I don’t know if you’ve ever noticed the little sidebar box on the right-hand side of this blog that says “Lifetime miles.” It’s not totally accurate. It doesn’t account for any of the miles I’ve done on test rides, nor the miles I covered during the arduous and expensive European training process, nor even the roughly 130 miles I racked up when the lovely people at Michelin gave me a bike to play on for a day. But I figure it’s close enough.
She didn’t need to make the suggestion twice. Within seconds of her mentioning it I was researching possible routes on Google Maps. In doing so, I discovered that one possible route runs past the German city of Saarbrücken, where my friend, the mighty Chris James, lives these days. So, I’ve tentatively invited myself out to visit him as part of this trip. I really should drop him a line and let him know I’m coming…
Roundtrip, this adventure will see me riding some 2,500 miles and visiting at least six countries: France, Belgium, Luxembourg, Germany, Switzerland and Italy. If I choose to avoid the notoriously expensive French toll roads on the way down, I may also venture into Austria, though that would mean missing out on the opportunity to ride through the 10-mile-long Gotthard Tunnel. Either way, my route will take me through three completely different eco zones and terrain ranging from flat coastal plain to the Alps. Great googly moogly, y’all: the Alps. My breath stutters just at the thought of it (c).
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| More rides through the Welsh mountains will be called for. |
And that’s the thing. This trip is so big, so grand in vision, that I struggle to properly grasp it in my mind. And with that comes the difficulty of figuring out how in the world I’m supposed to prepare for such a thing. I mean, where do you even start? I guess it might be handy to know how to say a few things in French, German, and Italian. And I suppose I might want to invest in a good-quality map, but where after that?
I am very seriously considering forking out the cash to equip my bike with hard, lockable luggage. I am also inclined to believe it might be a good idea to get myself an up to date and more reliable sat-nav programmed with full European maps (my current not-always-functioning sat-nav covers just the UK and Ireland). I’ll be sure to have the bike checked out by a mechanic before I go, of course. And I’ll pack an emergency tire repair kit, my Haynes manual, necessary tools, and will spend the next few months trying to teach myself how to do roadside fixes of the most likely issues one might face (cables, levers, chain, etc.).
Additionally, I’ll spend these next few months seeking out the more challenging nearby roads (thankfully, we have plenty of those in Wales) to build up my skill level, and I may do a few runs criss-crossing the width of the UK in a day to help me improve stamina for long days. I’ll make sure I’m familiar with the Iron Butt Association’s Archive of Wisdom. I’ll try to figure out how the hell to secure a bike when it’s on a ferry. And so on.
But even with all of this, I get a twinge of fear –– a feeling that when it comes time to point the Honda toward Italia, I will be woefully unready.
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| Stelvio mountain pass in the Alps. |
(b) She’s planning to go in a car with her friend. My bike is simply not passenger-friendly enough to be stuck on the back of it over such a long distance.
(c) If I can build up the guts to do so, I may even tackle the infamous Stelvio Pass.