Digital Wanderer

Biking around Lake Zug

Clearly, their moms didn't teach them in childhood that just spinning it is enough: the fluid's inertia will make a raw one spin slowly. On the other hand, when eggs are colorful, life is more fun. I think that among metrosexual hipsters it'll soon become trendy not only to shave, but also to dye, powder, and draw eyebrows on their balls.

As for Lake Zug, I got there quickly, but for some reason turned counterclockwise. I didn't want to think too hard about where and how to ride. That was a blunder. It turned out that for a good chunk of the route, the bike path is very narrow. Moreover, it runs as part of the mountain road, but on the left edge, and is separated only by markings. Meaning I was riding against the grain (or on the road on the right). The locals, of course, are in the know and ride around the lake clockwise. Things like this are hard to predict in advance. A friend told me (he rides this route often), but I didn't get that it was crucial info.

I wasn't in a hurry, since the ride was only 40km. I dropped into all sorts of places if they seemed interesting. As a result, on one of the gravel paths, there were a lot of pedestrians with dogs. The first ones I met, young girls, held back their hounds so I could pass. But the next ones, some old ladies, grumbled very unhappily in German. They signaled that I didn't belong there and should bugger off to the bike path that was visible nearby. I nodded that I understood. And still, as I passed them, I heard an unflattering "idiot". Apparently, the word is international. In my defense, I'll say that I definitely didn't see a sign saying the path was only for dog walking. I was specifically looking carefully, not wanting to get hit with a fine or yelled at, but screwed up anyway.

So I returned to my native bike path, full of retirees on e-bikes. It's cool, what can you say — health doesn't allow everyone to bomb over the hills on a regular bike at 70, but here you go.

The lake was sometimes visible, sometimes not, railway tracks ran nearby, and alongside there were many houses with signs "private property, no trespassing or passing". They don't make me happy. It's a bummer when a country is privatized to the point where you can't even approach the lake. Why do natural resources belong to those who staked a claim first, or those with dough pouring out of their ears? It's stupid and unfair.

Temptations and violations

As I was climbing the biggest hill on the way, the magnificent panorama of the lake beckoned me. It was warm, and I wanted to take a dip, especially since I'd finally brought my swim trunks along. Unfortunately, on the path to the shore stood a "no trespassing or passing" sign, and I rode on. At the top of the hill, some roadwork was going on, and it wasn't entirely clear where to go, but a female worker said something brief in German and pointed to the left lane. The right one was under repair. The first letters of the first word were something like "Aus", and the second was "Radfahrer", meaning "cyclist". But I don't know German, I studied French in school, and barely even that.

I rode about five hundred meters on a perfectly even road, as smooth as glass. However, the road before and after the repair was just as even. At the end of the section stood another worker, who, having let me pass, allowed an oncoming car to go through. Only at home did we guess that the worker had been saying into her walkie-talkie: "let the cyclist through", so I could ride in the oncoming lane without danger. Here's an example of the upside of a country with perfect order. Everything is so precise that a biker is allowed to ride through alone, and cars wait, just so there's no incident. On the other hand, the speed on such a section under repair is low anyway, and visibility is good. But rules are rules, and respect for vulnerable road users is top-notch.

Having passed the roadwork, I couldn't resist the temptation and turned onto the sidewalk towards the lake, right under a "no cyclists" sign. I didn't turn immediately, but only when I made sure there was absolutely no one on the path, not even on the horizon. Here I need to clarify that in Switzerland, aside from the famous cantons, the gemeinde (literally community, commune) rules the roost. It is a lower-level municipality, and it holds very broad powers. If the residents vote that they don't want cyclists somewhere, then that's how it'll be. And the residents vote often, because it directly concerns their local affairs; on top of that, it's a civic duty. Friends told me later that I could have been slapped with a hundred-franc fine, and that the police periodically stand guard. But I had a hunch about that and was on high alert: if it seemed like I saw people, I hopped off the bike. Thus I reached another sign by a forest path through a grove. There I finally got off my alco-bike and trudged on foot.

