonly, fake ruins. That's when the Aqueduct and the fake Greek temple popped up. But Landgrave Wilhelm was a wealthy man and those weren't enough, so he built an entire fake castle full of spires and turrets up the hill, a place he called </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "corporate s w01 bold"; font-size: 16px;"><i>Löwenburg</i>. Unfortunately, it took a direct hit from a stray bomb in WW II. 75 years later it's finally getting fixed up, but for now cranes are a bit more prominent in the skyline than spires and turrets. There is nonetheless a nice view of the Fulda Valley from the garden next to the castle.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222;">The next day we biked 4 km from our hotel to the train station and met friends Rainer and Brigitte as they hopped of the train with their bikes, then sat down on a chair nearby for a chat.</span><br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9syXxwoCWbI/W1zEGj5u5zI/AAAAAAAAV1Y/Ab7ShS6x9gY2Y_w9QzK6xAXSkX8GZ7i_wCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1087.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1067" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9syXxwoCWbI/W1zEGj5u5zI/AAAAAAAAV1Y/Ab7ShS6x9gY2Y_w9QzK6xAXSkX8GZ7i_wCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_1087.JPG" width="426" /></a><span style="color: #222222;">They live in </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #6a6a6a;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Göttingen</span>, a city that is 70 km away from Kassel by bike or just under an hour by train. Having done the latter this morning, they now turned around and prepared to do the former with us. However we all agreed it would be better to spread the biking over two days with an overnight in Hannoversch </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Münden</span>, or Hann. </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">Münden as it is usually written. This is the town where the <i>Weserstein</i> is, the stone that marks the junction of the Werra and Fulda Rivers to form the Weser River. It is a charming town with over 400 <i>Fachwerk</i> (half-timbered) homes and businesses, plus a city hall in Weser Renaissance style, in the third photo below. City Hall has some most interesting gargoyles!</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">Down near the Fulda but still a few meters above its waters we saw the spot in town where historic floods are marked. Many cities and towns we've gone through have a place like this. But few if any have a mark like the one in the middle indicating how high the the flood water (<i>HW</i> for <i>hoch Wasser</i>) rose to from a man-made event. But on 17 May 1943 a British group known as the "Dam Busters" succeeded in destroying the dam holding back a large reservoir on the Eder River, sending a wall of water almost 100 km (60+ miles) from the dam to here, as well as further downstream. Obviously there was a bit of destruction in those 100+ km, though less than the Brits had anticipated. Since 40% of the airmen involved in the raids that night against this and two other dams were either killed or captured, in the end it was not one of the military actions in the war that the British particularly boasted of afterwards.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">WW II was also not the first war to scar this town. We hiked up to the so-called <i>Tillyschanze,</i> the entrenchment of General Tilly who looked down on the town from here in 1626 prior to breaching the city walls and sacking the town as part of the brutal Thirty Years War. Today however it is a peaceful place from which to contemplate the city below.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">Notice the ridge behind that large salmon-colored building (a former <i>Schloss</i> that now houses municipal offices)? The ridge divides the valley of the Weser and Werra Rivers from that of the Leine, our next destination. We have only two photos, one by us and one by Rainer, to show you from this ride. Both were taken on the flats before we tackled the hill, because <i>once </i>we started climbing, we really <i>couldn't </i>stop. It's just too hard to resume pedaling on a steep hill with a tandem, and there were no flat spots from which we could have relaunched. So up we went, never stopping, shifting gears and slowing our speed until we hit first gear and a speed of 7 kph, or just under 5 mph. Any slower than that and we would have started walking, but we hung in there for about 45 minutes (though it felt like twice that) and pedaled right to the top. Oh, the joy! Oh, the fun of the ride down the other side!</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">We were the guests of Rainer and Brigitte for 3 nights in the comfortable house they've lived in for a few decades. They raised their three boys there, so the addition of two people didn't faze them one bit. As an added attraction, one or the other of them kept disappearing into the garden and bringing in fresh produce, particularly some simply scrumptious cherry tomatoes.</span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><br /></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">The highlight of our first "rest" (restless?) day was climbing the tower of the St. Jacob's Church. Starting with the second day we set foot in Europe 5 years ago, we've been climbing church towers, castle towers, city hall towers, pretty much anything tall that gives a good view. THIS one was the most interesting!</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">The church looks quite solid. Something like this seems pretty much fireproof, right? What's to burn? Well, after ascending to a point just a little higher than the ceiling of the church, we found out why fire is actually a great danger to old churches like this -- there's a LOT of wood up there, where you don't see it from below! Below the timbers it looks like mud and rocks -- that's actually the ceiling of the church nave, as seen from the generally unseen top side.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">A pair of sketches showed how the church was built, beginning in 1361 and finishing in 1433. Using that thing that looks like a gerbil wheel, a person inside could lift heavy pieces of timber or stone by simply walking.</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pyngakzJFfM/W2H-sQzxUxI/AAAAAAAAV3E/JkVAf4_R8aQ1O0J-tvkwfC1GZoqdv4BdgCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1278.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pyngakzJFfM/W2H-sQzxUxI/AAAAAAAAV3E/JkVAf4_R8aQ1O0J-tvkwfC1GZoqdv4BdgCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_1278.JPG" width="300" /></a><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">But it was the ascent that was so different, so wonderful. It started out with the usual narrow, circular stone staircase, but once we were above the ceiling of the church nave, the remainder was very different: a series of wooden staircases that were more like ladders.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">After a few flights up we came to a large room with large bells. Quick! Check the time! These things ring every 15 minutes, and they're loud enough to be heard from a mile or two away. We <i>really</i> don't want to hear them from a few meters away!</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oqJQ5BXpFd8/W2IAzxDSlHI/AAAAAAAAV3s/rI-kp8fJfAMsVdZMCI_M2Trjp4vEMO0hwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1288.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oqJQ5BXpFd8/W2IAzxDSlHI/AAAAAAAAV3s/rI-kp8fJfAMsVdZMCI_M2Trjp4vEMO0hwCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_1288.JPG" width="480" /></a><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">Another big ascent and there are more bells! But these appear to be only for the carillon, and since no one is sitting at the "keyboard" we figure we're safe. Sure enough, a minute later the big bells ring out the quarter hour and it's loud but not deafening, since we now have a few floors of stone and wood between us and the big bells. The carillon bells stayed silent.</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tOCxgWHSdBc/W2ICUh5A2RI/AAAAAAAAV38/7kYFek6qzPIjer8EAxNbdCDlt_RRZttdQCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1294.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tOCxgWHSdBc/W2ICUh5A2RI/AAAAAAAAV38/7kYFek6qzPIjer8EAxNbdCDlt_RRZttdQCLcBGAs/s320/IMG_1294.JPG" width="300" /></a><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">Finally, the top, where another visitor documented our arrival at the top (Brigitte had other things to do that morning but joined us soon after for lunch nearby)!</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">And the view! First, some of the interesting buildings practically underneath us. Then a view to the south. At the bottom right is a small square where there is a famous fountain known as the </span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>Gänseliesel</i>, which translates as "Goose Lizzy." In the distance is the upper Leine Valley. Rainer and Brigitte's home is at the edge of the trees, close enough that we were able to walk from there to the church, far enough away that we were happy to take a bus back after lunch.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">And then the descent. This was trickier than for any other tower we've climbed, because of the narrowness of each step and the steepness of the ladder-like stairs. For Jeff, at least, this meant descending backwards so his size 11 feet had somewhere to go. For once, the stone staircase didn't seem so narrow.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">Our other adventure was a car trip to the Harz Mountains. These are interesting, the source of some of the grimmer stories collected by the brothers Grimm, but we really need to spend quite a bit more than one afternoon to fully appreciate them. We did however get in one hike and have tried in the last photo to capture the ominous dark colors of the Harz, since they are dominated -- at least in this part of the mountains -- by evergreens.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">We did stop for one familiar type of visit, to a church. This one is the largest wooden church in Germany, in the city of Clausthal. It can seat 2,200!</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">This is our third annual get-together with Rainer and Brigitte since meeting them while biking on the Rhine in 2015. We said our farewells with a hearty "see you next year!"</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">Brigitte hopped on her own bike and led us 2 km to the <i>Leineradweg</i>, or Leine River Cycle Route, which we then followed for the next 3 days. As it passes a line of birch trees on the edge of </span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #6a6a6a;">Göttingen, you can see the river to the right, looking more like an irrigation canal. A few km further and we had a small challenge getting over a bridge, but with the assistance of that groove for bike tires it was less difficult than it looks.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #6a6a6a;">We detoured for a castle ruins in one town along the way, but the real treat was actually our destination city, Einbeck. We had dinner at the <i>Brodhaus </i>on the town square, the black and white <i>Fachwerk</i> place on the left of the second photo. In fact, the whole town is filled with wonderful half-timbered businesses and homes, including the city hall with its oddball low spires.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #6a6a6a;">We even had several stunning ones across the street from our hotel, as seen the next morning looking out our window.</span><br />
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The owner of the one on the right had a lot to say when he decorated the front of his house. Because of the difficult old German script and the even more difficult local dialect, this was beyond the ability of even our good companion in Europe, Google Translate.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JgkS2ho3QiQ/W2tDClf0sZI/AAAAAAAAV7w/UvxcIj6KlkAbulbk6QU0Ihf9-PY8WGrxQCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1366.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1496" data-original-width="1600" height="372" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JgkS2ho3QiQ/W2tDClf0sZI/AAAAAAAAV7w/UvxcIj6KlkAbulbk6QU0Ihf9-PY8WGrxQCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_1366.JPG" width="400" /></a>The next day we rode into Alfeld and found ourselves occupied for almost half an hour admiring the outside of the city museum, which used to be the town's Latin School. There was a semester's worth of Latin to be read, most with interesting illustrations.<br />
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On the north side, for example, were <i>Visus </i>(vision), <i>Gustus </i>(taste), <i>Ratio </i>(reason), <i>Odor </i>(smell), <i>Tactus </i>(touch) and <i>Auditus </i>(hearing). Be sure to look closely at the illustrations of these senses, as a few of them are quite a hoot.<br />
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vsUGwDb3bOc/W2tF0lkNrgI/AAAAAAAAV8Y/xDxKPKO0Qvske_axzq40tlngowkQiSSpQCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1364.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vsUGwDb3bOc/W2tF0lkNrgI/AAAAAAAAV8Y/xDxKPKO0Qvske_axzq40tlngowkQiSSpQCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_1364.JPG" width="480" /></a>We had one more photo to take for our "agricultural" series begun in our last blog post -- photos of the crops we have been seeing the most often along the way.<br />
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We have been encountering this particular plant for some time, and Louise even went up to one a week ago and tasted one of the leaves. It was neither recognizable nor palatable. We had seen some when we were with Brigitte, and she let us know it was sugar beets. Sure enough, as the beets now neared maturity we could at last see the off-white beets pushing up just below the green foliage.<br />
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On a side trip to visit the city of Hildesheim we got up on a ridge and stopped to wonder about the white and green piles below us. A woman who lives in the village we were about to enter stopped and informed us that the white heap was a type of salt mined in the valley below, and that the shiny white and green domes contained biogas made from plant parts (sugar beet leaves, perhaps?) from farms nearby. She then told us that the bike trail was closed for construction through her village, and she volunteered to lead us on the unmarked bypass route we would have had a hard time figuring out for ourselves. As we got to the end of the detour, she suggested we might be thirsty and also in need of a bathroom. Yes to both, and so we found ourselves in her kitchen enjoying ice cold mineral water and chatting away, Jeff as much as possible in German and our host as much as she could in English, both relying on high school lessons from many decades ago. Our host's husband soon returned and joined us in our impromptu break before the two of them waved bye from their front yard.<br />
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Hildesheim is a very old city, founded in 815. It survived pretty well for 1,130 years, but on March 22, 1945 90% of the historic center of town was destroyed by bombing. The city has done an amazing job of reconstructing most of it (primarily in the 1980s), and today the city is home to several UNESCO World Heritage Sites.<br />
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On a lighter note, every summer the city creates a "City Beach" behind the cathedral, complete with lots of sand and drinks with little paper umbrellas in them.<br />
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As we approach Hannover, it's time to discuss British History. Say, what??? Ah, from 1714 until 1837 the Dukes of Hannover were also the Kings of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland.<br />
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Britain became Protestant in the early 1500s in part due to King Henry VIII, in larger part because a large majority of its citizens chose Protestantism over Catholicism. Move forward almost two centuries, to 1714. Queen Anne passed away, leaving over 50 relatives with a strong claim to inherit the crown but for one problem -- they were Catholic. Parliament had decreed that her closest <i>Protestant </i>relative was to succeed her. And so George, Anne's second cousin and number 50-something in the line of succession, found himself sitting in Windsor Castle. He never bothered to learn English, but he ruled Great Britain for 13 years. His son became George II and his great-grandson was George III, the fellow the Americans rebelled against in the American Revolution.<br />
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George III had a passel of kids -- 15 of them. The eldest eventually became George IV. When George IV died without an heir, his brother (George III's third son) became king as King William IV, since brother # 2 had previously died. When William died without a legitimate child (the 10 illegitimate ones didn't count), the next in line was <i>not </i>George III's fourth son, who was by then also deceased, nor the fifth son, but rather the legitimate daughter of George III's deceased fourth son. Her name was Victoria. Those were the British rules. <br />
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Meanwhile, the Kingdom of Hannover had to figure out who took over from William IV. <i>Their </i> rules said "no girls," so Victoria was passed over and her uncle (George III's fifth son) became King of Hannover. Got that? Quiz at the end of the blog (<i>not</i>).<br />
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Any of our readers who loved <i>Victoria</i>, the PBS series this past season about Queen Victoria, as we did, might recall this uncle as "Uncle Cumberland," for he held the honorary British title of Duke of Cumberland even after he acquired the very real title of King of Hannover. And since he was the next in line to the British throne after Victoria until she had a legitimate child, he was truly someone she had to contend with. Victoria ended up having nine children, however, so Uncle Cumberland (<i>aka</i> King Ernest Augustus of Hannover) drifted off into relative obscurity in northern Germany.<br />
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In time he too passed away, and his son became King George V of Hannover. In the 1850s George V started building a dream castle for his queen. When war broke out between Prussia and Austria in 1866 he chose to ally with Austria. Bad decision. His army was easily defeated by the Prussians, his kingdom dissolved, and George left for exile in Austria. And the castle? It was finished just about the time George left, and it sat unoccupied for 80 years. We did not go to visit it, but we viewed it for half an hour as we biked down the Leine past it. It's kind of hard to miss.<br />
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TZjHRZjg2Vg/W2wZ2se5OzI/AAAAAAAAV9w/jGNkC9xb2qMDQN0D75wev3V4B2VPFr82gCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1448.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1065" data-original-width="1600" height="265" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TZjHRZjg2Vg/W2wZ2se5OzI/AAAAAAAAV9w/jGNkC9xb2qMDQN0D75wev3V4B2VPFr82gCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_1448.JPG" width="400" /></a>Almost a century before the Hannoverian dukes began their double-duty as British monarchs, the family had established a grand garden on the outskirts of Hannover, <i style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><span lang="de"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Herrenhäuser Gärten</span></span></i>. The various Hannoverian kings of England kept visiting the place, and in fact George I is buried there, in this crypt, the last British king to be buried on non-British soil. This part of the gardens seems drab, but nearby there is a riot of color, with flowers from all over the world.<br />
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This was actually the <i>informal</i> garden. Across the street was the formal one, half a kilometer wide and three quarters of a kilometer from the back of the <i>Schloss </i>to the back of the garden. It was clearly built to impress, both with its size and its formality.<br />
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The pride and joy of the place is the Great Fountain. By hiring the best hydraulic engineers in Europe, King George I made sure it was the tallest one in Europe, at 35 m. With 20th century engineering it now does 60 m most days, up to 72 m with perfect conditions.<br />
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The <i>Schloss</i> was destroyed in the Allied bombing of Hannover. In fact, the city was bombed 88 times during the war, and by war's end only 6% of all the buildings in the city were undamaged, while more than half were total losses. The <i>Schloss</i> was only rebuilt in the past decade and reopened in 2013. Inside is a small museum where you can see portraits of George I and George II, among others, and learn that George I visited Hannover 5 times in his 13 years as British king, that George II visited 12 times, and George III not at all.<br />
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kRdcEf6-9P8/W2wu7fiZSjI/AAAAAAAAV_s/0TghrQxCv5oSjGE6sJ4Cjuf8KL_PeWI0ACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1414.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1144" height="640" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kRdcEf6-9P8/W2wu7fiZSjI/AAAAAAAAV_s/0TghrQxCv5oSjGE6sJ4Cjuf8KL_PeWI0ACLcBGAs/s640/IMG_1414.JPG" width="456" /></a>Our visit to Hannover coincided with a heat wave, with several days hitting 90 to 93 F (32-34 C). We found an air-conditioned hotel and mostly stayed inside, except for that foray to the gardens. By happy chance, the Crowne Plaza Hotel rewarded our membership in their loyalty program by giving us a double upgrade, to a spacious room <i>with a balcony.</i> Now a balcony on a hot day is not necessarily a great thing, but chance played another card. It was the weekend of the famous Blood Moon, the longest lunar eclipse of the 21st century. There were some low clouds hiding the moon for the early part of the eclipse, but just past the darkest part of the eclipse we stepped out on to our special viewing spot, the balcony, and the moon revealed itself along with the planet Mars, which was especially visible because (chance again) it was only a few days from its closest encounter with earth for the year. The second photo was taken a few minutes after the sun resumed shining on part of the moon. Not great photos, but we were nonetheless very pleased considering our Canon Powershot camera is only a little larger than a deck of cards and has no tripod.<br />
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We've now reached the end of our travels in Germany for this year. Tomorrow we're off to the Netherlands by train. We'll pick up the thread in the next blog.Jeff & Louise Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08667329438445463926noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4009287700201166763.post-17401948408887335322018-07-28T02:22:00.002-07:002018-07-28T02:22:52.557-07:00Germany Part 4: The Upper Weser and Parts of the Fulda and Eder River Cycle Routes<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JL_pFV_FrMo/W1eONZX2JEI/AAAAAAAAVpU/Pq9E1ECcW0wCb-sa7OTKB99MLf5IP3s9gCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1350.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="859" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JL_pFV_FrMo/W1eONZX2JEI/AAAAAAAAVpU/Pq9E1ECcW0wCb-sa7OTKB99MLf5IP3s9gCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_1350.JPG" width="400" /></a>We've now left Hamelin on the Weser River and are headed to the river's origin at the confluence of the Werra and Fulda Rivers. As we have from the start, we are riding on some beautiful bike paths. How exactly do we find them? In Germany, the answer for us has been Bikeline bicycle guide books. They have several dozen books covering pretty much every river in and near Germany. The maps are in a good scale, in this case 1:50,000, and easy to read. On the sample page, for example, purple means bike path, red a road the cycle route follows, and yellow/gold an alternate option. Dashed lines mean unpaved (none in this section) but even the unpaved sections are smooth and easy to navigate. In the accompanying text Jeff can read (in German) about the various sights we pass, <i>e.g.</i> in what year a certain castle was founded, then sacked, then rebuilt. If there's a ferry, it tells us when and how often it runs (most run continuously back and forth). It gives us, in short, not only a route to take but good advice on what to see along that route.<br />
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And there was much to see. An hour from Hamelin we turned a few km up a gentle grade to<i> Schloss Haemelschenburg</i>, a palace in Weser Renaissance style that was built in the late 1500s. We took the tour but no photos were allowed inside. It's a spacious place and the tour only took us through a small part of it. The noble family still lives in one wing and even rents out most of another wing as a series of apartments. It's been well kept up and as you can see is getting a facelift on one side. The estate has been in the hands of the same family since 1427, and they keep it going with these tours and rentals, with weddings in the palace and wedding receptions in the great hall they created in a former barn, and with sustainable farming and forestry. Welcome to aristocracy in the 21st century. As for the third photo -- if there's ever a competition for world's longest gargoyle, these folks are very much in the running.<br />
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A few km further up the Weser and, surprise, surprise, yet another <i>Schloss</i>. This one is called <i>Schloss Hehlen </i>and it is in private ownership, no tours to the public. It does appear, however, that they too may be earning some loose change with wedding receptions in the garden by the Weser, across which we viewed it.</div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kZF4D4gP6TE/W1eNckehFgI/AAAAAAAAVpE/GqKg41zIm8wsx-KeaWAynUxUucCR2yqUQCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1087" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kZF4D4gP6TE/W1eNckehFgI/AAAAAAAAVpE/GqKg41zIm8wsx-KeaWAynUxUucCR2yqUQCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_1001.JPG" width="434" /></a>We spent the night in Bodenwerder, home of Baron von Munchausen, until recently the most renowned liar in the world. A fountain in the center of town illustrated some of his more infamous stories, such as the time he tied his horse to a post in a snowstorm. When the snow melted in the morning he discovered it was a church steeple he had used, and he had to cut the harness by shooting it with his gun to allow the horse to drop to the ground. And then there was the time he got a ride on a cannonball. . . . You believe it all, right? Would Baron Munchausen lie to <i>you</i>? </div>
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Our route continued along or sometimes near but out of sight of the river, but always with good views.</div>
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As we mentioned, we do have a map, but with all the twists and turns and intersections we encounter, how do we in fact stay on the route? The Germans have made it quite simple. For small ambiguities in which way to go, there are little red arrows pointing out the correct path. We <i>usually</i> see these in time, but about once a day Jeff hears a little voice behind him saying "you didn't see that last arrow, did you?"<br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-m_ThBJcFX3M/W1shJhTE3NI/AAAAAAAAVr0/9oSu4_dsTWw4m6SDTLkuwfMX1uFbv57vQCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1043.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1020" data-original-width="1600" height="401" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-m_ThBJcFX3M/W1shJhTE3NI/AAAAAAAAVr0/9oSu4_dsTWw4m6SDTLkuwfMX1uFbv57vQCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_1043.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-btAZq2MUDTQ/W1qxxd4_R2I/AAAAAAAAVqM/GpL0CxcPBLkYqzpVspIjXix2iXgu1AxxwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0821.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1202" height="400" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-btAZq2MUDTQ/W1qxxd4_R2I/AAAAAAAAVqM/GpL0CxcPBLkYqzpVspIjXix2iXgu1AxxwCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_0821.JPG" width="300" /></a>Every few km, one also encounters larger signposts like the ones in the second photo, though usually not quite as busy as this set. On the top two signs, it tells you first how far it is to a more distant but larger city, and then on the second line how far it is to the closest town on the route in that direction. Underneath are various logos for trails you might be following. The one with lots of yellow/gold above and wavy lines of blue and green below is the <i>Weserradweg</i>, the one we are using. So as we go along we mainly look for either the more distant town that keeps showing up on every sign 'til we reach it (here Minden or Stolzenau), or for the yellow-blue-green logo of the Weser route. There are two such logo signs pointing to the right because there is the official route to Stolzenau and an official alternate route via Haevern and a ferry across the Weser. The very bottom arrow in fact tells you that it runs every day in July & August, but only weekends and holidays in Spring and Fall, and not at all in Winter. This is something one likes to know before biking the 4.5 km to what might be a very inactive ferry.<br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vMGoZN8MlEc/W1sSbwdFG-I/AAAAAAAAVqY/iVXAqDlpZGIBBlXbJwZip9zwU9u1pr2eQCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1013.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1119" height="640" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vMGoZN8MlEc/W1sSbwdFG-I/AAAAAAAAVqY/iVXAqDlpZGIBBlXbJwZip9zwU9u1pr2eQCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_1013.JPG" width="446" /></a>One of those ferries, a very active one indeed, took us across the Weser to our first highlight of the next day, <i>Burgruine Polle,</i> <i>i.e.</i> the ruins of the former Polle Castle. A sketch gave an idea of what the castle may have looked like for the 350+ years until it was destroyed in the 30 Years War in the 1600s. Not much left of it now. From a spot up high we could look back down the Weser to where we had just come, and ahead to where we would continue, for the route stayed on the other side of the river in this area. It appeared in fact that a good bit of the ferryman's income is from cyclists crossing both ways to see the ruins and/or to visit the cafes in Polle.</div>
