Eisenach to Wittenberg

Tour overview: this 10-day trip (8 riding days) of 509 km (316 miles) covers mostly-gentle terrain, but with some cobblestones and a bit of sand. The last two-thirds follows the Salle River, then the Elbe. Time permitting; it can be extended eastward to Bad Schandau near the Czech border. There are plenty of opportunities for sightseeing and history: Eisenach, Erfurt, Weimar, Dessau and Wittenberg.

Signage: the first three days are mainly on roads, so signage is generally not a problem. The Salle route is well signed in parts, not in others. The Elbe also has parts where it’s easy to get lost, but improves toward the best-known segment upriver from Dessau. Part of the route overlaps the well-known and well-signed long-distance R1.

Overnight accommodations have improved dramatically, and are generally not hard to find in June (while most schools are still in session). But changing from marks to Euros, and the rise in the Euro, have increased costs considerably. Far more than in the rest of Germany, some knowledge of the language is essential – very few residents over the age of 30 speak English (though small children may delight in practicing theirs with you).

Prologue

First- and last-night reservations were at Hotel Ladage, in the suburb of Schwanheim near the Frankfurt Airport (E 63; taxi E 11). Room was ready upon arrival at 8:30 AM. The owner-manager, whose husband is a tri-athlete, showed me to the basement where I could assemble the bike and leave the case for the duration.

The afternoon provided time for sightseeing and for changing old marks into new Euros (for a fee of E 5). On the following day, the main train station was an easy 10 km away along the Main River path, then through part of downtown Frankfurt (easy going on a Saturday).

As usual, it was easy to buy a ticket, find the bicycle car on the train, and load the bike. On the way to Eisenach, a Swiss couple in the bicycle car showed me their itinerary from Dresden downstream (and maybe upwind) to Cuxhaven. It showed distance, lodging and cost. In comparison, mine was freeform.

In Eisenach (just inside the former East Germany), I asked the attendant at a food stand for directions to my hotel. She didn’t know, so she went inside to ask her boss. He didn’t know, so he asked a pedestrian. This experience bears out the belief that people are friendlier in the east than in the west. Not surprisingly: they had plenty of free time, with half a century of “we pretend to work, they pretend to pay us,” followed by more than a decade of unemployment.

Day 1: Eisenach to Erfurt: 70 km

Day overview: today’s ride is over roads, then a rough path. Terrain is gentle, even in the unpaved part (which follows a rail line).

Map: available at the train station was the BDR (Bund Deutscher Radfahrer) #22, 1:100,000. A good choice, as it sufficed for two full days.

Km 0: Leave Pension Mahret (“Das Puppenstuben:” E 36 without breakfast), heading for train station. With a light rain, I’d considered taking the train as far as Gotha. That’s one advantage of this and many other German trips: the train is an alternative in case of illness, bad weather or serious breakdown. Instead of taking the route in the 8-year-old Slavinsky book, I followed the B7 highway (“Klassikerstrasse”).

At the vicinity of the Eisenach train station, stay on the south (city) side of tracks. Stay on the B7 to a left turn (going under the tracks) to Kahlenberg. Go eastward on a lightly traveled road. Do not follow this road under tracks to Schonau; stay on the north side of the tracks and onto unpaved road. Return to B7 at Saettelstadt, though there’s no sign of an on-road bike lane. Follow B7 into Gotha, including two long but gentle climbs.

There were some segments of bike lane or off-road path. And even the on-road part wasn’t bad. That’s one advantage of riding in the East: it always was a sparsely populated area, and it’s becoming more so. For example: according to the last census, there were 134 persons per square km in the five eastern states (excluding Berlin). For comparison, the popular cycling destination of Bavaria had 170 persons per square km, and Germany as a whole averages 228 persons per square km. Today, the difference is even more extreme; the East has been emptying, as the younger of the 20% unemployed search for work in the west.

The time to Gotha was less than expected, and the outskirts of the town weren’t attractive. That’s another result of the emptying out of eastern Germany: a lot of disused buildings. So in clearing weather and brief sun, I continued eastward on the B7. There’s a convenient supermarket, a Lida, in Siebleben. Having missed the left turn onto a path at the beginning of Tuettleben, I took the next road to Pferdingsleben and Troechtelborn. From there through Zimmernsupra, Alach, and Marbach, the road to the outskirts of Erfurt is lightly traveled. But rain started again, making for a hazardous descent on rough pavement into the city.

