Another 90 kilometres knocked off the target - and with the prospect of some bad weather coming I'm feeling a little less optimistic. The temperature is set to drop from 22 to 13 overnight. Could be good to give my red arms a break from the sun. My left arm is definitely more tanned/burnt than my right due to forever cycling west.
After a late start and a failed bike shop, which didn't have any oil for my chain Kingisepp faded into the distance. A 20 kilometre run down to the border was rather hairy with trucks going past, but quick enough downhill. There turned out to be a road running parallel to it, which I'd recommend to anyone trying this route.
After chilling on the riverbank and popping into the last produkty - which in true Russian style had no useful products - the border guards ran a chilly eye over my passport before letting me through.
Almost immediately after the town square in Narva (Estonia) the hallowed land of the Eurovelo 1 started. Estonian routes 1 and 3 (to start with they are the same thing) leapt straight into a headwind and a deceptively long straight. Persistence and an aching back from leaning into the breeze were rewarded with a patch through a wood, which felt like an Estonian Centre Parcs with a bunch of holiday homes. Things were definitely getting more Western, despite everyone speaking Russian.
Even after 3 days lunch of sandwiches in whatever store I pass is already getting a bit boring, and without heavy cutlery there is little option but ham and cheese. The small things in life make a big difference, especially butter on sandwiches.
After the sporadic Eurovelo signs led onto a quiet highway it meandered off on a detour towards the town of Toila. While lorries definitely make you feel small and fragile, the cost of going off road is an extremely sore bum. The path back towards the coast took in some lovely countryside, but instead of either paving it or leaving it as mud they stick in a few rocks that just make things bumpier. And despite the increased safety the Eurovelo just rejoins the road it sought to avoid anyway.
The route is definitely still a work in progress. The brochure promises no hills steeper than 6 percent, and after a couple of these I decided that was about right. Then, I saw a sign saying the descent would be 12 percent. Sadly there was no time to feel sorry for those coming the other way as it went straight back up the other side with the same gradient. An elderly couple were also panting at the top and laughing. With 90 litre panniers a 12 percent climb is pretty hefty, but luckily it was relatively short.
Johvi was a 10km ride away and is a fairly nondescript town. The hostel was rubbish for 16 euros, but at least I had my own room.
No comments:
Post a Comment