Bermuda Triangle Moment

Another route change to what had been planned. For reasons that I can't quite fathom I didn't want to go to Nuremburg. Yes there are hills involved but that had never stopped me before.

So I'm going with my hunch as an intuitive decision is something I stick with.  I had a route heading out of Wertheim heading towards Ansbach. Well the plan was good. 

I was up early and broke camp by 8.15am before the weather got too hot. I had also heard on the grapevine that thunder and showers were forecast for this evening.  Not wanting to be caught I though early was a good idea. 

Following the Main has been a real highlight.  It's a gorgeous river and I never tire of being alongside it.  But my new route was taking in the valley of the Tauber.  A much smaller 'beck' as we would have it up north.  

There were some hills today as I needed to swap river valley for river valley.  But it made for a change from the flat.  My legs felt quite fresh for the recovery day so I was pleased how 'ok' they felt on the way up the hills. 

Apparently I am in what is known as the Romantic Corridor.  It is a well known area in Germany and coach tours are in evidence in some of the towns. I know this is mad, but I actually headed towards one village, Bad Mergentheim simply because I wanted to see what was bad about it.  Nothing stuck out.   I took this picture along the route simply because as a bronze statue it was wicked.  Literally!

The town of Rothenburg ob der Tauber is truly breathtaking.  I actually stopped my bike to have a wander around the streets because it was just so mesmerising. This area is becoming a clear candidate for a return trip as a tourist.  (Huge difference to a journeyman)

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Then things went skew. Was it because I just opted for the wrong turn, was it the planning of the route, the lack of campsites or was I simply in Bermuda? I often encounter one of these places where time, distance and my internal compass gets messed with.  I ended up travelling a whole 40km that actually advanced my journey by 20km.  But the upside was the countryside was stunning, great little roads and the odd beck that I literally dropped off my bike for so that I could stand knee high in chilled water. The temperature was high in the afternoon and the sweat was dripping.  Felt loads better though.  

Anyway at least the campsite was where it should be and the ground is soft and lush and the welcome was genuine. 

Crossing the road: now this one takes a bit of imagination but a Cowboy on a bike.   Fully clad in embroidered shirt and a Stetson.  He had left the chaps off though. I think he might have heard me having a laugh!! Oooops.