Posted by It was a tour in a state of emergency. In the middle of the biggest crisis in post-war history immediately after the shutdown, the first days of mandatory masks – that alone was remarkable.
As if that wasn’t enough, the two days in constant rain were the most extreme test for our rain gear.
The beautiful landscapes of the Rhön and Harz mountains almost faded into the background.
But only almost…
The tour takes us through 5 federal states over two days, from Biberach in Upper Swabia via the Swabian Alb, the Rhön, the Thuringian Forest and the Harz mountains via the Weserbergland to the beginning of the North German Plain at the Steinhuder Meer.
Distance: 760 kilometers
Riding time: 2 days
GPX data and download: kurv.gr/bfsKD
A Swabian travels to the Rhön
I’ve been preparing for the first tour of the year for weeks. Above all, my equipment for bad weather has been optimized.
That’s why it’s no big deal that I chose the first rainy period at the end of a long and sunny April for my tour to the north.
The conditions are ideal, despite the pandemic restrictions:
- I’m working as a harvest helper, as I do every year, by the way.
- As a motorcyclist, I am perfectly masked.
- Having ridden almost 100,000 crash-free kilometers since 2012, my riding style is extremely defensive.
- I will spend the night in the open, in some lonely parking lot. That’s allowed even in Germany, which is very restrictive in this respect.
- I will only meet other people when I fill up.
About the Swabian Alb
The sky is very cloudy and there is a stiff westerly wind as I set off north in the morning.
Southwest of Ulm, I cross the Danube behind Ersingen, which marks the southward ascent to the Swabian Alb. If it weren’t for the deep incision in the landscape of the Blau near Blaubeuren, you wouldn’t even notice the steady ascent over the hilly, wide landscape. From there, the route descends along some 150 m of sporty hairpin bends to the B28, on which I pass the town center, through the Glasfels tunnel and reach the Alb plateau again on the other side of the valley.
I drive around Ulm on lonely roads. A sharp westerly wind is whistling on the plateau and it’s fun to keep the bike on course by making slight body corrections. The air is fresh and clean, but it smells of rain.
After Amstetten, the time has come: the first heavy drops fall from black clouds and I put on my rain suit. Again and again I cycle through extremely heavy rainfall, alternating with sunny sections.
April weather!
I cross the Rems in Mögglingen and officially leave the Swabian Alb. What comes next is called the Eastern Alb.
The air is extremely clear, the clouds are sometimes menacingly black in bizarre shapes and the distant view over the plateau seems to extend beyond the horizon. Again and again we pass bright yellow rapeseed fields that emit beguiling aromas. My heart beats in time to the long curves of various district roads that lead me straight north.
The rain has subsided and I make the mistake of peeling myself out of the heat of the rain suit.
Through the Hohenlohe to the Main
The next rain is not long in coming, and so the weather in Hohenlohe before Söhnstetten forces me back into my rubber pants. We cross the Hall plain, which isn’t actually that flat, and reach the Jagst near Langenburg, through extreme rain fronts, and thus the Franconian-influenced extreme north-east of Baden-Württemberg.
Meanwhile, the rain pours down on us continuously. The water presses over the windshield and a torrent pours down on our thighs. The Kurviger navigation is difficult to make out under the plastic bag that has been put over it. Fortunately, despite the level of detail on the map, the design of the screen is so clear that I can’t miss the turning points.
Here I pass a great barbecue area, where it would have been impossible to take a break even in good weather. Closed due to the corona pandemic.
After a small hamlet called Sechselbach, the route finally crosses over into Bavarian Franconia until, after what feels like an eternity in the pattering rain, the Main valley near Marktbreit appears.
From the Main to the Rhön
The weather has calmed down a bit and the route continues north along the Main in short sunny stretches on the right. The landscape is lovely and there is plenty to see.
When planning my Kurviger route, I had chosen the small Main ferry from Mainsondheim to Dettelbach to cross the river. Once there, I realize that the embankment is surprisingly deep and steep. The rough cobblestones are wet and look dangerously slippery. Not a soul to be seen.
No, I wouldn’t risk throwing the 300 kg bike and luggage down there. I decide to continue west along the Main to find a better place to cross over.
I’m in luck. In Nordheim, the ferry across to Escherndorf is signposted. The access road is paved and getting onto the ferry is no problem, despite the slippery wooden deck. The crossing only takes a few seconds and, after buying a ticket for EUR 1 and handling my gloves, it passes faster than I can get back on.
The ferryman says goodbye to what feels like his only customer of the day with a friendly greeting. Apart from me, there is not a vehicle to be seen or heard for miles around.
A picnic bench beckons on the other side. Opposite is a campsite, completely empty, cordoned off with red tape.
The sun has suddenly come out and is burning down on my gear. I tip the Integra onto the side stand and peel myself out of my clothes. My suitcase full of food beckons and I place my riches on the picnic table.
Thus fortified, we head uphill along the left bank of the Main into the vineyards and after a short time, the huge cooling towers of the decommissioned Grafenrheinfeld nuclear power plant come into view. It’s amazing how long you have to ride before you actually come face to face with these colossi! The plant now serves as a nuclear interim storage facility for waste that will continue to radiate for another 50,000 years.
We continue on increasingly straight roads, almost reminiscent of Route 66, along the A71, under bizarre cloud cascades from which it pours down again and again, alternating with bright sunshine. The sun shield on my new AFX helmet is used for the first time in the backlight. You don’t even notice that it’s constantly uphill towards the Vorder-Rhön.
