Gute Radfahrt!

So, our bikes showed up today. More proof that Germans make up their words after they experience an event. The German word for a bike ride is Radfahrt. If you've ever ridden a bicycle for an extended period of time, you probably understand. There may be no better description for how you feel after you've relieved a little GI pressure during a prolonged sitting exercise than "Rad Fart!."

So, about 4PM we get the bikes back to the hotel and I suggest to the Fassmeister that today would be a good day to break in the Rads (bikes). She's willing, though skeptial. You see, a few days before, we went down to the local bookmonger and bought some very descriptive maps of the bike trails around the area. I was uber excited. (You see how my German is just coming right along? I switch between English and German like I am a native. Truely, I am some sort of super Deutschemeister. Genau.) Anyway, I was beaming over all of the cartography I had of the region and was ready to test the accuracy of the maps. Das Fassmeister was aware of this. She has also experienced one or two of my "quick" trips when some sort of new gadget caught my eye. Maps can easily be that gadget.

A few comments about the German bike trails. The ones we rode today were great. They go through the trouble to lay a different color brick on the sidewalk if that area is reserved for bikes. The trails are mostly bike and pedestrian only, not just areas that they suggest bikers use. I am thoroughly impressed, and excited about our future biking prospects.

Anyway, after "convincing" her that we'd just roll from the hotel, down this little stretch, a rects here, a links there, and we'd be back in time for a nice dinner, she agreed. She, gullible as she is, buys into the whole thing. Two and a half hours later, one ANGRY Fassmeister.

Problem is, I suggested dinner. Due to this oversight on my part, the thoughts of schnitzel and beer never left the Fassmeister's mind. At one point, I even suggested to her that we could stop for dinner, and complete the rest of the trip half buzzed on Pilsner. Unfortunately, she took me up on this offer a short time later. Probelm is, the Germans rarely accept anything other than cash, and our current holdings were limited. I waited for just the right moment, and mentioned this situation right about the time she dismounted the Rad... not necessarily my best idea. (Humorous though it may have been.) We eventually found a Gelbautomat (ATM) and ate at a restaurant near the hotel. It took two beers for here to stop complaining about the saddle sores. Unfortunately, the third beer brought the complaints back. I can't wait until tomorrow.