Day 14, Děčin, Czech Republic - Dodging Rain into the Czech Republic 

Tony's View

Once again, we woke up to an ever-changing weather forecast. Last night, the rain was supposed to hold off until around 4:00 p.m. I checked the Weather.com radar at 6:00 a.m., and everything looked clear. Then Joan got up at 7:30 a.m. and, boom, the forecast changed. Suddenly, we were getting rain until 11:00 a.m. So, it was time to sit around, wait, and put my legendary patience to good use.

Yesterday, I made arrangements for an early check-in at noon. With no rain in the morning forecast and only 40 miles to ride, I figured we could get an early start and enjoy an early arrival. Instead, I sent a WhatsApp message to our host saying that we planned to stay dry and probably wouldn't arrive until around 2:00 p.m.

He replied that was perfectly fine. He also added that the weather near the Elbe River is sometimes very unpredictable, so the rain might not come at all. Local people know their weather. The rest of us just refresh the forecast every 15 minutes and hope for the best. ☔🚴‍♂️😆

We finally decided to head out at 10:30 a.m. and started putting our bicycle back together outside our lodging. Speaking of my legendary patience, I decided to put the fairing back on by myself instead of waiting for Joan to help. As it turns out, trying to do three hands' worth of work with only two hands is not an effective strategy. The fairing slipped out of my hands and hit the ground.

If you remember our crash, you'll also remember the hero mechanic who managed to bend some of the cast aluminum parts back into shape just far enough to work without snapping them. Well, it turns out he had used up the last remaining bit of luck in that metal. When I dropped it, it snapped completely.

So, it was back to the high-tech engineering solution: zip ties, tape, and even some Velcro that I had thoughtfully packed from my Brew Room "just in case." Sometimes experience isn't knowing how to fix things. Sometimes it's knowing exactly which emergency supplies to bring when things inevitably break again. 🚴‍♂️😂🔧

I was able to get it back together fairly well, and amazingly, it stayed together all day today. Joan now has the added challenge of climbing in and out without touching the fairing. Fortunately, we're a little over halfway through the trip, so the fairing only has to survive a 7 more ride days. At this point, part of this fairing is probably destined for the trash, either before the trip ends or at the last AIrbnb before we board the plane home.

So after my engineering masterpiece of zip ties, tape, and Brew Room Velcro was completed, we finally got underway a little after 11:00 a.m. The good news was that we were rolling again. The bad news was that every bump, vibration, and strange noise had us wondering if my latest repair was holding together or preparing for its next dramatic failure.

The fairing, Joan and I have now reached an understanding: it pretends to stay attached, and we pretend not to notice that it's mostly being held together by hope and zip ties. 🚴‍♂️😂🔧

Along the route, wecame across a cool road sign that read: "Frog Crossing Ahead."  The first thing that ran through my mind was our friend Jerry Newell, better known as Frog. They definitely need one of these signs posted at their lake house. I'm pretty sure the sign was intended for amphibians, but let's be honest, it looked like a personalized warning for Jerry. Jane, I'm going to need you to get on this. 😂🐸

If possible, see if you can find one that says "Caution: Frog Crossing. May be carrying a cold beverage." That would be even more accurate. 😂🐸🍺

We encountered our first big climb of the trip today, and thankfully, someone had the foresight to place a bench near the top of the hill. Whether it was intended as a scenic overlook or an emergency recovery station for weary cyclists, we were grateful. After we caught our breath, Joan asked if I had intentionally chosen this route as a training ride for the big climbs waiting for us tomorrow and over the next few days. I assured her that it was completely unintentional. At least, that's my story.

Of course, after surviving the climb, sitting on the bench, and admiring the view, it did seem like pretty good preparation for what's ahead. Unfortunately, I suspect tomorrow's hills won't be nearly as considerate when it comes to providing conveniently placed seating near the top 😂. For now, we'll call today's climb a "warm-up." Tomorrow may provide evidence to the contrary. 😅

As you can see from the pictures above, we came across yet another one of those super-tight gate crossings that were clearly designed for single bikes, not tandems. Joan got off and went exploring for alternatives. When she came back, she announced that our best option appeared to be going over a large rock beside the gate. What could possibly go wrong?

The picture in the upper right shows exactly how far we got. We managed to get the front wheel up on the rock, but there was no way I could lift the rear wheel high enough to get the tandem the rest of the way over. We decided to remove the rear bags and try again. Unfortunately, even without the bags, the bike was still plenty heavy. That's when our new friend Jay stepped in and offered to help lift. With our superhero Jay providing the extra muscle, we finally got the bike over the obstacle and were ready to roll again.

We had actually first met Jay when we were sitting on that bench near the top of the hill. Joan asked her, "Are you out of school already today?" Jay smiled and replied, "I'm 27 years old." 😂We chatted with her for a while before continuing on our way. Then, when she later saw us struggling with our tandem-versus-rock challenge, she came over and volunteered to help.

