barrysherry - peaceonabike

August 8, 2014March 6, 2023

25,000 Miles Cancer-Free

BAINBRIDGE ISLAND, WASHINGTON

I had told my friend, Chey Hillsgrove, I’d be joining him at the end of his cross-country cancer ride. I had hoped to get their route and ride backward from Bremerton or Bainbridge Island until I found them.

My friends, Dale & Kimber Polley were visiting Seattle. Kimber wanted to take me to Chey (after some begging by me, I think). It worked out because while I envisioned we would encounter the riders on the road and I would start at that point, we left very early and Chey’s group planned to leave very late. We arrived in Port Townsend before many of the riders did (they had homestay visits the night before).

Shelby Perkins inking Chey (it will wash off)

I said hello to Chey and then met Shelby Perkins. Shelby was a college classmate and soccer teammate of Jamie Roberts and it was good for both of us to meet someone who knew her. Riders and friends joined hands for a dedication circle.

Words cannot explain what being part of a dedication circle means and I won’t try. Suffice it to say that my two highlights of a week of riding were meeting Alex Shepherd in Ashland, Oregon, and being in the dedication circle. Neither involved riding.

We rolled out as a group, apparently minus one. I was riding with Mike McDonald (Virginia Tech) and chatting about others. He told me Adrienne Rivera also goes to Va. Tech and I asked where she was. After looking around he said “missing.”

Chey had dropped back to go find her. Ellie Stevens, Natalie Fischer, and I waited. Natalie left cue clues for them on the paths. Once we got together the five of us rode as a group the rest of the day.

At Mile 15 I pulled over long enough to raise my bike above my head to the bewilderment of the other riders. I just celebrated “Around the World” – 24,901.6 miles ridden cancer-free (started in 2010).

The first water stop was by the sound and by some fabulous blackberry bushes. I failed to grasp at the time that the entire area is basically covered with wild blackberry bushes. I started picking and sharing blackberries wherever I could find them.

These were the best blackberries I have ever eaten. I know now the best blackberries come from the coast of Washington. The best strawberries come from Finland.

Natalie Fischer Summiting the Wall – It’s steeper than it looks

Ahead of us was a steep hill. It measured 1/2 mile from the bottom which included the lower section where the water stop was. The “wall” portion was 1/4 mile long and it kicked up to 20% in a couple of stretches.

I had preloaded a turn-by-turn cue to Garmin which Chey provided two days earlier. That helped our navigation. Once we actually went off cue to stay on course, in the process saving some miles (I think). Later we followed riders up the road even when Garmin told us to turn. Garmin was right but we were with everybody else.

(This is also why it was not a good idea to go to the end and then ride backward until we met. Chey’s group was prone to going off-course at times but then did make it across the country so they did something right!)

We rolled into the campground for the riders last night. I thought they deserved better than camping on their last night. Actually, I’ll say it – they deserved better than camping on their last night.

After a quick lunch with Chey and his friends, I decided not to bike the surface roads back to Bremerton but instead to ride to the Seattle ferry. I was first in line to get on the boat and first off – which I needed. Because then I had to figure out the system — get a ticket to the Bremerton ferry which was boarding. I was last in line and last on the boat. But I made it.

The riding was fun but the dedication circle made the day. Jamie, Jake, Alex.

Three rides all part of a great day

August 7, 2014December 16, 2016

Home Sweet Home

SWEET HOME, OREGON

This ride was simple. Find someone’s ride on RidewithGPS.com. Download it to my Garmin. Follow it. Improvise at will.

I am as Pennsylvanian as they come with all my ancestors of at least five generations having been born in Pennsylvania. With one exception. My grandmother, Ruth Ann (States) Lowmaster was born in Oregon. Sweet Home, Oregon. Her dad, John T. States, was a lumberman in Indiana Co., Pa., in the early 1900s. He and two brothers went to Oregon as did the family of Mae Bartlebaugh, who was probably then 15 (when she moved).

While in Oregon, they met, married, and in 1907 my grandmother was born. Family tragedy would bring them back to Pennsylvania by 1911 and my grandmother never returned to Oregon to see where she lived, a disappointment she carried with her.

Dam at Green Peter Lake

Today was my day. I started by a covered bridge then rode out on US 20 – the same US 20 that rolls through Erie, Pa. I followed Foster Lake then made a climb through the lush forest to Green Peter Lake. I turned around and went alongside the other side of the lake and then my map took me away from town. I could have crossed a bridge and made a loop, albeit 20 miles or so but I was looking for 40 (or so).

