5 Cents To Spare - Chap 6 - Bicycling to the Swiss Border

Chapter 6

Bicycling to the Swiss Border

Visiting once again with cousin Ursual and family was very pleas­ant.  On Saturday, May 30, we started a canoe trip down the Rhein River from Freiburg to Mannheim.  We camped out two nights on the banks of the Rhein and arrived in Mannheim on June 1.  I shall never forget this experi­ence.  There were seven of us in our party: the Saals, the Meiers, the Parchalks, and myself.  We took a train to get to our starting point at Freiburg.  The canoes, dismantled and each packed in what looked very much like an oversized golf bag, were placed in the baggage car of the train.  It seemed to be common practice for such things as canoes and bicycles to be carried on trains and to be unloaded at the starting point of the excursion.  What amazed me was that the baggage was taken off the train at precisely the same destination as its owners.  This was done stop after stop quickly and apparent­ly with unerring accuracy.  This could never happen in America, I thought.

Alfred Kramm writing in his diary while the others prepare lunch on the banks of the Rhein River.  Jun 1, 1936.        (E6-4)

Arriving at Freiburg, we had no trouble at all in locating our four canoes.  I had never seen canoes such as these before, yet I was expected to assemble the one borrowed for my use.  Inside the bag was an amazing number of parts and pieces to be fitted together like a jig-saw puzzle inside of a rubberized skin.  My companions assembled their canoes in jig time while I was standing there looking at the mess thoroughly bewildered.  Thank goodness they came to my rescue.

At one point in the trip I had a near miss with calamity.  There must have been a lock in the river as we all brought our canoes to the shore.  However, at the shore near where we landed, the water was running swiftly through a narrow channel.  I got caught in the channel.  As hard as I paddled, I was still being sucked into the current.  My companions were on the bank shouting directions, mostly in German, which I couldn't understand.  Perspiration was running down my forehead.  Gradually I worked the canoe to the bank where the current was not so swift; they grabbed it, and I was saved.

All the way down the Rhein, the French had built fortifications where they could observe any military activity on the German side and could watch all the ships going up and down the river.  This was part of their Maginot Line.  I was intrigued by this and wanted to get a good picture of a French lookout giving me the "once-over."  Soon my companions were shouting at me, "Get in the center or the French will come and arrest you!"  I did, but not before I got a few pictures.

At one point we hitched to a French freighter.  What a nice easy way to travel.

Alfred Kramm in his canoe on the Rhein River.  Jun 1, 1936.                      (E6-5)

June 3, 1936.  I left Mannheim on my trusty bicycle.  I traveled through Worms where I saw the Romanesque Cathedral, then on through Darmstat to Frankfurt.  I am convinced that bicycling is the only way to travel.  The big advantage was that there was no gas to run out of... and you generate your own "steam" on the hills.  I laugh when I think of me riding a bicycle but I laugh more when I think of all the things the poor bicycle must carry.  My equipment weighs as much as I do but the bicycle was new, had balloon tires, and as yet has never complained.  I'm sure I'll give out before it does.

It is customary to ride bicycles in Germany.  Everyone has one.  I even saw a 90 year old woman riding one.  Many of the streets have "radwegs" or "bicycle ways" for use only by bicycles.  It was more likely for a bicycle to run over you that an automobile.

The things bicycles will do are numerous.  I have seen 15 foot ladders carried on a bicycle - the ladder was strapped to the man and the man rides the bicycle.  Some bicycles have a small front wheel so that a huge box or basket may be carried in front, and thus are used to deliver bread, groceries, or what have you.  Others have trailers behind and when loaded look like freight trucks.  There are also some three wheeled bicycles so that large loads may be carried in the rear.  Peasants living in the villages use bicycles to go to the fields - and many a peasant boy or girl have I seen carrying a rake, or hoe, on a bicycle.  And, the other day I saw a man riding a bicycle loaded with half a dozen 10 foot lengths of 3/4 inch pipe!  Bicycles are as numerous here as autos are in America.

Frankfurt.  It was a town of great contrasts.  The new section was like most other towns... Renaissance, Barouche, and modern build­ings.  The old section was very interesting with its narrow crooked streets and jutting out colored and half timbered buildings.  I wanted to take some good pictures but the weather was so bad it was impossi­ble to try.  The museum had an interesting set of old drawings showing the growth of the town from the earliest times.

On June 5 I left Frankfurt quite thoroughly disgusted.  In the first place the little alarm clock I had purchased a few days before in Mannheim had succeeded in awaking me on only one morning.  After it had performed this stupendous duty it had completely refused to function.  I brought it to a jeweler near by.  He opened it up and endeavored to fix it but he knew darn well he did more damage than good for he did not charge me.  I noticed mourn­fully that after this repair it would neither run nor ring.  "Auch so!"