Arrived at 2:30 and rode through ongoing construction to the Hauptbahnhof to look for the Tourist Information. No luck. I finally found it after riding to the Altstadt (old city). They were very helpful. But a wait for an answer to their call, slow navigation through rush-hour traffic, and a long wait until someone answered the door, took the next three hours. On the up side, not having a reservation had allowed the last-minute decision to bypass Gotha.

Day 2: Day off in Erfurt

Day 3: Erfurt to Weimar: 28 km

Day overview: Easy at the start, though there’s surely a better way to finish the ride.

Km 0: starting from Anger (the major shopping street), take Kraempfertor, which becomes Kraempferbruecke and then Leipzigerstrasse. Use the wide sidewalk, which is generally well paved and marked for both pedestrians and cyclists.

Km. 4: bike path/sidewalk ends; ride on smooth roadway with moderate traffic.

Km. 10: In Kleinmoesen, turn right for Vieselbach. At Vieselbach, turn left for Niederzimmern.

Km. 15: At Niederzimmern, do not follow main road leftward. Instead, go straight on rough road to bypass the town, rejoining the well-paved road to Hopfgarten.

Km 18: At Hopfgarten, do not follow main road rightward to Utzberg. Instead, stay on the right side of the tracks. Go left through town, bearing left as needed (and enduring cobblestones). Here, the choice is to follow the track marked on the map, leading directly eastward to Weimar, or to ride about 3 km northward. If there’s been a lot of rain lately, the latter is probably the better alternative.

In any event, I elected to take the direct route. Therefore, I turned right alongside a small stream (the Weimarbach, or Weimar Brook). The path gets steadily worse. When asked, people recommended going back to Hopfgarten and around by road. But only one car passed, the terrain is moderate (the trail is parallel to a rail line), and there were bicycle tracks in the mud (mostly ATB tracks, compared to my 700 x 32 (front) and 700 x 37 (rear). Very slow going. I walked here and there, then “crashed” (at about 3 km/hour).

Km 23: the rough track became a farm lane into Troebsdorf. I continued eastward on Weimarstrasse. It was easy on the descent to follow signs (the long way around through the ubiquitous construction) to Hotel Zur Sonne.

The short day’s ride provided an afternoon to ride out to Schloss Belvedere.

Day 4: Weimar to Bad Koesen in 73 km: The Spokesman (1)

Day overview: in my attempt to follow, loosely, the suggestions of Slavinsky, I had a hard day: 73 km, with a lot of climbing. By contrast, a road sign indicates a distance of 44 km from Weimar to Naumburg; my total was twice as much, spread over more than a day. Maybe there’s a moral to this story: even in bicycle-friendly Germany, roads often have better pavement and signage (as well as being more direct).

After an early breakfast and conversation with a retired vacationer from Stuttgart, I was on the road (1) at 9:15. On downtown cobblestones, the hook from a pannier came loose and broke a spoke. Fortunately, a bike store on that very block had just opened.

On the road (2) at 10:20. Brakes rubbing. Back to bike store. Turned out to be my way of attaching broken pannier.

On the road (3) at 10:40. Even the owner of the bike store had said to take the busy highway B7 to Jena. Disregarding his suggestion, the river path turned out to be very pleasant.

NOTE: In retrospect, I made a mistake by not attempting to follow the Ilm River to its confluence with the Salle. Near the Salle there were signs for the Ilm bike path. My map (ADFC Radtourenkarte, 1:150,000) shows modest climbs, a path partway, and lightly traveled roads otherwise.

0 km: From main post office (Postamt), go eastward on Graben, which becomes Untergraben, then curves rightward as Gerberstrasse. Cross bridge, take immediate right onto Wahlstrasse. Then take IMMEDIATE (5 meters) right into park path. Stay near the river.