A beach with a broom, and asphalt as smooth as glass

Just a couple of minutes of walking along the forest path, and I ended up on a beach. There wasn't a single soul there (a weekday, after all), but there were a small dustpan and a broom for cleaning out the fire pit! I don't recall seeing anything like that before. Back home in Latgale, those items would have been swiped sooner or later.

The water turned out to be surprisingly warm, considering the depth (200m) and size (38 km2) of the lake. Especially since it's supposed to be autumn outside. The Swiss got lucky with their climate, what can you say. I took a dip, stood around to dry off a bit (real hussars don't need towels), and rolled on. I returned from the woods onto an asphalt path going through a settlement. Where it ended and turned into a steep dirt climb, a girl was training a small horse in a round arena. Nearby stood her car with an enclosed horse trailer. How the car got there is a mystery — on one side there's a pedestrian path, on the other, motorized transport is banned, and the climb is too steep. Apparently, if you're a local, you can get a special permit to bypass such rules.

I hiked up the hill on the dirt road through the forest, and once again found wonderful asphalt there. It's like that everywhere here! Fortunately, there it was perfectly legal to saddle my iron horse and bomb on, which is what I did. I rode through the forest a bit, but soon hit the lake shore again, where civilization began: a parking lot near a pub. The prices for a combo meal (30+ francs) didn't thrill me, and I didn't stick around. Soon I turned onto the main highway around the lake. The road had only a tiny strip allocated for cyclists. This was stressful: lots of cars, frequent oncoming riders, and it was like that almost all the way to Zug, half the trip. The only saving grace were the views of the other side of the lake.

As for the cyclists, there were almost none on alco-bikes. Usually, I came across athletes on Cervélos. This is weird, because the brand is Canadian, and I don't know why it's so popular in Switzerland. No matter how long the string winds, it comes to an end sooner or later. I made it home without incident, though I got lazy about taking my pill on time and suffered a lot.

Never has this happened before, and here it is again!

P.S. A huge thanks to my friend for the alco-bike, and to his wife for the dinners and conversation!

Dinner with guests, elections, and a hiking plan

When the pill kicked in, I felt better, and my mood became combative again. In the evening we had guests at home, the very same guys I came to Switzerland with. At dinner, the conversation was lively, so much so that I quickly got dragged into arguments. Mostly just to construct and listen to arguments, rather than to win the debate, although there was a bit of that too. Actually, most of the topics aren't all that vital, but some people just love to argue, what can you do.

I can't reveal the details of the discussion. I'll just say that parallel to our travels, a drama was unfolding on our trip in which many participants suffered. Everyone had an opinion, although few knew the facts. I changed my mind when new facts were revealed, as a Bayesian should. Basically, everyone changed their minds, the facts just altered the picture of what was happening too much. Which once again tells us how right it is not to judge hastily, but to figure things out properly first. If only it were possible to apply this thought to the elections currently happening in Latvia. Because I still haven't figured out who to vote for. The LSM questionnaire, which shows your compatibility with the parties, points me towards Development/For!. I am, in principle, for progress and development, so it's quite logical. I was just about to vote for the Progressives. However, the guys here told me that the Progressives are way too progressive. They protect nature so much that they'd ban digging in the forest to build cyclocross jumps. In the end, I changed my mind.

I forgot to mention, by the way, that already in Zug I saw a cyclist who had been hit by a car. The front wheel was bent at 90 degrees, he himself was scratched and bruised, but looked to be holding up well. In Switzerland, drivers usually let pedestrians and cyclists pass, but, apparently, black swans do happen.

The next day was Friday. Here I'd already hatched a new grandiose plan. The thing is, on Saturday we had to go to the famous Lauterbrunnen, come hell or high water. And once again I didn't want to get up at six to make it in time. Therefore, I persuaded the guys to go on a hike not too far from Lauterbrunnen, on Mount Brienz. The idea was to take the train down the other side of the ridge after the hike and spend the night near Saturday's starting point.

Did my comrades agree? Did it work out?