Green Peter Lake

The (pre-programmed) route I was on was called Berlin Wall and the author sort of chastised anyone that wanted to try. I was on Berlin Road and this was a good name for it. I started climbing and reasoned it couldn’t be too hard. It kept climbing. And kept getting steeper. I was working hard to get myself over the top. Well done guys!

Liberty Rock Products

Once over the top it was down in the valley to a loop turnaround. I was passed by a number of logging trucks and two Weyerhaeuser plants. No mistaking, this is a lumber town.

The Rio - Theater in Sweet Home — The Rio – Theater in Sweet Home

Back in town I continued through town looking for a cemetery and looking for miles since I was close to 50. The cemetery is Gilliland, which I found (with help from a rural letter carrier). My great-great-grandmother, Emma Ruth (Ross) Painter, mother of Mae (Bartlebaugh) States, is buried here. I found her grave and was completely satisfied with a day of riding around my grandmother’s birthplace and a little tombstone hopping.

Emma Ruth Painter

August 7, 2014July 23, 2015

Crater Lake and Alex

ASHLAND, OREGON

I have dreamed for years of visiting Crater Lake but it’s pretty isolated for this East Coaster. But when I started planning this trip I knew I could visit the lake. And not visit but to ride around it.

Both Crater Lake and Alex Shepherd are in the southern part of Oregon. Alex is a 12 year-old battling brain cancer. He’s an avid cyclist as well and last year I made a promise to him or to myself that I would ride with him.

I drove to Crater Lake and, following one rider’s suggestion, parked at Rim Lodge and rode clockwise. I would not recommend this.

It was a beautiful morning if not a bit chilly. The temperature was in the low 50s. I wore arm warmers and a vest. Headed out I headed up. None of the climbing was hard – just long. On my first climb I came to stopped traffic and went up the road past them to the front. There I had 15 minutes of quality conversation with a flagman. In the park they were working to remove loose rock along the side of the road before nature does.

There are more than 30 pull-offs. At one I saw two women both taking a picture of each other. I stopped and asked if they both wanted to be in one. They were so glad I stopped. Then they asked how far I would ride and I replied “around the lake.” They asked me if I could do that in a day. I told them I better do it in three hours.

Phantom Ship Rock

At one lookout I met Mike from Tucson who was riding a trail bike. At the Phantom Ship I met an older lady, probably 70, who was riding counter-clockwise. She told me counter-clockwise was easier because there’s less climbing. I’m still scratching my head on that one. To me there’s the same elevation gain and loss no matter which direction one rides. She may be referring to one direction has more linear climbing because the grades are less but longer while the other direction has steeper grades. And that would depend on your climbing preference.

As far as parking at Rim Lodge, I might recommend that for a counter-clockwise ride. But on a clockwise route with three miles to finish, I passed the visitors’ center (a good place to start). Then I began a three mile climb to Rim Lodge, to the finish. After three hours in the saddle I would have preferred not to finish with a climb. Like direction, you’re going to get the same amount wherever you start but I would much prefer starting with the climb while my legs are fresh.

Overlook at Rim Lodge

After the ride at Crater Lake I drove to Ashland to meet Alex. At first, Alex and his mother, Aushna, were out trying to get his medications and Aushna encouraged me to meet her husband, Dan, and daughter, Lily. Dan is also an avid cyclist and I thoroughly enjoyed talking about cycling (and life) with him. We also discussed Alex’s situation and their efforts to get him into a trial.

Falling Hurts

It was late in the day, I had been there for a couple of hours and still no Alex. I was on East Coast time and was getting tired. I also had a four hour drive ahead of me. I thought about leaving a note for Alex and Aushna but decided one doesn’t do that. I would stay until midnight to meet Alex.

Alex and Aushna did come home and I was able to meet them. Alex isn’t riding his bike right now, a couple of brain surgeries in the past few weeks will do that to you. But what a neat kid. He showed me some of the motorized Legos that he has built. I told him to let me know when he’s back on his bike – I still want to come out and ride with him.

Aushna Shepherd, Barry Sherry

This is an incredibly beautiful family. My prayers are with this family daily and I ask that you join me.

August 5, 2014July 9, 2017

Oregon

CORVALLIS, OREGON

I rode with a group of college students riding to Portland on their second and third days in Pennsylvania. This trip had been planned for quite a while and I hoped to see them again in Oregon. Once Jamie Roberts was killed I knew that I must see them, not for their sake but for mine.