In the second place, it was raining.  It had rained off and on for the whole week so that picture taking in Frankfurt was an impossi­bility.  Then on my journey to Wurzburg I became more disgusted because I had lost my way in trying to leave Frankfurt.  It took me an hour to find it again and by that time I was wet and had cold feet, but was hot under the collar.

Between Frankfurt and Wurzburg, at the crossroads, a young fellow asked me the direction.  I knew he was not German because of his bad pronunciation.  I asked if he spoke English and he, in a relieved manner, said he was an Englishman.  It happened that we were both going to Wurzburg so we rode our bicycles side by side over the hilly country all the while the rain was pouring down.

The English fellow, his name was Whitehouse, told me that the previous day he had been traveling with a Norwegian acquaintance.  Unfortunately, the Norwegian had a collision with another bicycle and cut his foot badly.  It happened that one of Hitler's storm troopers, who was riding in an  automobile, saw the accident.  He stopped.  Seeing the trouble of the two foreign boys, both unable to speak German and one badly cut, he hailed a passing motorist, and had the Norwegian rushed to the hospital.  The trooper then accompanied Whitehouse to the hospital where the Norwegian was sent and made all the necessary explanations that were required to enter the hospital.  En route he told Whitehouse that during WWI he had been a prisoner badly wounded in an English camp and that the English had done everything to nurse him back to health.  He would never forget their kindness.  The trooper was more than anxious to be of further service should he be needed.

Whitehouse was a tool maker in England and was on a three week vacation.  He belonged to the Youth Hostels in England with privileges to live in the German Jugend Herberg.  Thus I accompa­nied him to the Jugend Herberg in Wurzburg and asked for a place to sleep.

We arrived late, wet and cold.  I was not denied the privilege to stay.  The German boys were more than kind to us.  They made hot coffee and offered bread, jam, butter and sausage from their own private supplies.  One, in particular, was exception­ally thought­ful. His name was Willi Knodler and came from Lahr-Dinglingen.  He was 24 years old, an electrician by trade, and able to speak a little English.

I have yet to find a German who has been rude or discourteous with me.  All have gone out of their way to help.  In the morning they shake hands with you and ask if you have slept well.  They endeavor to speak with you in English if you cannot speak German.  They will take great pains to help the foreigner out of difficulties.

The Nazi party is doing a great deal in augmenting the feeling of understanding among the young people.  It created the Jugend Herberg.  These are houses located in almost every large city, one every 40 miles or so, where the young people may stay over night.  The houses are equipped with beds, dining room, baths, kitchen and all else.  The cost per night ranges from 25 to 50 pfennig (10 to 20 cents) depending on the age and classification of the person.  Boys and girls, on their vacations, may travel from city to city by bicycle, foot, automobile, or canoe at practically no cost.  In this way the youth of the North mingles with the youth of the South and a feeling of understanding is consummated.

One finds fewer cliques here in Germany than in America.  In the evening at the Jugend Herberg, the boys and girls sit around in the room singing, harmonizing, and playing their instruments.  It is beautiful, this cooperation.  When a group of Germans is together, no matter what age they may be, they must sing to be happy.

June 6, 1936.  It was still raining but the three of us (Whitehouse Knodler, and myself) went into town and visited every church in the business section.  We saw about 10 churches but I understand that Wurzburg has some 70 churches.

We must have looked like a strange trio.  The English boy was dressed in the usual bicycle outfit (shorts above the knee with bare legs), the German boy had on a rather nice looking outfit more on the military style with closely fitted trousers and socks, and I wore knickers.  And, thus, we paraded about town in the rain speaking English, American, and German.  But, we had a very interesting time together.  In the afternoon, Whitehouse had to leave us as he was planning to go on to Nurnburg that day.  I would have gone on too but I did not like the rain and hadn't gotten the opportuni­ty to really study Wurzberg.

Washing cloths on the banks of the Main River.  Wurzbur, Germany.  Jun 8, 1936.  (E6-42)

Sunday morning Knodler left me to go to Frankfurt as it was nearing the end of his vacation.  I was surely sorry to see him leave.  He was such a capital fellow and such a fine comrade.  With nothing in particular to do I decided to visit more churches, attending various different Lutheran and Catholic services.  St. Augustina Church was crowded with people and it was necessary for me to stand for the whole service.  The time passed quickly... there was so much pageantry to watch; and the organ, it must have been the best in Wurzberg!