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We have a picnic lunch almost every day on these trips. Now that the weather is warmer, we sometimes supplement the sandwich we have every day with a small salad and/or a bottle of mineral water from a supermarket. By chance, our lunch spot this day was under a tree next to a supermarket and a few meters from one of the most beautiful of the Weser Renaissance palaces, <i>Schloss Bevern.</i> It was built in the early 1600s but the noble line eventually died out, i.e. ran out of legitimate children to inherit the place, and it is now in public ownership. It is in the form of a square building surrounding a square courtyard or <i>Hof.</i> All of the <i>Hof</i> and three sides on the outside are in customary wood, brick and earth tones, but the front entrance is an unusual and exquisite blue and white. The local tourist info bureau is in the <i>Schloss</i>, along with some public agencies and a small public gallery. The current exhibit was based on a recently published book with "then and now" photos. Don't know the places, but the comparisons were nonetheless interesting.</div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--zeAvaQCiTk/W1sYZuTvUuI/AAAAAAAAVrM/ZtqlzK4-Q5MsSvsBbu0H20V6lDXIMjv7wCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1032.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--zeAvaQCiTk/W1sYZuTvUuI/AAAAAAAAVrM/ZtqlzK4-Q5MsSvsBbu0H20V6lDXIMjv7wCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_1032.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-F_jvJRbrm_c/W1sekfb2ApI/AAAAAAAAVrg/sJKNmog1FoYWV50-4wzj7gc0rrMuo-IUQCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1038.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="791" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-F_jvJRbrm_c/W1sekfb2ApI/AAAAAAAAVrg/sJKNmog1FoYWV50-4wzj7gc0rrMuo-IUQCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_1038.JPG" width="316" /></a>Besides our most helpful <i>Bikeline</i> guidebook to tell us what's worth seeing, we also received a long email from our German friend Rainer last Spring, listing places we should not miss along the Weser. Both agreed that Corvey Cloister was one of these spots. However, we reached it fairly late in the day, when our enthusiasm was at an ebb. The admission price of 8 or 9 euros each did nothing to encourage us, so our visit was limited to this photo of an imposing stone guard and an exterior shot of a small portion of this large complex. Much of it is "only" 200 years old, but the church as we understand it has been there for 1200 years! For almost 1000 years it was a Benedictine monastery, and in its early years it was a key center of Christianity in northern Europe. Napoleon secularized it in 1803 when his army marched through, and today it is still in the hands of the noble family it was awarded to 200 years ago. But then, that's just a drop in time with a history like this, yes?</div>
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Our last full day on the Weser had only one highpoint, but it was a point quite high. About 80 m / 250 feet above the river, to be precise. It's that little black ledge on the top left of the first photo. To reach it, however, we had to lock up the bike at the bottom, climb to the top of the ridge, then descend to the viewing platform. But it was worth every step.</div>
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From up here things do indeed look different!</div>
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We complemented our own high-flying with a lunchtime viewing of another high flier, a falcon who was resting in a nook across the street from our picnic spot in the nearby town of Bad Karlshafen. Don't know if he "belongs" to someone in the house or is just taking advantage of this nice cubbyhole at the peak of the house.</div>
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We do see tandems in Europe, though not as many as in Seattle, and we do make an attempt to stop and meet fellow tandemers. On our last day on the Weser we saw this family pulled over for a rest stop and chatted. They are from Hannover, which is a few hundred kilometers from here. Because the kids are 5 and 8, they have it set up for safety: Dad and the son on the tandem and the younger daughter on her own bike, but latched onto the tandem. Mom rides her own bike. The daughter could ride on her own, but for safety they said they don't generally do that. It was nice to see an entire family on a bike vacation. As you can tell from all the gear they have, it's not only a bike adventure but also a camping trip.</div>
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And then, we reached the beginning of the Weser. Here are three last views before we reached that point, and as the route got a little hilly, but actually only a very little.</div>
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The so-called <i>Weserstein</i> or Weser Rock marks the junction of the Werra and Fulda Rivers to create the Weser. The little rhyme on the rock says that the two rivers 'kiss here, and in kissing lose their separate identities to flow, German, to the sea.' We were puzzled by the word "German" until our friends Rainer and Briggitte explained that the Weser is known as the "most German of rivers" since it is the only major river that flows entirely within Germany. The Danube starts in Germany but heads off to a potpourri of countries; the Rhine starts in Switzerland and passes by Liechtenstein and France before disappearing into the Netherlands; the Elbe starts in the Czech Republic and the Oder in Poland. The Ems almost makes it but "kisses" the Netherlands shortly before entering the North Sea. Well, we have ridden "German" over 500 km from the North Sea to here. Now what?</div>
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There's a large city, Kassel, about 30 km up the Fulda, and a small ancient city another 60 km further up the Fulda and one of its tributaries, so off we went upstream, though frankly not particularly uphill. These are still fairly large rivers with only modest climbs in elevation in this direction.</div>
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We passed quickly through Kassel, saving it for exploration a few days from now, when we come back this way. We found a hotel just outside Kassel that gave us a great view of the Fulda out our window, with nothing between us and the river other than the <i>Fuldaradweg</i>, of course meaning the Fulda Bicycle Route. The river was wide here due to a dam downstream, but the next day we took a bridge over a free-flowing section and you can see that it is still far from tiny. Indeed, the <i>Radweg </i>goes 200 km from the source of the Fulda to its merger into the Weser.</div>
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Fritzlar was well worth the side trip out and back to see it. In six years it will be celebrating its 1300th birthday. It sits on a high hill above the Eder River and retains much of its medieval character with narrow twisting streets and a closely-packed <i>Altstadt, </i>or old city center.</div>
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The tallest surviving defensive tower in a German city, the <i>Grauer Turm</i> (Grey Tower) is 38 m tall, the height of a 13-story building. Many of the other defensive towers also survive, as you can see.</div>
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Fritzlar is also jam-packed with <i>Fachwerk</i> houses and businesses, and with interesting carvings and decorations.</div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cyRZdLDdrDc/W1t_pI9gmNI/AAAAAAAAVwo/FN6rYVj7aisKLXT85bPB07JGdiRsDALlgCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1167.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1093" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cyRZdLDdrDc/W1t_pI9gmNI/AAAAAAAAVwo/FN6rYVj7aisKLXT85bPB07JGdiRsDALlgCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_1167.JPG" width="436" /></a>The <i>Spitzhaus</i> (Pointy House) was a particular favorite. Most of the houses in town were well kept up, but it's a hard business keeping a 300-500 year-old building in usable condition. For one house we passed by, the owner seems to have given up entirely.</div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TG5s3HOUEwM/W1t_sYYEvBI/AAAAAAAAVws/zvtqJ6IKK8I_N-UOpCet5RwuEABXGK2xwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1099.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TG5s3HOUEwM/W1t_sYYEvBI/AAAAAAAAVws/zvtqJ6IKK8I_N-UOpCet5RwuEABXGK2xwCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_1099.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-w-A5_D8dAnE/W1uB4jDQdpI/AAAAAAAAVw8/foGCPvlzqDscGTgZL_9YM5dwjmIpFPpewCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1123.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1194" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-w-A5_D8dAnE/W1uB4jDQdpI/AAAAAAAAVw8/foGCPvlzqDscGTgZL_9YM5dwjmIpFPpewCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_1123.JPG" width="476" /></a>Fritzlar was actually more than just a pretty face, to borrow a phrase. It has an interesting history, starting with Saint Boniface's arrival in 724. He proceeded to cut down an oak tree that was sacred to the locals, then used the wood as part of the structure of a new church he built on the site. The story as told nowadays is that this was the beginning of the conversion of this part of Germany to Christianity, though one wonders if that's really what the townsfolk thought back then about this axe-wielding fellow wearing funny clothes who desecrated a religious site of theirs. The statue in front of the church and the window inside nonetheless celebrate the event.</div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yG8GH8mGbtY/W1uF7bWcuyI/AAAAAAAAVxQ/0dlTBZw766gK72lWQm5482CctbnjWaErACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1120.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1028" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yG8GH8mGbtY/W1uF7bWcuyI/AAAAAAAAVxQ/0dlTBZw766gK72lWQm5482CctbnjWaErACLcBGAs/s640/IMG_1120.JPG" width="409" /></a>The monastery Boniface founded found favor with Charlemagne in the late 700s and it was placed under imperial protection. Later kings and emperors visited the city frequently. In the 11th and 12th centuries the City Hall was built -- now the oldest one in Germany still being used as a city hall -- and the stone cathedral was begun, finished, then remodeled. You saw the church from the Grey Tower in photos above, and to the right is a glimpse of the cloister that is still attached to the cathedral, followed by a photo of the massive city hall.</div>
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However, the best comment about food that night belonged to the sign we passed on the way to the restaurant, saying "Chocolate doesn't make you fat, it makes you beautiful."</div>
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We've now reached the southernmost point of this summer's trip, though "southernmost" is a relative term -- we're at the same latitude as Banff, Alberta. We'll head on north back to Kassel and a meet-up with friends Rainer and Brigitte in our next episode.</div>
Jeff & Louise Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08667329438445463926noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4009287700201166763.post-59957689502652010002018-07-19T14:04:00.000-07:002018-07-19T14:04:01.810-07:00Germany Part 3: Tandeming the Weser from Bremen to HamelinToday's blog will take us on a five-day, 255 km journey from Bremen south, going up the Weser to the city that English-speaking folks call "Hamelin," though the German name is "Hameln." The scenery focused into three themes: the river we rode along; the agricultural landscape we passed through; and the glorious half-timber architecture of barns, homes and stores we stopped to admire each day.<br />
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The <i>Weserradweg</i> (Weser River Cycle Route) never wandered far from the river, but only went directly alongside it (or over it on bridges) maybe 10% of the time, and within clear sight across fields another ~20% of the time. Although it carries some cargo and the occasional pleasure craft, it is almost entirely bucolic now that we're above the busy port of Bremen.<br />
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Perhaps there were other places we missed, but there was only one beach we noticed, in the town of Rinteln. Unlike the Rhine, which has been heavily altered -- some would say seriously injured -- by canals cutting through large bends in the river to shorten it, there were only two or three that we noted. Although these straight-as-an-arrow stretches might bring back memories of the Netherlands, these are actually far less interesting than free-flowing sections of the river. </div>
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There was one other change of note. For the first 2/3 of this leg, from Bremen to Minden, the land to either side of the river was scarcely higher than the river itself. This changed abruptly at Minden, as we'll explain in a moment, but for now do note that the hills add quite a bit more interest to the scene, yes? Note, too, that like all good German rivers, the Weser has signposts every kilometer telling boaters how many kilometers they are from the source or other fixed point upstream. In this case it is the junction of the Werra and Fulda Rivers, a point we will reach a few days beyond Hamelin.</div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mVC41ce9yMA/W1BC8UKHhaI/AAAAAAAAVbk/o1-miiU9G3EnNK7pfvJHKiXRTocEn00XwCEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_0822.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mVC41ce9yMA/W1BC8UKHhaI/AAAAAAAAVbk/o1-miiU9G3EnNK7pfvJHKiXRTocEn00XwCEwYBhgL/s640/IMG_0822.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qYjy5BOWucQ/W1BNzgPKTTI/AAAAAAAAVcI/dDgx0zlYCX4h4V6lz1aejVuAo4sNENUkQCLcBGAs/s1600/Weser%2BMap.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="430" data-original-width="384" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qYjy5BOWucQ/W1BNzgPKTTI/AAAAAAAAVcI/dDgx0zlYCX4h4V6lz1aejVuAo4sNENUkQCLcBGAs/s640/Weser%2BMap.png" width="570" /></a>As you can see in the map of the Weser River watershed, there is a dramatic change in the landscape beginning just below the city of Minden. This is even more noticeable in the second map, a screen shot from Google Maps in terrain view mode.</div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-e3SRKTrGNcM/W1BN3LyJLAI/AAAAAAAAVcM/HlD07g7NYNcEzlGaNFFpKhVJOaAbuQxjwCLcBGAs/s1600/Porta%2BWestfalica.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="886" data-original-width="735" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-e3SRKTrGNcM/W1BN3LyJLAI/AAAAAAAAVcM/HlD07g7NYNcEzlGaNFFpKhVJOaAbuQxjwCLcBGAs/s640/Porta%2BWestfalica.png" width="530" /></a></div>
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You may have also noticed a blue line crossing the Weser. Rivers don't cross each other like roads, so what's that all about? Well, it's the Mittellandkanal, an east-west 325 km-long canal that crosses Germany and its mainly north-south oriented rivers. Using it, a ship can travel from the Rhine to Minden, Berlin, Magdeburg and on into Poland, without ever touching seawater! In fact, we encountered it two years ago near Magdeburg, when we were biking south on the Elbe.<br />
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rjTwOhX5rjY/W1BabMjrLxI/AAAAAAAAVco/40uD3P-N55ArbqidrlEiOUaPFmsKfP7ZwCLcBGAs/s1600/Wasserstrassenkreuz%2BMinden.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="426" data-original-width="640" height="266" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rjTwOhX5rjY/W1BabMjrLxI/AAAAAAAAVco/40uD3P-N55ArbqidrlEiOUaPFmsKfP7ZwCLcBGAs/s400/Wasserstrassenkreuz%2BMinden.jpg" width="400" /></a>The canal is quite wide and able to accommodate large barges. None came by while we were there, so a boatload of tourists had to suffice to show the scale of the waterway. There are actually two canal aqueducts, side by side. The smaller one was built in 1915-16 and destroyed in WW II. Not by the Americans. Not by the Brits. Not by the Russians. By the German Army, as it retreated across Germany in 1945. It was rebuilt in 1949, but it proved too narrow for the larger and larger ships that started using the canal, especially after German reunification made the canal even more useful, and the new aqueduct opened in 1998. It now carries all the serious traffic, and lots of less serious traffic as well. That's the Weser down below, about 13 m / 40 ft. lower than the canal. Boats can of course connect up by a series of locks.</div>
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Looking south from the canal we could see that dramatic break in the landscape through the clutter of the city of Minden. It's called Porta Westfalica, the "Gates of Westphalia," the old name for the area just to the south. The tower to the left is the TV tower that serves the area and, so our tour book told us, also affords a grand view for those who wish to take the elevator to the top. The object puncturing the skyline to the right is the <i>Kaiser Wilhelms Denkmal</i>, a memorial to Emperor Wilhelm I built by the Westphalian government shortly after the Kaiser's death in 1888. This first "Kaiser Bill" is generally well regarded by history, especially for his success in 1871 of uniting a bunch of small duchies, principalities and kingdoms into what became known as the Empire of Germany. His son is not so well thought of these days, as he is widely blamed for causing WW I. In fact, the 25th anniversary of the memorial passed without a celebration of any kind since Kaiser Wilhelm II had recently abdicated in the wake of Germany's defeat in that war. The memorial is also famed for its views of the Weser valley, but we were not keen on biking the 170 vertical meters / 525 ft up to it, so we'll have to take our guidebook's word on that.</div>
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As recounted above, we were not always in view of the river. Occasionally that was because we were biking through some village or small city -- there were no large cities to be found here -- but mostly because we were in good farmland. It's been a very dry May, June and July hereabouts, and the crops looked better than perhaps they are in fact. </div>
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We started taking photos of a few of the more dominant crops. Corn and hay were pretty easy for us city slickers to identify.<br />
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We stopped for one of the agricultural photos about 40 meters/yards from where two fellows were chatting next to a tractor. "<i>Weizen" </i>("Wheat") one of them yelled over to Jeff, chuckling. "<i>Ja, aber ich war in der Stadt New York City geboren, und da sieht man dies <u>gar</u> nichts!"</i> ("Yeah, but I was born in New York City, and you<u> just </u><u>don't</u> see this stuff there!") replied Jeff, to loud guffaws this time. Jeff then pointed to the field across the road, which had a very different weedy-looking crop, although identical in color. "What's this crop?" he asked? "<i>Rap</i>" was the reply, the crop called "rape" that is used to create rapeseed oil. We'll leave the city dwellers in our readership to figure out which was which.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-viqjUauysvc/W1BnfMFC0oI/AAAAAAAAVeU/DT8N1bs6jZYKLGeixeZvHwkWmCdM0xwQQCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0772.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-viqjUauysvc/W1BnfMFC0oI/AAAAAAAAVeU/DT8N1bs6jZYKLGeixeZvHwkWmCdM0xwQQCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_0772.JPG" width="400" /></a>The landscape was mainly agricultural, with relatively little animal husbandry, but we did ride past the occasional small herd of cows or of sheep. In fact, Louise stopped and had a silent conversation with one curious little bundle of wool. We also had a good chance to see a family of cranes in the yard of a farmhouse we cycled past. The first photo shows one of the parents and one of its two offspring from this year. The parent then flew off and the wind picked up a little. One of the youngsters stood up and caught a gust of wind strong enough to lift him half a meter above the nest, too quickly for the camera to catch. We spent 15 minutes hoping for a repeat, and missed one or two other chances, but did catch first one and then both of the young storks "trying their wings." They need to learn fast, since storks usually leave Germany in mid- to late-August for the long flight to Africa, where they winter.</div>
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And while we're on the topic of these interesting birds, here are two "storks" we saw two weeks ago, the day we entered Germany.</div>
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And just as we were having all these stork sightings, our Seattle newspaper <i>The Seattle Times</i> ran two timely cartoons for us.</div>
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-j-_eGmEjqzo/W1DI95GXuhI/AAAAAAAAVfU/jAU8fMUTnyEnqBNva5-GM4JBrRgtG5EHQCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0746.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1205" height="400" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-j-_eGmEjqzo/W1DI95GXuhI/AAAAAAAAVfU/jAU8fMUTnyEnqBNva5-GM4JBrRgtG5EHQCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_0746.JPG" width="300" /></a>On this leg of our journey we also began to focus a bit on the architecture. In Bremen we had seen examples of what has been called the Weser Renaissance style, a mix of German, Dutch and Flemish influences. The Bremen City Hall was a particularly fine example. Another was in a small city 25 km south of Bremen,<i> Schloss Erbhof,</i> built in 1620 for the elaborately outfitted aristocrat whose portrait still hangs there. They were getting ready for a wedding the next day but we were given a brief look at what had once been the palace ballroom upstairs. And check out the tile floor under Louise's feet!</div>
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In the town of Verden we had dinner <i>al fresco</i>, as we do several times a week whenever we are in Europe. Looking down on us was a modest Weser Renaissance city hall, attired in classical symmetry and an interesting gable front.</div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Rzf9KAm4yx8/W1DNmYJ4V8I/AAAAAAAAVgQ/XZE8UaI-O2UmJC739kKXA3haONFVL5rmACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0843.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1147" height="400" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Rzf9KAm4yx8/W1DNmYJ4V8I/AAAAAAAAVgQ/XZE8UaI-O2UmJC739kKXA3haONFVL5rmACLcBGAs/s400/IMG_0843.JPG" width="286" /></a>One night we chose to ride 4 km away from the Weser to stay in Bad Oeynhausen. Mineral springs were discovered here in the 19th century and it was developed as a health destination. A large <i>Kurpark</i> was created with magnificent trees and flowers and places to enjoy the supposedly curative waters. These Victorian-era buildings were largely neo-classical, a rage at the time for structures that wanted to be taken seriously. The town has evolved in a curious way. There is still a large facility for "taking the waters," but it's called <i>BaliTherme</i> and the theme is exotic Indonesia, not the cure of a long list of diseases and disorders. <i>However,</i> a large number of medical clinics <i>have </i>set up shop in town and they do indeed address any number of medical issues, but from traditional medical perspectives. Some of the large buildings in the <i>Kurpark</i> are thus now medical clinics, while the largest one is now home to a theater company. Nearby are many comfortable hotels, including the charming one we stayed at with its colorful white and red theme, Hotel Wittekind.</div>
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At the south end of the <i>Kurpark</i> someone drilled down 720 m / almost half a mile in 1926 and created the <i>Jordansprudel</i>, now the world's largest carbonated, salty hot spring. Not overly hot, about 36 C / 96 F. Plenty salty, about 2.5% (seawater averages 3.5% though it does vary a bit). Don't know if anyone used to drink this stuff or still does, but <i>warm</i> salty mineral water? Not our cup of tea, so to speak. The <i>Jordansprudel</i> used to shoot up to 42 m, about the height of a 13-story building, but nowadays it's only usually good for half that. And only for 5 minutes out of every hour, when the valves are wide open. Then about 10 meters in between times, which appears to be what we're seeing in this photo, and nothing at night or at anytime in the winter. The authorities apparently hope to make it last longer if they space it out. Still pretty impressive considering no pumps are involved, the water is just squirting up on its own. The water by the way goes over to the <i>BaliTherme.</i> Presumably for bathing, not drinking.</div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-slP55Rh4Arg/W1DZUIPSIqI/AAAAAAAAVhA/n_C-nGcIQjofWOQFwIxR2YfGQC06wMTaQCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0875.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-slP55Rh4Arg/W1DZUIPSIqI/AAAAAAAAVhA/n_C-nGcIQjofWOQFwIxR2YfGQC06wMTaQCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_0875.JPG" width="400" /></a>Getting back to architecture, we stopped at two other major sights. One was <i>Stift Fishbeck,</i> a cloistered convent that was founded over 1,000 years ago. The church was built in the 12th and 13th centuries. Its hushed stillness breathed centuries of history. In its dim corners one could perceive with only a little imagination some of the thousands of women who have worshiped within its walls, and see them with eyes uplifted to the dramatic crucifix high above them or ears turned to the massive organ at the rear of the church.</div>
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dauBZcM31mk/W1DcL9A5bLI/AAAAAAAAVhg/mL6kSBB2VOQ4arsi8WMsVf4vsbflh5d4ACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0859.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1031" height="400" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dauBZcM31mk/W1DcL9A5bLI/AAAAAAAAVhg/mL6kSBB2VOQ4arsi8WMsVf4vsbflh5d4ACLcBGAs/s400/IMG_0859.JPG" width="257" /></a>A few kilometers before we reached Fishbeck, we had visited the other city of note, Rinteln. The city hall was built in the 1200s but "modernized" in the 1500s in Weser Renaissance style. A night watchman stands on guard nearby. Once a week, one of the locals gives a Night Watchman's Tour in the evening, but we were only there for a noontime stop so had to miss it.</div>
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So far, almost all the buildings we've mentioned have been large structures. Rinteln gives us a chance to change focus to the architecture of everyday life. Rinteln had an amazing array of buildings that dated back to the 1500s and 1600s, still in use, still in good condition.</div>
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Starting soon after we left Bremen, we started encountering even more vernacular architecture, <i>i.e.</i> that style of building shaped not by architects seeking to make a statement but by ordinary folks seeking to meet local needs, using locally available resources, and following local traditions. This was particularly evident in the barns and other farm buildings we rode past. Or rather rode up to and stopped to admire and photograph. Here are a few, none of them listed as sights to be stopped at in our guidebooks.</div>
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In two small towns we encountered <i>Scheunenviertel</i>, which our guidebook did tell us to stop for. These are "barn districts" to which old barns have been moved for preservation. Many photos were taken. Here are a few.</div>
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In one barn you could see the marks made before the barn was disassembled, to be sure the wooden beams were put back in the correct order. In another, one section was left only partly plastered so visitors could see "underneath" the final finish.</div>
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This style of building with a mix of heavy timbers and of brick or plaster in between is known in English as "half-timbering" and in German as <i>Fachwerk.</i> We saw very little of it when we were in the area of the North Sea, since there were few large stands of trees available in older times for the timbering part of half-timbering. But now we saw more and more as we moved south and into the hills and woodlands beyond Porta Westfalica.</div>
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Which brings us to Hamelin. Most everyone knows the story of the Pied Piper of Hamelin. He appears in town on a certain day in the year 1284, says the legend. Says he's a ratcatcher. He'll get rid of every rat and mouse, for a certain price. He puts on a multicolored ("pied") shirt, pulls out a flute, and the rats and mice all follow him to the river and drown themselves. With no more rats or mice, the city fathers decide they don't need to pay the full price previously agreed upon. The ratcatcher leaves in a foul mood, but comes back some time later in disguise, and while all the adults and older children are in church. This time his flute attracts all the young children, and the last anyone sees of him or the kiddies, they're headed into a cave that reputedly takes them off to eastern Europe. Three children are left behind to tell of what happened -- a blind child who couldn't see where to go, a deaf child who couldn't hear the flute, and a crippled boy who couldn't keep up.</div>
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Hamelin could "sell" itself as a tourist destination just based on its charming <i>Altstadt</i> or old part of the city, filled as it is with fabulous <i>Fachwerk. </i> But it has gained far more fame and tourists by touting the rat theme. The first bridge we passed had a rat on top. Little white rats lead to the tourist info building. Shiny brass rats define a trail you can take to all the leading sights.</div>
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Then there's the mechanical clockworks that parade out three times a day to tell the story in tin figures just below the town Glockenspiel.</div>
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It's all enough to make you want to hug a rat!</div>
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And the architecture we started to talk about? It's there, it's old, and it's wonderful.</div>
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In that last photo, the hotel with the red roof was our lodging for three nights, the <i>Historik Hotel garni Christenhof, </i>itself a fine <i>Fachwerk</i> structure. As nice as it was outside, the breakfasts inside were fabulous. Each morning we had individually prepared scrambled eggs with herbs and veggies, and the buffet table was filled with other wonders. Our biggest culinary challenge in eating our way across Europe is finding enough vegetables, and this was a cornucopia of gourmet delights, attractively presented and tasty as all get out.</div>