Bridge over Willamette River, Corvallis, Ore.

Aaron Hoxworth sent me their turn-by-turn directions and I told him I would ride the route backward from Corvallis to Eugene to find them. I started my day by riding to a rental car facility in Portland, taking it back then barely squeezing the bike box in the car. But it fit.

I drove to Corvallis and arrived later than I wanted to but it was the best I could do. Wheels down at 10:00 a.m. I followed my preloaded map and directions. I had ridden about 11 miles when, out on a country road next to the Willamette River, I saw four riders coming to me in the distance. As I passed they called out my name. I did a U-turn and congratulated each rider.

We rode together for a little more than two miles then I turned around and and went back to find the second group. There too I was met with warm greetings as I turned and rode with them. And I did the same for groups 3, 4, and 5.Once I hooked onto the last group, one with Ki Young Kim in it, I was enjoying good conversation when I saw the second group off to the side of the road. I told Ki Young I would drop off and ride back with them.

First Caitlin Epps was sitting on the ground, bike upside down, spinning the wheel and trying to true the wheel. Then Ashley Arnold took over. I was really impressed. On Day 2 they struggled with changing flats and here they were truing a wheel.

Once back on the road I took them the way I came which was over a wonderfully old rickety wooden bridge in Corvallis. Unfortunately that meant we missed coming off the newer bridge and seeing the mark to the lunch stop. It was only one more mile to the Boys and Girls Club – their hosts for the night, but it was noon. And we were the only ones there.

A quick phone call and we discovered where lunch was. Another mile back – bonus miles – and I got to meet the rest of the team. It was good to see them happy and I spent some private time with Caitlin. I said goodbye to Aaron, and not many more, because after an impromptu game of barefoot soccer, most of the riders scattered into town.

I was so happy to see them. They have come a long way – much further than 4,000 miles on a bike.

Willamette River

Caitlin Epps

Bridge over Willamette River, Corvallis, Oregon

What’s Missing Here Joanna Wang?
Your Helmet
(With Chris Blazer)

August 5, 2014July 23, 2015

Portland

PORTLAND, OREGON

Portland, along with
Minneapolis and Boulder, is one of those “bike Mecca” places.
I’m not sure anyone is a fan of riding in urban areas but if you have to
ride in a major city, try it out in one of these cities. Your turn: Portland.

Alaska Airlines operated by Horizon

My biggest fear was
getting here, knowing I’d be flying with my bike and on a small plane
from Seattle to Portland. As I boarded, from the rear, I asked the guy
in the cargo hold if my bike was in there. He said it was. Sweet.

Suitcase and Bike Case

I figured out the light rail system and for $2.50 took a train to downtown Portland then put my bike on the suitcase and rolled them both up the street to the hotel. It was about a six block walk and beat paying $40 for a cab.

Once to the hotel and I got the bike assembled, I went for ride. Completely by “feel.” There’s a river (Willamette) so I reasoned it would be hard to get lost.

I stopped at Metropolis Cycle Repair on Williams Street for a CO2 cartridge (can’t fly with them) as well as some lube. And some free air. The guy in the shop was very friendly and directed me up towards the St. Johns Bridge.

St. Johns Bridge

It was a nice ride up and back. I was gone long enough to form some impressions.

First, there are lots of bike lanes. But like a lot of cities, the bike lanes are dangerously close to parked cars or include the gutter.

Second, glass. It’s America. There is broken glass on the sides of the road, which is where the bike lanes usually are. Proceed with caution.

Third, signage. Sometimes good. Sometimes spotty. I followed the signs to the St. Johns Bridge until I lost the scent. Same with Downtown Portland to get back.

Fourth, track stands. At every intersection multiple cyclists can be stopped waiting for the light. The really cool cyclists do track stands, that is, balance on their bikes without ever putting a foot on the ground. I’m not that cool.

I’m not a fan of urban riding but it’s a great city to ride in.

August 2, 2014August 2, 2021

Punxsutawney Phil

PUNXSUTAWNEY, PENNSYLVANIA

I’ve done this ride before although never quite like this. It was “wheels down” at 6:30 a.m. on a cool morning with a cloud cover. I left Friedens and rode up Pa. Rte 281 to Stoystown and not a single car passed me. I stopped briefly to take a picture when I found one of the decorative 1930s gas pumps that celebrate the Old Lincoln Highway.