Later in the day I visited the Palace, then a museum.  In the evening, as I was leaving to see some proceedings in the "Dom," I met Herbert Goldberg, another very fine German boy from Hamburg.  He spoke English quite well and told me I was the first person with whom he had ever spoken English outside of the classroom.  I told him I had heard that something interesting was to be at the "Dom" tonight so together we went in spite of his informal knee britches and bare legs.

Old ladies at the South gate to Rothenburg.  I waited here for 15 minutes with camera ready.  At the critical moment when two of them were on the scene, click, the picture, and one of them knew it.  Jun 13, 1936.                                                     (E7-4)

The "Dom" was an interesting building, perhaps the largest church in Wurzburg.  It was admirably located at the end of the main street in town and is viewed from the main bridge.  We entered the church.  It was thronged with people - never have I seen a church quite so full of people.  No one was sitting... there was so little room that all must stand.  The occasion, I ascertained, was an address by the archbishop of the St. Augustina Church.  There was a gentleman in the pulpit dressed with a red cap and a red coat speaking to the people.  He looked for all the world like "Santa Claus" and I would have mis­taken him for such had I not know differently.

My friend and I crowded as close as we could to the speaker.  I could not comprehend what he was saying other then it was about the Catholic young.  Afterwards my friend told me it was a most interesting and daring speech.  The Archbishop was making a distinction between Hitler and Catholicism.  Hitler demands that the youth of the land must first serve the state and be educated by the state, then they may be governed by the parents and lastly by the church.  Catholicism, on the other hand, deems that the duty of the youth as well as every other person is to serve God and the church first, then the parents, and lastly the state.  The Arch­bishop furthermore said that if this will not be permitted then the church must bow to the superior force of the state.  It will take up the cross and bear patiently until the church may again reassume the position of power and dominance.

What the effect on government policies this speech will be is hard to say.  It is certain that the Catholic party is not with the government policies as they are now.  It seems likely that the government will tighten rather than loosen its grip inasmuch as the overwhelming majority is with the Nazi Party.

The next day, Monday, June 8, the sun shone a little so my friend and I took some picture.  In the afternoon we parted as he wished to see some gardens near Wurzburg and I was not interested.  I tried to secure a card to permit me to use the Jugend Herberg in Germany.  This required my going to the university house where I found it necessary to write the headquarters of the Jugend Herberg in Berlin for such a card.  Here again there was someone who came to my aid.  His name was Josef Spitznagel of Kirchheim, a graduate of the Law School in Wurzburg.  He spoke English very well and volunteered to write and type this letter for me.  I asked that the card be sent to the Jugend Herberg in Rothenburg.  Then we talked of many things, especially about America, where he hoped to visit the next year.

The opinion that Germans have of America is curious.  They consider that all Americans are immensely rich and base that opinion mainly on the fact that America is the largest money lending country in the world and that most Americans visiting Germany have money.

I left Wurzburg that evening to stop at the romantic old town of Diddlebach where I camped overnight on the banks of the Main River.  Here I was able to take several pictures before traveling on through the towns of Bamberg and Forchheim to Nurnberg.

June 13, 1936.  It is now 2:00 PM and I am sitting is a pleasant garden in Rothenburg sipping a nice cold pint of German beer.

The walk and stairs of the old fortress of Rothenburg.  To get this picture I had to climb an old wooden gate and tore my pants doing it.  Jun 13, 1936.         (E7-6)

Ordering my dinner today was much easier than when I first arrived in Germany.  Not having studied or spoken German I had not the slightest idea as to vocabulary, grammar, or spelling.  For the first three days all I ate was "Kartoffel und salat" (potatoes and lettuce salad) because that was practically the extent of my vocabulary.   Almost immediately I bought a small dictionary and a grammar book.  I have reached the 4th lesson in the grammar book and I am too lazy to go further.  The dictionary, of course, is indispens­able.  I now have a vocabulary which is large enough so I can eat and sleep and find my way about. 

Now I am able to order almost all the foods.  When I order from a menu, especially a written one, I usually cannot make heads or tails of it.  The words are disguised by being in combination with other words and the waiter standing right behind makes me nervous.  Usually I look at the prices and choose something at random which is not too high.  Then I wait eagerly for the surprise to come.  One night I got something all done up in bread crumbs and about the size of a medium potato.  Gingerly I broke open the outside cover, smelled and tasted it.  It tasted fine but I'm not sure yet what it was.  Someday I fear I shall be eating snails or perhaps frog legs and not know it. 