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On that tasty note, we bid adieu until our next blog, which will take us to the the confluence of the Werra and Fulda and thus the end of the Weser, then up and back on the Fulda and one of <i>its </i>tributaries, the Eder.</div>
Jeff & Louise Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08667329438445463926noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4009287700201166763.post-78047487411281500002018-07-17T03:31:00.000-07:002018-07-17T03:31:04.063-07:00Germany Part 2: From Bremerhaven to Bremen up the Weser Cycle Route<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Our trip on the Weserradweg, or Weser River Cycle Route, officially started in Cuxhaven. But the first sign of the Weser was 2/3 of the way from Cuxhaven to Bremerhaven, when we first began to see oceangoing ships coming or going from Bremerhaven, the true mouth of the Weser. Today's first photo was taken from a high dike set back a km or more from the saltwater. Our bike trail was not on the dike, however, but way over on the left, behind the dike. This was nice, since the dike helped shelter us a little from the onshore wind.<br />
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A few km further down the trail we had a 5 km detour where the dike is being raised higher. The sea looks far away and calm, but when just the right, or to be more precise just the <i>wrong, </i>conditions conspire together, the result can be lethal. We passed a monument with some of the evidence: 1362, the Saint Marcellus flood, thousands dead. 1570, the All Saints Day flood, 100,000 dead. The 1717 Christmas Day Hurricane (actually a 3-day event), 15,000 dead. As recently as 1962, a flood in this area killed 312 people. They're not taking any more chances.<br />
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Bremerhaven is a busy port. Even though Bremerhaven is 100 km from Bremen, Bremerhaven was created by Bremen and is part of the city-state of Bremen, and the ports of the two localities are considered two halves of the same whole, "the Port of Bremen." It is the second-busiest port in Germany after Hamburg, both in gross tonnage and in the number of containers handled. As we biked in through the port area -- one of the busiest and least bike-friendly places we've been through in Europe so far -- we stopped to view the port from the Container Viewpoint. It's actually a tower made <i>from</i> used shipping containers, and it did in fact give us a viewpoint <i>over</i> part of the container port. The red and white ship to the left of the tower in the first photo is going through the locks as it exits the port for the open sea, and provided us with a close-up sense of how big these monster ships are.<br />
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Bremerhaven was the point of departure for over 7 million folks in the period from the 1830s to the 1960s, as they left Europe for new lives elsewhere. Most went to the U.S. and Canada, but other large numbers went to various points in South America and Australia. To recount the story of this mass emigration, the <i>Auswanderhaus Museum </i>(Emigration Museum)<i> </i>opened its doors a dozen years ago. The story was told in a dramatic way by recreating images you could interact with in a visceral way. In the first room you enter, emigrants are waiting at the dock, dressed as they were at different periods, such as the 1840s or the early 1900s. In the third photo, for example, the clothing worn by the man and boy on the right shows that they are probably among those escaping Europe after WW II. In addition, an electronic stick with a small speaker in it that they handed us upon entry to the museum allowed us to press a button on various figures on the dock and hear them speaking low German, high German, Polish, Russian and more.<br />
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You could freely walk among the "emigrants." Two rooms later we walked down a ramp and then up the gangplank and could wave 'bye to this same polyglot crowd on the dock below.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LPuj4mF2wL0/W0j-oqi7FuI/AAAAAAAAVUE/juK5BcB5sg8_ECZcjoTlReidgAEH0rDEgCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0649.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LPuj4mF2wL0/W0j-oqi7FuI/AAAAAAAAVUE/juK5BcB5sg8_ECZcjoTlReidgAEH0rDEgCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_0649.JPG" width="400" /></a>Inside the "ship" we passed some of the luggage that contained the handful of items the emigrants took with them to their new worlds. One was a comb with a story. It was meant for combing a horse. A father gave it to his departing daughter, certain she would marry a cowboy in America, because there were so many of them there -- he had read <i>so</i> many stories about them. She did get married, but to a baker in New York, and she used the brush instead to sweep flour off the table where they made bread and pastries.<br />
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The next part of the story was about sleeping accommodations. In three life-sized displays we saw the third class quarters of a ship in the 1840s, with a soundtrack in the background of people coughing and occasionally groaning. Next, a ship from the turn of the 20th century, with a background of snoring, presumably from the character in the foreground. The third one was from a ship in the late 1920s or 1930s, when third class quarters meant four to a cabin, but nonetheless a big improvement from the earlier times.<br />
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As we moved along there were also multiple places to learn about one of the 15 specific individuals they have chosen from the 7 million who came through. Jeff was assigned Carl Laemmle, and at various stations he could use his listening stick to learn more about him, and/or about any of the other 14. At the outset, Laemmle was just another teenager fleeing poverty in Germany. In the end, he was the owner of a major Hollywood studio and a major player in the American film industry in the 19-teens, '20s and '30s.<br />
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Although the large majority of emigrants traveled as cheaply as possible, there were always some who made the journey in style. Images from the times helped display the travel experience for these privileged few in different ways, and in different eras.</div>
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Since these trips were long, many weeks in the early days and still over a week even in the 1950s, there were many meals to be eaten. Another full-size display put us alongside the third class dining room in the mid 20th century. A menu nearby displayed the choice of cuisine.<br />
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It was a well-spent few hours exploring this wonderful museum!<br />
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Our journey <i>up</i> the Weser began with a journey <i>across</i> it by ferry, for the official Weserradweg stays on the western (left) bank all the way up to Bremen, even though Bremerhaven is completely and Bremen mainly on the eastern side of the river. This ferry trip gave us a view of the waterfront. There are a number of new buildings in the heart of the city, which has been seeing a resurgence in recent years. The port begins just north of the center of the city, to the left in this photo. With the telephoto lens looking even further left/downstream in the following photo, you can see the container port and a cruise ship docked for the day at the near end of the container port. With all that activity, you can see why it was so challenging two days earlier for us to make our way along the shore, dodging trucks, cars, taxis and railroad cars coming and going from the port.<br />
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The Weserradweg was created a little over 25 years ago by connecting up a continuous route for bikes along one bank or the other of the river. Most of it was car-free bike trails, but occasionally it took us onto very low-traffic streets. Occasionally the paving was bricks but at least 90% was very smooth asphalt. In the first photo we're passing by some thatch houses, both us and the houses hiding behind the tall river dike. The second photo is one of many places where we hopped over the dike and also in this case the railroad. A Deutsches Bahn train zipped by as we headed at a more measured pace down to a riverfront section of trail. In the third photo we are right on the river in front of the dike. This 4-km part of the trail looked to us to be recently built, and also looked like there better be an alternate route behind the dike, because there <i>will</i> be days when the Weser will be much higher than this part of the trail (every now and then you pass poles with marks on them showing how high the water reached in various flood years, and many of these are higher than the trail but not the dike).</div>
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In the 100 km from the sea at Bremerhaven to the city of Bremen, there are no bridges and only one quite busy tunnel that does not, for good reason, allow bikes. The river is tidal the whole way, and you can see exposed sandy banks in the first photo, taken at mid-tide. There are a number of ferries in this stretch, in addition to the one at the mouth of the Weser that we took upon leaving Bremerhaven. One was next door to a hotel we stayed at, near the mid-point between the two cities, and diners at the outdoor terrace restaurant there had a source of steady entertainment.</div>
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On the second day we encountered a viewpoint tower which was heavily visited by cyclists like ourselves. As you can see in the views from the tower, the river here is more utilitarian than scenic. The two day ride to Bremen was not at all unpleasant, and in fact interesting and scenic in small doses, but all in all not something we would choose to return to do.<br />
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bSPqiIurylM/W0z3Q8lH-8I/AAAAAAAAVW4/vf1H5hI4DR4JvG6ivHw-_BFQ5zzwC03TACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0673.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bSPqiIurylM/W0z3Q8lH-8I/AAAAAAAAVW4/vf1H5hI4DR4JvG6ivHw-_BFQ5zzwC03TACLcBGAs/s640/IMG_0673.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-twAQtQtjpQA/W02nKYLsfkI/AAAAAAAAVXU/3e4_Xge0NMsuk8rU0ceuyu2Th2ORVz10gCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0704.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1250" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-twAQtQtjpQA/W02nKYLsfkI/AAAAAAAAVXU/3e4_Xge0NMsuk8rU0ceuyu2Th2ORVz10gCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_0704.JPG" width="499" /></a>If the name "Bremen" triggers some response in you, our readers, perhaps it is in part due to the Brothers Grimm. When they collected various stories and legends from central Germany 2 centuries ago, one of these "fairy tales" was called <i>The Town Musicians of Bremen.</i> It tells of a donkey, a dog, a cat and a hen that have become old enough to be of no further use to their masters. Fearing the worst, they decide to go to Bremen, famous as a "free" city because it was ruled by its citizens (albeit a very limited number of them until the 19th century), and not by some local member of the aristocracy. They come upon a house that robbers have broken into, and decide to sing. Their raucous sound scares off the robbers. The robbers return in the night and the chicken scratches him, which he interprets as the scratches of a witch. The donkey hits him in the head with a kick, which to the robber is being clubbed by a giant. And so on. The robbers flee, and the animals live on in the cottage happily ever after.</div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ulJ9Wz3HDHs/W02nNJW6IoI/AAAAAAAAVXY/SvHRRVt35msutasE2Uz2A4EQwt69izkOwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0695.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1029" height="400" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ulJ9Wz3HDHs/W02nNJW6IoI/AAAAAAAAVXY/SvHRRVt35msutasE2Uz2A4EQwt69izkOwCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_0695.JPG" width="256" /></a>In the story the animals never actually <i>reach</i> Bremen, but you wouldn't get that impression today. They have reached it in force. The most famous sighting one gets is next to the town hall, up above. But there are donkeys, dogs, cats and chickens to be found all over town. Our favorite was the one of them at night.</div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UvZxmhr2VZ0/W03FDv6nUjI/AAAAAAAAVa0/niX0EhI3hrcqRN3k_veauqENdxntCYodACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0686.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="845" data-original-width="1600" height="336" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UvZxmhr2VZ0/W03FDv6nUjI/AAAAAAAAVa0/niX0EhI3hrcqRN3k_veauqENdxntCYodACLcBGAs/s640/IMG_0686.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yEsPF11YrWM/W02r5NGqS6I/AAAAAAAAVYI/P2LIMen4qWoZLxNw62h6j6SwuZrPdQeQwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0680.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1067" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yEsPF11YrWM/W02r5NGqS6I/AAAAAAAAVYI/P2LIMen4qWoZLxNw62h6j6SwuZrPdQeQwCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_0680.JPG" width="426" /></a>We spent three nights in Bremen to give ourselves the chance to see this famous city. Our first stop was a little alley, <span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: inherit;">Böttgerstraße</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 17px;">,</span> running from the Weser two blocks to the market square. It has one medieval building, shown in the first photo. In the 1920s the rest of the street was developed in an art deco style that also, somewhat, blended in with the original occupant. Because of the narrowness of the alley and its twists and turns, it has a very special charm. Because of its location, it is always filled with tourists. Outside a small art museum was yet another representation of the Town Musicians, but only three were present. A sign explained that the rooster was "much loved" and had been broken off and stolen so many times that the latest iteration of him was on view inside the museum, where he is much safer from his "fans."</div>
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The market square is one of the most beautiful we have yet encountered. The large building on the left of the first photo was built in 1538. The next photo zeros in on the elaborate decoration above the main entrance. The <i>Rathaus</i> (city hall) in the third photo has already had its 600th birthday, although the exterior is "only" about 400 years old since its last remodeling. The spire is on a church which is actually behind and to the left of the <i>Rathaus</i> itself. The last photo displays some of the detail work on the city hall's facade.</div>
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-g7HDCzEsCdM/W02wXD27sjI/AAAAAAAAVYs/aqfMTw5ygWEkkoIhtYHOtxCj7DkC9Ff6wCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0691.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1158" data-original-width="1600" height="462" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-g7HDCzEsCdM/W02wXD27sjI/AAAAAAAAVYs/aqfMTw5ygWEkkoIhtYHOtxCj7DkC9Ff6wCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_0691.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qQawMhHInzA/W02wcfa8odI/AAAAAAAAVYw/KtTwzW3-4pEqXx6eQvsmhZCf78pfXAv0wCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0693.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1082" height="640" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qQawMhHInzA/W02wcfa8odI/AAAAAAAAVYw/KtTwzW3-4pEqXx6eQvsmhZCf78pfXAv0wCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_0693.JPG" width="432" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SfK12-mpsb0/W022zNJ7wuI/AAAAAAAAVZA/CEp6dpgkjCoyr3iye5yqEcYDaVWXfqZRwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0727.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1295" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SfK12-mpsb0/W022zNJ7wuI/AAAAAAAAVZA/CEp6dpgkjCoyr3iye5yqEcYDaVWXfqZRwCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_0727.JPG" width="516" /></a>That Bremen is as beautiful as it is is something of a surprise, given its fate in WW II. Because of its extensive docks, a nearby aircraft factory, and its position as one of the closest large German cities to the British and American airfields in East Anglia, it was attacked by bombing raids over two dozen times in the war. As we walked through the city we came upon a sign that reproduced one of the photos taken by Allied photo-reconnaissance. Though the military targets were where the bombs were supposed to land, many raids dropped their bombs through clouds that left the bombers uncertain where the bombs were actually falling. They did succeed in hitting the docks many times and even damaging U-boats being worked on there, as well as the airplane factory, but much else was destroyed as well. You wouldn't know it to walk around the Old City today.</div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-e2nqSuYxt1A/W025tM7fnaI/AAAAAAAAVZU/Xut_tIj0izIvsFh4RXNXwdioxLUKzAopwCLcBGAs/s1600/Bremen%2Bsatelite%2Bview.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="844" data-original-width="1256" height="268" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-e2nqSuYxt1A/W025tM7fnaI/AAAAAAAAVZU/Xut_tIj0izIvsFh4RXNXwdioxLUKzAopwCLcBGAs/s400/Bremen%2Bsatelite%2Bview.png" width="400" /></a>Fighter planes and anti-aircraft guns were the defensive means of choice in that war. In far earlier times, water was a major player. From a screen shot of Google Maps in satellite view you can see how the Bremeners built a moat of sorts around the medieval city, now of course only the core of an enormous city of over half a million, and used the Weser itself to protect it on the southwestern side. Today that moat is the centerpiece of a city park where ducks have been provided with homes and cyclists a place to sit and daydream. A "Dutch" windmill completes the illusion of rusticity.</div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SOTbeeD0lOw/W024lLMuS7I/AAAAAAAAVZI/ZLt20ARcg8ovUZk1eB-A9oWrud1DUwn-wCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0725.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="1600" height="460" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SOTbeeD0lOw/W024lLMuS7I/AAAAAAAAVZI/ZLt20ARcg8ovUZk1eB-A9oWrud1DUwn-wCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_0725.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-azrayHKWFq4/W024ur07nYI/AAAAAAAAVZM/GNCWCf1QZUQDmXoDNg1L3OjmheTTmVCrgCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0728.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1201" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-azrayHKWFq4/W024ur07nYI/AAAAAAAAVZM/GNCWCf1QZUQDmXoDNg1L3OjmheTTmVCrgCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_0728.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fM8-SX71Gd4/W027k8IfaRI/AAAAAAAAVZg/_r-AcONicX8OgwFERQ2A6KxbhEAS_biFACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0729.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1201" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fM8-SX71Gd4/W027k8IfaRI/AAAAAAAAVZg/_r-AcONicX8OgwFERQ2A6KxbhEAS_biFACLcBGAs/s640/IMG_0729.JPG" width="480" /></a>One part of the old city did escape serious damage in the war, an area called "The Schnoor." It almost suffered damage just as severe in the 1970s when developers started suggesting it be torn down and "modernized." Urban activists saved it, and today it too is a favorite tourist destination for its many narrow streets and alleys, its shops and cafes. We chanced upon a guide giving a tour in English long enough to hear a story about a Canadian tourist of substantial girth who was told he "could NOT" walk down the narrowest alleyway in the Schoor. He considered this a challenge rather than a command, and headed straight for it. After a 2 or 3 hour effort by the Bremen Fire Department to extricate him, he was given a bill for their many man-hours of work.</div>
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-A3NVC98cvN8/W029yRQQPEI/AAAAAAAAVZw/Q-iXieTN0tgvfSny9JaSq3EAF3RT1hGawCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0718.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="971" height="640" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-A3NVC98cvN8/W029yRQQPEI/AAAAAAAAVZw/Q-iXieTN0tgvfSny9JaSq3EAF3RT1hGawCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_0718.JPG" width="387" /></a>Back in the heart of the Old Town there was one more challenge, the 250+ steps to the top of the Domturm, the spire of the cathedral of St. Peter. The view was spoiled somewhat by the wire cage, presumably to keep tourists from climbing out and down the outside of the tower. The view also somehow lacked points of interest worth pointing the camera towards, and the views of the Weser were fleeting. The cathedral itself was attractive though.</div>
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All that sightseeing on foot had taken up a long day. We considered walking in to the heart of the city the next day to see a renowned art museum, but the weather was so enticing we chose instead to ride to the city of Worpswede, about 25 km to the east. Since our bike guide to the Weserradweg did not extend that far away from the river, we downloaded maps to our Mini-iPad using Google Maps and opencyclemap.org. We only took one seriously wrong turn that added 6 km, and we really enjoyed the different feeling of riding Little Red without luggage, especially since there were a few hills on the way. But the town was a little disappointing. It's touted as an "artsy" community, but unless you pay to enter the various art galleries, there's not much to see. The largest piece of public art, a 3 km ride out of town, was the <i>Niedersachsenstein,</i> or Lower Saxony Stone. It's meant as a memorial to soldiers from Lower Saxony who died in WW I. It came off as obscure and bombastic. In a field nearby, however, we did get one amusing "self-portrait" of Jeff thanks to another piece of public art.</div>
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Jeff's not looking up the Weser in that view, but that's where we head next, toward Hamelin, another city made famous by the Brothers Grimm.</div>
Jeff & Louise Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08667329438445463926noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4009287700201166763.post-271571814580139832018-07-10T09:00:00.001-07:002018-07-10T09:00:52.195-07:00Germany Part 1: From the Netherlands to the Mouth of the WeserIn our last post we left you at the Dutch-German border. Today we'll begin our month-long tour of Germany, focusing on the Weser and upper Leine Rivers.<br />
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Hq7geUxHiGE/Wz_HDWYl5-I/AAAAAAAAVOc/6UbGOe6Zj38myjlJqxFwkMC0xelv1ujngCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0553.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1147" data-original-width="1600" height="286" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Hq7geUxHiGE/Wz_HDWYl5-I/AAAAAAAAVOc/6UbGOe6Zj38myjlJqxFwkMC0xelv1ujngCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_0553.JPG" width="400" /></a>Our first destination was Papenburg on the Ems River. It's about 25 km east of Bourtange Netherlands, but about 50 km from the open waters of the North Sea. Nonetheless the Meyer Werft Shipyard has been building seagoing ships there since 1795, and fairly recently has begun to build exceedingly large ones at that. Although the list of "biggest cruise ships in the world" changes almost monthly, at some fairly recent point it was clear that Meyer Werft had built 5 of the 8 largest ones. We're not certain, but we suspect that the sailing ship now permanently moored in front of the Papenburg City Hall was probably built by Meyer Werft. It's certainly a major economic force in this area, with a workforce of more than 3,000 well-paid naval architects and skilled workers.<br />
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We had a short cycling day so we could check into our hotel early, change into street clothes from bike clothes, and take the 2:30 pm tour. Parts of it were interesting, but most was not because it consisted of fast banter in German. Louise understands no German beyond a few food items, and Jeff can only comprehend spoken German when it is spoken verrrrrry sloooooowly. So long parts of the tour were spent waiting for the guide to finish yet another agonizingly long monologue.<br />
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Two parts of the tour were nonetheless rather interesting. The first was the model of the shipyard we were in. We were obviously in a giant complex, and the model helped us make sense of it. There are two enormous covered drydocks where the largest ships are begun. Each one can work on one enormous or two "merely" large ships at a time. As near as we could see, each is divided in two the long way, with one side used for setup and the other for the ship as it takes shape. In the middle photo of the models, for example, you can see a large ship almost completed in the near half of the building, and the far half is where component parts of it were staged and then incorporated into the ship as it took shape. The low structures on the left of the third photo are where these component parts themselves began to take shape from so many girders and plates of steel, so many nuts and so many bolts.<br />
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This all made more sense when, almost an hour into our tour, we <i>finally</i> got to look inside the larger of the two covered drydocks. A new <i>Aida</i> ship is nearing completion and you can see two- or three-deck portions in the foreground, soon to be lifted by enormous cranes into position and welded to other parts of the ship that have already been connected up. So a ship that will eventually have 1200 staterooms might have 50 sections, each one containing about two dozen rooms, separately fabricated, moved into the staging area, then lifted into place one by one. An enormous dining room might start as half a dozen smaller parts, get combined into one large component, then be lifted into place as a whole. Those cranes don't lift little stuff!<br />
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This first stage is largely superstructure, including of course the hull, with much else coming in later. It's actually similar to the way a house nowadays largely starts with a wood skeleton, with interior walls only going up once the skeleton, roof and exterior are complete.<br />
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We learned that a ship this size takes about 18 months just for drawing up the plans. Every one of those 1200 cabins has to be designed precisely to fit into the whole and to be ready for all sorts of things like lights and electrical outlets, faucets and flushing toilets. Ships this size don't use off-the-shelf propulsion systems. And so on and so on.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-h8CWAXHQ-fQ/Wz_IxB4loPI/AAAAAAAAVOo/8ciDOOpz1DkdWVN9PhoF_Ymob4OzCAvZgCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0539.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-h8CWAXHQ-fQ/Wz_IxB4loPI/AAAAAAAAVOo/8ciDOOpz1DkdWVN9PhoF_Ymob4OzCAvZgCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_0539.JPG" width="400" /></a>This spectacular second part of the process of assembling and connecting the "bones" of the ship takes close to a year, and putting most of the interior parts up also takes about a year, but starts about half-way through stage two as the heavy construction occurs in other parts of the ship. Once the hull and superstructure are complete the ship can be floated to a dock, as shown in the models above, while plumbers, electricians, diesel mechanics and others keep working inside. About three years after the contract was signed, it's finally ready for sea trials and then its maiden voyage. A model stateroom was on display in the visitor area to get all us visitors thinking about taking a cruise and spending a few nights without piles of dirty laundry, last week's bills and newspapers and the kids' sports equipment filling up our living space. A photo gave us a glimpse of a Meyer Werft ship in New York on its maiden voyage.<br />
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The original plan for the start of our visit to Germany was to begin in Papenburg, then head up to and along the North Sea until we reached the mouth of the Weser. Then winds got in the way. For the next 4 or 5 days we were looking at the probability of strong cross-winds as we went northeast and they came from the northwest, at 15-20 mph / 24-32 kph. Then they were supposed to change. Into headwinds. At similar speeds. Ugggh.<br />
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So we changed plans. The next morning we rode 30 km to the city of Leer, where we caught the first of three trains that took us, in 3 1/2 hours total, to the North Sea community of Cuxhaven. All three trains were locals (actually called RE or "Regional Express" -- go figure). We've taken our tandem onto faster IC (InterCity trains, which <i>are</i> express trains), and had some good experiences and some that we can laugh at now but not then, if you get the drift. As expected, the RE trains were NO problem for our tandem! Here are the first and last legs of the trip, and the second one was identical to the first.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MUK3bV8RFdc/Wz_OE_DCUnI/AAAAAAAAVPM/1PYbWbk2osQ3ncB4DdBGHxtJRJu7m4ECwCLcBGAs/s1600/Weser%2BRiver.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="553" data-original-width="516" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MUK3bV8RFdc/Wz_OE_DCUnI/AAAAAAAAVPM/1PYbWbk2osQ3ncB4DdBGHxtJRJu7m4ECwCLcBGAs/s320/Weser%2BRiver.jpg" width="296" /></a><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0PF1rjLQxRQ/Wz_OHB1ADAI/AAAAAAAAVPQ/qJHkdgw-_bw12KMuX82AgkmMZ7CeBPYSgCLcBGAs/s1600/Weserradweg.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="556" data-original-width="359" height="400" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0PF1rjLQxRQ/Wz_OHB1ADAI/AAAAAAAAVPQ/qJHkdgw-_bw12KMuX82AgkmMZ7CeBPYSgCLcBGAs/s400/Weserradweg.gif" width="257" /></a>Cuxhaven is the official start of the Weserradweg, or Weser Cycle Route, but it's not really at the mouth of the Weser, as you can see from the maps. That honor belongs to Bremerhaven. So today we will tell and show you a bit about this wonderful town that we first visited in 2016, and in the next blog entry we will move on to Bremerhaven and the unofficial but more accurate start of our 400 km-long trip up the Weser.<br />