In Stoystown I got on Plank Road for what should have been an enjoyable descent down to and past the Quemahoning Reservoir. And then I remembered a couple of weeks earlier laughing at Frenchman Arnaud Demare stopping during the Tour de France and running into someone’s camper to use their bathroom. Karma would get her revenge today although there were no campers alongside these forested roads. The good thing is that no cars passed me on this stretch of road either. (**)it happens.

Riding my new Trek Domane, I was wondering if my average speed would be higher today than it was four years ago when I was chased by Rottweilers. But I rode at a relaxed pace, often stopping to take pictures. Or other things.

**Arnaud Demare** takes a comfort break during the Tour de France (2014)
Source: BleacherReport.com

In Northern Cambria at Mile 55, I stopped at the home of Don & Nancy Lowmaster for a needed water break. The sun had come out, it was warming up, and I had depleted my water. Nancy refilled my bottles with ice and water.

Fox Pizza, Davidsville, Pa. – My “One Hour” Photo

Although another 20 miles remained to my destination of a reunion site, these were the hardest miles for me. While the climb out of Johnstown seems somewhat steep, the road is good and the grade is constant. Once on these back country roads the climbs become stepper, the surface a little rougher, but for me, the hardest part is the grades are not consistent. It is hard to find a pedaling rhythm.

Coney Island, Johnstown, Pa. Hot dogs aren’t just for lunch anymore.

On Arcadia Road, I remembered a loose dog last year, so I sped up and went into stealth mode. I thought I was by safely. Then to my right heel was a pit bull chasing. Oh boy. But I was already 200 yards past his house and I think he was more chase than catch. At least today he was.

East Conemaugh, Pa., looking towards Johnstown

Just before Smithport someone went by and called out “Hi Barry.” I have no idea who it was.

After the reunion, I decided to ride on to Gobbler’s Knob and into Punxsutawney. I had never been to Gobbler’s Knob. It was another 6-7 miles with much of it on those nasty little climbs that are steep with no consistency. It was August 2 – six months after or six months before Groundhog Day. Was I early or was I late? It didn’t matter. It was a sweet ride down to Punxsutawney to end the day.

I had my dad leave the reunion and drive my car to the County Market in Punxsutawney to pick me up.

A check of the data shows I was not faster than four years ago although it was my second fastest time – even while not feeling so hot.

July 21, 2014July 29, 2015

Chautauqua Lake

CHAUTAUQUA LAKE, NEW YORK

Even as I drove with my with daughter, Ashley, to Lily Dale, New York, I wasn’t sure where I would ride. Part of me wanted to ride around Chautauqua Lake. Part of me wanted to ride back to Erie, Pa. All I knew was she was visiting Lily Dale and I was going for a bike ride.

I designed and uploaded a route to my GPS that would take me down the east side of the lake, cross at Bemus Point, then head straight to Erie. The distance was around 100 km (62 miles).

Lily Dale sits on the three small Cassadaga Lakes. It was a very pleasant morning, around 70 degrees and sunny. There was a bit of a hill getting out of there – one mile at 10-11% – but once up and over it I rolled on towards Chautauqua Lake.

Stockton, New York

Reaching the main highway at the lake I went down the east side, disappointed that there weren’t better views of the water. I expected a road where I could see the lake the entire time and much of it was too far away behind forests to see the lake.

Bemus Point, New York

I reached Bemus Point, a beautiful small village with a ferry that crosses the lake. I rolled up on my bike. I was the only one there but could see the ferry at the other side of the lake. I waited. I thought I could see it was getting closer. It wasn’t.

Operates Friday, Saturday, Sunday

A couple docked their boat and came ashore. I asked if the ferry was getting closer and he said it only runs Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. Say what? Secretly hopeful he would offer to take my bike and me across I said it looks like I have to ride around the lake. He agreed stating “you look like you can do it.”

Operating since 1811 – just not on Mondays

I headed off south not knowing where I was going – navigating by feel staying close to the lake. My best option wasn’t an option. Just south of Bemus Point is a bridge across the lake on I-86. A road sign stated “Erie 35.” My mileage was right. I had ridden 24 miles, and if I could cross there I would be to Erie around mile 60. But I had much farther to ride because I could not cross the middle of the lake.

At Jamestown I made the turn and discovered a statue to Jamestown’s native daughter of comedy, Lucille Ball. That made the trip worthwhile.

