Lunéville to Altenheim
Memory is a funny thing. Writing this blog a few months later, I don’t have a lot of recollection of the events of that morning (although it must have been the usual routine anyway). But I do still remember a lurid dream which I was still in the middle of when the watch alarm pulled me out of my sleep. I was involved in some James Bond-esque chase high up on the yellow crane arms of the trash loading warehouse. Given I have no head for heights, it was something of a relief to be woken from it TBH.
Lunéville – 06:00
Slipping quietly out of the courtyard, I dropped the room key in the box by reception and mounted up in the street. I don’t really remember how dark it still was, but I do remember putting my lights on for the first bit back out of town. Which involved going around 3 sides of the block the hotel was on rather than just turning left and going the short way. I have no idea now why I took that route. Most likely I was just following the GPS.
I also only vaguely recall the punchy little hill back up to the ridge above the turn. I do remember it started in a suburb called Jolivet on the edge of the main town, but according to the GPS log it hit 8.5% in places which I have no real recollection of, even after checking Google Street View. Which incidentally, has such a cute picture of the road I just had to include it. I didn’t encounter so much livestock on my passage of it, although by that stage dawn had broken and I did at least see it all in daylight.
The run back downhill to the canal took very little time. I vaguely remember looking closely at the village by the canal just in case there was an early boulangerie open, but there were no signs of life in the parts I went through. At just 8km into the day, it was too early to stop anyway, so I dropped down onto the towpath, settled myself onto the tri-bars and blasted along, keen to grind out some of the remaining 150km for today.
The next hour and a half flashed by and although I can visualize patches of the scenery, a lot of it was quite similar so it’s hard to single out individual spots. The cycle path did take a lovely route – always following the canal, but through a mix of woodland, pastures, and occasionally flanked by water on both sides (perhaps large natural lakes, or maybe old gravel workings). At almost bang on the 40km mark though I came upon a sight so unusual that I’m surprised not to find any photo of it. I do remember stopping, and I was sure I had grabbed a shot. In the absence of a picture though it was just a dim memory that led me down a timely Google rabbit hole in the search to find it. And I nearly missed it, because the Google Street View picture of Écluse Réchicourt-le-Château is just a dull concrete wall – obviously taken before the regional parks authority had the brilliant idea to paint it and turn it into a climbing wall. To illustrate the contrast, I include before and after images (the latter by gracious permission of the owner on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/destinationterresdOH ).
A short way beyond, I did stop for a photo just outside Gondrexange. With water on both sides of me once again, the pool to my right was so pretty with the town set across it that I grabbed the cover photo for this entry (the only one I took from this early section of riding). Although it’s shame not to have more photos, the lack of stops did mean that with only around 2.5 hours of riding, I was already a third of the way into the day.
My pace dropped a little after this point – I was hankering for a café stop, but wasn’t finding anything along the route. My cue cards prompted me to take a detour away from the canal into the village of
Héming, but the places I’d marked weren’t open. It was warming up and I was frustrated not to find somewhere for coffee and a break. The route had hopped over the canal on small bridges a few times. On the right bank I was often in shade, but the left was more often exposed in full sun. Don’t get me wrong, the riding was still absolutely lovely – I just needed to be off the bike and not riding for a bit. In Xouaxange I left the canal path again, but once more the café there wasn’t open yet. Nothing either through Hesse – aside from a detour where the V52 left canal briefly to follow what looked like another old rail trail, before rejoining the canal again after the village. My usual luck at finding places was definitely absent at this particular moment. Luckily, about 15km beyond where the coffee cravings had first started the V52 veered away from the canal and up to the village of Niderviller. On reaching the town high street, I glance right and spied what I had been missing. Finally – an open bakery!
Niderviller – 10:00
There was a bit of a queue – but there was a table in the shade outside, and the food and cakes looked superb. A small door to the left of the bakery counter led to a small bar/tabac area. The lady at the counter quickly organized a coffee and juice for me, and told me she’d bring it to my table. Armed with snacks from the bakery, I collapsed into a chair and enjoyed the view. It suddenly struck me that not only did the town names I’d be passing through have a Germanic sound to them, the people around me seemed to be speaking both French and German. I realised that at some point in the morning I must have crossed over into the Alsace region. It’s somewhere I’ve never really visited before, so hadn’t been prepared for this sudden mixing of cultures. Having waited so long for my stop, I savoured the full 30 minutes I sat there. I do remember chatting with customers at another table, but can’t recall now what we spoke of.
The section after my break I remember very well – in part I guess because I was rested and fuelled up again, but more because there was a definite transition both in riding and scenery. The route went fast, flat, and mostly straight towpath to a steep hill. The scenery reflected this change too – no longer flatlands but countryside that went from rolling to almost mountainous. I can’t remember if I saw the mouth of the canal tunnel where road veered right away from its side. I do recall a couple on e-bikes calling out “hi” to me as they went past. I made no effort to catch them – even though their pace was barely higher than mine, it was way too hot for any needlessly completive antics.