2 km: merge onto road. Follow signs for Taubach, the Mellingen. In Mellingen, turn left for Apolda, then immediate (40 m) right for Lehnstedt. Continue to Gross-schwabhausen. Cross tracks. Go straight (not on paved road parallel to tracks, and not leftward and slightly downhill). Once through town, the choice is Remderoda or Muenchenroda. Take the latter. [Remderoda, recommended by Slavinsky, involves a long descent of 10%+ after the town]

Although a resident said it was the road to Jena, it ended (June, 2002) where a bridge should have continued over the tracks. Ahead was a gated property guarded by two large dogs. Hence, the only choice was back up that 10%+ climb. This impassible gap looks to be in place for years. In any event, never go into the town of Remderoda itself. The only way out is to turn around and follow the misleading sign for Jena.

From Muenchenroda, the descent into Jena is steep (marked as 12%) and may require a stop to keep the rims from overheating. In Jena, continue leftward when possible. Look for route 88, signposted for Naumburg, and go north to northeast.

Heading out of town, look for the Salle River bikeway sign. However, this paved path soon turns to dirt. Go left to the highway and take the bike/ped pathway on the far side of the highway. Turn right for Kunitz to stay on the Salleradweg. In Kunitz, take the first left for Golmsdorf. From here the climbing starts, well above the river. Signage is generally good.

Near the end of one of the worst climbs (and in an incipient rain) was a real find: Hotel Rittergut, built in 1996 on a 16^th Century foundation (E 40).

Day 5: Bad Koesen to Bad Durrenburg: 61 km

Day overview: this is an easier day, with less climbing.

The 11 km down to Naumburg are a fast cruise. Getting through the town is a different matter, especially with the ubiquitous cobblestones. Here’s the obvious place for refreshment and touristing. I rather like the modern fountain in the Holzmarkt, overlooked by an impressive, multistory oriel window. The tourist information is in the Markt, not Steinweg. It provides a map and directions back to the Salle River path.

A few km downriver was a temporary welcome station with maps, of both the Salle and Ilm pathways. The map is in the same format as those for, e.g., the Elbe or the Danube. It’s a foldout, with lists of accommodations interspersed with maps of sections of the path.

Bad Durrenburg has an amazing salt production facility, about 10 m high and half a mile long and centuries old. Salt has long been an important product of the Salle River valley from here to Halle (somewhat like the St Clair River between Port Huron and Detroit).

Day 6: Bad Durrenburg to Alsleben: 78 km

Day overview: the terrain today is gentle, but the quality of both trail and signage leave much to be desired.

The first few km were easy and pleasant. Then came the Merseburg-Halle conurbation, which lasts for 30 km. I was intermittently on the bike path and cobblestone. My problem in Halle itself was staying to the west of the city, rather than being sucked into the downtown area. [Some German towns are a Roach Motel for cyclists: they can get in but not out.]

By mistake, I wound up on the heavily traveled E49, and followed road signs for Koennern. While I don’t recommend this route, there was a bike path/sidewalk along parts of the road. A compass (attached to the handlebar bag) was very useful. Also useful was skepticism about directions received. I got good directions at Sennewitz. After 3 km, turn left for Brachwitz. Then northward for 1 km, left for Fredrichsschwerz, then north for Doeblitz. Just before Doeblitz, a sign of improvement: the rightmost two feet of a cobbled road had been covered with asphalt. At fork, I went left on a well-paved road; that may have been a mistake, as it took me quickly to another cobbled section.

Entering Wettin, the road improved from cobblestones to rough gravel. The next 9 km, from Wettin to Rothenburg, are slow, varying between trackless grass to single-track. Even my 700 x 37 rear tire spun out in mud on gentle climbs. After refreshments in Rothenburg, the route continued to be dirt track or worse, with minimum signage. Hence, it was a relief to come upon the busy B6 about one km from Alsleben.

After 82 km of slow going, it was time to look for a place to stay. The invaluable Salle Radweg guide picked up at the “welcome station” near Naumburg (and handed to me at the hotel in Bad Durrenburg also) listed only one place in Alsleben: Bauer’s Radscheune. It turned out to be a bar and snack, not a pension or hotel. But they really went out of their way to phone around for a place to stay. Then they apologized for finding one that charged E 31 (without breakfast). That was the weekend rate at Hotel Stadt Alsleben, which has all the charm of an army barracks, with a surly waitress/clerk in the role of a sergeant. It was a relief to return to Bauer’s for dinner.

Day 7: Alsleben to Barby: 69 km

Day overview: from here on, there are no hills worth mentioning. My route was a mix of good path, some cobblestones, and paved roads with light traffic (at least on a Sunday).