When I came to Busti, I stopped at a gas station. I saw a man and asked him if he was local. He said he was. I asked how far it was to the Chautauqua Institute and he told me 20 miles. The road sign for Mayville said 14 miles.

Appropriate name for a church in western NY
Panama, New York

I asked if Chautauqua was before Mayville and he said it was. I then said the sign says Mayville 14. He paused and said, “I still say it’s 20 miles.” Sigh.

Another man asked “do you want to ride to Erie?” and was surprised when I told him I did. He told me to take the road I was looking at, Rte 474, and head west. Said it goes right to Erie. Unfortunately, I believed him.

The road was lumpier than I thought

My designed route was north – I was to pick it up at Chautauqua Institute, but this seemed better. I headed west to Panama and then to Clymer. Just outside of Clymer I saw a road sign “Erie 30.” I had ridden 40 miles since I saw the one for Erie at 35 miles. Forty miles and I was five miles closer!

Ashley was on her way back from Lily Dale and asked where I was. “Not a whole lot closer” I told her. The main road from Wattsburg to Erie is Pa. Rte 8 – a busy two-lane road with no shoulders. I didn’t want any part of that. I told her to meet me in Wattsburg. I continued on and we met at the Wattsburg-Erie County Fairgrounds.

NY-PA border between Clymer, NY and Wattsburg PA

I went farther than if I had just designed a route to get me to Erie. I wanted to see the lake which I did. Throw in some westerly head winds and some hills that I wasn’t expecting, it was a harder ride than I expected. I only wish the ferry had been running but then I wouldn’t have found the Lucy statue, which was pretty neat.

July 7, 2014September 10, 2020

Three Country Ride

SISSACH, SWITZERLAND

I had never been to Germany and a few months ago I told Ben Z. that we should ride (or that he should design) a ride that takes us from Switzerland to Germany. And he designed a good one.

I took the train from Zürich to Sissach, met Ben, and went over to Stonebite bike shop, right down the street from the train station. Met a very nice guy working there. I grabbed a Trek Madone with Di2 (electronic) shifting and he fit me to the bike. One problem though. When I tried to shift I discovered the battery was missing and he couldn’t find it. But a couple of phone calls and 45 minutes later we were off and riding – the train.

(Actually there was a second problem. The bike was too large for me and a seat I could not lower. I would be uncomfortable for a day. Oh well.)

Ben, giving a Turkish Couple directions

We took the train to Basel to begin our tour. Winding our way via bike paths, we found our way across and then beside the Rhine River. It was navigating by feel. Within six kilometers we were crossing into Germany.

And almost immediately once we were in Germany, we were leaving Germany. We crossed the Three Countries Bridge into France. I was in Germany for 600 meters. But it counts.

Three Countries Bridge

Once in France we were on pancake flat roads, parallel to the Rhine River and the Grand Canal of Alsace but never quite seeing it. The road was a chip and tar road and a bit difficult to pedal. After 12 kilometers we turned towards the river and followed a road back to a hydro-electric power plant on the river at Krembs.

Hyrdoelectric Plant at Krembs on the Rhine River

No cars but we could cross the damn on bikes. We stopped to watch a ship come through the lock.

Ship coming through the lock at Krembs

Once we crossed the dam we followed the canal south until crossing into Germany. We jumped on a bike bath which was paved but turned to dirt and gravel. Germany has many bike paths next to roads, most are paved but this one wasn’t. We rode it for a few kilometers before finding another path/road which was paved.

Bike path in Germany ran out of pavement

Ben had printed out directions but we seemed to be off cue as much as on and it sure was fun. We followed open roads to wherever they led – which was not to lunch.

Closed on Mondays

Hungry, my breakfast was a Snickers bar in the train station, we found a restaurant/tavern which was closed on Mondays. Then another. And another. Finally we found a place in Kandern in the Black Forest which may have been Pizzeria Sanlorenzo, but I can’t say for sure. After a cyclists’ lunch of pizza, we headed out and up – up a beautiful road through the Black Forest.

Black Forest

Occasionally at a town or intersection Ben would check GPS but just as often we would say – “let’s go that way” as long as it was headed south or west – back towards his home in Sissach.

Ben and a Bike Path in Germany

We were on country roads, for the most part not heavily traveled, but just as often we jumped on the paved bike paths which followed the roads.

