One of the curious-to-me things about Germany is that, while census-tallied identification with Christianity is much lower than in the U.S., major liturgical holidays remain red-letter days on the calendar. For those of you who aren't high-churchy or medievalists, Ascension Day was this past Thursday, so I sought out some pleasantly open-air, heathenish way of observing it. And so (along with groups of mostly middle-aged Germans) I decided to take this all-archives-closed opportunity to fulfill a long-cherished ambition: taking a long bike ride along the Rhine. This plan was nearly scuppered before it started, as my hastily-packed pullover slipped down into the bike gears (!) and stopped the back wheel in its tracks. I angrily schlepped the thing into the bike compartment of the regional train I was bound for, received the sympathy of fellow-cyclists, and received gratefully the offer of a pair of scissors from another woman's kit. With the help of that scissors, and the helpful kibitzing of the rest of the cyclists, I had the thing in working order again just as we reached Bingen. Several had opined that, even if I got the fabric free, I wouldn't be able to fix the gears because of their age, but: 'Kann nicht' geht nicht; I was not going to be done out of my excursion. A park guard who saw me cautiously testing the gears volunteered a reassuring confirmation that everything looked secure, and a very welcome opportunity to wash my grease-covered hands. And so… I was off!
This crane, in Bingen, dates to the 18th century… but as early as the 15th, Mainz's cathedral chapter controlled one here.
This region has been designated as a UNESCO World Heritage site. For fairly obvious reasons, as well as less obvious ones. Look at those vineyards!
And castles! (Burg Pfalzgrafenstein on the island, and, I think, Burg Katz.) This barge was called the Stella Maris.
The Loreley! Although the Gipfel des Berges was obviously not doing any sparkling in this weather, I sang at it ceremonially.
By this point in the journey, I was feeling that my exertions deserved some photographing of mile-markers.
I stopped to visit a cloister garden in Boppard.
This inviting fountain stands on Boppard's market square. Alas, a more modern plaque below it says "Kein Trinkwasser." Cruel disappointment!
The Virgin surrounded by vines.
The view from the café where I made a mid-afternoon stop.
Dishevelment has definitely set in… but the landscapes are still refreshing to the eye!
Just outside Rhens, a mineral water factory offered this to the passing traveler. I did not actually apostrophize it with "Ein Quell! Ein Quell!" but I did fill my bottle gratefully.
Coming up through the outskirts of Koblenz, the bike route brought me past some very aristocratic-looking villas, on streets named after composers (here Mozartplatz turns into Mozartstraße.)
This gazebo was dedicated to the imperial family.
Tethering my bike at the base of the hill, I climbed up to Ehrenbreitstein.
The Deutsches Eck (confluence of Rhein and Mosel) from above.
Made it! Slightly damp, rather weary, but triumphant with bike under the gaze of Kaiser Wilhelm I.
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