Breakfast was ready when I came down at 8 -- a contrast to B&Bs in the English countryside, where it’s hard to be on the bike by 10. Two fifty-plus cyclists were on their way to Dessau to catch the train back home to Berlin. One can get onto the R1 after a dozen miles of highway, or follow the Salle and get directly onto the R1 just downriver from Bernburg. Either alternative provides a considerable shortcut to my route.

The first 10 km is well signed: mostly dirt, with a little single-track. The castle at Ploetzkau is picturesque, as is the one at Bernberg. As usual, getting out of Bernberg took a while, but the reward was a better path, as the Salle Route and the R1 converged. Signs took me into Calbe, where a bar-grocery was open on Sunday. Lunch plus a Radler (a mix of beer and lemonade) for E 2. With most stores closed on Sunday, I’d carried food. Water is often hard to find anywhere in Germany. That’s especially true in the East, with its sparse population. On this trip, I usually started with about three liters, in two bottles and a leaking Camelbak.

Getting out of Calbe again took a while, on road. The route to Barby (at the confluence of the Salle and Elbe) was slow, with cobblestones and gravel. The ferry over a small tributary (E 0.50) came immediately. In Barby, population 5000, there was a sign for a “Bett und Bike,” complete with a coupon for a 5% discount. It was the Pension Zur Galerie (E 36). It’s a delightful place: friendly management, well back from the quiet street, with a shaded garden and beer.

Day 8, Barby to Dessau: Serial Serendipity in 56 km

Day Overview: this segment is immediately downriver from the best-known part of the Elbe (i.e., from Dessau to Bad Schandau). It was the only time I had any difficulty with the soft sand that’s prevalent further to the north. Signage is hit-or-miss, and a major detour proved worthwhile.

Some stats about the Salle River bikeway: in 427 km from Zell to the Elbe, it descends from 699 m to 52 m (that’s about 1.5 m per km, or 0.15% average grade).

After an 8:55 start, I still managed to get lost – starting from the river’s edge of a very small town. Then a long delay for the ferry; at this point, the Elbe path is on the north side of the river. Once across, it’s an easy 2 km to Walternienburg. The Elbe is a slow-flowing river in a wide flood plain; without map, the location of the path was not obvious. In town, I guessed and took the first right turn. Immediately, two German cyclists confirmed that my guess was correct. Better yet, they had the excellent 1:75,000 Bikeline maps. I stayed with them all the way to Dessau.

At one point they went down a dirt track, only to find they were lost (despite maps). They asked directions, and a long conversation ensued (again, Easterners seem to have time for this). First topic was to get directions. Then a discussion of what they were doing (Magdeburg to Prague in four days!). Seeing me standing silently, the resident said something like, “Who is your dummkopf friend?” Answer: “Amerikanisher.”

And off we went, in single-track and intermittent sand, where the fatter tires on their utilitarian bikes worked better than my cross tires; I worked hard to stay with them. Still in woods, we stopped at one of the picnic tables so often provided. Fortunately, I’d brought provisions from breakfast.

Regaining the paved road, I now had an easy time of it; they worked hard while I loafed. After several km at 24-28 kph, we stopped where the path went leftward into the woods. A sign warned of a bad path, so we stayed on the paved road. In a western suburb of Dessau, we rode up on a large group of touring cyclists, many wearing AFDC jerseys. (The Allgemein Deutsche Fahrrad Club, or United German Cycling Club, is a national organization with 110,000 members.) Intrigued by the orange pennants carried by the last two riders, I asked if either spoke English. One did, and explained that the pennants inform motorists that the group has passed. He had radio communication with the leader in front; he used it when one rider stopped for a minor adjustment. He also explained that they were heading for the Bauhaus – exactly my destination.

Talking with the sweep, I failed to notice when my original guides headed left to follow the Elbe path towards Prague. Without planning, I’d been handed from one group to another. I simply followed the ADFC group of about 24 to the Bauhaus and joined their prearranged tour. Seeing that I understood little of what the guide was saying, they in turn handed me off to an English-language tour. The members of this tour were grad students from the London College of Design – clearly people who knew what they were seeing and hearing. They, along with their local hosts, voted to let me join their group.