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It's also time to talk about time. The Netherlands and northern Germany are <i>way</i> up north! Cuxhaven is our most northerly point this summer, and it is just below 54 degrees north latitude. By comparison, the Whistler ski resort well north of Vancouver BC is at 50 degrees, and Moosonee ON at the bottom of Hudson's Bay is at 51 degrees. We have also just come through the summer solstice, when days are longest everywhere, but even more so the further north you go (they are 24 hours long, of course, if you get above the Arctic Circle). We had to laugh when we looked at the weather forecast one day when it was alternating between rain showers and clouds all day, but then sunny at 10 pm! And it was, for the minute or two until sunset. In case you're wondering, sunrise is shortly after 5 am. Spending June and July in these latitudes requires the ability to sleep in a room that is not very dark for some part of the night, or getting by on much less than 8 hours of shut-eye.<br />
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Cuxhaven is on saltwater and it has a beach, but it's not like any beach on saltwater you've likely ever seen. This is a part of the North Sea called the <i>Waddensee,</i> and it is very, very shallow for a long ways out. Above high tide there is a sandy beach, but as soon as you get below that point it seems to be muddy. It's actually a fairly firm mix of sand and a certain amount of mud. As you can see in the photo of Louise standing on what appears to be a mudflat an hour before high tide, she has not sunk into it at all. Which is good, since we only have one pair of shoes for off the bike walking. The device behind her, by the way, is cleaning and grooming the beach.<br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gdLxLpLqlpg/W0S7UQvhQpI/AAAAAAAAVQE/BZ3KloJg1QUcgSVAWf4WrWQ11qjQT4c4gCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0610.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1201" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gdLxLpLqlpg/W0S7UQvhQpI/AAAAAAAAVQE/BZ3KloJg1QUcgSVAWf4WrWQ11qjQT4c4gCLcBGAs/s320/IMG_0610.JPG" width="240" /></a>And the yellow things across much of the beach? The Germans call them beach baskets, and they provide you with a seat and some protection from the wind. They were fairly pricey to rent, about 10 euros a day. We saw several hundred of them in two days of visiting the beach, with no more than a dozen in use. It was probably the weather, though, not the price that was keeping business down. As you might have inferred from Louise's clothing choices, it was pretty brisk, high 50s and later in the day low 60s F, 14-17 C. And windy.<br />
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DRBc5_iNuKQ/W0TC8qQTnhI/AAAAAAAAVRU/Y50loKYXSHg0upuaoS8K1hC12cO-GXMQACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0600.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DRBc5_iNuKQ/W0TC8qQTnhI/AAAAAAAAVRU/Y50loKYXSHg0upuaoS8K1hC12cO-GXMQACLcBGAs/s400/IMG_0600.JPG" width="400" /></a>At the most northerly point, where the shore goes from running NE-SW to SE-NW, a short peninsula juts out. This is the official mouth of the Elbe River, and the shipping channel does run deep. As a result, one see quite substantial ships fairly close to the beach, even though much of the shore close to Cuxhaven is shallow. There are also quite a few ships, since the Elbe carries boats up to the busy port of Hamburg. The Zero-Kilometer mark on the Elbe is a monument called the <i>Kugelbacke</i>, which we walked to one day and biked to the next.<br />
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On any beach there is much to explore. Here we found curious spaghetti-like piles of sand we assume were created by clams or mussels. There was a deceased crab, a presumably deceased jellyfish despite its glistening surface, and a mass of egg cases from whelk. We can only tell you that with authority since we later found a sign explaining what they were, in German, and then pulled up our German-English app.<br />
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1kggCnoyeTQ/W0TIMeoEV2I/AAAAAAAAVRg/5WR34WPACbIAOeyYL4cnbfmEbEpyc2yBQCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0592.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1103" height="640" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1kggCnoyeTQ/W0TIMeoEV2I/AAAAAAAAVRg/5WR34WPACbIAOeyYL4cnbfmEbEpyc2yBQCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_0592.JPG" width="440" /></a>As for that shallow coast -- The map shows what six hours does to it. It's just over 6 hours from high tide to low tide. Tides always are more modest when the sun and moon are at right angles to each other, as at first quarter and last quarters of the moon. On these days the range from low to high tide here is about 8.5 feet / 2.6 m. On the next new moon in late July of this year, the range will be 13 feet / 4 m. These are fairly big numbers, larger than on most parts of the Atlantic or Pacific coasts of the U.S. Add in the shallowness of the Waddenmeer, and results are dramatic, as you can see from the map.<br />
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The closer of the two islands is Neuwerk ("New Works"), so-called because the city of Hamburg authorized new military "works," i.e. a rudimentary fort, to be built there in 1299. By the shortest route it's 10 km from shore, a little over 6 miles, but there's no town at the jumping-off spot so most folks who want to go "overland" so to speak to Neuwerk take the 12 km route, travelling 7.5 miles. Of those who take the long route, almost all do so by horse-drawn cart. This started as a mail wagon, and reputedly some mail does go along for the ride for the handful of folks who live on the island.<br />
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The route is marked each spring, before the first trip, by carefully seeing how the sand bars have moved over the winter, and then marking the route every few meters with bundles of charred branches. You can see the route as it leaves the shore in the first photo below. It swings to the left and only gradually away from the shore for the first 2 or 3 km, when it heads more directly to Neuwerk. Even half a kilometer / a third of a mile from the shore, you can see that the wheels of the wagons are hardly in the water or the mud. A short way behind them, a group on horseback is starting to gallop to catch up with and later pass the wagons.<br />
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The wagons leave 2 hours before low tide, so the departure time changes every day. They take about 90 minutes to reach Neuwerk, and the passengers get an hour to check out the place and to walk up to the top of the lighthouse, then 90 minutes back to the mainland. Occasionally, the weather changes and they end up staying another 12 or 24 hours, to one of the next two low tides, though they try <i>very</i> hard to avoid these occasions. It seems like an easy enough trip, but we tracked down a description of one online, and the writer described some adrenaline-filled minutes when they had to cross the one deep spot, and the horses got in down to their shoulders and the water was lapping at the bottoms of the wagons. The writer described how they match a new horse up with an older, accomplished one to keep the young one from 'freaking out' when moments like this occur, but we don't think they do that for the tourists.<br />
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We watched them depart one afternoon at 5:30, due back half an hour before sundown thanks to Cuxhaven's crazy sunset times in late June. After unloading the passengers and storing the wagons, an employee led the horses back to the barn in a most unusual way -- leading them down the street by bike!<br />
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The next morning, as we set out for Bremerhaven, we got a closer look at Neuwerk from that point which is "only" 10 km from the island. Turning a little to the right for the second photo, you can see our beautiful bike path in the foreground, then a bird sanctuary grassland, then many km of mudflats with the Elbe ship canal in the distance, about 8 km / 5 miles as the crow flies from our lookout point. Turning a little to the left of Neuwerk, we can see the last horses returning from the island, about 90 minutes after low tide. Nearby were groups of folks apparently out for a nature walk with a naturalist, learning about the joys of <i>Wattlaufen</i>, or "mudflat walking."<br />
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We'll continue on to Bremerhaven in our next blog entry.<br />
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<br />Jeff & Louise Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08667329438445463926noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4009287700201166763.post-71545311798791623032018-07-05T01:19:00.000-07:002018-07-05T01:19:56.219-07:00Heading Across Eastern Netherlands to Germany<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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In the first 3 blog posts of this summer we took you with us on 500 km / 320 miles of cycling and sightseeing in the northwestern part of the Netherlands, shown in green on the map to the right. Today we will move on across the northeastern part of the country, having said goodbye to our friends Steve and Janet in Naarden. Our route took us through a few km of Flevoland Province, large parts of Gelderland, Overijssel, Drenthe and Groningen Provinces, and even a half dozen km in Friesland Province. We've now been to nine of the country's twelve provinces, and we hope to return in August and to ride through two more, missing only Limburg Province this summer.<br />
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Flevoland is an unusual place. It didn't exist when Louise and Jeff were born -- it was underwater. The northernmost part was reclaimed in the late 1930's and the rest mainly in the 1950s and '60s. It was officially made a province in 1986, prior to which Dutch schoolchildren had been taught about the <i>eleven </i>provinces of their country. All the land east of Flevoland had been coastal, and it was decided that the bottom 2/3 would be an island so as to leave those old coastal cities and towns with a coast. Below is the view looking north from Gelderland toward Flevoland. The tall building is part of Almere, the most populous city in the province and one of the country's fastest-growing ones, since the commute from there to Amsterdam by rail is only 21 minutes, or 35-50 by car.<br />
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It's an exceptionally flat part of a country that is itself pretty darned flat. In the past half century the Flevolanders have been able to grow some decent forests, but the vast majority of the land is agricultural and relatively treeless except for the traditional row of trees one often finds along one or both sides of a road. All of which makes this pretty good territory for windmills -- the modern kind, that is, As we crossed the bridge into Flevoland we were impressed by the straight line of them bordering the water, and they looked equally impressive from down at "see" level. This wasn't sea level, however, as nearly every part of the province is below sea level. The airport, for example, is officially 4 m down, about 12 feet lower than the ocean. While we stopped on the bridge to take our photo two cyclists passed us, showing two different ways of staying fast on a bike when dealing with headwinds like the ones one sees in Flevoland.<br />
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5gxv-LGAL-4/WzofAZukiJI/AAAAAAAAVH4/5hHbMgNpplEkgfdoPcKED3clIf-tp7qAwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0454.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5gxv-LGAL-4/WzofAZukiJI/AAAAAAAAVH4/5hHbMgNpplEkgfdoPcKED3clIf-tp7qAwCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_0454.JPG" width="300" /></a>We had a headwind crossing the bridge, then thankfully a partial tailwind riding past all those windmills. But when we noticed the sign for the <i>Naaktstrand,</i> literally "naked beach" but more tactfully translated as "clothing optional beach," we were over a kilometer past it. Shucks, can't go back against a headwind, can we? We stopped for two other signs. The first was wordless, a backpack hanging from a flagpole in front of a house. It's the Dutch way of signalling that a teenager within has just finished high school and is "hanging it up" with his or her schoolbag. The other sign was on a short stretch of road that connected two sections of carless bike path. It says "Bike Street, cars are the guests." Dutch transportation engineers use this designation when a stretch of road is necessary for both bikes and cars, but there is inadequate room to construct a bike path alongside the road.<br />
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We were now a few km east of the water separating Flevoland and Gelderland, in a part of the Netherlands we had not been to before. We were very surprised at how extensive the forests and heath were. The moors, or heathland, are relatively drab in late June, but in less than 2 months they will be anything but. The large photo below is a moor we rode past now, and the smaller photo that follows was taken late last August as we cycled through other moors with the heather in full bloom, about 50 km south of here.<br />
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The forest was a help, since the wind was a bit strong and coming from the left. A gentle side wind is not usually problematic or annoying, but a strong one is both. But deep in the forest, the main source of wind resistance was merely that created by our forward motion, which was not a problem at all. And in the middle of this forest we had located (on the internet) a pleasant country inn, <i>De Zwaarte Boer.</i> Showers were predicted for the next day and we both felt we needed to slow down a little and to catch up on sleep, so we booked it for two nights. Good decision. And one that helped you, our readers, as it gave Jeff time to do some serious blog-writing. We were over two weeks behind in writing about our travels.<br />
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The day we left we continued to find ourselves in the forest from time to time, pleasant respites from a wind that was generally half-way between headwind and side wind, but manageable. The day after was another story. The forecast was for winds greater than 15 mph / 24 kph. We could see from our excellent bike map that the more direct route to our destination would have us in the open nearly the whole way, but that there was an alternate route that was only 5 km longer. We took it and were sheltered 95% of the way northward. Then we turned east and had a partial tailwind. Yeah, way to go! Oh, and did we mention how pretty the forest was?<br />
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When we weren't deep in the woods, we kept encountering windmills. First, a little neighborhood one. Then a more substantial one in the center of a small city. And finally a self-correcting one. All three of these windmills rotate the sails at the top, or cap, of the windmill. In the first two this would be done by the miller turning a large crank down near ground level. We've watched it done, and it is hard work. The third one here has a small windmill at the back. If the wind starts coming too much from the left, the blades of the small windmill start turning and cranking, rotating the cap so that the large sails now face the wind straight-on once again. If the wind shifts and it now comes too much from the right, that small windmill at the back will spin the opposite way, and of course turn the large one back in the correct direction. Pretty clever!<br />
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We also started seeing a type of house we've seen before while biking through this northeasterly part of the country, but not elsewhere. It consists of a rectangular house of modest size with an enormous barn attached to the house at the back. Quite often it appears that some or all of the barn section has been converted to living quarters for the two-legged residents from the four-legged ones the barn was doubtless built for. We can't quite picture a farmer putting in sun roofs for his cows.<br />
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We were now in <i>Hunebed</i> country. <i>Hunebedden</i> are stone structures that appear to have been either graves or memorials to the dead. As the tourist literature constantly reminds one, they are "older than Stonehenge or the Pyramids of Egypt." This one that we chanced by was built about 3,000 BCE, plus or minus a hundred years, average for <i>hunebedden</i>. Which does indeed make them older than the competition, but in every other category -- size, complexity, beauty, etc., <i>hunebedden</i> come in dead last, pardon the pun. There are 52 in Drenthe Province and 2 others just outside Drenthe in Groningen Province, and some folks go from one to another "collecting" the full set, as it were. Since there are no rocky outcrops in or near Drenthe, the biggest question is where the big stones came from. The answer appears to be that they were dropped by the Ice Age glaciers that once covered northern Europe. Similar boulders can be found in places like New England and Wisconsin, where they are called "glacial erratics." So though <i>hunebedden</i> means "beds of giants," the reality is that these are not exactly giant tourist draws like the aforementioned British and Egyptian challengers.<br />
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A much bigger draw was a hotel we stayed at, <i>De Bonte Wever</i>, the Colorful Weaver. It has 183 rooms in a building that is still being competed, and it was absolutely jammed with folks. It has a full gymnasium (which Louise used twice, when we arrived and again the next morning), not just a closet-sized room with a few weights and one machine. But the hotel <i>also</i> has an indoor pool, an outdoor pool, a bowling alley, a jungle gym for kids, minigolf, and more. After reading this prior to making our reservation, we expected to be bowled over by supercharged kids with their parents racing to keep up. Instead we were almost run over by a swarm of white-haired seniors. That's only half the restaurant, by the way -- the other half is behind the six steam tables and salad bars in the distance. It was curtained off for a few bus tour groups -- of seniors.<br />
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We think the reasonable prices both for the rooms and for the all-you-can-eat buffet have something to do with its popularity for customers who are probably not here for the jungle gym. It reminded us in some ways of gambling casinos we have used for lodging (and NEVER for gambling!) as we've biked around the U.S., but without the smoking or, well, the gambling. With careful self-restraint, we steered clear of the fried food and mostly clear of the ice cream bar and actually managed a very healthy dinner. If you want a good place to stay in Assen, you can bet on this one.<br />
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There is probably not a single day we have biked in the Netherlands (and we're up well over a hundred days of it now in four prior trips plus this one) that we have not ridden for part of the day on a brick path or road, invariably in the same pattern of bricks criss-crossed at 45 degrees to the road direction. How these are built has not been a pressing question, but one we seem to have gotten an answer to nonetheless as we ignored a "detour" sign in Drenthe. It appears to us, but we're guessing since the workers were done for the day and no instruction manual was at hand, that folks stand on that platform at the front of the machine and pluck bricks from the pile and place them in the pattern, and the machine does the rest. <br />
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Then again, like archaeologists trying to figure out how things were done hundreds or thousands of years ago based on a few artifacts, we might we totally wrong. If we come across another one of these contraptions in action, we'll report back. The third photo, incidentally, is a section of road a few meters away that they finished laying and then covered in sand. The sand gets brushed into the cracks between the bricks and keeps the whole thing level and stable. Brick roads are a little bumpy, but better and safer than many streets we've ridden in the U.S. with potholes, cracks and frost heaves. The light material on the edge of the bricks is cement with holes that allow for drainage. They function also as rumble strips and as something the outer wheels of a car can drive on when giving maximum room for a car or cyclist going the other way.<br />
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Our final night in the Netherlands for now (we'll be back in about a month) was memorable. It was a revisit to <i>Vesting Bourtange</i>, a fortress constructed in the 1590s to force the Spanish out of Groningen Province during the Eighty Years War. It cut off a narrow route through this once marshy land that the troops needed for supplies, and so they did leave, never to return. The fort remained in service for more than 250 years after that, but its most glorious moment was already over.<br />
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After being decommissioned, the buildings remained but the moat was largely filled in to create farmland. In the 1960's, however, it was decided to return it to what it looked like in the 1740s, and the moat was re-dug. Since we're talking about Dutch people doing this, you can be sure that the moat was properly filled with water and has stayed filled. The windmill was rebuilt and also the tiny red guardhouses in both photos below. The large red building in the second photo is not a guardhouse. To put it somewhat subtly, the Dutch were good even in the 1700s at hydraulic engineering, but not yet at sanitary engineering. This was the best they could come up with. Happily, it has been rebuilt but is not available for use just now, or at any foreseeable time.<br />
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Our lodgings were in a former officers' barracks. We had an upstairs room that was spacious and comfortable.<br />
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This was a big improvement from our prior visit, in 2013. At that time we had a downstairs room, which was also spacious but not as convenient. Until the 19th century, it was widely considered to be unhealthy to sleep horizontal. Like good Dutch citizens, the officers slept in a sort of sitting position, as demonstrated in the back of the picture which follows. The bed in our downstairs room was once only as long as the part of the pink bedspread you see. Although it's now long enough, the design leaves something to be desired for a couple that have a hard if not impossible time making it through the night without a trip to the "necessary." Not sure if it's worse being the one doing the climbing or the one being climbed over, but it does not do good things for one's sleep in either position.<br />
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The second photo of course is part of a reconstructed barrack room for four regular soldier's, and the third one of part of the quarters for the fort commander.<br />
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Bourtange is a very quaint place. It's part museum, part regular town with folks who live here and work nearby, about 80 within the walls and another 200-300 close by. Because of the star shape of the fort, the area within the moat is full of acute-angled corners.<br />
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A most unexpected building for us was the synagogue. This small farming community which probably never had more residents than it does now had 81 members of the synagogue in the 1890s. By the 1930s this had declined to 55, still a healthy percentage of the town. The Nazis carted them all off to be murdered in death camps. One source on the internet says two survived in hiding, another says five. The synagogue was not burned down on <i>Kristallnacht</i>, the day in 1938 when hundreds of synagogues in Germany were, since Bourtange is 2 km from Germany and the Dutch were not ruled by a racist madman. During the Occupation, however, there was little they could do.<br />
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xhLdAjcm5dM/Wz3IFBipxRI/AAAAAAAAVNA/dgvX90j1AycOcRtLFwUeF8CaCAFQvUxdACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0493.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1360" data-original-width="1600" height="271" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xhLdAjcm5dM/Wz3IFBipxRI/AAAAAAAAVNA/dgvX90j1AycOcRtLFwUeF8CaCAFQvUxdACLcBGAs/s320/IMG_0493.JPG" width="320" /></a>After the war the synagogue sat unused. But a decade or two ago the Jewish community of a nearby small city worked with the government to restore it, and services are again held there, though not often.<br />
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You enter through a small museum. Some of the items are odd, such as this Star of David light bulb. What most caught our attention, however, was this lush velvet item with silk embroidery. The sign next to it said it was a prayer shawl ("gebedsmantel"), but I checked with my cousin Betty who is very knowledgeable about Jewish culture and she says no, it is a covering for the Torah, which is always "dressed" for storage very beautifully to show respect for the holy literature. Similarly, the congregation all rise when the Torah is removed from this covering to be read from. Then, jarringly, a shameful piece of fabric in another case: a yellow Star of David saying "Jew" in Dutch, which the Nazis made all Jews in the Netherlands wear prior to when they went from humiliating the Jews to killing them. A local family saved it so that we would never forget.<br />
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-quvFlOHHBXI/Wz3IQ36X6zI/AAAAAAAAVNI/DCoJXYG5-103hgOhnvGa6bszfjJb6RLfQCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0491.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-quvFlOHHBXI/Wz3IQ36X6zI/AAAAAAAAVNU/9li0du4b2LQUVCivC5ineDVDTQgr0gKyQCEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_0491.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1364" data-original-width="1600" height="272" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-quvFlOHHBXI/Wz3IQ36X6zI/AAAAAAAAVNU/9li0du4b2LQUVCivC5ineDVDTQgr0gKyQCEwYBhgL/s320/IMG_0491.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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The main part of the synagogue, the <i>shul</i> where services of prayers and Torah readings were held, was beautifully restored. Cousin Betty explained for me that the signs list various prayers that would be said, depending on the time of year. It appeared to her that the last service had been on the fifth day of Passover, two and a half months ago. So the synagogue is truly only used occasionally, but at least it has come back to life.</div>
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sjHGx7s4i3c/Wz3Mss91viI/AAAAAAAAVNc/to6GFuDjIGgqA4OXU-khamn8A7OBzWxfQCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0494.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1201" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sjHGx7s4i3c/Wz3Mss91viI/AAAAAAAAVNc/to6GFuDjIGgqA4OXU-khamn8A7OBzWxfQCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_0494.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-L76c9Supy8Y/WzqGdLMWDtI/AAAAAAAAVMM/Ums8alBuWv4fGJGSwL6TVhdDDWMqKpJrQCLcBGAs/s1600/Dutch%2Bsmoking.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="882" data-original-width="715" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-L76c9Supy8Y/WzqGdLMWDtI/AAAAAAAAVMM/Ums8alBuWv4fGJGSwL6TVhdDDWMqKpJrQCLcBGAs/s320/Dutch%2Bsmoking.png" width="259" /></a>A different small museum displayed artifacts found on the grounds of the fort. It brought back ancient memories for Jeff. During a summer between grades in high school he took a National Science Foundation course on Anthropology and Archaeology. For six weekends and then two full weeks in 1963, he and his 30 fellow-students went to an archaeological dig on Staten Island. A tavern had sat beside a pond during the period of Dutch rule that ended in 1664 when the British took over. The tavern continued to operate into the late 1700s. His group's task was to dig where the tavern had been, and in the area of the pond. They found the tavern foundations and a few special objects such as coins, but the most commonly retrieved object was clay pipes. Or rather fragments of them, since they were tossed into the pond when they broke, as they frequently did. The <i>Vesting Bourtange</i> collection matched perfectly with Jeff's recollection of the bags and bags of them he and his friends collected.<br />
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The windmills we showed earlier in today's blog turn to face the wind by rotating just the top of the windmill. At the fortress they have reconstructed an earlier type that once served the community. As you can see, the entire building rotates! The steps you see on this one were probably not there, with access most likely to have been by a climb up a ladder once the whole building had been turned to face the wind.<br />
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The windmill had already closed for the day but not the horse mill a block away. Not sure why Bourtange had both, but it did. You can see in the first photo how the horse would have been hitched to push the pole around and around. In the second photo you get a better sense of how the horse's circular motion was geared to rotate the grinding stone over to the side. As we admired the wooden machinery, a family of baby birds sat on a ladder nearby, watching us and waiting for mom to appear with some food. She did, twice, but so quickly that catching her on film was an impossibility. She and her offspring gave new meaning to 'eating on the fly.'<br />
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And fly must we as well. In the morning we took off for Papenburg, Germany, where we'll continue the story in our next blog entry.Jeff & Louise Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08667329438445463926noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4009287700201166763.post-85133640113226786402018-07-01T06:57:00.002-07:002018-07-01T06:57:50.005-07:00Two Famous Dutch Cities, One Castle, One Fortress CityWe ended our last blog entry with a hefty dose of modern architecture thanks mostly to our visit to Rotterdam. In today's entry we will go back in time, in some cases waaaaay back, for our architecture.<br />
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We are in the last few days of exploring the Netherlands with Seattle friends Steve and Janet. For our last day in Delft we stayed put, as did our tandems, and we explored the city on foot.<br />
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The <i>Grote Markt</i> or main city square was relatively empty since today was not a market day, and tourist season is also not yet in full swing. We showed you some canal photos in the last blog entry, and here's one more that is a bit different since this canal once brought goods for sale by boat to all those businesses you see on the right side of the <i>Markt.</i> Those are not doors you want to be stepping through nowadays.<br />
