Cycle Tour Vedsoe Naturist Camp and Viborg

After the very hot day yesterday and the news about thunderstorms here in Viborg the day before, I had figured out the possibility of a thunderstorm. But not with the soggy land rain that poured down this morning. The tent was wet but everything else was dry. And I remembered praising myself for putting all my stuff under a canopy, where I also ate my breakfast; muesli with milk and a slice of bread with butter. And then I prepared sandwiches for lunch. Before, of course, I had once again bathed in the lake. One had to descend steep stairs, and then take care not to slip on the slippery jetty. Due to the rain, I was in no hurry to pack up and saddle my iron horse. But ithere was no sign of a weather change, so I might as well get it done first and last. And today's 100 km menu, which contains quite a few altitude meters (813 biroto says) also had to be started. And at At 10.30 I turned my back at my lonely campsite and trampled the same road towards Viborg as last night. This was half an hour later than my, it turned out very realistic, plan that said 10 km / h with breaks. Then I could be in Horsens at. 8pm. Eleven minutes before my train to Odense departed. No piece of magic... But for the first many hours I was at least half an hour behind the delayed schedule, so I was a full hour after the original. Ugh! But rain, hills and my heavy, heavy bike, plus an unusually large need to stuff food and drink into me, made me slow like a turtle. Maybe I just wasn't very motivated today either. At least for the first part. I do not know. There was nothing wrong with the landscape, on the contrary. The well-known from childhood holidays, Hald lake with the manor and Inderoe forest as well as Dollerup hills, where the heather blossomed beautifully lived up to my expectations. Although there is something missing in a landscape in rainy weather! After Dollerup I encountered a very difficult stretch of gravel road, where I constantly went uphill for several kilometers. The rains two days before had washed away lots of gravel, so I had to go slalom between the canals and the water that flew against  me right now. Well, arriving up in Skelhoeje, I raided the grocery store and slurped a cocoa milk with a roll with butter. They had dining tables and chairs in the middle of the shop. It's Jutland, it's smart. Afterwards, the terrain became somewhat easier down to Thorning. Shortly after Thorning, I punctured my front wheel. No big deal, but it still took some dexterity in the rain to patch the hole, because I couldn't find any  shelter there. Now the hunger had arrived, and I looked out for Grathe church's porch for lunch, because there I had made coffee on the gas cooker on a previous bike holiday. Inside the porch! The reason was, as now, rain. Furthermore, there is a toilet in the porch itself. Very convenient. That's probably because Grathe church is not old. On a plate above the entrance to the nave it says that the vicar built the church in 1913 and after his death his wife built the tower in 1917. Thank God! Grathe heath is, after all, known for its drab battle for royal power in 1157 between Svend 3rd Grathe, Knud 5th. and Valdemar 1st. the Great. At a party in Roskilde, the three bids for kinghood had agreed to each be king in respectively. Scania, the islands and Jutland. But Svend destroyed the peace by killing Knud. Valdemar escaped and challenged Svend to battle on Grathe heath later in the year. Here Valdemar's victory was total and Svend was killed with an ax. I thought about that as I munched my sandwiches in the porch of Grathe Church. On the field north of the church stands Thor Lange's memorial cross in memory about the event. I jhad seen it earlier and as the rain had stopped (temporarily), I did not put on the rain jacket but a bike jacket and long legs instead. I found it chilly. But I soon grew too hot, and besides, rain soon spat down again, so I donned the wet rain jacket again. Now it was not far to Kragelund here on the Ancient road's route, where there is also a shop. Here I bought a cake for coffee, which I intended to cook and drink on the shore of lake Snabe Igelsoe, approx. 22 km further south. And most of them became quite challenging, especially south of Funder I drove from approx. 100 m height into a "hole" to 35 m and up again to approx. 120 m. Fortunately the road was good and the traffic light. About 5 km before Vrads I turned off the Ancient road route and "interchanged" via a short forest trail to the disused railway track path "Bryrupbanestien", route No. 31. It is a cycle route in its own trace, where the other route mostly followed minor roads. Luxury. And now Vrads station appeared. Their veteran steam train was still in service, I could hear. It was puffing and whistling, but I let it make noise without further notice, because now I was thirsty for coffee and the piece of perfect nature lake Snabe Igelsoe was very close.