The Nazis, who controlled the Dessau city council, closed the Bauhaus in 1932. It was damaged by the Nazis during wartime use. The East German government did a bad restoration, so only recently has serious restoration been done, based on limited documentary evidence (such as black-and-white photos). Thus, the restoration of the original colors has been mostly a matter of archaeological research.

Before coming to Dessau, I’d feared that the Bauhaus would be an ossified monument to its brief (1924-32) existence in Dessau. Not so. It’s a school of planning, whose ongoing projects include housing in a favela (where no one has title to land), integrating workspace and home in an era of telecommunications, and redesign of an emptying city as islands surrounded by parkland. The example of the latter was Dessau itself, but the guide said that Detroit might be another useful application.

After lunch with the worldwide group of students, they went by bus to the Meisterhauser (faculty homes), while I rejoined the ADFC group for beer. One of them clearly didn’t like the Bauhaus. I couldn’t tell if his distaste was for its architecture or for his taxes that went for its restoration.

By now it was time to look for a room. The one harried clerk at the Ti in the train station spoke no English. Calling several places, she found me a room (E 30) at Pension am Tiergarted (aka Pension Kunick), Wasserstadt 38. Its interior courtyard made it pleasant enough to justify another night –especially after a beer in the 93-degree heat.

Day 9: Day off in Dessau and Woerlitz: The Spokesman(2)

At breakfast, another guest told of her trip back from Hamburg to her home in Dresden. Woerlitz is a late 18^th Century imitation of an English county estate. I only wished that cyclists were allowed on the extensive paths.

Starting for Oranienbaum, I discovered another broken spoke. Luckily, there was a bicycle shop within easy walking distance. In mid-afternoon, it was still hot (90 degrees); I ran out of water, even with shade on much of the route. Heading back to Dessau, I missed the path because of a construction detour, so arrived at the Meisterhauser after closing time. Also saw the Kornhaus on the Elbe and (after a search) the Arbeitsamt (a block of workers’ apartments downtown).

Nearly all of Dessau’s restaurants seem to be located in the pedestrian zone near the Rathaus.

Day 10: Dessau to Lutherstadt Wittenberg: 66 km.

Passing Woerlitz again, I caught the ferry to Coswig. The cobblestones are especially brutal in the 6 km from the ferry to Coswig. But here was one place where the cyclist has it better than the motorist: there’s an informal dirt path alongside, where the occasional pothole is vastly preferable to cobblestones. In town, I inadvertently rode the wrong way on the one-way main street, and was warned against doing so.

From Coswig on, the paved path follows the highway. Getting a draft from a local cyclist, I didn’t see much scenery. But then again, there wasn’t much to see. The Youth Hostel was easy to find: straight up in the castle (67 steps – I counted them 4 times). A large American group was leaving: the first American I’d heard since Frankfurt, except for the Bauhaus. Another large group was due the following day, so I’d inadvertently hit a low day. The only other guest in my room (capacity 11) was an 82-year old Austrian. Totally fluent in English, he’d worked all over Europe. Now, he spends nearly all his time traveling – very light. Passionate about youth hostels, he explained that the one here is “very basic,” and that preference should be given to members (instead of casual arrivals like me).

Day 11: Wittenberg to Berlin by train: 8 km.

Having rented an audio guide at the Ti last afternoon, I’d seen the exterior of the main sights. Today, I tried to visit Lutherhaus, but it was closed for renovation. The Melancthon house doesn’t open until 10, so there wasn’t enough time to visit it and still catch my train. But early morning is a good time to cruise around town, before the dreaded tour buses arrive.

Near the station was an example of how the switch to Euros has raised the traveler’s costs: on a sign for a hotel, “80DM” had been painted out, replaced by “€59.” That’s an increase of 44% in one year!

It took a while to buy a ticket; there’s apparently another connection, at a cost of less than E 14.60 but with two changes.

With 4 hours between trains at this small station, I was glad I’d come early. Hauling a loaded bicycle up stairs (a common impediment at German stations) also takes time.

On the train, a very helpful student gave directions. Once in Berlin, he went out of his was to guide me to the right S-Bahn. A mid-day arrival was a good idea, as the train was less crowded. On board, I chatted with a woman who was taking her dog for a swim, via bike and S-Bahn. Great way to spend a day of a hot week!