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The impressive building across the <i>Markt</i> is the <i>Stadhuis</i>, or city hall. The tower dates to the 1200s and survived a fire in 1618 but the rest of the building is post-fire, and more recently remodeled to look much as it did before the fire.</div>
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LW3BkS4XKiE/WzU167QJ__I/AAAAAAAAU-A/6GhoktabXxwXOsUnA19f3R5X5Qz7YrRjACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0294.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1067" height="640" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LW3BkS4XKiE/WzU167QJ__I/AAAAAAAAU-A/6GhoktabXxwXOsUnA19f3R5X5Qz7YrRjACLcBGAs/s640/IMG_0294.JPG" width="426" /></a>In that photo of the <i>Markt,</i> our back was to the "New Church," so-called because it was not begun until 1393. The <i>Oude Kerk</i> (Old Church) was begun about 150 years earlier (in its current form as a similarly massive church). For the moment we'll just look up at the steeple high above us, and a little later take you up as we climb its 376 steps to a height of 85 m, which is about the height of a 26-story building nowadays. But first let's look down the long, tall nave, and then compare the look with a painting from a few hundred years ago, unfortunately a bit blurry. If you read our last blog you read about the important church position of "dog whipper," and sure enough there be dogs wandering about. As for the bottom right-hand corner, that is indeed a grave digger. Like all ancient churches in this part of the world, there are a lot of folks buried under the church floor. The second photo below shows a few of the more legible gravestones.</div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-P4X2HokEelQ/WzU8CA0KuNI/AAAAAAAAU-c/vR6byumMw78sRYNAkgx5W0gg5emOACjDgCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0301.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1059" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-P4X2HokEelQ/WzU8CA0KuNI/AAAAAAAAU-c/vR6byumMw78sRYNAkgx5W0gg5emOACjDgCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_0301.JPG" width="422" /></a>But in addition to the hundreds of obscure people buried down there, this church has an amazing list of others who are far from obscure. One of them is Hugo Grotius, the founder of international law. He popularized the concept that travel on the ocean should be free to all nations so long as the ship is beyond the reach of a cannon on shore, later popularized as the 12-mile rule. He has an impressive memorial in the interior wall of the church. It's overshadowed, however, by the mausoleum of William the Silent, the father of Dutch independence. He was the dominant political figure in the first years of what the Dutch call the Eighty Years War that ran, truly, for 80 years. The Dutch had just begun fighting for independence from Spain. Spanish King Phillip II put a price on William's head, and someone tried to collect it by shooting him dead in a building nearby. The assassin did get a reward of sorts, but it was a quick trip to the next world, after some particularly brutal bits of vengeance. William's family plot was in a city that was controlled by the Spanish just then, so it was decided to bury him here in Delft, and later to build the impressive life-size mausoleum which is much visited by the Dutch.</div>
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Well, that started a tradition. All of William's descendants (many also named William or Wilhelmina, by the way) wanted to be buried here, and since they became the royal family of the Netherlands, they have gotten their wish. A model in the church shows "where the bodies are buried," so to speak. The guide showed us where Queen Beatrix will be buried when she dies, in one of the crypts closest to the camera. At least they haven't put a little model coffin in that crypt just yet. Beatrix abdicated in 2013 in favor of her son, who reigns now as King Willem Alexander. When we asked where he is to be buried, our guide explained that he has ordered a new crypt to be constructed in the area below the guide's right hand in the photo to the left. The old crypt is, apparently, a little creepy, but more to the point it was built for folks no taller than 160 cm. Willem Alexander is 183 (6 feet tall to us Yanks), which is the average height of a Dutch male today. Obscure fact: Dutch men are the tallest on average of any country in the world, and Dutch women second-tallest, after Estonians. Future tall Dutch kings will no doubt thank Willem Alexander. The tradition of burying folks in churches, incidentally, was banned in the early 1800s in the Netherlands, with the sole exception of here, and with the sole exception of the royal family.<br />
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FAJ3DIQDmSg/WzVMEhShzdI/AAAAAAAAU-4/valbVE2zBcMlB2uxP3C7F9Ht_3cwKvQTQCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0305.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1243" height="400" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FAJ3DIQDmSg/WzVMEhShzdI/AAAAAAAAU-4/valbVE2zBcMlB2uxP3C7F9Ht_3cwKvQTQCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_0305.JPG" width="310" /></a>Before climbing those 376 steps, there's one more stop, in front of a stained glass window. All the original ones were destroyed, twice. First, by a fire in 1536. Then in 1654 when an ammunition storehouse many blocks away went up in what is known as the "Delft Thunderclap," blowing out not only the church windows but pretty much every other window for a kilometer around. So this is not an old window. But it does commemorate a very old member of the House of Orange, William the Silent's family. Yes, this one too was named William. Brits and Americans remember him as part of the dynamic duo of "William and Mary." He left the Netherlands in 1689 with 35,000 soldiers and landed in England. King James II did the math, and<i> he</i> did not have 35,000 soldiers willing to fight and die for him. So <i>he </i>left. The Brits call it the Glorious Revolution. William reigned with Mary, and when he died, he was buried in Westminster Abbey. One of the few who is not buried right here in Delft.</div>
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And <i>now</i> to tackle those stairs that will take us upward, away from all these graves and ghosts of the past. They are narrow, of course, and started out stone then turned to wood. Here's a downward look at the last several dozen steps as we made our way heavenward. After quite a good workout we came to an opening in the wall. Oh my! What a view! Things do look a bit different from up here, higher than the roof of the church.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2TmbfqVTBSw/WzXlRo7IYBI/AAAAAAAAU_U/zXz-xmfBnikOJYYZPY5U46c7HJr3aTkMQCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0320.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2TmbfqVTBSw/WzXlRo7IYBI/AAAAAAAAU_U/zXz-xmfBnikOJYYZPY5U46c7HJr3aTkMQCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_0320.JPG" width="480" /></a>Turning just a little to the right, we are now looking down at the shops on the right side of the <i>Grote Markt.</i> Just a very few blocks away is the <i>Oude Kerk,</i> almost but not quite as large as the New Church. Turningn further, almost 180 degrees from the city hall, and we're looking down on the roof of the part of the church over the altar and at a canal street headed north. It's not the one our accommodations are on but almost indistinguishable in shade and charm.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2dlrhSt7reE/WzXv2uTWbgI/AAAAAAAAVAU/4l7XYd_b5bMj0gvBMMhLN7cVXNUN1vP7ACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0338.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2dlrhSt7reE/WzXv2uTWbgI/AAAAAAAAVAU/4l7XYd_b5bMj0gvBMMhLN7cVXNUN1vP7ACLcBGAs/s400/IMG_0338.JPG" width="400" /></a>But wait, even though we're higher than the roof of the church, we're far from the top! We're less than half-way! If you hike past the elaborate workings of the church clock and bells to the very top, the third viewpoint that you finally reach does seem very distant from the activity of the streets below. The market square and city hall look more like model train models from this height. Looking to the northwest, our lodgings are almost precisely at the center of the photo, but so buried by surrounding buildings that even the owner had a hard time telling which one was his when we showed him this photo. The leafy square to the right is not a park but a town square surrounded by restaurants, and every square meter of this square that is not occupied by a tree trunk has a table and chairs set up on it. If you could see through the trees you would spy dozens of plates and glasses on those tables and dozens of waiters scurrying back and forth across the streets of the square keeping them filled up with food and drink.<br />
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From our 250-foot-high perch we can now see Rotterdam on the horizon, about 16 km / 10 miles away. But notice the green space between Delft and Rotterdam? When you look north toward Amsterdam, the green space is vaster still. The Dutch call this <i>het Groene Hart</i>, the Green Heart. Even though this is one of the most densely populated parts of a country that is itself one of the most densely populated in the world, you are never far from nature. The map below helps show this. Orange means houses and businesses, yellow a national park that is sand and heath, green a national park that is mostly forested, and off-white land that is farmed or forested. But up here you can see that the map lies -- the off-white areas are quite, quite green, at least this time of year.<br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-981ALuGAnTc/WzXxNtXLxJI/AAAAAAAAVAk/fpqivMVZDAAN4dtKY6l1usa3dJ7KB87bwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0335.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-981ALuGAnTc/WzXxNtXLxJI/AAAAAAAAVAk/fpqivMVZDAAN4dtKY6l1usa3dJ7KB87bwCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_0335.JPG" width="400" /></a>Did you notice anything a bit odd on the horizon in the photo above that looks toward Amsterdam? We did, and cranked the camera up to maximum telephoto. What the heck is that??? We showed it to the owner of the flat where we were staying. "Oh, that's the ski slope in Zoetermeer," a city 15 km away. A ski slope? Yes, they produce artificial snow in that gigantic tube in the colder months, and the Dutch don't have to travel to Switzerland to go skiing. OK, time to descend. It's always <i>so</i> much more fun than ascending. Perhaps it would be even greater fun on the Zoetermeer ski slope, but we're not waiting until winter to find out.<br />
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Our ticket to the New Church also included a visit to the Old Church, also quite interesting but not needing photographic preservation in today's blog. But it does have four graves that draw crowds. Two are of admirals whose names are known to almost all Dutch people and to few others except enthusiasts of naval history. But the remaining two . . . they are blockbusters.<br />
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One is the final resting spot for Johannes Vermeer, a man who spent his entire life in Delft and died poor, but whose paintings are now among the most treasured in the world. His <i>Girl with Pearl Earring </i> is often called the "Dutch <i>Mona Lisa.</i>" The other superstar native son is Antoni van Leeuwenhoek. He ran a shop here selling linen goods. He used magnifying glasses to get a better look at the quality of the fabrics he sold. One day he got the idea of combining two magnifying glasses of different sizes and shapes, and stumbled into becoming the inventor of the microscope. That would have been quite an accomplishment, but he kept going. He developed a skill at making lenses and produced incredibly good microscopes, then started looking at things with his new invention. When he looked at pond water, he was astonished. Little animals were swimming in it, so tiny that no eye or even magnifying glass could detect them. Today van Leeuwenhoek is considered the father of microbiology for his discoveries and his correspondence about them with Newton and other leading scientists of his day. The handsome bas relief is from a memorial to him in front of the modest home where he was born.<br />
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We now had three final days of riding with Steve and Janet. Our next stop was Gouda. Are you thinking of cheese after hearing that word? You're not alone. Some authorities on the web claim that over half the cheese sold in the world is categorized as gouda. Seems doubtful, but there's certainly a lot of it. It's so named not because it's made here, but rather because cheese of this type has been traded in a cheese market in Gouda for centuries. It still is, though today it's more tourist skit than commercial transaction. And of course our two tandem teams had to wander into a cheese shop to sample the wares, and of course our group needed to walk out with almost a kilo of cheese, of two different types.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ozGKRphzwYU/WzaI8yK2XbI/AAAAAAAAVCA/eseYBarjzsYLLO_09jHjQDGmTqZ4JfepACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0340.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1274" data-original-width="1600" height="317" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ozGKRphzwYU/WzaI8yK2XbI/AAAAAAAAVCA/eseYBarjzsYLLO_09jHjQDGmTqZ4JfepACLcBGAs/s400/IMG_0340.JPG" width="400" /></a>Gouda is actually a relatively small city, and very quaint. We often take a photo of maps we encounter while walking to supplement our guidebook maps, which are often minimalist. Here's one from the sidewalks of Gouda, and you can see that the old part of the city has a goodly number of canals, as so many Dutch cities do. One of them had something we had not previously seen on Dutch canals, however: a bride and groom drifting along in a small boat, with the wedding photographer racing alongside taking photo after photo.<br />
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Like a good Dutch city, Gouda also has a <i>Grote Markt</i> in the center of town, but unlike most, it has something in the middle of the town square -- the city hall. Its flair and its age -- it dates to the mid-1400s -- give you a good idea how long the cheese business has been making big money for Gouda. The <i>Grote Kerk,</i> by comparison, is tucked away in a warren of narrow streets, hiding from photographers. And let's not forget windmills. This <i>is </i>the Netherlands, <i>ja</i>? Gouda has two tucked into quiet corners of the old city.<br />
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It's easy to get mentally lost in the 15th, 16th and 17th centuries in places like then. Walking along, something jolted us into the middle of the 20th century, a <i>Stolperstein.</i> The idea for these "stumbling stones" came from German artist/activist Gunter Gemnig. Since 1992 nearly 70,000 have been placed in 22 countries. In Gouda alone there are 158. Each one is placed in front of the last place a victim of Nazi murder lived of his or her own free will, based on careful research. The name is a deliberate pun on both "stumbling" upon one as a chance encounter while walking, and stumbling in the sense of encountering a significant problem. This <i>Stolperstein</i> tells us that Sara van Dantzig once lived in the house here, was deported at age 58 to the detention center at Westerbork in eastern Netherlands, and murdered there three days later. By going to the Stolperstein website one can learn more about her life, and what documentation was used.<br />
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The next morning we continued eastward across a part of the Netherlands that is fairly watery. So much so that in 1672-73 the Dutch intentionally flooded a swath of land about a dozen miles across and several dozen miles long, and thereby successfully prevented the French army from attacking Amsterdam. Today the passage was quite pleasant, and a lookout tower with a carved cormorant for a neighbor gave us a good look at the surroundings.<br />
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We reached our hotel early and dropped off our panniers, then headed over to <i>Kastel de Haar.</i> In the 1890s, Etienne Gustav Frederic, Baron van Zuylen van Nijevelt van de Haar inherited this castle, or as it appeared to most people at that time, a pile of stone that once represented the ancestral home of the van Zuylens. By good luck or perhaps good planning, the Baron had managed to marry Helene de Rothschild, the only child of Paris banker Baron Salomon de Rothschild. With money no object, they hired Peter Cuypers, who had just designed the <i>Rijksmuseum</i> in Amsterdam, to rebuild the castle in what some would call mock medieval style.<br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PCIMD1njHTo/Wzi7SP-rkmI/AAAAAAAAVDA/Zv4EqEiOub0XDxUD1Pk1uDN6kMK2l5xTgCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0390.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PCIMD1njHTo/Wzi7SP-rkmI/AAAAAAAAVDA/Zv4EqEiOub0XDxUD1Pk1uDN6kMK2l5xTgCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_0390.JPG" width="480" /></a>It's quite a place. Of course, it's surrounded by a moat -- a (bird) family friendly one at that. Inside the best way to describe the central court is probably "theatrical." Cameras have a harder time accommodating different levels of light than our eyes, and the windows up high look uninteresting in the first photograph. But with a darker exposure and a focus on the windows alone, you can see how colorful they truly are, as is the Zuylen family crest in another window down low, where the guests were sure to be able to read it.<br />
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And theatrical was probably an appropriate style, since the Baron and Baroness and their progeny in later generations have made a point of befriending folks from the theater and then the film world. Just a few of the guests, many on multiple occasions<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">:</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> <span style="background-color: white; color: #666666;">Maria Callas, Gregory Peck, Roger Moore, Yves Saint Laurent, Coco Chanel, Joan Collins and Brigitte Bardot.</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: inherit;"> Of course, what's not to like about being offered a stay in a sumptuous castle, all meals included, for the price of free?</span></span><br />
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</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #666666;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 16.8px;">We took a tour through the place. The two nicest rooms were the Baroness' bedroom and dressing room. A little Parisian influence from the </span><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 16.8px;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Baroness</span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 16.8px;">,</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></span></span><span class="Latn headword" lang="fr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/peut#French" style="background: none; color: #0b0080;" title="peut">peut</a>-<a href="https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/%C3%AAtre#French" style="background: none; color: #0b0080;" title="être">être</a></span>?</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TO-LCIgg3mw/WzjEUxhgZjI/AAAAAAAAVEU/k7mebL5eToISmb3VkEfXE9-68iYHopn6QCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0394.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TO-LCIgg3mw/WzjEUxhgZjI/AAAAAAAAVEU/k7mebL5eToISmb3VkEfXE9-68iYHopn6QCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_0394.JPG" width="300" /></a>And if you're a fan of <i>Downton Abbey</i> or its predecessors <i>Gosford Park </i> and <i>Upstairs Downstairs,</i> you know that if there's an upstairs there's going to be a downstairs. Here's the kitchen, where a coal-fired stove made it an exceedingly warm place to spend your working day, an aspect of downstairs life that the tv shows and the movie never quite conveyed, so far as we can recall. As for the service stairs, they're narrow, for sure, but actually quite normal for the Netherlands so far as steepness is concerned. We're not quite sure why, but Dutch staircases are the steepest we've encountered anywhere in the world, not only in old houses but even in new ones built in the last few years.<br />
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Our last day riding with Steve and Janet followed the Vecht River for much of the way. We stopped at a lock that connects the river with a nearby lake that is roughly a meter lower in elevation. Depending on the length of your boat, it costs between 4 and 6 euros each time you lock through. Nearby workers were busy thatching a roof, and a windmill sat quietly, its sails stowed away. We were 20 km from the heart of the largest city, Amsterdam, and the fourth-largest, Utrecht, but you'd never know it from scenes like these.<br />
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And then it got even more bucolic as we took a 4 km hard-packed clay/limestone path down a narrow peninsula that bisected the lake. Of course we climbed the tower. And of course Louise got in some push ups, something she tries to work into some part of each day, on top of the 40-50 km we ride most days.<br />
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Finally, we were in Naarden. This is a <i>Vestingstad</i>, a fortress city that still has its ancient defensive shape. The town hall has a model, or you can just look at the satellite view on Google Maps, to see its star shape. American and British planes on bombing missions from the UK to Germany in WW II used its shape and its position on the edge of the IJsselmeer to make it a landmark, in that age before GPS and the many other way-finding tools of our own era.</div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nu2SDhzbVVA/WzjTNDP8DsI/AAAAAAAAVGE/0-FiV5pEk-QPlmZi2sMJV8T0EYdejWMMQCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0431.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1201" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nu2SDhzbVVA/WzjTNDP8DsI/AAAAAAAAVGE/0-FiV5pEk-QPlmZi2sMJV8T0EYdejWMMQCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_0431.JPG" width="480" /></a>It's a low-key kind of spot, with only a few places to stay and a few more restaurants that folks drive to, perhaps from nearby Amsterdam and Utrecht. The city hall is open most days and a volunteer there was happy to tell us all about the meeting room for the city council. Across the street is the church, remarkably large for a city as small as Naarden.<br />
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The artwork in the church was actually quite interesting, such as this woodwork and those paintings way up high on the ceiling. The one we've shown in close-up thanks to the telephoto lens on our camera depicts sinners being led off to hell.<br />
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After dinner we strolled over to the ramparts for a view, then retired to our B&B for the night. Next morning after breakfast we said goodbye to Steve and Janet as they headed west and, 3 days later, back to Seattle.<br />
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As they headed one way, we headed the other, east and then northeast. We'll tell you about it in our next blog entry, coming to a computer near you soon.<br />
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Jeff & Louise Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08667329438445463926noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4009287700201166763.post-86483858159863958062018-06-26T13:14:00.002-07:002018-06-26T13:14:35.552-07:00Exploring South Holland with Even More Tandem FriendsAs recounted in our last blog entry, we've begun this year's bike tour of Europe with a 16-day visit to some of our favorite places in the Netherlands with tandem friends Steve and Janet. Today we'll head from the Province of North Holland into South Holland and meet up with yet more tandem friends, our Dutch friends Nico and Marga.<br />
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Only a few km from Haarlem we were stopping already for a very special sight, the Cruquius Museum. In the mid-1800s Haarlem was bordered by an enormous shallow lake, the Haarlemermeer. It was 170 sq km / 65 sq mi. The Dutch turned to the British for their expertise in steam engines, and three enormous ones were built to drain the lake. The remaining one is the centerpiece of the museum, and an object of something between intense interest and veneration by Steve, who is a retired mechanical engineer.<br />
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The museum actually did more than showcase the pump. It demonstrated various ways that the Dutch and others have pumped out water over the centuries. To the right is a cutaway model of an Archimedes screw, a device used since Archimedes' time in ancient Greece. It was widely used by windmills in the Netherlands for pumping water out of polders until replaced in the past few decades by electric pumps using other methods, and the image below is an Archimedes screw from just such a windmill.<br />
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Something like that can pump dozens of gallons a minute, but that would have been like using a lawn hose to drain the giant Haarlemermeer. The Cruquius pump as built pumped 55,000 gallons per minute, raising it 15 feet (almost 5 m). Together with two other pumps of similar design, the lake was drained in less than 4 years, from late 1848 to mid-1852. Money paid by folks interested in buying the newly-created land covered much of the cost of the effort.<br />
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The pumping station consisted of one enormous steam piston that simultaneously powered 8 smaller pistons that took in water when submerged and dumped it when lifted, 15 feet higher, into a drainage canal that led to the ocean. Five times a minute, every hour and every day.<br />
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GtFEUjQHroE/Wy0EVDbDqTI/AAAAAAAAUys/mcwkft9XhzEjMwHpYwisViWpcfEClh5mgCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0186.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1490" data-original-width="1600" height="371" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GtFEUjQHroE/Wy0EVDbDqTI/AAAAAAAAUys/mcwkft9XhzEjMwHpYwisViWpcfEClh5mgCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_0186.JPG" width="400" /></a>Want to know more? Check out the museum's website (Google "Cruquius"). Or find Steve and ask him. As for the Haarlemermeer area, it's now a township, 15% of which is covered by Schiphol Airport, the largest airport in the Netherlands. Two of the three pumps were retired early, and the Cruquius continued in service until 1933. More efficient electric pumps do the job of keeping the polder dry today.<br />
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It was cool but dry, as you could guess from Steve and Janet's bike outfit for the day. As for the windmill, it's a bit small to be a grinding mill and the wrong design to be a water-pumping windmill, so perhaps this one is just a garden ornament, albeit a pretty sizable one.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yZNn6q42qkA/Wy0N4z5tKiI/AAAAAAAAUzw/VMlY_xhwxoEDL06GLYVrjQ_lpyyS-v3ewCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0201.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1573" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yZNn6q42qkA/Wy0N4z5tKiI/AAAAAAAAUzw/VMlY_xhwxoEDL06GLYVrjQ_lpyyS-v3ewCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_0201.JPG" width="391" /></a>We had scheduled a short day to Leiden, 40 km / 25 mi. This gave us time, after lunch and a switch into non-lycra clothing, for a walking tour of town, with a Rick Steves guidebook on one of our electronic devices as our tour guide. Between the twists and turns of the Leiden streets and of Rick Steve's directions, we had, shall we say, difference of opinion about the correct way to turn at quite a few street junctions, but somehow made it around the circuit and past some interesting streets and structures. The quaint brick buidling in the third photo below, for example, is the palace of justice, in front of which public hangings used to be held. The stonework in the photo to the right, however, is a weighing not of the scales of justice, but of the scales of cheese, for this is carved into the wall of the <i>Waag</i>, the official Weigh-house which once certified the accurate weight of all cheeses sold hereabouts.<br />
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As in Haarlem, there were several <i>hofjes</i>, or almshouses, to check out for their peaceful courtyards. Because we were close to the University of Leiden, some of these were now student housing. A clear indication of this at our first <i>hofje</i> was the barbecue grill in the shape of an <i>Amstel</i> beer bottle.<br />
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Our next <i>hofje</i> had historical significance, for we were now in the part of town where religious zealots from England chose to settle. They arrived in 1609, convinced that King James, he of the <i>King James Bible</i>, was too much a papist for their taste, even though he was a Protestant and the head of the Anglican Church. Their spiritual leader, Rev. John Robinson, lived on this spot. In 1620 the group decided that their kids were becoming too Dutch, and they needed a place where they could remain both English and pure of heart. They located a ship called <i>The Mayflower</i> and sailed off to Massachusetts, where they became known as The Puritans. Dr. Robinson however stayed behind in Leiden and was buried nearby in 1625. A few decades later this <i>hofje</i> was built on the site of his last home. As for staying pure of heart, historians have been recounting the history of those Puritans in America for quite some time, and we'll let you decide. They did have some interesting descendants, though, as a sign across the street informed us.<br />
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The final stop on our walking tour was a tiny hill that once held a small castle, but now serves as a nice spot from which to look over the city. Nearby is the <i>Hooglandse Kerk</i>, the "highlands" church, so-named because of this diminutive hill. We are, indeed, in a particularly flat part of the Netherlands, where a little hill is a Big Deal.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-c5ujZwuboRY/Wy0TBfQfF3I/AAAAAAAAU0I/yMmX-9kh0X8WVAp4wyvAiX_Hyp-2nqBkACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0205.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1600" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-c5ujZwuboRY/Wy0TBfQfF3I/AAAAAAAAU0I/yMmX-9kh0X8WVAp4wyvAiX_Hyp-2nqBkACLcBGAs/s320/IMG_0205.JPG" width="320" /></a>Our next destination was the Hague, which is only 20 km from Leiden. To make for a more interesting ride, Jeff found a route that looped <i>en route </i>through Wassenaar, the Netherlands' wealthiest community. As we entered town, however, Steve and Janet's rear brake cable broke. Team Redtandem never leaves home without all sorts of spare parts. Mechanical engineer Steve never leaves home without his Leatherman tool with umpteen devices, one of which is a wire cutter. With a variety of hands on the job or photographing the effort for the archives, we soon had things back to normal.<br />
