It begins with procrastination and a bad night of sleep

Because obviously that’s how you want to start your first ever bike tour. But I’ve led a charmed life and have never really suffered the consequences of poor planning, and I’m a Steele, so obviously I chose a video-beer with a friend instead of actually looking at a packing list and organizing myself. That could wait until…another tour. At the very least I had my routes mapped out. About 110 km out, camp, and a different 110 km or so back. Only one night. Where to camp was another question, as it was unclear whether hotels or campgrounds were open, though resolving that would get skipped for beer too. But I mean, with a tent and a sleeping bag, it couldn’t go that wrong, right?

So, disorganized and in a hurry, this is what I wound up with:

You may be thinking, “Man, that’s a lot of shit for one night, surely he didn’t need it all.” A) yes, it was 11kg worth of stuff, and B) you’re not wrong, but that’s beside the point. The keen-eyed among you may even note the tags on the tent and sleeping bag. I couldn’t possibly have made the rookie mistake of waiting until the campsite to put the tent up for the first time ever, right? Wrong.

And, to top it off, I still managed to forget things (chargers for the iPhone and bike computer, among others).

So, slept poorly, packed in a rush, had no plan for where to sleep, never tested out the tent, overpacked, but still forgot things. Rock and roll!

Once on the bike though, it ceases to matter

Figuratively speaking, of course. Literally speaking, the extra matter matters a lot. But once I got Viola (my beautiful purple bike) all packed, got the route loaded up on my GPS unit, and started pedaling my way out of Berlin, the concerns faded away faster than the city noise behind me.

I had figured 110 km would be about 4 hours of riding, so I aimed to stop for lunch a couple hours in. Conveniently, because of my late start, this was a perfect lunch time, around 1.30pm. My first attempt landed me in a place that only offered variations on Bratwurst or Schnitzel. Wasn’t in the mood, so decided to ride further, and hit a town on a glorious little lake. The town had more options, so I picked myself up some pastries and sat down to enjoy my sweets on the lake shore.

The post-lunch 55 km went smoothly, cruising through gently rolling wooded hills or pasture land. Delightful. And just about right on my 4-hour estimate.

So, where to sleep

Having at least looked at google maps before embarking, I knew there was one place to camp that I wanted to check out first. I had actually called and got no answer, and emailed and got no answer, but I rolled over anyway. Turns out, they were open to day visitors, but corona restrictions meant that camping or staying in the hotel was not yet allowed. Legally. Armed with a smile and looking rather pathetic in my sweat-caked cycling kit, I asked if it might be possible anyway. I’m all alone, I said. I don’t even need a shower, I claimed (though I definitely did need a shower). Well, charmed life indeed. No problem, I could camp. No shower, but also no problem.

Setting up camp was a breeze. The REI bivvy sac went up in seconds, and then I ran around like an idiot trying to catch enough air to inflate my dumb little lounger. I carted that extra 1.5 kg all the way there, I was sure as shit going to make use of it. And perhaps because I looked so ridiculous chasing air in my sweaty cycling kit, my hosts offered me a beer, on the house. No complaints there!

More bad sleep and nice roads

Night set in, and despite falling asleep with the setting sun (almost 10pm), I was awakened by a party in the town not too far away (talking couple hundred meters here) which was blasting god-awful techno remixes of top-40 hits. Like Adele. Come on!

Anyway, as the tunes faded out around 2am, so did my consciousness, though the sun and the birds brought me back to life again around 5. I managed to doze until 7, then set about beginning the return trip. I took down camp, grabbed a coffee and a couple pastries in a cafe in town (even sitting down inside, as Germany is pretty advanced when it comes to relaxing corona restrictions), and headed off. As with the first day, any worries about low batteries or lack of sleep quickly dissolved into the rhythm of my spinning legs as I wound my out of town.

Almost immediately thereafter, I lost myself in the scenery, and before I knew it I was more than halfway home.

Halfway turned into most of the way, and I quickly realized that touring suited me and I could easily have gone another day. Or two. Or two months. The Germans say that the best kind of joy is anticipation (it sounds better in German), and in this particular case they would be right. After getting just a tiny taste, I’m now looking forward to my trip even more. Whenever it happens!