Encounters like that are one of the best parts of traveling. One minute you're resting on a bench talking to a stranger, and the next minute that stranger has become the hero who saves your day and helps get your heavy tandem back on the trail. 💪😄

We eventually cam across signs along the bike path letting us know that we had officially made it to the Czech Republic. Naturally, we celebrated by sitting on the benches next to the signs and eating more plums. At this point, I think plums have become an official part of our ride nutrition plan.

While we were sitting there, Joan asked me to check the radar and see if we had enough time to stop at a biergarten before heading to the Airbnb. We were feeling pretty good because we had managed to stay dry all day up to that point. In fact, we had already passed up eight biergartens in our ongoing effort to avoid getting caught in the rain. But who's counting? 😂

I pulled up the radar, and it appeared that we had about 45 minutes before the rain arrived. Faced with the difficult decision between beer and staying dry, we did what any sensible cyclists would do, that doesn't want to clean the bike. We immediately went into race mode and booked it toward the Airbnb. As much as we wanted to stop, the thought of unloading gear, hanging up wet clothes, and listening to me complain about riding in the rain was apparently enough motivation to keep pedaling.

So we blew right past biergarten number nine and made a run for the finish, hoping to beat the weather one more time. 🍺🚴‍♂️🌧️😂 It's amazing how quickly a relaxing bike tour can turn into a time trial when a rain cloud appears on the radar.

This is what the barriers look like that you have to navigate around in the Czech Republic. I like these a whole lot better than the ones we dealt with in Germany. The Czech version seems to have been designed by someone who had actually seen a bicycle before. The German versions often felt like they were specifically engineered to test the patience of tandem riders. With these, you can actually get through without removing luggage, lifting the bike, performing advanced geometry calculations, or recruiting random strangers to help.

So far, the Czech Republic is winning the bicycle-barrier competition by a landslide. Sorry, Germany, but after wrestling our tandem through what felt like a series of bicycle obstacle courses, I'm giving this round to the Czechs. 😂🚴‍♂️. Joan is still defending the Germans as you can imagine.

Back at the Airbnb, I made an important cultural excursion to a local beer and wine shop and picked up a few Czech beers. The Czechs are famous for their beer, and so far, I can confirm they seem to know what they're doing. Every one I've tried has been pretty good.

One thing that caught my eye was the bottle cap on one of the beers. Take a look at it. Doesn't it look like a Pepsi cap?  Fortunately, after opening the bottle, I can report that it tastes much better than Pepsi. 🍺😂 Kinda like the previous Pepsi I had and Doug Borchers noted that when in Germany to get that same Pepsi.😂

After pouring myself a glass from the bottle with the Pepsi-looking cap, I noticed something pretty clever. The cap had a built-in attachment that kept it connected to the bottle after opening. Instead of falling on the floor, rolling under a table, or disappearing into another dimension, it just stayed attached. I thought that was a pretty cool design and had to share it.

As someone who occasionally drops things, breaks things, and then repairs them with zip ties, tape, and Brew Room Velcro, I can definitely appreciate simple engineering solutions that actually work. 😂

So far, Czech beer is scoring points on both taste and packaging. The cap may look like it belongs on a Pepsi bottle, but the contents are much more to my liking. 🍺 Between the quality beer and the clever cap design, the Czechs seem to have put some serious thought into the drinking experience.

We are surrounded by mountains now, and before long they're going to start demanding that we climb them. Three of the next four riding days feature some serious elevation gain. We have never attempted this much climbing before. Those days are about 65 miles with roughly 5,000 feet of climbing, which sounds much more impressive when you're reading it than when you're pedaling it.

I'm already working on backup plans, including the possibility of a quick battery charge somewhere around the halfway point. My goal is to make sure the bike has enough power left to help us reach the top of the mountains that seem determined to stand in our way.

These are the three days I was complaining about back at Choice One before we left. As everyone knows, complaining is one of my specialties. In fact, I like to think of it as a valuable planning tool. If I complain enough beforehand, then when the challenge finally arrives, I can honestly say, "See, I told you this was going to be hard." The mountains have finally arrived, and unfortunately, they don't appear to care about my opinions on the matter. 🚴‍♂️⛰️😂

Over the next few days, we'll find out whether determination, battery power, and strategic complaining are enough to get a tandem and two slightly nervous riders over the hills of northern Czechia. Tomorrow I have two routes to consider, one going 62 miles and 3000 feet of climb and one going 72 miles and 2000 feet of climb. Which one would you choose? we are still undecided. Stay tuned. 😅🚵‍♂️🔋

Joan's Extras

The ride was mostly along the Elbe today which was sort of like riding along the Rhine except it was a much faster pace today. There were some drops of rain on us in places, but mostly it was a bug shower. There were lots of small bugs, but some big bugs that hurt when they died on your face. I had to wipe a few off of my glasses. 

Missing grandkids today. I got an update from Cara today that Jane has decided she wants to go on our next trip with us. She'll be 3 in a few months. Maybe Tony will have a lot cuter rider with him on the front of the tandem on the next bike trip. 😃