They were still in view at a right turn ahead, where the V52 left the road onto and odd sort of cycle path. A proper, car free, tarmac path across the middle of a field and into a lightly wooded area beyond. Maybe there had also been an old rail line here which had been converted. Regardless of design, it’s direction was ideal – straight over the top of what turned out to be the very last hill of the day. Its other end was marked with a matching pair of barriers to prevent vehicles, and a perfectly placed set of benches under trees on the corner of the lane it joined up too. Had I not already stopped for a break it would have been an ideal spot. The views out across the Alsace countryside were tremendous. If you look at the GPS route at this point (71km into the day) you might get the impression that from here on was all downhill. And honestly, although I wasn’t aware of it as I set off along the lane, I can pretty much say that is what it felt like. The immediate, fairly steep charge down the aptly named Rue de la Foret (Forest Lane) led into the village of Arzviller and back towards the canal. An small aside at this point. Had I ventured off trail by no more than 500m I’d have seen the magnificent Saint-Louis Arzviller inclined plane (a mechanised boat lift). It’s a truly unique feat of engineering which I only now stumbled across whilst looking for the canal lock climbing wall. Sadly, I didn’t know it was there but if you ever take this route (or I do again) it’s worth the short detour.
I can’t be sad at missing out on a sight though across this section – the riding was so delightfully fast and flowing, I’d possibly not have wanted to interrupt that anyway. Just beyond the edge of the town, the road went back into dappled forest shade and alongside the canal once again. I did very definitely see the other end of the long tunnel at this point, and a basin full of boats. There had been a handful more before the tunnel, but this part was now clearly full blown touring territory. Shortly beyond was one of the most memorable sections not just of this tour, but any ride I have been on. And oddly, that Google rabbit hole which revealed the nearby inclined plane explained an aspect of it which confused me slightly at the time. I crossed over what looked like a fork in the canal, to follow a surprisingly steep and utterly lovely path descending through woodlands. I had water and trees all around me as I sped down a slope that seemed way too steep for a canal navigation. Even more surprising was that what I took to be the canal became little more than a narrow, brick line trench. Barely one boat wide, no more than half full of water, and clearly long disused. I can now see that the real canal had branched right to join up with boat lift, to carry vessels down this stretch of steep hillside. Whilst riding along though, it was just way too gorgeous to worry too much that the pieces didn’t fully connect. The downhill stretch just rolled on and on, through jaw dropping scenery. It was obvious why all the tourist boats were huddled up at this end of the canal.
I’d been cruising effortless for about 4km before the speedy descent eased and I rejoined the main canal. It was still easy, downhill riding even from here, but with a much more waterway friendly gradient. And in case I wasn’t feeling it in my effort, the direction of the next (and every remaining) set of lock gates showed that the level was dropping. The steep woodlands went the other way though – a lush green valley rising high up on each side. It was if the canal was literally cutting through a small mountain range. And, as soon as that thought popped into my head, I realised it was what I was seeing. I was winding through what must have been the final ridges of the Alsace – beyond which I’d run out into the Rhein valley. I stopped to try and capture a photo of the pure majesty of the scenery (one of the hilltops even had a castle on it). But really, nothing does it justice – it has to be seen.
The Alsace towns are stupidly pretty too. As the canal emerged from the mountains, it ran out into Saverne. The old buildings around the towpath looked impossibly quaint – almost as if Hollywood had created a perfect caricature film set of what they imagined an ancient middle European town should look like. And once again, the photo I snapped doesn’t come close to the reality. It was around lunchtime but, predictably for such a lovely place, all the waterside cafes were heaving – and without shade. So I rolled on. From here the riding became more functional than memorable. Still downhill, and still easy quick riding, through more typical valley countryside – farmlands, through towns and small villages. Definitely far from ugly, but without the “wow” factor of the piece I’d just travelled. The heat, on the other hand, was truly spectacular. I passed up a couple more potential lunch stops due to a lack of shade, and nearly rode past the one I did end up at. It was a simple looking café on a street corner, but something must have caught my attention.
Hochfelden – 12:30
It was probably the name – l’Escale des Gourmets – I mean it had “gourmet” in the name, right. So I wheeled back to see if they had a table out of the sun. Not only did they, but the staff kindly opened a side gate to let me wheel the bike into the safety of the patio. With parasols and shade a plenty, I settled into a table at the far side and eyed up a menu full of delights. Once more, against my usual habits, the fish seemed a safer bet on the digestion given the boiling conditions. This time it was a white fleshed freshwater fish that caught my eye – which I think was Perch, but I may have that wrong. Either way, in a simple sauce with a mixed selection of precisely cut vegetables it was simply stunning. I probably had dessert too – given I relaxed there for an hour enjoying the cool shade and watching people come and go. Given the quality of the food, it wasn’t surprising that it was so popular. Have I mentioned I love eating in France?
