Day 4 Wednesday.
I’d had the perfect sleep until my alarm sounded at 0430, 5am and 0530, eventually I dragged myself out of bed and was on the road at 6am. Arriving in town at 7am just as the supermarket and bakery were opening. Just before town I’d found Morgan packing up his gear. “where the fuck did you come from?” “Yeh, I did a long day, rode into the night to get ahead of you, had a shit couple of hours sleep in my bivvy, and have spent the last two hours trying to get out of bed and watching the tracker until you started moving”. So, the race is on is it…. We chatted briefly and I thought we could ride to town together, but he was spending forever packing up and faffing around, like you do on 3 hours sleep. So I said, “I’ll see you for coffee in town”.
I bought second breakfast at the supermarket where I saw supermarket buddy Detlev again and also Tobbe (where the fuck did he come from?) Tobbe mentioned he’d had a crash in the dark, he’d hit a badger, he would later scratch because of damage to his bike from the crash. I had first breakfast at the bakery with a huge cup of coffee. Morgen was grumbling and coughing like a man that had ridden too far the previous day and hadn’t slept enough. I then set off with the intentions of making the most of Morgans crap sleep by putting as much distance between us as I could that day. I suspected that he’d peaked too soon and hoped to stay ahead while sticking to my 6 hours sleep plan. Sadly later that day Morgan had mechanical problems with his front wheel and had to wait a day for spares…..
An hour after town I stopped at the perfect spot for second breakfast. Soon after Peter F zoomed past with a wave.
The rest of the day was fairly easy cycling despite the heat with regular supermarkets and towns. The one stretch where I almost ran out of water broken with a random farm with ice cold raw milk out of a machine. It was perfect, throw money in, fill your bottle then receive change to the cent. Though maybe riding in 35 degrees with a belly full of 1.5L of raw milk wasn’t my best idea of the trip.
After Rothenbulh I missed a turn off so had to cycle a km or two back rather than take the short route (staying within the theme of racing rules). Soon after that the route was nice and flat along a river. It looked so tempting to just jump in and spend the evening hanging around the cool water, maybe another time…..Just maybe I could make it to Bayreuth and get a hotel for a nice shower and charge my gadgets?.
I pushed on, still meeting Detlev at supermarkets and eating much more carbs than I usually would. The bonus of not usually eating carbs was that they were like rocket fuel, my legs were on fire.
Sadly the flat route didn’t stay flat and the road to Bayreuth seemed to take forever. I arrived in the city around 10pm, too late to get a hotel really, that seemed like a waste of money. Ironically I spoke to Peter F the next day and he had taken a hotel, but had wasted almost 2 hours finding one that had a room available. I stocked up on food and water at a petrol station in the city, had a quick wash in the toilets and pushed on.
Just outside of town I bumped into Peter S. We’d had a brief chat that afternoon and again now at a golf course. “do you plan to camp here? ” I asked? “no, just having dinner then I’ll push on late into the night, I’m a night owl”. I was surprised to see him after he’d been so far ahead the last days. I didn’t quite know what to make of Peter. He’d obviously gone to great lengths to look like a misfit or homeless bum. His shorts had been repaired a dozen times, his cycle helmet would have been more at home in a 1990’s canoeing or rock climbing trip. He had the keen eye of someone that knows a few more secrets to life than the rest of us and he had the cheeky grin of Captain Jack sparrow. As I left him eating dinner on that golf course I didn’t know whether to give him a hug or cut his tires and ride while I still could. That night he hit the gas and I didn’t see him again until the last morning.
A little broken I eventually found a flat camping spot in a field an hour or so after the city and again had 6 hours sleep. 
My first 200km day (3000vm) was done, my new 11 day plan was still looking good.
Day 5 Thursday.
I woke up feeling like shit with a throbbing headache, dehydrated or carb overdose or both? It felt the same as that awful morning leaving Romansfontein during the Freedom Challenge. The coffee and cake in the first village killed the headache and answered that question. I resigned myself to a high carb fuelling strategy for the rest of the trip. It had only been a matter of time.
Day 5 was my mechanicals day, my RH pedal had been ticking and feeling loose for the last day, I popped into a DIY store and bought a cheap spare just incase I didn’t make it the 180km to the next bike shop.
The easy early morning riding was followed by a cheeky climb up Waldstein. To my relief the restaurant was open so I plugged my battery pack into the wall and ordered lunch, planning to take an hour to rest and recharge. 30 minutes in a clatter from the kitchen meant my lunch would take another 20 minutes to arrive, though the food was great, the extended lunch break was longer than I’d planned.
I left Peter F eating his lunch and blasted down the hill. A quick look at my gps to see when the next turn off would come, I looked up and saw some large rocks, a little too late but not the end of the world. I lifted the front wheel, went airborne and just stayed in control as the front wheel smashed into the next set of stones. Bang, then the woosh woosh as sealant sprayed out of the new hole in my front tyre….bugger. I tried a plug but it disappeared into the 15mm cut. (it seems the new Schwalbe addix tires are far less cut resistant than the older version of the racing Ralph, this was my second serious cut in a couple of weeks).
Peter stopped briefly to ask if everything was ok then moved swiftly on….I didn’t want to use my only inner tube just yet, so went for the Mcquiver solution of sewing up the cut from the outside with dental floss and hoping the sealant would do the rest. If that didn’t work I could always sew it properly with a patch on the inside.
The dental floss repair that lasted 800km.
Happily the bent rim and floss sealed nicely and stayed sealed until the end of the trip. I only had to add a little air each morning. It was only during the last day just after the finish that the tire became too leaky. With the slippy handed waitress and the Mcguiver time, I’d wasted almost 2 hours of good riding time….bugger.
With a little less confidence in my front wheel I pushed on (very slowly on the down hill bits) and later in the afternoon passed CP2 (after a short chat with singlespeed Rolf in a dodgy cafe).
I pushed on into the early and damp evening feeling a little chilly and tired. I was ready for a hotel night but didn’t anticipate finding one. I figured my battery pack would just about last another day of charging my gadgets. Then randomly I encountered a ski resort with signs for 4 hotels….Bingo. I rolled up to the biggest and most impersonal hotel and was prepared to pay up to 100 euro for a shower and the chance to wash my cloths. My bum and man bits now looked like an S+M party gone wrong and I really wanted to give them some attention. A single room was 72 euro….” bingo, money left over for steak and beer.” Finishing at 8pm felt like cheating, and I knew other riders would pass me in the night. But the chance to freshen up, clean up, recharge my gear and get a good nights sleep would be a great way to finish phase one of the trip. Setting me up nicely for the second 5 day phase of my plan.
Another 100km and 2400vm in the pocket….
