The funniest thing happened on my way to Essen’s highest point

Biking in Gemany on the longest day of the year

Not where I thought I was going

i had plans for the last day of spring – the longest day of the year – here in germany the day has stretched itself out to almost 16h 40min – more day than i can handle as it turns out

i got up early but there was sadly no sunrise to see – just a dark cloudy sky – i nonetheless really wanted to celebrate the longest day of the year outside – loaded up some cache coordinates, some cookies and water and jumped on the bike – ultimate destination: essens highest point

at least thats where i thought i was headed

biking here is so fantastic – one of my favourite things about europe – the paths and connections to back country roads – and there is so much to see in a small area

at home you bike and bike and bike through raw wilderness – which has its charms and i love that too but it is hard to beat the steady stream here of charming and new mixed with ancient and romantic – a bike ride remembered here is a flood of everchanging scenes and scenery

Big ring superhighway round Baldeney Lake

living on a hill as we do, everywhere is downhill, even a trip to the highest point in the city, starts with a quick and twisty descent through dark woods and deep gulleys – then i plod a bit through the streets and road construction in kupferdreh, the only real barrier between me and freedom of the bike paths around Baldeney Lake

the lake is big and beautiful and calm – theres mostly just fishermen here at 6 am on sundays – theyve slept in tiny tents by the shore and they each have two or three lines in the water running from long poles set up on stands – they sip coffee from thermoses and curse under the breath at the arrival of the first joggers and bikers

the path along the lakeshore is like a cyclists superhighway – big ring paradise – but then a quick left turn and im in the woods – playing in a little homemade “dirt park” – you know the place: out of the way behind the train tracks. some kids with shovels dig jumps and ramps and tracks – and then 40 year olds who’ve never caught air in their life, sneak in sunday mornings and freak out a little – chicken out a lot

time to keep moving – up into the hills on wide flat crushed gravel paths – occasionally slowing around packs of nordic walkers or dog walkers – on old railbeds lined with mossy stone walls, jungly green woods

Down the slope, under the pipe,over the bridge, behind the tree...

i stop to look for a geocache – down a steep bank of thorns and skinny trees to a huge concrete pipeline – moss covered and massive – i assume the big pipe is for water – where its going or coming from i have no idea – i duck under the pipe to a small metal service bridge over a skinny drainage canal behind a tree under a rock – aha

back on the bike and bouncing over skinny winding country lanes with chest high grass or wheat for shoulders – eye-catching rolling fields of waving wheat – still green but starting to show hints of gold

then fast again on bigger roads between villages – villages marked by a big flowered green space and a fountain in the middle of an otherwise empty intersection

i turn off on a farmer’s dirt track to an old wooden bench with a long view over sloping fields – a hidden valley – a checkerboard of yellows greens and browns – i soak up the view, take photos and refuel with water and cookies -

a older woman walks down the dirt path, sandals and socks – she asks me if now i appreciate the ruhr gebiet is not just coal mines and steel plants – obviously i look like a tourist – at least not someone from this village of farmers – i explain ive only ever known this side of the ruhrgebiet – that its only thanks to ruhr.2010 (and rob.2010) that ive learned about the coal and steel

Ruhrgebiet wheat

we talk a while about the area and about coal and she tells me there was no coal here in her village – i tell her that the remains of zeche rudolphe are in the woods not 500m away – she is shocked and concedes im right

we talk about my search for the highest point in essen, which she thinks is there where we are standing – i know it is 600m away, in the opposite direction to rudolphe, but i dont know how to get there as no roads seem to go that way – maybe where im standing was my destination after all

as if to make her point, she has a surprise for me – only 10m away, hidden behind a bush is a stone – a boulder – do you know why this stone is here she asks?

it is a graves stone and marks the spot where she found her husband, dead, in 1984, after he didnt come back from his walk – here overlooking his fields (now farmed by his daughter) is his final resting place

i want to stay and talk longer – dig deeper if you will – but she has come to visit her man and i feel like i am keeping her from a date – she apologizes for keeping me – i wish she hadnt – i wish she knew how much it pleased me to hear her story – the small part of it i heard – maybe i can go back and hang out and meet her again

Essen's highest point - 202m above sea level

i continue my the original quest – another small village another road hemmed in with fields – a sideroad – hidden among overgrown grass and unruly brambles, a stone – the highest point in essen – 202 m above sea level – theres a geoacache – i sign the log -take a photo of the stone

but it hardly seemed important or  even interesting – this lifeless storyless stone with its cold hard facts to proclaim – much more alive and interesting was the other unsure uncertain unheralded stone

the grave stone had a broader view of fields and hills, a bench for resting, was better looked after and better attended to – its a place i want to go back to – a discovery worth the five hour bike ride

Day is done

sometimes, often, most of the time, if we are living right, we have no idea where we’re really going when we go out the door

Full set (15) fotos