Tough cycling to Eisenach and my tentcamp was a tough choice

September 17
A tough bike ride to Eisenach

I wake up quite early, as usual, and linger in bed for a while. I decide to get up even though it’s only 6:00 a.m.; the sounds of the workmen moving about in the kitchen make it hard to stay put. Still, I suppose they have to move around—they have a job to do, after all.

I step into the shower and turn on the hot water; it feels wonderful and shakes off my morning grogginess. Then I prepare breakfast in the empty kitchen: muesli, yogurt, eggs, cheese sandwiches, and finally, coffee.

Just before 8:30 a.m., I’m on my bike, pedaling leisurely out of Erfurt. Seven kilometers later, I’ve left the city behind. I then enjoy a pleasant ride along a dedicated bike path—no pedestrians, dog walkers, or parents with strollers, just bicycles.

The ride to Gotha is rather dull—31 kilometers with not much to see. Six kilometers before Gotha, a completely flat, straight stretch lies ahead.

Shortly after 10:30 a.m., I cycle into Gotha; the weather is sunny, but it feels like autumn. I stop at the first outdoor café I come across—an “Asia Bistro”—and order a coffee while taking sandwiches out of my cooler bag.
There isn’t much to report about the day; the villages are mostly deserted and lack colorful houses to admire—they seem to lack soul.

I make several stops to rest and refill my water bottle. There are quite a few long, grueling, gradual climbs to tackle. Anyone claiming Germany is flat hasn’t cycled across the country—even though it is beautiful in many places.

I arrive in Eisenach around 2 p.m.; at first, I take a wrong turn and end up below the town center itself.

I turn around and find my way into the middle of town. I frantically search for an outdoor café with a power outlet and finally find one.

I order a beer, followed by a cup of coffee. Then I sit and figure out the route to the campsite I’ve set my sights on. According to the map, it’s not a particularly long distance—just two or three kilometers. The first hundred meters are nothing special, but then…

First comes cobblestone and a steep climb through an area that, judging by the villas, seems exclusive.

The cobblestones end, but the hill continues; it just gets steeper and steeper. The GPS shows a gradient of 51 percent.
At first, I walk the bike for 25 meters before resting, but during the last hundred meters, I have to stop every ten meters.

Finally, I reach the top, only to realize that the campsite I had pictured doesn’t actually exist; it was just a tip suggesting that camping was permitted up here.

Naturally, I want to reach the very summit, but for the last hundred meters, I have to leave the bike behind and walk up on foot.

I make my way back down and walk the bike part of the way until I find a reasonably level spot to pitch my tent. The spot I’ve chosen is situated above some houses, but I’m fairly well sheltered by the beech forest.

I find a few concrete pillars, about half a meter high, that serve perfectly as a seat and a base for my camping stove. I eat dinner with a hearty appetite; the air around me is mild.

I fall asleep quite quickly, even though the podcast *USA-podden* is playing in my ears.