The best thing was that the clouds had finally rained off and dissolved themselves, so the sun was shining from an almost clear sky. So I found all my wet stuff and hung it up or put it in the sun. My sandals I quickly missed. Despite the rain, I had kept them on, so they really needed the sun. In the meantime  I cut myself in the big toe on something lying in the grass. Weird, but I didn't notice it. My left big toe has become quite numb in recent years. Now I enjoyed  a bath in the lake. The water is crystal clear and quickly grows deep. It is 10 meters deep. And I dived down there a bit until it was pitch black all around me. The lake is completely surrounded by forest, and I got almost Finnish sensations and felt free. However, I took a towel around the loin. This was not empty Finland, but Jutland, and as a matter of fact two ladies came wandering while I sat drinking coffee on the lake shore. They were clearly astonished to meet a wild man, I could read from their greetings. Time had been my worst enemy on the cycle route down here. I had tried in vain to catch up with my delay, but without success. Now I figured out that Iif  could leave from here at 15 o'clock and then raise the average to 14 km / h during the last 45 km to Horsens, I would just be able to reach the train towards Odense at. 8.11pm. It sounded realistic. Five minutes past five I left Snabe Igelsø. I looked forward to the relatively flat railway path, but first I had to make two steep climbs, first on gravel inside the forest, then up to Bryrup on asphalt. There is no railroad cycle track between Vrads and Bryrup because the train still runs on that stretch. So the cyclists have to sweat in the impressive wooded middle Jutland hills. Bryrup I just let lie, although this village contains lots of memories for me. Here I camped for two nights with my sons lin the ast summer, I still lived with them. We had cycled to Bryrup on the Bryrupbanien trail from Horsens and my then wife got there by car. Here and on the rest of the route to Silkeborg we planned our divorce, which we completed later that year. It put a strange shadow over it all. Of course. But not today. I am happily remarried and my sons are grown and doing well. And I had a goal now. And a "deadline", but the track still ascended remarkably towards Braedstrup, and I realized that it was stupid to let myself be a slave of time instead of enjoying the bike ride to the full. I like to ride "sporty" as I call it when I trod heavily into the pedals, but never "fast". I'm a slow cyclist. And also man. In the slowness lies contemplation and depth. Lovely. On the contrary, I don't like to be in a hurry. II always makes thoroughness and the good effort suffer. Why rush to the grave we are all heading for? It is not urgent. to get there I thought about that as I slowly rode up to Braedstrup. You highly built city, I thought. Surely Jerusalem is meant in this psalm, but no matter. In Braedstrup I wanted to refuel water, and looked for the church symbol on the map and its tower over the roofs of the town. But did not find it. But I found a Rema 1000 supermarket, so lI bought spring water there. Unfortunately, the cashier girl went down because of  a customer in the queue in front of me who tried to pay with his cell phone. And I thought that now I was challenged on my slow plan to Horsens. But I managed quite well.

Now I just had to cycle to Horsens at a steady pace and then cathc the first train to Odense. A bicycle reservation I also had to buy, because that's, annoyingly, compulsory in summer. DKK 30 to no avail, but the Danish state railways do also want to exist. The next morning I had to get up at 4.25am for a morning shift at work, but I refused to think about that now. Just roll down the track towards Oestbirk nicely downhill. Of course. There was also an attraction on the Bryrup disused railway track that I did not want to miss, namely The Re-found Bridge. With capital letters. Nothing less. At one point in the 60s, after the Horsens-Silkeborg railway line was closed down, the whole Gudenaa Valley had been covered by an earthen dam. The existing steel roof bridge was left untouched. But in 2014, an old photograph appeared of a steam locomotive train running over a high steel roof bridge, and, indeed, they succeded in finding the bridge inside the dam, dig it out, and also recreate the bike path across it. Magnificent! So when I got there I left the bike on the bridge and enjoyed the view of the wide, fast flowing river deep down and the quiet forest on both banks. And then walked down the slope to the stream and took a few pictures. The weather was also really nice. As I clamberend up the steep ramp, I could feel the miles and climbs in my thighs. And I knew that I had to add more energy in the form of muesli with milk in order to make it to Horsens. The food made me able to tread at a better pace. But in Oestbirk town they had installed some stupid booms cross the path, which I had to scroll through slowly. And in Lund, just 5 km before Horsens, the route suddenly showed away from the trail. In addition, there was a climb up a bad dirt road. But all this I managed fine, and before long I was again among cars and people inside Horsens. Through Bygholm park I easily found the railway station using my GPS route. And certainly, there was a fast train to Odense soon after. And I also bought a bike reservation. Along with a large can of beer to celebrate my accomplishment as soon as I rested my legs in the train carriage. At ten o'clock I was in Odense, well pleased with myself and my mini bike holiday in Central Jutland.