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As for Wassenaar, the Netherlands is such an egalitarian society that mega-mansions, or as Americans sometimes call them "McMansions," are just not considered as an appropriate form of architecture. Now old nobility sometimes had rather large, ornate digs like this former palace called <i>Oude Wassenaar,</i> which now serves primarily as a wedding reception venue <i>and </i>home to some storks visiting from Africa for the summer months, as storks are wont to do. And we did find one place along the way that was certainly very stylish in its use of brick and thatch. But if you want the sort of garish displays of wealth one finds in various enclaves in the US, you'll be disappointed here.<br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uY0pg1H-R_Q/WzJGnOV9azI/AAAAAAAAU2Q/C8F_HgYo1TgdEfHkE20xG3wKhNv_t5tsgCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0214.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1573" data-original-width="1600" height="392" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uY0pg1H-R_Q/WzJGnOV9azI/AAAAAAAAU2Q/C8F_HgYo1TgdEfHkE20xG3wKhNv_t5tsgCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_0214.JPG" width="400" /></a> The heart of The Hague is a few km inland, but a small seaside town that is now part of The Hague is not merely on the sea, but in fact is the most visited seaside town in the country, Scheveningen. A few years ago a grand boardwalk was created, and a portion of the boardwalk peopled with 19 little sculptures entitled <i>Fairytales by the Sea</i>, plus one enormous one entitled <i>The Proper Way to Eat Herring.</i> The artist is Tom Otterness, and you simply can't pass these artworks without smiling.<br />
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We arrived late afternoon and had a full day planned for the next day so didn't do much sightseeing in the Hague, but we did take time to walk around the <i>Binnenhof,</i> the center of the Dutch parliament, in the photo below, and the <i>Ridderzaal</i> or "Knight's Hall" that the Binnenhof wraps around. The <i>Ridderzaal </i>dates back to the 13th century, and more recently has served as a place for large gatherings, such as the conference in the late 1940s when the Netherlands gave up its colonial claims to Indonesia. Its main function these days is as the venue for the annual King's Speech to open Parliament. As in the UK, it's pretty much written by the Prime Minister and his assistants and merely read by the monarch.<br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-84OFuvw20A8/WzJO081hwpI/AAAAAAAAU3Y/vSu1M0C1fR8pKukkeucrT2r1yrZMrBA3wCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0225.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-84OFuvw20A8/WzJO081hwpI/AAAAAAAAU3Y/vSu1M0C1fR8pKukkeucrT2r1yrZMrBA3wCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_0225.JPG" width="480" /></a>We now moved on to Delft for our second 4-night stay. We arrived at noon at a 2-bedroom apartment we found through Homeaway.com, and dropped our bike panniers. Meanwhile friends Nico and Marga arrived with their tandem on the back of their car, and the six of us took off for a 35 km tour of the countryside southeast of town. But first we found a bench for a picnic lunch and a group photo courtesy of a passerby. After lunch Team Redtandem managed to get a few action photos of the other two teams along the way. And of course we stopped for coffee and an <i>Appeltaart</i> at a trailside cafe, of which the Netherlands has hundreds (they're even marked on bicycle maps!) Since our own tandem has no kickstand and there was no place nearby to lean it, we made a "tandem sandwich" to hold all three bikes upright during our cafe stop.<br />
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The Netherlands has hundreds and hundreds of ferries, many of them just for pedestrians and bikes. Most of these have a ferry operator, but there are a few dozen "do-it-yourself" ferries around the country. We had encountered one near Delft in our first visit to the Netherlands, and Jeff was able to figure out where it was and to route our group to it. We told the other two teams only that there would be a <i>Verrassing</i>, a surprise, a few km from the end of the ride. As it turns out, Nico and Marga had encountered these once or twice before, but even smaller ones just for walkers, in nature parks. This was their first self-propelled bike ferry. It <i>was</i> a pleasant surprise for them, as well as for Steve and Janet.<br />
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The ferry has a continuous chain and four places to crank it: one on each shore, and one at each end of the ferry. We first had to crank it from the other shore, Jeff and Steve taking turns. Then Nico was the motive power for our trip across. You have to push the crank in to engage the chain, then crank HARD. The first minute or two appears to accomplish nothing, since it takes at least that long to wind the chain up from the bottom of the canal. By the time we were approaching the far shore, Nico seemed glad to be getting assistance from a cyclist on the shore who helped crank us in.<br />
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Of course we ended our day with a meal in a square in Delft. Do we eat to bike or bike to eat? Age-old question with a simple answer: yes.<br />
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Marga had to work the next day so we said goodbye for now. We will see Marga and Nico two months from now, however, when we return to this part of the Netherlands in late August. The remaining four of us headed southwest from Delft this time for a 45 km ride to the Hook of Holland, where the Rhine flows into the North Sea, creating the SW corner of South Holland province (the Dutch work <i>Hoek</i> actually means "corner," not "hook"). This took us through what must be the greenhouse capital of the world. We went past not acres and hectares but rather square miles and square kilometers, lots of them, covered with greenhouses. The first two photos show two sides of a single one we rode past, called "Garden #4" at the front entry. For long stretches we were continually alongside or near greenhouses on one or both sides of the road.<br />
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Near the mouth of the Rhine is an enormous steel gate painted white that gets rarely used. It swings out from both shores and temporarily closes off the Rhine. Not to hold the Rhine in but to keep the ocean out, for its sole purpose is to protect against a sea surge such as the disastrous one in 1953 that killed 1,836 people in SW Netherlands.<br />
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<span style="text-align: center;">Closer to the sea and to the terminal for the ferry that leaves each morning and evening for Harwich England is a sculpture. It stands, probably not by coincidence, in front of a bunker built by the Nazis during the occupation of the Netherlands in WWII. The plaque in Dutch and English explains its poignant message.</span><br />
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6jLoj1Ac6V0/WzJ9u4YJW0I/AAAAAAAAU5c/zH88sSZ6w-M7fPKhORrFmDok-efReVTaACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0255.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1585" height="400" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6jLoj1Ac6V0/WzJ9u4YJW0I/AAAAAAAAU5c/zH88sSZ6w-M7fPKhORrFmDok-efReVTaACLcBGAs/s400/IMG_0255.JPG" width="395" /></a>Our rented apartment was within a courtyard right off a canal, and the next morning we took some photos of the street and canal in front of our courtyard entrance, and also around the block. What we want to know is, how did the driver get out of the black car without swimming in the canal? We wonder, too, how often cars go for a swim as their drivers position them into tight parking spots this close to the canals? "Sorry, honey, I drowned the car"?<br />
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A photo as we crossed another canal not far away sums up centuries of history for Delft. In the distance is a windmill that was built in the 17th century and modified in the 18th. To the right is a cityscape that dates from the 19th and 20th centuries. To the left is the 21st century, just completed City Hall, which doubles (underground) as the new train station. Use it we did as took the train to Rotterdam, less than 15 minutes and 8 euros (round trip) away.<br />
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The Rotterdam Centraal train station gives you a strong hint that you are in the Dutch city most famous for modern architecture. This is due in part to the tragedy of May 14, 1940, when the German Luftwaffe bombed the heart out of central Rotterdam, despite the fact that the Dutch surrendered before the bombs started falling. The Dutch filled in many of the old canals and with rare exception did not attempt to recreate the old buildings, but rather started anew. They have only gotten bolder as time has moved along.<br />
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A fifteen-minute walk brought us to a vista displaying three boldly modern buildings (actually four, but all you see of the fourth at this point is part of a roof -- hang on, we'll get to it). To the left is the Central Public Library with its form-follows-function yellow heating ducts crawling over and around the building. Next to it is a building the locals call "The Pencil," for obvious reasons. To the right is the <i>Markthal</i>, but to really appreciate this one you need to walk past it toward the pencil and look back. Wow!<br />
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Opened less than four years ago, the <i>Markthal </i>contains 228 apartments, underground parking for over 1200 cars, 100 food stalls, 100+ other shops, dozens of restaurants, and one full service supermarket. <i>And</i> you could slide a 10-story building right through that arch if you disassembled the windows at each end that keep everything comfortable inside. From the inside looking up you can see the mural, which required a supercomputer to plot out. It's called <i>Horn of Plenty</i> to celebrate all the food inside.<br />
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If you go back outside and face the Pencil once again, from closer up, you can now see the entrance to the Rotterdam Blaak train station, known to the locals as "the Flying Saucer." Behind it is a building with bright yellow panels that looks a bit unusual. Walk a little closer and you will see that it's not unusual, it's bizarre. It's the Cube Houses!<br />
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The Cube Houses were designed by architect Piet Blom, who also designed The Pencil. He conceived of each cube as a tree and the group of 38 regular cubes and two supercubes as a forest. In 2009 the larger cubes were converted into a youth hostel, and the other 38 remain homes. Each one has about 1100 square feet (a little over 100 sq. meters), but a bit of that is unusable because of tight corners. So many people pestered the owners for a peek inside that one of them converted his into a museum. We popped for the senior price of 2 euros and took a look around. We'll start on the first floor (after a bit of a hike up the stairs -- this is not a home for the old or arthritic). Here you can relax in the living room and/or check out what the neighbors are up to. In the kitchen you can watch pedestrians and cyclists right below you as you cook or do the dishes.<br />
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On the middle floor you find the bedroom and study. The top floor, which is more of a loft, can be used as a second bedroom, a library or a hideaway. The view is pretty spectacular from there, particularly if you like all this modern architecture. And, come to think of it, you probably do if you bothered to move into a place like this!<br />
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Down at street level we encountered an old <i>bakfiets </i>(cargo bike) that must be fairly weird to ride around corners. To see how weird, look at the second photo. To keep up with all the modern architecture, Rotterdam has a fleet of rental bikes like many other cities nowadays, but check out these bikes! The "spokes" are only on one side, and the drive train appears to be a drive shaft rather than a chain. Since there's a shifter on the handlebar, there's obviously an internal gear shifter inside the rear hub.<br />
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To regain our sense that we were still in the Netherlands, we stopped at a charming cafe for coffee and an <i>appeltaart </i>and a view over a small harbor to "The White House," a pre-war office building that lay <i>just</i> outside the zone of destruction of May 14. To see <i>how</i> close, consider the photo reproduced on a sign down on the street. It shows a view toward the center of the city from the White House taken a few weeks before the bombing. Every building in this photo was destroyed or damaged.<br />
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After our break we continued along the Rhine and looked out, past some incomprehensible sculpture, to the south bank, where a lot of the new action is happening in Rotterdam architecture. The tall building left of center is now the tallest in the Low Countries, though it would be lost in New York or Chicago. Before heading back "home" to Delft we needed one more antidote to our heavy exposure to modern architecture, provided by the green and oh-so-formal garden in a park named, yes, "The Park."<br />
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We were pretty tired by the time we got back to Delft -- we walked about 11 miles -- but still managed to stay upright during an Indonesian feast called a <i>Rijsttafel</i>, literally a "rice table." It started as a Dutch way of boasting about the diversity of cuisines in their colonial empire in the East Indies, today's Indonesia. So for some, it is a colonial vestige best left alone. Nonetheless it remains popular in the Netherlands for a special meal, and in our case it was downplayed a little and came across as less ostentatious and more authentic, in large part because our cafe was a very small one run by an Indonesian family. Twenty or thirty different dishes are not unheard of, but ours was "only" a little over a dozen. Steve and Janet are exercising remarkable restraint as the last dishes are being brought to the table.<br />
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We had one more day in Delft, but we are going to tackle that one in our next entry and end on this day of diverse experiences. We are catching up on the blog and hopefully the next episode will appear fairly soon.Jeff & Louise Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08667329438445463926noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4009287700201166763.post-38311001849746355262018-06-18T11:09:00.001-07:002018-06-18T11:09:18.873-07:00Exploring North Holland with Friends<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Welcome to the 2018 edition of the Redtandem travel blog. This year is starting out with a new twist. Our tandem friends from Seattle, Steve and Janet, are joining us for the first 16 days. Today's blog entry will cover the start of our trip and our wandering about the Province of North Holland, to be followed in a few days (when we find time to write it) by entries about the rest of our joint trip in South Holland and Utrecht Provinces. When we are just below the city of Almere we will head east and Steve and Janet will head west to reunite with their bike luggage, disassemble their tandem, and fly back to Seattle. We, on the other hand, will head on to Germany and later back to the Netherlands. Yes, dear readers, we have another full summer of biking to report on in coming blog entries.<br />
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We started our trip in Alkmaar after a long flight over via Reykjavik and Schiphol airport outside Amsterdam. Alkmaar is a 35-minute train ride from Amsterdam, and like a good Dutch train station has facilities for bike/train commuters that boggle the imagination. This ramp, only part of which we could capture in one shot, holds hundreds of bikes, perhaps even a thousand! It's a weekday, so as you can see a LOT of folks do a bike/train commute!<br />
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We happened to have arrived on the weekend of an annual festival, and the downtown area on Saturday morning was full of interesting characters and gadgets, including a reconstruction of a medieval hoist with which a young girl plus grandpa were raising brother and dad, then lowering them to <i>just</i> above the water. Of course in the old days, this was how they loaded ships that plied the canals into and out of town.<br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9fq9VAB0QqQ/Wyd5GP6mp9I/AAAAAAAAUns/j-K2V3POvawPj0ntUYg7eR257c07E4mzgCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0031.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1308" data-original-width="1600" height="261" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9fq9VAB0QqQ/Wyd5GP6mp9I/AAAAAAAAUns/j-K2V3POvawPj0ntUYg7eR257c07E4mzgCLcBGAs/s320/IMG_0031.JPG" width="320" /></a>Both tandem teams showed up wearing the team socks for ETC, the Evergreen Tandem Club in Seattle. We warmed up with an easy ride into the polders east of Alkmaar, passing several knoopunten that the Dutch use as way-points in their 20,000-mile-long network of bike routes. And, of course, there are windmills out there. This <i>is</i> the Netherlands, after all!<br />
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After one night in Alkmaar to recover from jet lag and to reassemble our two tandems from jumbles of metal parts into working bikes, we moved on to nearby Schoorl. This tiny community sits right next to the largest dune complex in the Netherlands, and by renting a vacation home for four nights we got to explore for three full days, two by bike and one on foot.<br />
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We'll start with a closer-in beach view, where you can see both the natural dunes and the absence of crowds, despite this being a Saturday with temperatures around 68 F / 20 C. Our next two shots were taken from a man-made "observation dune" a dozen km to the north. The beach to the north has a single line of natural dunes supplemented in places by a man-made dike. Looking south (the third and fourth photos) one can see the Schoorl dune complex in the distance, dark green from the many pine trees and small vegetation that keep it in place. It stretches about 5 km east-west and a little more north-south, with some dunes rising as high as 55m / 180 feet above sea level.<br />
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Take another look at the building in the third photo. It's a beach pavilion, of which there are hundreds lining the North Sea coast. They provide meals, coffee, beer, and <i>appeltaarten</i>, slices of apple pie that the Dutch do so very well. A hundred years ago the beach was hundreds of meters/yards wider, and there was even a small fishing village at the edge of the sea, to the right of where the pavilion is now. Beach erosion moved so much of it away that the locals built the sea dike you see as a ridge across the center of the fourth photo. They worried that a big storm might breach it, so in response the beach was rebuilt with millions of tons of dredged sand, and this time planted with grasses that will hopefully keep it anchored. Such is life in the Netherlands, with its constant battle with the forces of moving water.<br />
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Back in the dunes, the biking is great. So unlike much of the Netherlands, with deep woods and undulating paths. In a few spots the trails go by tall dunes. Sorry, this photo doesn't do justice to just how tall the dune behind our tandem is. Suffice to say, it would be very hard to walk up. Nearby is another one that backs up to the center of Schoorl which large numbers of kids and their parents <i>do</i> clamber up, so much so that the town every so often has to scoop up the sand that has been pushed down by all those tiny feet, load it into a dump truck, and haul it around the back way to redeposit it at the top.<br />
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On our walking day we began by passing some interesting houses close by our rental place, then two fellows who were retrimming some thatched roofs. A thatch roof, they told us, might last up to 20 years, but it has to be trimmed every 5 years or so to remove the weathered outer portion of the thatch, with bits of new thatch pushed into any spot that needs a little thickening-up. This job was the first retrimming of the roof they were working on.<br />
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MHl_rEwwh5I/WyeOHhNMhoI/AAAAAAAAUqM/iPeBWdB27DoFPIPGw0rqgkXaA084DrWoACEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_0059.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1139" height="400" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MHl_rEwwh5I/WyeOHhNMhoI/AAAAAAAAUqM/iPeBWdB27DoFPIPGw0rqgkXaA084DrWoACEwYBhgL/s400/IMG_0059.JPG" width="283" /></a>Entering the town we passed the town hall. Not too surprisingly, it is the smallest one in the Netherlands. On the edge of the town is an Outdoors Center that has marked numerous trails through the dunes, all color-coded. We followed the yellow trail up some significant climbs but also many flat sections on ridgetops. The last photo looks northeast toward the typically flat polder land that stretches many, many kilometers into the distance. Our perch is atop one of the tallest dunes, roughly 175 feet above sea level, whereas much of the land below is actually a few feet <i>below</i> sea level. Another one of those Dutch things. Not for nothing is it called the Netherlands, the "low lands."<br />
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It was now time to hit the trail. Our route took us 50 km / 32 mi. south through the dunes of the national park that protects the seashore. We were not alone. Along with numerous cyclists and occasional hikers, we also had Scottish bulls for company. They are living the good life as "wild animals," meaning not destined for anyone's dinner table, but as docile as dinner guests.<br />
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We had a major obstacle to get by, the massive North Sea Canal. This was dug in the mid-1800s by human and animal effort, and it connects Amsterdam with the sea. At the mouth of the canal is a dam and a set of locks. Unlike any other seaside locks we've ever heard of, these locks lift boats UP to the sea, since the normal height of the canal is lower than the ocean except at low tide. We had wanted to take the bike route across the locks, as we did 2 years ago, but it is closed as they are reconstructing them to create the largest sea locks in the world.<br />
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From the north side we could watch large ships entering and headed to the locks 2 km inland. Behind us on the north side was one of the largest industrial complexes we've ever encountered in the Netherlands. Here are views from the west and later from our ferry, looking north.<br />
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Our own ferry was a modest one but it did the job of crossing the canal and taking us into the city of IJmuiden quite quickly. En route we got a good view of part of the port and of the substantially larger ferry that crosses each day to Newcastle in the UK. On the right side of that view is an island with a fort. It dates to the 19th century, but the Germans were happy to take it over during WW II and make it part of the "Atlantic Wall" defenses against an Allied invasion. At least the soldiers manning it never had to face gunfire, though it must have been an awfully boring 4 years waiting for an invasion than never came to this part of the coast.<br />
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A castle ruins greeted us on the outskirts of Haarlem, dating back perhaps to when this view of the city was drawn, centuries back. The "Great Church," <i>aka</i> the Church of Saint Bavo, still dominates the Haarlem skyline today as it did then.<br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9CK8-q3pkvM/WyevfPMMX7I/AAAAAAAAUsk/QL-K-pdXDLYpnJYBf6_XKup2eoGXA0y2ACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0104.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9CK8-q3pkvM/WyevfPMMX7I/AAAAAAAAUsk/QL-K-pdXDLYpnJYBf6_XKup2eoGXA0y2ACLcBGAs/s640/IMG_0104.JPG" width="480" /></a>Of course, it is more impressive still up close. Note the shops clustered about the church, leasing space along the church walls which the church was happy to accept rent for. Somehow, having a gelato shop attached to the church walls has always seemed a bit profane to our North American sensibilities, but apparently not to the folks in this part of the world.<br />
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AFSpsV4H4cg/WyezbZaYJ5I/AAAAAAAAUs8/DDfM3SZL23EhiA4Qga7F0SRmCCsi3HjZACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0138.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AFSpsV4H4cg/WyezbZaYJ5I/AAAAAAAAUs8/DDfM3SZL23EhiA4Qga7F0SRmCCsi3HjZACLcBGAs/s640/IMG_0138.JPG" width="480" /></a>Inside there is so much to see both up, down and at eye level. The floor is pretty much all gravestones, most of them unreadable after centuries of being walked upon. The practice only ended in the early 1800s. Since it required a substantial donation to the church to get one of these preferred eternal resting spots, legend has it that the term "the stinking rich" had its origins in this practice.<br />
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And the box? It's an ancient safe that once held the legal documents that awarded city rights to Haarlem. Note three places for locks. Three different locks with three different keys would be held by three different city officials, an early attempt at creating a "fail safe" way of preventing these precious documents from leaving town.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ahj4n24thcs/Wye6PkwgO4I/AAAAAAAAUt8/CTjxtAF1fdA85YmM4a7piINKkq9RGSw6wCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0122.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="899" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ahj4n24thcs/Wye6PkwgO4I/AAAAAAAAUt8/CTjxtAF1fdA85YmM4a7piINKkq9RGSw6wCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_0122.JPG" width="356" /></a>The church is full of surprises. Some of it we found explanations for, such as the stonework depicting the church official known as the Dog Whipper, who kept dogs who wandered into church in line. The ships were involved in a famous naval battle. The rest? Who knows! Perhaps the fellow to the right could tell us if he weren't so busy biting that stone column.<br />
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DH09HwLZmYk/Wye7kydFq0I/AAAAAAAAUuM/QTAdjDxZ5CESGj-oW78d67jdL8EBzjZggCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0141%2B%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DH09HwLZmYk/Wye7kydFq0I/AAAAAAAAUuM/QTAdjDxZ5CESGj-oW78d67jdL8EBzjZggCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_0141%2B%25282%2529.JPG" width="300" /></a>We had a wonderful seafood dinner the first of our two nights in Haarlem. Steve had so many mussels he started giving them away. Jeff was happy to accept, even after finishing off his prawn dish and his share of a shared plate of calamari. Louise and Janet had monkfish salads and quite enjoyed them. It was just the ticket to prepare us for a day of off-the-bike walking through town the next day.<br />
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We had two destinations. The first was actually a series of points of interest. We had found a walking tour of historic <i>hofjes</i>, meaning "little courtyards" but translated as almshouses. These were founded by wealthy individuals as homes for elderly widows and spinsters. We even were directed to one that was constructed a few years ago, but as "senior housing," which is exactly what the others have morphed into. In the middle ages they would have been rent-free, but the social security network in the Netherlands is robust enough that today's inhabitants pay rent. The last photo is of an equivalent for men, not in the shape of a courtyard but of a row of townhouses. However there was a housemother of sorts who cooked for the gentlemen, who were generally strangers to the art of preparing food for themselves.<br />
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Our next destination was the Frans Hals Museum, though we got distracted en route by some of the more outstanding architecture along the way.<br />
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Frans Hals is renowned as one of the best artists in capturing smiles on his subjects. He certainly did that with these first two paintings, the first called <i>The Fisher Boy</i> and the second, <i>The Innkeeper</i>. The third painting is by another artist, Pieter Roestraten, and <i>The Dissolute Kitchen Maid</i> has more of a leer than a smile on the gentleman's face.<br />
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Hals is also famous for group portraits, a source of rich commissions for artists in the Golden Age of Dutch painting. We'll end with two, first a closeup of part of an enormous canvas, <i>Banquet of the Civic Guard of Saint George.</i> It depicts the farewell dinner ending the three-year commitments of a group of local militia, and it raised the bar for Dutch artists of the time by taking what could be a static collection of portraits and turning it into a dynamic capture of men doing more than staring at the artist. The second group painting <i>is</i> more static, but Hals has at least captured a variety of expressions in this gathering of the women directors (regents) of one of the homes for old men in Haarlem.<br />
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In our next blog entry we'll be headed further south into the Province of South Holland and the cities of Leiden, Scheveningen, The Hague and Delft. Jeff & Louise Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08667329438445463926noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4009287700201166763.post-55508944771273083122017-11-07T10:58:00.000-08:002017-11-07T10:58:40.497-08:00Wrapping Up Our 2017 Travels in LondonWhen we left the Netherlands at the end of August we stopped for 2 nights in London. The owner of the Airbnb place we stayed at let us store the suitcases containing our tandem bike and some bike clothes for 19 days while we explored the north of England. We returned to the same flat for 5 more nights before heading home to Seattle, and that stay is our topic for today's blog, our last for 2017.<br />
