The first view from the Luxembourg border of the rolling pastures of my Oma´s homeland, Germany. I stopped at the first Imbiß that I saw and managed to speak somewhat intelligibly to someone in a foreign language in placing my order, which was a new experience. The Germans have been the friendliest and most helpful of all. For example, I do not even need to ask for directions in this country- if I am even looking at a map looking slightly confused someone will come up and ask if they can help. Dang I´m glad I was a German major. (8/14/04)

Cycling along the Mosel River Valley was truly a ride that I will remember and take with me to the grave. The gently winding banks of the Mosel with sloping green valley walls covered in grapes and golden fog is a sight that is not easily forgotten. The ride was on a protected bicycle highway (over 130 km) with tons of other cyclists out to enjoy the beauty of this wine producing region. Flasks of Reisling and counters filled with Schwarzwalder Torte ensured the happiness of all who dared to venture into this territory. (8/14/04)

I feel both at ease and inspired by Cologne, and it is a treat to ride the train into the city and to walk around its neighborhoods. The modern art museum here has a really cool collection of works from the artists in the Brücke movement and currently has a special temporary exhibit of Northern California comic book artist Robert Crumbs´ works. It´s beginning to feel like fall, my favorite season, and leaves are often blowing in the streets. (8/18/04)

Life is indeed good here in Germany where I am staying with my relatives, Marcus and Gabriele (far left and center), near Cologne. After a couple of months of cycling it was great to arrive at their doorstep looking and smelling like a low plains drifter and yet still to receive the warmest of welcomes. In case you were wondering, they have an unbelievably gemütlich house in the country with a backyard garden that would surpass anything in Home and Garden. There is also an adorable St. Bernard here that is willing to jump into any available body of water regardless of its size or contents. And the evening dinners have been fantastic. This is a photo after a dinner with their friend Günther (right), who made the best tofu salad (complete with a full selection of paired wines) that you or I will ever have in our entire lives, no jive. Earlier we had walked the St. Bernard down a meadow path shaded by ripe berry bushes, and plum, hazelnut and apple trees. I could not believe the abundance of free food hanging over our heads. Cologne is a blast, and the neighborhood near the Zülpicher Straße reminds me a lot of the Mission in San Francisco with its multitude of hipsters in the coffee shops. If you were here you would not want to leave, trust me. Thanks Marcus and Gabriele for making my stay here a real pleasure! (8/19/04)

Leaving Marcus and Gabriele´s house after an extended stay, modelling some recently-acquired cold weather riding gear for my newly-planned northern route. The morning of my departure I rolled out of the warmth of my soft feather bed, showered for the last time in the spotlessly clean light blue-tiled bathroom, ate a full breakfast (of sugar cereal with refrigerator-cold soymilk, and cinnamon bread with homemade jam), said goodbye to the faithful St. Bernard, and began cycling into the autumn chill in the direction of Belgium, psychologically prepared to resume the hardscrabble lifestyle of drifting from one European campground to the next. 8/31/04

Bella the St. Bernard modelling her show-dog pose in the Garden after eating an early morning piece of toast that I fed her on my way out. She really liked bread - and going for evening strolls of course. She also liked watching the Olympics in the evenings while occasionally drooling on the tile floor. St. Bernards are the greatest, and Bella is a perfect example of the primacy of this breed. 8/31/04 *

On the first day back on the road I cycled through the Eifel nature reserve in western Germany en route to the Belgian border, where I caught views of lakes and rolling hills along the manure-dotted lanes. Lunch this day was a malodorous affair; I mistakenly sat across from a greasy-faced and putrifying human wreck and his bandaged sidekick at a Turkish falafal establishment and tried to breath through my mouth while choking down my pita. Later in the afternoon I reached Einruhr and stopped to stare into the darkening lake surrounded by hillsides covered in pine. As I approached the Belgian Ardennes the weather was wildly fluctuating between sunny, overcast, and torrents of rain. 8/31/04