Reaching Rheinfelden, Germany, Ben mostly knew the way except that a landmark old building was missing. A quick question to a tourist and we were headed across the bridge crossing the Rhine back into Switzerland, to Rheinfelden, Switzerland. Two questions really. Which way to Switzerland and is that water (in the fountain) potable? (It wasn’t)

Rheinfelden, Switzerland

Ben said from Rheinfelden it would be 15 km more – all uphill. Before leaving, we found a water fountain with potable water and filled our bottles.

Ben, filling his water bottle

Once we left Rheinfelden we were on a somewhat traveled road until going through Magden. And there the climb began. In earnest.

Bridge over River Rhine at Rheinfelden Germany and Switzerland

In the morning we had been riding on dead flat roads along the Rhine in Basel and in France. But in Germany we picked up some hills in the Black Forest and now we had a small mountain to get over. My Garmin was showing it was mostly 11-12%. This was a mini Mt. Washington – 12% but for only two kilometers and not 12 kilometers.

Ben at the summit before Sissach

And it was raining. Cloudy in the morning and sunny in Germany, the rain was coming down in Switzerland. But it felt good on the climb. Once over the top we had 3k back to town. I was able to drop the bike, change, and catch my train, all in a matter of a few minutes.

Meanwhile, back at the bike shop

Three countries on a bike. What a great ride!

Barry and Ben

A big SHOUT OUT to Ben and [Friend}, my hosts on this day. They were both exchange students in the 90s who I have kept in close contact with. And on this day they were both texting each other as to my whereabouts. I was staying with [Friend] and she seemed very worried I would miss my train connections to Ben. And when I left Ben texted her with my EPA. Love you both!

July 5, 2014August 11, 2015

Bridge Jumper

BERN, SWITZERLAND

I came to Bern not to ride but to swim. But I got in a ride. (And a blog entry!)

Bern is a neat city. As a genealogist, I trace most of my family history to Germany and England but I trace my Wenger line to Bern. My great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandfather, John or Hans Wenger, was born here in 1705. Welcome home.

I count among my blessings in life the years I worked with YFU. Those amazing foreign exchange students in the 1990s are now amazing young adults in their 30s. Céline Oreiller met me in Bern and knew my bucket list item – jump off the bridge into the freezing River Aare.

Looking back to the city from the bear pits

We walked the downtown area over to the bear pits. We followed a steep hill up to the gardens and across a high bridge back into town.

WARNING: Octopi in the River Aare

After lunch we made our way to the Cathedral of Bern, a place Céline had never been. Although I had a Swiss Rail Pass which was good for local transportation, it was in my stored bags at the train station. I cursed my decision not to have it. With it, we could have taken the funicular to the top of Bern. And we could have avoided the river.

The Kindlifresserbrunnen

A literal translation of the name Kindlifresserbrunnen
would be “Fountain of the Eater of Little Children”

Céline seemed to think I really wanted to jump off a bridge, probably because I told her that. Many times. I was content to climb the high towers of the Cathedral. Or just ride local transportation if I had my rail pass handy. She made it her mission to get me into the river.

Cathedral of Bern
Too Large to be captured by my camera

Around 5:00 p.m. the sun finally came out. We looked way down at the river below and found a “city bikes” location which offered “free” rentals, an oxymoron, indeed. For the first time today I was in my element. On a bike.

Céline, Barry

We rode across a high bridge then found some streets to quickly take us down to the river. At first we didn’t see anyone swimming but as we approached the Schönausteg Bridge, I thought must be the jumping bridge. Someone in a bathing suit walked by. We followed him across the bridge and watched him slip into the water and swiftly was taken away (safely).

Schönausteg Bridge

We didn’t see anyone jumping but the bridge looked like one I remembered in the BBC segment on swimming in Bern. Thankfully it wasn’t the bridge over to the bear pits which I thought I remembered.

I wasn’t sure if it was legal. There were no signs prohibiting it. So I went out on the bridge, climbed over the railing, being watched by others, not knowing what they thought. I was in the middle of the river and was standing on the suspension rails of the bridge. I thought I stood there for an eternity although it was really only a few seconds.

Jumping into the river I was carried away by the swift and cold current of the River Aare. At first it seemed cool being caught up in the current. But I remembered the most important thing is to get out of the river – there is a dam downstream.

Céline on a City Bike
I rode the same cruiser model

I swam towards the shore and saw the first take out point about 100 meters downstream – stairs built down to the river with a railing in the water. I tried to grab the railing and missed. I was being carried downstream. Just briefly, I stopped. I found a rock that I could prop my feet against.