On the 14th of June the sky was cloudless and very hot.  In the afternoon at 3:00 PM, suddenly it became cloudy and it thunder stormed for 3 or 4 hours.  Then it rained off and on all night.  I prefer the California sunshine, especially when traveling by bicycle and camping out part of the time.  They tell me it is unusually wet for this season of the year.  At any rate it is supposed to rain two days a week.  There is no need for irrigation in this country.  God is the irrigator.  The fields are always fresh, green and covered with wild flowers of every hue.  It is really beautiful.  But you must have your raincoat or umbrella, any dark cloud might give forth with water even when the rest of the sky is blue!

I am camping out now.  For 50 Marks ($21) I purchased complete camping equipment, a tent and sleeping bag.  In the morning I make my own breakfast consisting chiefly of bread.  At noon, I purchase a good hot dinner for around 1.5 Marks.  In the evening I prepare my own supper of bread and fish.  When I am tired of riding, I can make camp in about 30 minutes.  I can wash as well from my canteen as I could from an inn washbowl.  When I need a complete bath I can swim in a river. 

When my cloths are dirty I bring them down to the river, as the women in Wurzburg still do, and wash them.  The other day I tore my only trousers climbing a gate to get a picture.  So, I had to become a tailor and mend them with darning cotton which I always carry.  A few mornings ago I ran out of water. 

Washday.  My camp among haystacks in the field near Dinkelsbuhl, Germany.  Jun 16, 1936.                                        (E7-15)

There was none in the vicinity, and I had to shave.  Fortunately it had rained the night before so I shaved with a few drops that had collected in my dish.   Oh, I am quit independent!

After seeing the sights and picking up my Jugend Herberg card, I left Rothenburg on June 15 and traveled through Dinkelsbuhl and Ulum.   The towns I enjoyed the most were Nurnberg, Rothenburg and Dinkelsbuhl.  These towns are all very old and were founded around the year 1000 or earlier.  All have high walls around the inner town with towers and lookouts.  Many still have old moats and some of these moats are filled with rain water.  Most of the moats have been turned into beautiful parks and sunken gardens.  The old houses within the crumbling walls are interest­ing with their half timber construction, wild variety of color, and narrow cobble stoned streets running between.

Ulm, too, is a very old city.  Being situated on the "blue" (looked more brown to me) Danube, it once enjoyed the position as principal trading center between Western Europe and Asia via the Danube River.  However, there was not a great deal of the old city left.  Ulm was now a more or less modern city.  Its outstanding feature was the Munster Church.  The tower had the distinction of being the highest church tower in the world... 568 feet.  There are some 768 steps.  Since it was the highest in the world I decided to climb it.  There was no elevator, but in due course I arrived a the top.  The view was magnificent.

When I was a short distance from Ulm I decided that the load on my bicycle was too great and that I must send all the unnecessary things back to Berlin to Uncle Erich.  I discarded 4 ½ Kilograms.  Included in this was the heavy copper case for my camera lenses which I spent so much time making in America.  Now I had left 2 sets of light underwear, 2 dark shirts, 1 necktie, 4 handker­chiefs, 1 towel, 1 light raincoat, a plaid sweater, 2 pairs of heavy socks, 1 pair of kickers, a very splendid travelers kit of brushes, a flashlight, small alarm clock, several rolls of film, writing paper, shoe polish, needles and thread, a water flask, a haversack, a sleeping bag and a small tent.  I also had a brief case in which to carry maps and a note book.  Even this was too much for a bicycle.

On June 20 at Donauchingen, I met a German boy of my own age whom I had met previously at Wurzburg.  It was really immensely coincidental.  He was spending his vacation touring Germany on a bicycle from Jugend Herberg to Jungen Herberg.  His name was Herbert Goldberg.  He spoke fairly good English, so I enjoyed his company.  It happened that we were both going to Titisee so we went together.  He stopped there at the Jugend Herberg but I went on as soon as the threatening thunder storm had passed over.

From Titisee I rode down hill for 20 miles to Freiburg through Germany's most scenic country.  A ribbon of fine highway dashed down the valley following a precipitous stream; steep rocky hillsides on either side were clad in a thick black forest; vistas of the valley below opened out at almost every turn... such was the ride to Freiburg.  I cannot say much of Freiburg as I was not there long.  I decided to go to Tadtnau, a distance of 20 miles.  Ten miles of this distance was uphill, a rise from 134 feet to 365 feet.  It was a hard pull and I was forced to walk 7 miles pushing the bicycle.  But, then it was all downhill.

A stork finds it’s home perched on top of a chimney.  Donauechingen, Germany.  Jun 20, 1936.                                        (E7-32)

Typical road signes in the Black Forest.  Near Todtnau, Germany. Jun 21. 1936.                                                          (E7-40)