I reach Münnerstadt and shortly afterwards ride around Bad Neustadt an der Saale. Meanwhile, the road climbs steeply up into the Rhön, up to an altitude of 500m. In a wonderful valley basin, surrounded by mountains, I ride down to the completely deserted town of Bischofsheim. In Haselbach, the road leads up to Arnsberg in narrow curves.
The large off-road parking lot at an altitude of 680m, at the abandoned ski lift on Arnsberg, will be my camp for the night.
From the Rhön to the Steinhuder Meer
I wake up to the sound of birdsong. I slept soundly and deeply, rather atypical for the first night outdoors. It has cooled down quite a bit, below 10 degrees and 100% humidity.
The inner tent is wet from condensation. The rain from the night has beaded off on the outer tarpaulin, everything is dry.
With stiff bones, I swing my legs out of the bunk and at the same moment two startled roebucks race past me, almost within reach.
All three of us probably have the same palpitations now!
After the pitter-patter of the two beautiful animals in the forest has died down, it becomes quiet and peaceful again.
Off to the Thuringian Forest
I take my time packing, have a little breakfast and then get my stuff together.
The sky above me is blue, but the next wall of rain is already looming to the south. Just as I’ve stowed everything away, it starts to drizzle lightly.
I climb onto the completely filthy cart and descend into the steep ravine, down to Bischofsheim. The place is deserted again and I ride steeply up the other side of the basin to an altitude of 500 meters.
I quickly reach the junction with the turn-off into the Hochrhönstraße. I quickly overtake the gravel truck in front of me and that’s a good thing, because the road turns into a small road that leads in exciting hairpin bends to the plateau of the Lange Rhön. The landscape is very reminiscent of the Cévennes. The road, which has become narrow, can now be seen from afar and has no tight bends, but this does not detract from the driving pleasure. The view over the plateau far into Thuringia is breathtakingly beautiful despite the clouds hanging low on the horizon.
Shortly before Fladungen, I turn left and cross the small corner of the federal state of Thuringia, where the small town of Frankenheim is located. There is nothing to suggest that this place was once closed off from the rest of the world behind the barbed wire of the GDR. On the other side of the village is a sign marking the transition to Hesse.
The route leads steadily downhill along the former zonal border. Nothing in this completely untouched landscape reminds me that this was once the most heavily guarded border in the world. In Geisa, I find myself back in Thuringia, where one of the most important memorials to the former border, Point Alpha, is located.
We continue north on well-maintained but still lonely roads. The weather becomes increasingly sunny. The cloud formations break up and draw bizarre pictures in the deep blue sky. I soon reach the A4, which marks the northern end of the Rhön. I follow it a few kilometers to the east, over to the northernmost tip of the Thuringian Forest. The truck traffic is unpleasantly dense, with only a few cars in between.
Through the Harz Mountains
Before Gerstungen, the route leaves the highway and after Germerode climbs steeply up to the Meissen high plateau, where the Kasseler Kuppe is 750m to the left of the road.
Shortly before reaching Heiligenstadt in Thuringia, the tank level is dangerously low, and in a small town called Uder I find what is probably the cheapest petrol station in Germany. For an incredible EUR 13, I fill up the 15-liter tank to the brim.
I enter the checkout area with my helmet and face mask on.
While I used to avoid doing this in the past so as not to be mistaken for a petrol station robber, I now do it with the feeling that I can offer my fellow human beings maximum protection against infection. I am now one of the good guys!
Cheap petrol, being allowed to walk around wearing a mask…
Not everything that comes across as a disaster has to be one. In any case, my Swabian soul is highly satisfied.
At Weißenborn I cross the former German-German border again. This time to Lower Saxony. I turn off into the parking lot directly on the road with a historic watchtower from the GDR era. A little later, a signpost invites me to take a detour to the Eichsfeld Genzland Museum.
In beautiful sunshine, I reach the imposing valley bridge of the B243 before Bad Lauterberg. The southern flank of the Harz Mountains lies directly in front of me. After Bad Lauterburg, the route climbs steadily through the forest to St. Andreasberg, where I reach a peak altitude of just under 800m behind Sonnenberg.
The weather is changing. The first thick drops fall from pitch-black clouds and I throw on my rain gear, and over the next few kilometers it starts to pour and the cave experience center – Iberger Tropfsteinhöhle with its cafeteria would actually be the ideal place for a coffee break. Of course, the facility is closed and the parking lot is deserted.
On the left-hand side of the road, a soaking wet four-legged friend comes trotting towards me.
A fox!
I stop, but he’s not the least bit interested in me.
When I try to film him, he moves angrily behind the crash barrier, gives me another reproachful look and disappears.
Through the Weserbergland to the Steinhuder Meer
I cycle steadily downhill and leave the Harz Mountains behind me as I leave the forest. As the altitude has decreased, so has the rainfall and after passing Alfeld an der Leine, the first patches of blue become visible in the sky.
The Weserbergland is not really mountainous by southern German standards. These are the first elevations behind the North German Plain in a southerly direction. The view is unobstructed, the landscape wide and even the side roads I’m riding on are largely straight.
It’s a pleasure to cruise north here and towns like Eldagsen or Bad Münder am Deister are a welcome change to admire the historic buildings on the way. I reach my destination in the low sun: the North German Plain with the Steinhuder Meer.