The Dam Awaits

I was only one meter (three feet) away from the railing but the current was too strong to go against the current. And I could not climb out onto the river bank. I let go and went to the next one. I almost missed this, actually thought I had, but I grabbed the railing at the last possible second. Mission complete. So I went back and jumped again.

After I changed, we had to find our way back to the bike rental place. We climbed up a hill and found ourselves next to the American Embassy. I stopped for a photo op although was warned not to photograph the Embassy itself. I didn’t but the Swiss guard was cool. He turned his back. I could have.

U.S. Embassy

We dropped the bikes off after our ride and headed back to the train station to pick up my stored luggage and for me to catch the 6:36 p.m. train to Zurich. Bucket list item achieved.

July 4, 2014August 7, 2021

I Love France (and You Too Switzerland)

GENEVA, SWITZERLAND

Once upon a time, I thought I’d use this day to circumvent Lake Geneva, a distance of about 110 miles. However, I realized the bike rental location I was going to use wanted a two-day rental at 40 CHF per day. Plus the weather forecast called for a 90% chance of thunderstorms. The ride was off.

Well, the big ride was off. Staying one block from the train station, I found a bike rental location called Geneva Roule which was on the other side of the train station. For 25 CHF I rented a BMC road bike for the day. I thought that was a good deal. Actually, it was a great deal.

I did not know where I was going. I was negotiating 100% by “feel” and just a little knowledge. This can be dangerous. Or fun. I knew the train station was north and west of the Rhône river so I looked at the sun and headed south. And east.

There are many bike lanes in Geneva. Some are marked along with bus and taxi lanes and many run the same direction as the trolley tracks. Be very careful my friends.

I crossed a bridge and then started my ride following Lake Geneva. I reasoned if I stayed close to the lake I could not get lost. My original ride plan which would take me around the lake was simply using the roads that were hugging the lake.

I was on city streets and saw there was a bike path next to the lake so I jumped on it. At Vesanaz the road peeled away from the lake. I went through a construction area and dropped most of the traffic as I continued on the back road.

Geneva – Bike Lane painted leaving traffic with 1 1/2 lanes instead of two lanes

On the road out of Geneva the bike lane is a bit higher than the regular lane and a bit lower than the walking lane. Each separated by an angled “curb.” Or sometimes the pedestrian lane was simply divided by paint.

Geneva – Bike and Pedestrian lanes using angled curbs

And then it happened. I was going through Hermance, Switzerland and was going up the road, a slight climb, with some gravel on the road and a park with a soccer field to the left. Maybe it was Chens le Pont or Sous le Cret. Or maybe even Lagraie. Those are small towns within two kilometers (one mile) of one another.

I think the Province/Region sign is behind this construction sign
Welcome to France

It just seemed French and no longer Swiss. And I noticed a road sign, D 20.

I AM IN FRANCE!

I think I was expecting a welcome sign. A Bienvenue sign. I doubted there would be passport control. But I was riding and had this moment — I am riding in France. And it was great. I was smiling.

I liked Italy. I like Switzerland. But there is just something about France. I love riding here. From my first time with Trek Travel in 2010 and then again three years ago when I did a solo trip. I love it here.

Commune de Nernier, France
(Is this private property?)

I had angst yesterday traveling from Tirano, Italy to Geneva. It was a long, but beautiful, day on multiple (four) trains. I worried about being stuck in a smoking room in Geneva (I wasn’t). When I arrived I didn’t know where the hotel was. But getting on the bike and riding in France, that just made everything better.

In Chens-Sur-Leman I passed a bakery and cursed myself for not bringing those couple of 2€ coins I still had left. They were in my pants I left in the bike shop and would be so better used stopping and enjoying a chocolate croissant.

As I was riding on a beautiful country road I saw an old church and diverted to it. There I discovered a community called Commune de Nernier. What a neat old village right on Lake Geneva. It was gated and I don’t know if I was allowed to bike in it but I did.

I was just so happy riding for part of a day in France. If I had any doubts about how much I love riding in France the smile on my face said it all today.

I returned to Geneva and used some time to explore parts of the town. It is a great city and I don’t want to diminish how much I like it here too by raving about riding in France.

Looking back, I had a week of climbing some classic cols. That brings a satisfaction, especially Stelvio, unlike anything else. But riding in France today — pure joy!