It was with some reluctance that I forced myself back out into the furnace – hands still a little sticky from sun cream as I jammed them back into my riding gloves. The best (only) way to cool down really was to pick up some pace. So that’s exactly what I did. The hour it took me to reach Strasbourg would not have broken any records or even be classed as rapid by most people’s standards, but it was still faster than I normally ride. That was aided, of course, by the continued descent to the Rhein. I’d thought I might stop for ice cream and a drink in Strasbourg, but the canal path snaked around without offering much in the way of good looking places. I did ride past the monumental buildings of the EU parliament. It’s easy to be impressed by their stature until you realise what a colossal and flagrant waste of ordinary European citizens’ money and resources they represent. I’m not someone who was pro-Brexit, but there are aspects where the EU has failed to represent the people they were supposed to be helping. It costs over €110 million a year to keep moving the parliament every month. Pretty much all of the MEPs agree it’s a huge financial waste which also has a nasty environmental footprint. But none of them do anything about it. It shows an utter lack of backbone in the politicians to do the right thing for their own people, and I felt no desire to take any photos to commemorate their failings.
Kehl (Germany) – 15:00
My original idea was to cross the Rhein on a pedestrian bridge with a cycle path. I forget now exactly why I turned back when I was so close to reaching it – perhaps there was construction, but I also have a vague feeling of riding into a park full of vagrants which maybe caused me to feel nervous about the route. So I wound back to a different cycle path bridge alongside the main road, tram and rail bridges. And just like that, I was in my 3rd country of the tour. I glanced at a couple of cafes on the other side but decided somewhere along the banks of the river in the cool of some trees would be more pleasant than the reflected heat of tarmac and concrete I was riding through. This proved a mistake. I dropped into a café on a campsite, but the staff their refused so much as to even serve me a cold drink – it was their “break” they said. The queue of caravans and potential customers outside waiting to get in would likely have all bought ice creams and drinks had they been open, but I guess they were also a captive market who would wait an hour for the same. I just pushed on joining up, with the next major highlight of the tour. The long sections of canal path were done now – for the next couple of days I’d be riding along the Rhein path, almost up to its source.
This part was really just a short taster – a quick 10km along gravel paths beside the broad expanse of slowly flowing rivers. It ducked in and out of brushy, new growth woodland – occasionally leaving the bank of the river to get around and over many small tributaries across the flat river valley. It was very different scenery to the last few days, and going against the flow of the river was also now gradually uphill and into a light headwind. Fortunately, with little riding left, the cooling effect of that more than made up for the little it did to slow my already leisurely pace.
I remember a couple of things very well from the final stretch of riding. The first was an impressively large police blockade at exactly the point my route swung away from the river for the final time. There were long queues of cars in both directions on the main road I rolled across. The direction I needed to go was onto a side road beyond which was lined with police vans, cars, motorbikes, and many armed officers. It was all a little nerve wracking but none of them even looked at me, let alone slowed my passage. I guess that maybe the proximity to the border had something to do with it – the road did cross over back into France. Perhaps it was just a random road block to check vehicles, or maybe they were following a lead on something more specific. Whatever it was must have carried some level of expected danger, given the amount of body armour and weapons on show.
Altenheim – 16:00
The other part I remember was that once across the twisty rural tracks, a large festival was being setup (or taken down) on the outskirts of Altenheim. Tents and arenas on both sides of the road I was taking into town. I guessed it was some kind of regional festival, maybe food, or music, or farming. Or, given its size, probably all of those things and more. I contemplated coming back to investigate later, but I knew deep down that once I settled into a panache and some food at the B&B there was little chance I’d be venturing out again. Which is, pretty much how things played out in fact. The owner wasn’t yet home, so I grabbed a drink at a kebab shop opposite and sat in the shade waiting. Later on, I enjoyed a superb meal he prepared in the B&B restaurant. It was a pleasant surprise to learn that it was so much more than just the pizzeria which I’d been expecting. I forget the specifics, but the host also owned the local bakery I think, and had wine and olive oil from his families place, which oddly I think he said was in Spain rather than Italy. It was a shame to pass on the wine, and I have a vague memory of a “zero radler” to add insult to injury, although maybe it did have actual real beer in it. I don’t really recall what I ate, but I do remember it being superb, and so much more than any of the web reviews had suggested. Sadly though, due to unexpected family situations, it seemed there wouldn’t be breakfast tomorrow until later than usual. I explained that was fine, and there was no need to reduce the bill. There was a supermarket nearby which opened early that I was sure would work. And the owner had arranged for his father to come and open the garage in the morning so I could get my bike. My eyes closed once more on another awesome day on the bike. Despite being very ad-hoc in its concept, this was proving to be a really wonderful tour.