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Our first destination was the Tate Britain, one of the finest art museums in the UK and one we ran out of time to see a year earlier, when we spent a week in London. The museum building dates to 1897, but the collection was part of the National Gallery (which has its own building in Trafalgar Square) until the mid-1950s, when the Tate became independent and turned its sole focus to British art. In the 1980s and '90s it spun off two smaller museum branches, the Tate Liverpool and the Tate St. Ives. In 1994 the Tate decided to move its post-1900 collection to a new museum to be built across the Thames, the "Tate Modern." It took six years to convert the abandoned Bankside Power Station into that museum, and it is now a big tourist draw both for its dramatic renovation and for the collection itself.<br />
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But our own love in fine art is mainly <i>pre-</i>1900 art, and we certainly found a trove of it at the Tate Britain, in its fine old building. The museum contains the largest collection on the planet of the work of J.M.W. Turner, so let us start by turning to a few of his paintings: <i>The Decline of the Carthaginian Empire,</i> painted in 1817 right after the decline and fall of the Napoleonic Empire; and <i>The Shipwreck,</i> done in 1805 during the height of the Napoleonic Wars when naval events, including catastrophes such as this, were on the minds of all Britons. While some art is or may seem timeless, the curation at the Tate Britain repeatedly reminded us that art is always created at a particular time, and subject to the fashions, feelings and concerns of that moment.<br />
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These two paintings capture well two things Turner is famed for -- his ability to depict light in a way that presaged the Impressionists who came along a few decades later, and his mastery of images of the sea.<br />
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In 1842, when Napoleon's body was brought from St. Helena to Paris for reburial, Turner executed two complementary paintings he entitled <i>War</i> and <i>Peace.</i> The former depicts Napoleon in exile on St. Helena, the latter a burial at sea near Gibraltar for a painter friend of Turner's. In his later years Turner became increasingly abstract. It's hard to believe he painted these when Monet, often thought of as the first "modern" painter, was only 2 years old!<br />
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But the Tate Britain has works from much earlier, as well as later. This portrait of Queen Elizabeth I was done in 1563, when she was still considering the possibility of marrying. As the curator's notes pointed out, there is considerable symbolism relating to love and fruitfulness in the work, not merely a depiction of the young queen and her elegant dress.<br />
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Another early painting that drew our attention is the view of York in 1639, showing the walls we had walked around only two weeks earlier. If we could find the spot today where the painter stood, then, there would be nothing but streets and buildings blocking the view.<br />
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One of the things we do in the winter in Seattle is to audit classes at the University of Washington. One memorable English Literature class we both took a few years ago was about the very earliest English novels. We read and came to admire <i>Pamela</i> by Samuel Richardson, written in 1740. It is the first lengthy novel in the English language. We were pleased to see both a portrait of Mr. Richardson and his family by Francis Hayman, and a collection of paintings depicting scenes from the novel by Joseph Highmore. The novel is about a maidservant who repeatedly rebuffs the sexual advances of her widowed employer, and ends up reforming and marrying him. The painting we've included depicts the scene where his haughty uncle mistakes Pamela for the daughter of an earl, and realizes his prejudices against Pamela have been foolish. He blesses his nephew's marriage and the novel can now wrap up with a wedding, as so many later novels by Jane Austen, Anthony Trollope and numerous others have done as well.<br />
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Quite the fun work is this 1775 portrait by Joshua Reynolds of 3-year-old John Crewe as Henry VIII. The curator's notes informed us that the influential art critic Horace Walpole praised it for the way in which Reynolds had reduced "the swaggering and colossal haughtiness" of the king to the "boyish jollity of Master Crewe."<br />
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No museum collection of British paintings could ignore John Constable, for he almost single-handedly raised landscape painting to prominence in British art. On our first trip to England in 2013 we visited both East Bergholt, where he grew up, and Flatford Mill, where his father worked and where he painted some of his most famous works. So these next two works, of those two respective locations, resonated strongly with us. We can attest that the area does look much the same today, even though the mill is no longer operating and the canal boats are gone.<br />
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In mid-19th century a group of British painters came together and called themselves the "Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood." They believed painting had become too governed by classical poses and formulas, and sought to bring more complexity of composition, color and detail into British art. One gallery in particular at the Tate Britain was stunning with its collection of some of their most famous work, such as <i>Ophelia</i>, depicting her floating down a river, singing, "her clothes spread wide/ And, mermaid-like, awhile they bore her up." Soon after, Shakespeare tells us, though Ophelia seemed unaware of the danger, "her garments, heavy with their drink, / Pull'd the poor wretch from her melodious lay / To muddy death." The flowers that painter John Everett Millais incorporated into this unusual painting were not randomly chosen, but rather were ones specifically mentioned in Shakespeare's plays, and selected for their symbolism, reflecting the interest of his Victorian public in "the language of flowers."<br />
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The Pre-Raphaelites later became increasingly drawn to medieval themes, and John William Waterhouse's <i>Lady of Shalott,</i> based on a Tennyson poem about a contemporary of the legendary King Arthur, is one of their best-known paintings in this vein.<br />
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Genre painting, or scenes of everyday life, is always interesting for the way it gives insight into the time period when it was painted. Here are two examples, the mid-Victorian (1856) <i>Broken Vows</i> by Philip Hermogenes Calderon, and the late-Victorian (1891) <i>The Doctor</i> by Luke Fildes. The latter was painted shortly after the painter's own son had died, but here the depiction instead is of that first glimmer of hope after a night of fretful watching. The curator let us know that the painter created the scene in his studio, and he and his models got up before dawn for days in order for him to capture the light of breaking day.<br />
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We'll close our visit to the Tate Britain with two more works. <i>The Quay at Liverpool</i> was painted in 1887 by Atkinson Grimshaw, a name we did not recognize, but we would love to see more of his works if they are of this quality. And for an ironic close, there is <i>Nocturne: Blue and Gold - Old Battersea Bridge</i> by James Abbott McNeil Whistler, an American who spent the last half of his life in London, long enough it seems to qualify for admission into the collection of the Tate Britain.<br />
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The next day our focus was on the Tower of London. It is a truly impressive fort, and the scene of an enormous amount of English history, but it is today a place being loved to death by hordes of tourists. It's hard to <i>feel</i> the past in such a place. That said, it was still worth the look about, even if it wasn't the blockbuster event the guidebooks and puff pieces in your Sunday newspaper Travel Section make it out to be.<br />
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The "Tower" is actually a group of buildings containing 22 towers in all. At the heart is the White Tower, once whitewashed and the name stuck. It is surrounded by other buildings, which are themselves surrounded by a moat. The small footbridges in the model are modern -- the only entrances in olden times were by land across the well-protected drawbridge at the bottom left of the model, and by boat through the ominously-named "Traitors' Gate," bottom center in the model plus the following photo. This is where Anne Bolyn entered, among others.<br />
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Though it's hardly cozy, the Tower has been used as a royal lodging, mainly early on. One area has been reconstructed as it might have appeared when King Edward I lived there in the late 1200s. He even had his own private chapel right off the bedroom. <i>Why</i> he needed a chapel so close nearby we will leave to others to puzzle out.<br />
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The Tower of course is famous for a number of folks who were imprisoned and/or executed there, such as Anne Bolyn, who was both. A small exhibit gave one a taste of what it meant to be tortured there, by the manacles or by the rack. Torture was never used as punishment, only to extract information, and only during the 16th and 17th centuries. It's said that the rack did not have to be used very often, just shown to prisoners, to accomplish its task. One person who was not intimidated was the Jesuit priest Henry Walpole, who left his name to posterity on the walls of his cell, one of many who did so.<br />
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By the 20th century the Tower was also pretty much out of the imprisonment and execution businesses, but two Nazis made it into the record books in 1941: a spy who was shot by firing squad, the last person to be put to death at the tower, and Rudof Hess, who was briefly held there after his capture. He has the "honor" of being the last state prisoner in the Tower.<br />
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There are two collections many people flock to at the Tower of London, the Crown Jewels and the hall of armor. The former is a photography-free zone, so you'll have to find photos elsewhere on the web or go there in person. As for the latter, if you've seen one suit of armor you've come close to seeing them all, but we'll make an exception for an exceptional set, the armor made for King Henry VIII. Check out the codpiece!<br />
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The Thames is a major attraction in London. We admired the Tower Bridge from the Tower of London. It was built in the late 1800s in Gothic style to look good in the company of the Tower of London.<br />
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To see much more, we took a boat from Westminster to Greenwich. Westminster is of course where the Houses of Parliament and Big Ben are to be found. A four-year renovation began just a month before we arrived, and Big Ben was silent.<br />
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Our boat took us under numerous bridges. It's hard to imagine today, but from Roman times until 1729 there was only one bridge across the Thames in or anywhere near London. As our boat passed under the most recent span entitled "London Bridge" we could see four more bridges immediately upstream.<br />
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The photogenic Tower Bridge of course needed its picture taken, both approaching it behind a sailing ship with its sails down, and again looking back from downstream. <br />
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The building on the left in the photo above, and in the photo below that was taken a few minutes earlier when we were closer, is known as "The Shard." It is the tallest building in the UK, at just over 1000 feet (300 m) to the highest piece of pointy glass. As we moved further downstream we began to see many apartments in a combination of renovated warehouses and new construction. Since some of the new buildings have been built to blend in, we were not always certain what was new and what was not.<br />
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Our destination was Greenwich, once the site of a royal residence and later famous for its royal observatory. The Welcome Center had a small exhibition that included a wonderful carving of a thoroughly British chap with his pot of ale. It's also where we started a walking tour of the former naval college. The buildings were designed by Christopher Wren, and are now used by the University of Greenwich and by Trinity College of Music. The Queen's House nearby has been converted into an art museum with work relating to Greenwich and the navy, and it contained two paintings of this area. The first is by Canaletto looking the exact opposite way, <i>toward</i> us from the opposite bank across the Thames. The second is by an artist whose name we forgot to capture. Which is too bad, as it is such a marvelously atmospheric image.<br />
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Those buildings by Christopher Wren that later served as the Royal Naval College had actually been constructed as a home for disabled or aged sailors. Yet another painting in the Queen's House captures them in 1835 celebrating the 30th anniversary of the great naval victory at Trafalgar, a battle many of the sailors in the painting had fought in.<br />
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FLYauX2rz_w/WgFU8J3mbPI/AAAAAAAAUkM/J7vlE3U6vAIjc7VsXofS3h8b1-UA3tdcACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_5864.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1067" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FLYauX2rz_w/WgFU8J3mbPI/AAAAAAAAUkM/J7vlE3U6vAIjc7VsXofS3h8b1-UA3tdcACLcBGAs/s640/IMG_5864.JPG" width="426" /></a>Close by is the Royal Observatory, which was built in 1675 by Charles II specifically to help solve the riddle of longitude. The Prime Meridian was designated as a line passing through the observatory. One could see it for free from a few yards away, but to straddle the line where it is clearly marked on the pavement, well <i>that </i>required a fee. So we watched instead as two of the paying customers, a mother and her child, had an inter-hemispheric discussion.<br />
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And then we climbed the hill. It was a hefty haul up, but worth it for the view of the former naval college below us and the metropolis of London spread out far beyond. The closest building, with colonnades to each side, is the Queen's House. It was begun 400 years ago for Queen Anne of Denmark, wife of King James I, but worked stopped when she died before it was completed. It was finished years later for Queen Henrietta Maria, wife of James' successor, Charles I. It is actually a major landmark in British architecture, the first building done in Classical style, as popularized a few decades earlier in Italy by the architect Palladio. As for being a queen's house, it was only used sporadically by Henrietta Maria over a period of seven years. Then came the English Civil War. The building was never used as a royal residence again. Given the many other options they have -- Windsor, Buckingham Palace, Balmoral and more, that's probably not very surprising.<br />
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To return to our lodgings in the center of London we walked two miles to something called the Emirates Air Line Cable Car, which lifted us up high above the Thames to where we could catch the Underground back to our flat. This time there was no effort on our part other than forking over a few pounds sterling. It was well worth it.<br />
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And then it was all over but the trip home. We had chosen to fly from Gatwick, which meant getting almost 3 miles from our flat to Victoria Station to catch the Gatwick Express that would take us to the airport. We had tickets for a 9:15 train. We did a dry run two days earlier from the flat to Victoria Station using the Underground, and found that it took almost an hour and required almost a mile of walking, getting on a subway train with luggage during rush hour, and taking six different elevators. We considered a taxi, but worried we would miss our train and then our flight if the taxi were late picking us up, or got stuck struggling through London traffic. <br />
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Since predictability was what each of those scenarios lacked, we ended up going with a highly predictable method: walking. In 65 minutes we walked across downtown London, a third of the way either through or alongside parks. Jeff pulled three suitcases and a duffel, plus the backpack on his back, while Louise had her own backpack and the bicycle rack trunk slung over her shoulder. It proved remarkably easy, since the suitcases balanced so perfectly and rolled so easily that Jeff at times pulled them with a single finger. It went so well that we even had time to stand in a queue for coffee at the train station.<br />
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We thank you for following our travels across Europe and England this past summer. We look forward to entertaining you as we entertain ourselves with our next trip in the summer of 2018. Nothing is yet decided other than that we're headed again to Europe. Holland and Germany are fairly certain to be on the itinerary, and possibly a new destination, Denmark. Check back next June to find out where in the world Jeff and Louise have gone off to!Jeff & Louise Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08667329438445463926noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4009287700201166763.post-41841567365722903412017-10-31T00:57:00.000-07:002017-10-31T10:16:49.691-07:00Exploring the Yorkshire Dales and Lake Windermere by Rail and on Foot<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Today's blog post will take you with us through the Yorkshire Dales and a short ways into the Lake District. <br />
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The walk began on September 8, and the date on today's blog post shows just how challenging it is to wrap up these blogs, once your trip is over and you're again in your cozy, comfy but oh so busy life back home. [<i>stage direction to reader: give a knowing smile</i>]<br />
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Our journey begins with a ride on the Carlisle and Settle Railway, which many consider the most scenic line in the UK. Since we haven't explored too many rail lines, that's a claim we cannot vouch for, other than to say it was splendidly picturesque and a good whetting of the appetite for part two of the adventure, hiking back through the area on the Dales Way. The train is shown in blue, actually going 110 miles from Carlisle through Settle to Leeds. The hike goes 82 miles from Ilkley to Bowness-on-Windermere, and is shown in red.<br />
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The railway begins in Carlisle, just 10 miles from the Scottish border. We got there by train from Newcastle and had little time between trains to look about, so our photography will begin with some shots from the train itself. The line was built in the 1870s, and the stations and towers along the route do a wonderful job of bringing you back to those Victorian times.<br />
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As we started out, the topography was gently rolling and fairly verdant. This soon changed as we climbed higher into the Yorkshire Dales. At Aisgill Summit we were at 1,169 feet above sea level, the highest point on the line. Please excuse some blurring of the foreground as the shots were taken from our train window, generally as we moved along at up to 50 or 60 mph.<br />
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We were particularly excited to see the area where our walking route would cross under the rail route. The scenery was indeed more rugged in this area. The second shot below was taken as we crossed over the 117 foot (36 m) high Arten Gill Viaduct. Following it are photos we took a few days later, when we approached it on foot and then stood beneath this graceful behemoth.<br />
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The rail line went over two more impressive viaducts, including the famous Ribblehead Viaduct, almost as tall as Arten Gill but much longer at 440 yards (400 m). Below us were hikers enjoying a pleasant walk through the moors. Unfortunately, the day we needed to be hiking this segment, the weather did not cooperate, and we ended up skipping it, as we'll get to later in today's blog.<br />
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After a few days in Leeds which we described in our last blog entry, it was time to tackle The Dales Way. This is a walking route created in the late 1960's by a trio of hiker-activists. It has changed a little over the years, mostly with small tweaks. The trail proper begins in the small town of Ilkley (roughly where the 'H' in 'Harrogate' is in the accompanying map), with recently developed optional connecting trails from Leeds and elsewhere. We opted for the standard 82-mile long version from Ilkley, which we reached by train from Leeds.<br />
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The official start is next to the 17th century Old Bridge, with a nearby sign pointing the way. After walking a short ways we emerged onto the first of many pastures. As we soon learned, one just follows the wear mark of the many hikers who have preceded you. This was usually - but not always - reasonably apparent.<br />
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As we also quickly learned, we would be sharing the Dales Way with thousands of sheep, with a few thousand cows later joining another several thousand sheep.<br />
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To keep all these ruminants in their respective fields, there are numerous fences and walls. One of the easier types to handle was the "kissing gate," so-named for a disappointingly unromantic reason: the swinging part of the gate gently touches, or "kisses" the rounded parts. Less easy to navigate past (and no more romantic) were the stiles. Here are two of the early ones. There were <i>many</i> more, sometimes as much as a dozen in a day!<br />
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A mile or two in, a rainbow appeared. In this case it was <i>not </i>a good sign. Our rain gear appeared on us soon after. It went on and came off five times that day, as showers moved through. The trails by no means became impassable, but we <i>did</i> become well acquainted with mud. Since the rain returned every day for the first 7 of our 9 hiking days, we became very well acquainted indeed, as some later photos will sadly demonstrate.<br />
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Our first point of interest was St. Peter's Church in Addingham. It looks like many others all over England, but it has the distinction of showing off an Anglo-Saxon stone cross discovered in a field next to the church, showing that Christian worship has occurred here for over a thousand years.<br />
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We were down in a valley, following the River Wharfe. High above us were the moors, painted lavender by the late-blooming heather. Then, peeking through a riverside copse, we spotted the ethereal remains of Bolton Abbey. Part of the abbey was not torn down in the 1530s when King Henry VIII ordered all the convents and abbeys of England destroyed, and that portion continues to be used as a parish church. But littered around the churchyard like graves are the remains of the remainder of that once-grand place, which signs re-created for us. It was hard to leave this historic spot, but a look back on the way north helped ease the parting with its beauty.<br />
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Next up was a spot called The Strid, apparently derived from the verb "stride." However, striding is precisely what folks are called on NOT to do. Although the Wharfe narrows down to the point it appears one could stride across, the list is long of persons who have tried and failed -- and drowned. Underneath the rocks are caverns where undertows convey and consume their victims. We stayed put on our side.</div>
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If this valley seems picturesque to you, you're not the first. The renowned artist J.M.W. Turner came here multiple times. A signpost alerted us to a spot near which he painted the ruins of 15th century Barden Tower. Not quite identical to our perspective, so either our spot was not "spot on," or he employed a bit of artistic license, or both. With our telephoto lens we got a closer look at the tower, or what remains of it.</div>
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And that was just the <i>first</i> day. We won't cover the rest in quite that detail, but there were exciting new vistas and discoveries each day.</div>
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As this is our first foray into long-distance hiking in England, we signed up with a company that made all our lodging bookings and arranged with a service that picked up our one suitcase each day and carried it on to the next pub or B&B. Since lodgings did not always appear, or come available, at the distances we wished to do each day to even out the miles, they also arranged a few taxi rides for us. Day two was such a day, and so we found ourselves transported that morning to the hamlet of Appletreewick and its classic British pub, <i>The Craven Arms</i>. As our taxi driver put it, the views that morning were ones we might see again on the covers of biscuit tins and boxes of chocolates, they are so charming.</div>
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iNU1tpHiwGc/WfIdLwZTWXI/AAAAAAAAUS8/N8PpkqRMhCsD4vnYxoHD_AK97njf4fztQCEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_5458.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1292" data-original-width="1600" height="322" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iNU1tpHiwGc/WfIdLwZTWXI/AAAAAAAAUS8/N8PpkqRMhCsD4vnYxoHD_AK97njf4fztQCEwYBhgL/s400/IMG_5458.JPG" width="400" /></a>The pub is named after Sir William Craven, who was born here and went off to London to make his fortune. And that he did, as a merchant tailor. He then turned to politics and became Sheriff of London in 1601 and Lord Mayor in 1610. In 1602 he paid for the construction of a grammar school in nearby Burnsall, and later for the bridge seen below that connects Appletreewick and Burnsall. Both structures are still standing and doing good service. Indeed, the school is said to be the oldest in England to be still operating in its original building.</div>
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It was a day of shorter mileage, with plenty of time to view the River Wharfe both from its bank and from a wiggly bridge spanning it, and to enjoy watching children swinging over it. We even took time for a spot of tea in a local tearoom. We enjoyed that tea a bit too long, however, and a mile from our lodgings had to pull out the rain gear for the second day in a row. It <i>was</i> some great Yorkshire tea, we must admit.<br />
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The next day promised more rain showers and wind, and was scheduled to be 12 miles long. We had discovered that the supposed distances in our guidebook understated what our pedometers were telling us, not to mention our bodies. Despite an easier second day, we were not ready for such a long one. And then there was the hill to consider. The route left the valley and ascended all the way to the moors. No doubt beautiful, but on a better day for weather and bodies better hardened to the challenge. And so we found ourselves back in the taxi, skipping that part of the hike. As it was we still hiked 10 miles, thanks in part to a pond that had formed on the trail, forcing a 2-mile detour.<br />
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We started in Kettlewell next to its two pubs, the streets still wet from a rain which was just stopping. Our detour occurred leaving town, so we came back and got to depart from Kettlewell a second time, this time along a quiet road. One car came by in the next hour. The valley was full of old stone storehouses, now empty but once upon a time filled with hay. The hillsides were criss-crossed by stone walls, most of them built 2-300 years ago when the enclosure movement saw the land divided up as it was converted from common land into separately-owned sheep meadows. In one of those curious convergences of history, the farmers being dispossessed from the land ended up in factory towns like Leeds where newly-invented machines put them to work creating yarn and woven fabrics with all that wool, plus cotton just starting to come in from the U.S. and India.<br />
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We reached our destination of the George Inn, but it was too early so we visited the church just across the way. A local fellow carved little mice into the pews and other woodwork a few hundred years ago, and we spent quite some time finding and photographing a few of the elusive wooden rodents. The church is also famous for a rood arch, a carving that stands in front of the altar. It was disassembled and hidden for a few decades when Protestant extremists were wandering about the land, destroying statues and carvings like this as "Romish" and idolatrous. The mice, apparently, were neither to these gangs.<br />
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As we headed out the next morning we passed a drover's road leaving the valley. A few hundred years ago drovers brought sheep on the hoof down these valleys, headed to market. They trusted the towns as being safe, but between towns they preferred to climb up into the treeless meadows. Too many trees and bushes where brigands and sheep thieves might be hiding, down in the valley, you know. We did not encounter any, but we did find the going tough thanks to the wet weather, the occasionally rough trail, and the narrow bridges and stiles. The sheep looked like they would also be an impediment but sheep are -- well -- sheepish, and walk away when they see you getting close.<br />
