Watch out for the railway crossings in Germany. In Austria you get 15 minutes warning. In Germany you get about 15 seconds. Very efficient and a far better system.
Had a cracking headache all morning. I genuinely think it's from bites. I'm covered in them, especially on my head and neck. Must be some kinda uber toxin in these bad boys. Taken pain killers but it won't shift.
Picked up the B500 into the Black Forest at Titisee, after a few short detours due to roadworks. Stopped for lunch in Titisee first. I'd picked up some bread and cheese at the first shop I'd seen after leaving the campsite. Sat under a tree and chilled for an hour. Texted Catherine to wind her up but she's ignoring all my 'wish you were here' and 'how's work?' messages.
Nearly got knocked off in Titisee. Some daydreaming woman came straight out of a junction on my left and took my path. I had a proper close one. Should of punched her wing mirror off but was far too busy struggling to keep half a ton of bike upright and avoiding a raised kerb.
We had been warned of a heatwave in the Black Forest. There certainly is. It hit 38 degrees in some places which wasn't pleasant. I don't care what people say about 'it's a different kind of heat abroad'. No it isn't. It's just as unbearable. Especially when you're wearing full leathers.
I started losing the plot north of Triberg. South of Triberg and north west of Freudenstadt are where this road is interesting. Pick up a Michelin map and it's the two sections of the B500 in yellow. The section between Freudenstadt and Baden-Baden is the jewel in the crown. That's the world famous Black Forest High Road.
The section between Triberg and Freudenstadt is not so good. It can be congested and it's well used by HGVs. I got stuck in a long queue of traffic for a while. It didn't matter how many I picked off, there was always another slow driver in front. Put yourself in the same situation in 38 degree heat and you'll understand. You start drifting off. Not in a sleepy way but you just start losing track. The only water I had was hot by now and there was nowhere to get a cold refill. I was on a clearway and the few places available to stop had no shade. I took a wrong turn where the road forked and didn't realise for a couple of miles. I pulled over and had a monumental swearing fit. It was a proper Basil Fawlty tree branch moment. It was obscene and it went on for ages. Just ask Sam or Catherine about my colourful language when I'm hot and flustered and they'll explain everything.
Now I thought I was alone but as I looked over my shoulder before turning the bike round I clocked an old boy sat eating his lunch at the other side of the road. He was sat cool as a cucumber with his lunch on his lap and his moped and helmet beside his seat. He looked completely bemused. I'd guess more scared than offended.
That kinda made me smile again but I felt a bit naughty.
Beyond Freudenstadt it all became worth it. The road is legendary. I was gonna stop at a campsite south of Baden-Baden but it was only 5.30pm and I was enjoying it too much to stop. Catherine, the campsite was right near that downhill sled ride we did last year.
Carried on and headed for a campsite at a place called Oberbruch. Stopped at a shop a few km before the site to pick up a cold drink and some cold beers. Was in the shop for a couple of minutes and when I walked out again there was torrential rain. In a few minutes it had gone from blazing sunshine to a torrential downpour. Sat it out and a few minutes later it passed.
The campsite is nice. There's a good size pleasure lake but no mosquitos. The lake has a water slide and fountains and was full of people.
You can pitch up anywhere within the allocated tent area. I chose a nice spot overlooking the lake next to a Dutch lad called Arnold and his girlfriend. They sat watching me unpack everything from the panniers while they ate their tea. They said they were expecting a tiny tent but were in complete awe at the tent and huge shelter. Even more shocked when I told them there's a second tent and full compliment of camping kit somewhere in my luggage.
Got chatting over a beer. I told them to sort out their national identity. There's no need for Holland and Netherlands and Dutch. Just choose one and have done with it. I was already aware that Holland isn't the same as the Netherlands. That definitely scored me some points with them. Foolishly I wasn't actually aware that Nederland means low land. And we call it the Netherlands because we can't pronounce the real name correctly. Also didn't know that they're approaching disaster point with salination of the land. They're well practised in controlling the flooding by building dams and flood defences. The real problem is that the salt water table is rising and when it reaches the surface no crops will grow.
Arnold lives in a town that's more than 5m below sea level. That's also concerning.
The flooding comes from Germany as the rivers, particularly the Rhine, breaks over NL and out to the sea. There's a joint effort between the two countries to resolve the problems.
Speaking of flooding, the campsite nearly did. Overnight the heavens opened. I really wasn't expecting it so built the basha for headroom rather than wet weather performance. Sounds a bit sad but believe me there's a huge difference. The tarp filled with water and eventually collapsed on my tent. Very amusing. I was out in the pouring rain wearing just my pants and a headtorch at about 2 in the morning trying to fix everything up.
The only downside to the campsite, apart from 50c for a shower, is the fact that vehicles aren't allowed by the tents. Amusingly I was told to park mine, not by the other bikes near reception, but next to the campervans. I could of been offended but found it really funny. It was perfect though because I could see it from my pitch. Even more amusing though was the Harley Davison that was parked by the sites resident tractor. I kid you not. I'll try to grab a picture before leaving just to silence any doubters.
196 miles
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