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Our walking was interrupted by two wonders. The first was a stone circle that goes back to the time of the Druids. As with Stonehenge, no one knows quite what it was built for. The second was the shortest river we have <i>ever</i> seen. This area is underlain by limestone, through which rivers are known to flow underground. Sure enough, the river in question emerged from a foot-high "cave," flowed 20 or 30 feet, then sank back into the nether world. How strange!<br />
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As it turned out, we were about to be done with the Wharfe River. A short way past a riverside picnic spot we turned around and walked back to our lodging for that night.<br />
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This step was part of the plan our walking company had set out for us, since the walk to the lodging that day would otherwise have been too short, and the next day too long. A taxi was to pick us up the next morning and take us back up the valley, and we were to then continue to the top of the valley, across the moorland and down into a new valley.<br />
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But we decided otherwise. The temperature was to be in the low 50s. Headwinds were predicted at 18-20 mph. Rain, not showers, was expected. The mileage was said to be 12, which probably meant 14 when you factored in detours, getting lost, etc. And it was the hilliest segment on the whole route.<br />
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So when the taxi came the next morning, our driver took us <i>down</i> the valley to a bus, which took us to a train, which brought us within 2 miles of that night's lodging. We missed walking across the moor once again, but we also missed some truly rotten weather, and that's a trade-off we could live with. Here is the map showing our two skipped sections.<br />
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We still managed to hike 6 miles, since we walked about Skipton and toured it's impressive castle, and did more than just walk from that train station to our lodging.<br />
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Over the entrance of Skipton Castle is the Clifford Family motto, <i>Desormais </i>(Henceforth). During the English Civil War a garrison of 300 Royalist soldiers held fast the fort during three years of siege by the Parliamentary rebels. They never surrendered, but rather left under a truce when it became obvious the Royalists had lost everywhere else. The castle was allowed to stay in the Clifford family on the condition its defenses were removed. Lady Anne Clifford did just that and planted a yew tree in 1659 to celebrate the end of the reconstruction, which still stands in the courtyard. But Lady Anne died without heirs in 1676, and the castle ended up in other hands after all.<br />
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Though there are a few reminders of its military past, such as these windows for archers, for the most part Lady Anne's remodel has made the place look airy with all those windows, more like a country home than a garrison. Several rooms had drawings to help us picture what it once looked like "back in the day," such as the former banquet hall.<br />
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The train was again the Carlisle and Settle Line, except that this time we alighted at Dent Station. Some cranberry-colored heather was growing next to the station, the only time we got close to this vibrant flower that we have seen from below as it has colored the high moors.<br />
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We descended a mile into the valley of the River Dee, which we would be following the next day. To our left was the Arten Gill Viaduct, over which our train had just ridden, and which we showed you other photos of earlier in today's blog entry. Down in the valley, hidden by the foliage, was our lodging for the night, The Sportsmen's Lodge. Inside, it was obvious that everyone staying there was hiking the Dales Way. We ran into a fellow-hiker we had met a day or two before, who confirmed that we would have had a very long wet and windy day on the high moors, had we plunged forward as he had.<br />
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We had by now done 5 of our 9 days hiking the Dales Way, with rain on each of those 5 and rain forecast for at least the next 2. We were getting leery about the trails, as they sometimes had been exceptionally muddy and we did not have high ankle boots, like those in the photo above. The mud also had a way of coating our pant legs. Increasingly we took the roads nearby, and had no trouble with traffic for there was scarcely any.<br />
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The roads were <i>almost</i> always dry. In the one or two instances where we had to walk through puddles, they proved to be shallow enough for our more-or-less waterproof hiking shoes.<br />
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But we could not do the whole walk on roads, as the route sometimes had to cut through pastures and down along waterways where there were no nearby roads. This usually went OK, but not always.<br />
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That last one was a humdinger, and we were lucky we did not have our shoes sucked off our feet by the mud.<br />
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We continued to see quite a few sheep, including one who seemed to have fallen asleep and a neighbor who was headed that way. We wonder if he or she was counting humans? Meanwhile others grazed contentedly, while the hills above turned lavender-red once again with swatches of blossoming heather.<br />
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We increasingly saw cows, including some belted varieties and another group displaying inter-breedal harmony.<br />
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As we neared Sedbergh we had a good preview of this, our destination for the night, and also of what the Brits call a "great house" on the edge of town. But an even greater house was this cottage we passed on the way in, and its owner. She won an award for the best small house garden in England one year, she was pleased to tell us, but she regretted she wasn't quite keeping it "up to snuff" since her husband passed away a few years ago. Don't know about <i>your</i> snuff but it seemed quite up to ours, and a long way beyond!<br />
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She wasn't the only person with creative genius in that town. Her neighbor cracked us up with some rubber boot art.<br />
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We continued next day on roads rather than the Dales Way path that we feared would bog us down again in mud. It was hillier, but when you climb a hill you generally get a view, and we got plenty. At times we were at the edge of the cultivated part of these valleys, with only the moorland to our right. Except that we were in one of those areas (Scotland and the Isle of Man are the others) where the term "fell" is preferred over "moor," a linguistic remnant of the Viking invasions of England that began in 793.<br />
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At times the roadway was closed in by hedges that could climb over 10 feet. We listened carefully for cars coming around these blind turns, but few came at all, and none at a time we were in an awkward spot. Another danger was a plant we never learned the name of, but which we did learn to avoid. Just the slightest rubbing of the fine teeth on both its stem and its leaves against your skin, and you were soon grinding your own teeth in pain.<br />
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From our perch on the hill we got a long, long preview of the Lowgill Viaduct and its 11 arches, the highest of which is equal to a 9-story building. It sits by itself today, unconnected to any train line or trail, as useful and brooding as one of those Easter Island figures. When we got closer we could see that it is "bleeding" lime from its joints. Hopefully this is no more than a cosmetic issue.<br />
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We crossed the Crook of Lune Bridge and sat down on a stone to have a picnic lunch. The owner of a house nearby spotted us, came by to chat, then left and returned with cups of tea. <i>Then</i> he invited us in to see his house! It was a former mill built in the 1750s (that's the millstream next to it), and he had converted the ancient wooden mill wheel into a wine cellar!<br />
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With all the roads we had been able to take that day, we thought we were going to have our first mud-free 24 hours. Alas, not to be. A mile from our B&B we had to share an overpass above the M6 Motorway with a herd of cows. They weren't on the bridge at the moment, but they'd left a good bit of the muck from their pasture on the bridge for us.<br />
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As for the B&B, it more than made up for things. It was a classy remodel of an old stone barn. There are no restaurants nearby, so part of the deal is that the owner drives you 6 miles in to Kendal, where there are dozens of them, then picks you up when you're done.<br />
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For our eighth day we started out again taking roads rather than the Dales Way trail, and found our own sort of beauty in the countryside and small towns we walked through. Back on the trail before lunchtime we spotted Kendal in the distance. The trail misses it by several miles, though some walkers stay overnight there by taking a train from a town that <i>is</i> on the trail.<br />
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The Dales Way is not all footpath -- 15 or 20% of it does in fact consist of country roads, and one such stretch took us past Burneside Hall. The impressive towers went up in the late 1300s. The rest has been patched on over the centuries. It remains a working farm. Just beyond the Dales Way turned to take one more footpath, but we kept on and found a road that was certainly as atmospheric as any trail nearby.<br />
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At last, the final day! We stayed on the Dales Way route almost the whole day, and encountered no significant mud or other problems. We were now in the northern reaches of the Pennines, the mountain range that runs up the west side of England, and the air was reasonably clear so the views were good.<br />
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We weren't above the timber line, but it <i>was</i> quite open and rocky, and almost treeless.<br />
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Finally, what we had been straining to see all day came into view -- Lake Windermere far below us, at this point only a thin line of blue water hidden by hills, even though it is the largest lake in England.<br />
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It was a loooong way down to the lake, and hiking downhill is not all that much easier than going uphill. But the end was near, so it was time to celebrate, then catch our breath at a bench marking the official end of the Dales Way.<br />
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Before heading back to London we spent two more nights close to Windermere, in the town of Ambleside. We took a boat ride partway across the calm lake to Wray Castle, a mock-Gothic "castle" built by a mid-Victorian doctor as a summer home. It is now owned by the National Trust.<br />
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From there we hiked along the shore to another boat landing, where we took a pair of boats that brought us back to Ambleside via a stop for lunch along the way. As you can see, we did get a good look at this large lake, the mansions that line it and the mountains that loom over it!<br />
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This has been an interesting adventure. We are no strangers to long bike trips, as our regular readers well know, but we have never before done a long hike. The hiking company helped us with logistics in a country which was so sufficiently foreign to us, that we needed such help. Our next trip, <i>if</i> there is to be one (a possibility but not yet a probability) is one we could and would plan ourselves, for a bit less money and a much more accommodating pace.<br />
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But we are also so very happy to have done this hike. The landscape was glorious, and the challenge is one we were able to meet, albeit with a few tweaks such as some taxi and bus rides. We've come away understanding, and deeply loving, this part of England.<br />
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Our next and final stop for this year's trip is a five-night stay in London. We'll take you there in our next and final blog post for 2017.</div>
Jeff & Louise Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08667329438445463926noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4009287700201166763.post-45971547269757694032017-09-23T13:49:00.001-07:002017-10-12T17:22:18.405-07:00Exploring York, Newcastle and Leeds by Rail and on Foot<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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After 90 days of exploring the continent by bike, it was time to head to Merrie Olde England to do some exploring by rail and on foot. We took the Eurostar train to London via Brussels, passing under the English Channel through the so-called Chunnel. Although it cuts the speed to 160 kph (100 mph) for the Chunnel section, aboveground the train did hit a high of 297 kph (185 mph), and let us know alternately in English, French and Dutch. The ride was remarkably smooth, the seats were spacious and comfortable, and there was ample room for our ample luggage. It was a good experience.<br />
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We spent 2 nights in London, but mainly spent the time recovering from the hectic pace of the past few weeks. Indeed, less than 48 hours after arriving, we were off again, this time to explore York, Newcastle and Leeds, which we will tell you about in today's blog entry.<br />
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In the following blog entry we will carry you on to the Carlisle and Settle Railway, reputedly England's most scenic, which we took on the way to Leeds. We are holding off on this segment because its route crosses the Yorkshire Dales, where we did an 80-mile+ hike on the Dales Way right after Leeds. The Dales Way is one of the UK's most famous long walks. And in fact we crossed right under the Carlisle and Settle as we did that walk, so better to talk about them together.<br />
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We will close the summer two blog entries from now with a return to London, where our luggage will (hopefully) be awaiting us in the same apartment. At least that's the deal with the fellow renting us the flat through Airbnb.<br />
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York is not an overly large city, just over 200,000, but it is an ancient one, having been founded as <i>Eboracum</i> by the Romans in 71 AD. When the Norse took over a few centuries later they called in Jorvik, from which the current name evolved.<br />
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York has the best-preserved city walls in the UK, and it was our first destination. Parts of it were dismantled over the centuries, but not extensively, and we were on the actual wall for over 3/4 of the<br />
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While the walls were not overly high, they were no doubt still a substantial impediment to would-be attackers during the Middle Ages, as you can see from these shots showing the outer surface of the walls.<br />
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The walk along the walls took us at one point past remains of a Roman defensive wall, and also to something called Clifford's Tower, the sole remains of a large Castle that once added to the defense of the city. Its main function nowadays is that of relieving tourists of some of their pounds and pence in exchange for a slightly elevated view of the city.<br />
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We interrupted our walk at one of the medieval gates, which had rooms inside where coffee, tea and cakes were served, which could then be taken up to a sitting area on the roof. A much more civilized way of getting that improved view, sipping a cup 'a tea, wouldn't you say?<br />
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Aside from the walls, the other main landmark of York is the Minster, or cathedral. It's kind of hard to miss, even from the back streets. It's reasonably impressive from up close as well.<br />
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We needed a place for lunch, and didn't want just any old thing. What would be special? Why, golly, here's an old inn serving beef pie and sausage pie, the <i>Black Swan.</i> And they've been doing this sort of thing since the 15th century!<br />
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As we came back to where we started our wall walk we encountered two gems. First was the Multangular Tower, the lower part of which was built by the Romans in the 3rd century, with the upper part rebuilt in the Middle Ages. Adjacent to it is a park that incorporates yet another of the many abbeys that King Henry VIII had torn down in the 1530s. We were amused by the use of some of the stone from the abbey to create a retaining wall for the plantings.<br />
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For the next day our target was the National Railway Museum, the largest train museum in the UK. It was a great collection of trains, both locomotives and passenger cars. We'll start with some of the former, including one that was partially cut open to show what the innards look like. If you had a spare half hour you could read the full description of what each of the dozens and dozens of parts did to make the thing move forward. In the last two photos we give you a sense of the size of these things. The one Jeff is standing behind, by the way, was on a turntable, which they demonstrated the use of by giving it a spin while we were there.<br />
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There is a replica of the first truly successful steam locomotive, Stephenson's <i>Rocket</i> of 1829, and its interesting passenger coach, looking of course very much like a stagecoach. We still use the term <i>coach</i> today for a railway passenger car, even though they've evolved a bit. Indeed, the museum has an excellent collection of deluxe coaches used by various kings, queens and other British royalty. We took photos of several, but not precise notes about which was which, so you'll just have to visit the museum yourself to find out which was Queen Victoria's, which was King George's, and so on.<br />
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One last icon of York needed to be explored, said the guidebooks, so off we went in search of <i>The Shambles</i>, an area of narrow, twisting lanes now overloaded with tourists. There were some nice shops, however, and we even managed to find a very nice wool sweater vest that Jeff will be putting to good use this coming Fall.<br />
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Our third and final day in York actually saw us taking a bus an hour north, to Castle Howard. It is not a castle but rather a stately home, built over 300 years ago for one branch of the Howard family. If it looks somewhat familiar, that might be due to the fact that it was used extensively in both the movie and serialized tv versions of <i>Brideshead Revisited.</i><br />
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It's an impressive place, but not a particularly cozy one. It was meant to dazzle, to overwhelm, perhaps even to intimidate. It largely succeeds in these endeavors. It is, of course, quite large and formal. You are greeted in the entry by the first several lords of the manor. You are not likely to mistake them for your favorite kind uncle. After a stroll past various antiquities you might look down into the hall beneath that impressive dome, or visit the Great Hall, where masterpieces of art adorn the wall and impress you with the wealth of folks who could afford to pick up a Rubens here and a Constable there, and to put them in a hall so large it was used for exercise on rainy days (17 times around equal a mile).<br />
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A few of the rooms were "done up" to show how they looked when they were at their finest, but often it was the quality of the art work on the walls that most impressed us. The last photo in the group below illustrates the sort of art that was collected in the 17th and 18th century as the equivalent of a postcard a few decades ago, or a travel blog like this one today, announcing that the owners had taken the "Grand Tour" and seen these intriguing sites in Italy and elsewhere.<br />
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The Howards were, like the fictional inhabitants of the place in <i>Brideshead Revisited, </i>Roman Catholic, and they had the chapel redone by some of the finest artists in England in the mid-1800s, various members of the so-called Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood. It is stunning.<br />
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We took a tour around the outside and learned that the left half of the first photo below actually shows the working part of the castle, where the staff lived and worked at cooking, washing, repairing and the like. Our guide also pointed out oddities like the <i>ersatz</i> pyramid and Greco-Roman temple built to create a "Romantic" or mysterious atmosphere.<br />
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We'll close our visit to Castle Howard with some photos from their beautiful garden.<br />
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Our next stop for today's blog is Newcastle. Louise's Cutter family ancestors left here for Boston in the 1630s. Forty years ago her dad and mom visited Newcastle and were able to find the ancient family home, which had remained in the Cutter family into the early 1900s. Alas, her folks left no notes and she and her brothers could not come up with enough clues to where this house might be, or whether it is still standing today.<br />
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So we went a bit further back into history, once again to the Romans. Newcastle was the original east end of Hadrian's Wall, then it was extended 6 miles to the east to a place which is now named, unsurprisingly, Wallsend. Here, 1110 miles from Rome, we followed what is now called "Hadrian's Path" as it traces the route of the wall 84 miles across England, to the Irish Sea. But not today. We only walked the easy 6 miles back to Newcastle (we came out on Newcastle's light rail). While there are bits and pieces of the wall elsewhere, the only trace we saw of the Romans were tracings of the foundation stones for a Roman bath built for the guards stationed at this distant foreign outpost.<br />
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One reason so little remains is that the estuary leading up to Newcastle was so busy. Coal of course was a main commodity, but also things made from coal. We passed a sign warning folks not to go in the water in one particular location, as it is still contaminated by chemicals that leached from the St. Anthony Tar Works. The factory once stood here where it could easily unload coal from one set of ships and load the finished tar products onto others for shipment elsewhere.<br />
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For the most part, however, the walk was pleasant and green and unencumbered by dire warnings, and eventually Newcastle came into view. Soon after, we passed an unusual footbridge for pedestrians and cyclists, and then a flurry of bridges, four in the span of a few hundred yards, connecting the city with the rest of England to the south by road and rail.<br />
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ibcn_6Ann-s/Wca1q65JHcI/AAAAAAAAUKw/yrtm1Ut5TWEcYApVuL5zRq_TbB7W3mjbACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_5354.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ibcn_6Ann-s/Wca1q65JHcI/AAAAAAAAUKw/yrtm1Ut5TWEcYApVuL5zRq_TbB7W3mjbACLcBGAs/s640/IMG_5354.JPG" width="480" /></a>As mentioned above, we took a local train to Carlisle the next day, then the storied Carlisle and Settle line all the way to Leeds. We'll get back to that train trip in the next blog, and instead jump ahead to the busy city of Leeds. With a population of 3/4 million people, it's the third-largest city in the UK. It became a major manufacturing center for wool and other goods during the Industrial Revolution, and it remains an industrial city but with substantial financial and technology sectors today.<br />
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It has always also been a market town, and in the 19th century it built Victorian equivalents to today's shopping malls. Folks then probably came in by rail, and these malls (or <i>arcades </i>as they're locally called) are not far from the station. They are still there, some a bit somnolent but others filled with shops and shoppers. Here's a spin through the ones we found:<br />
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That last one, as you might have guessed, was only recently created by putting a glass roof over a street with handsome Victorian shops already there, but it's no less attractive for that.<br />
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We spent a half day walking the Leeds end of the Leeds-Liverpool Canal that still connects the two cities by a route that is 127 miles long. It starts right next to the train station, in the heart of town, with old canalside factory buildings surrounded by modern office towers. It's an active canal with working locks, though the users these days are almost entirely recreational. The lockkeepers are long gone, and a canalboat user today gets instructions and a key to operate the water valves and the lock gates at each of the locks along the way.<br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3cTGw1WYtuc/Wca-F7rTPVI/AAAAAAAAUL8/XjuauUC76uAzCN1AbiG9-VYnvC9ytrCowCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_5388.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3cTGw1WYtuc/Wca-F7rTPVI/AAAAAAAAUL8/XjuauUC76uAzCN1AbiG9-VYnvC9ytrCowCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_5388.JPG" width="480" /></a>Three miles from town we came to what is now the Leeds Industrial Museum. When it was built it was the largest woolen mill in the world! As a museum it was so-so, but it did have a Jacquard loom set up to demonstrate the way the intricate patterns were programmed with variable pasteboard cards.<br />
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Each card represented one line of weaving, with a warp thread on the loom lifted or not depending on whether there was a hole in the card, or not. Change each line and you end up with a pattern, like the fabric sample laying on the machine.<br />
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Our older readers will no doubt recognize the similarity of these cards to the old IBM punch cards that dominated computing a few decades ago. The idea for the punch cards came of course from these Jacquard looms.<br />
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The museum also told an interesting story of the rise and fall of the tailoring trade in Leeds. With fine wool fabric coming out of the factories, companies were formed to create men's and women's suits to order, or "bespoke" as they say in England. You went to your tailor in London, selected a fabric from a sample book, looked at examples of suit designs, and got measured. A few weeks later one or more of the 10,000+ tailors in Leeds produced the suit you wanted, custom-fit to you. The system continued through WW II, when it was military uniforms coming off the line, but global competition has cut it way back. There are still several firms, however, that continue the tradition of bespoke tailoring in Leeds.<br />
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Our next and final destination in the area was as different from wool and fine suits "as chalk and cheese," to use a common British idiom. We headed by train and then bus to the National Coal Museum 30 miles to the southwest of Leeds.<br />
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The museum sits above a former coal mine and employs former coal miners as tour guides. While there are a few things to see above-ground, it's the below-ground tour that is the heart of a visit here. Since the dangers of gas seepage do not go away even when a mine is no longer mined, there are strict rules about what may go down with you. What may NOT go down is a battery of any kind, be it part of a flashlight, a wristwatch, a computer tablet, a camera, or pretty much ANYTHING else other than a hearing aid battery. So we cannot bring you any photos, but we can tell you that it is somewhat cramped down there, particularly for 6' 2" folks like Jeff, whose hard hat took a bit of a beating. And it is <i>spooky </i>dark when all the spark-proof lamps we were issued were turned off, as they were at one point.<br />
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We also came away with an appreciation for what a very difficult and dangerous job this was. It seems that each time one danger was ameliorated, a new one arose, such as the noise damage from new machines that grind the coal out instead of blowing it up with explosives. There is an awful lot of coal still lying underneath the UK, but at this point in time, <i>none </i>of it is being mined anymore thanks to cheaper and less dangerous (though ecologically awful) strip mining in the US and elsewhere. The very last mine in the UK closed in December 2015.<br />
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We can't leave you image-less, however, so here are a few from our visit -- some of the above-ground buildings and the conveyor belt that carried the coal up to where it could be cleaned and sorted; one of the signs educating us on just how dangerous coal mining was; and three objects made by miners from lumps of coal in their spare time, including a pair of fake "boots."<br />
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And let's not leave the National Coal Museum without a shot or two of some coal as it comes from the mine. We were invited to take a piece with us. Since this was at the end of our three-city visit, there was no risk of us "carrying coal to Newcastle," but we're not sure we need any in Seattle either. It stayed put.<br />
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Hope to show you some fine pictures of the Yorkshire Dales and the Dales Way walk in our next blog entry.Jeff & Louise Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08667329438445463926noreply@blogger.com0