Two Rivers, Four Days and Savanna

335 Kilometres on the Kocher-Jagst Cycle Route

There are sensible ways to spend four free days. You could sleep late, read a book, or sit somewhere comfortable and watch other people exercise.

I chose to cycle 335 kilometres.

More precisely, I chose the Kocher-Jagst Cycle Route, a great loop through Baden-Württemberg in southern Germany. From Aalen it follows the River Kocher through Schwäbisch Hall and Forchtenberg to the Neckar, before picking up the Jagst and following it upstream through Dörzbach, Crailsheim and Ellwangen back to Aalen.

The official itinerary rather sensibly suggests six stages.

I had four days.

With me were Savanna, my bike, some luggage and, inevitably, a camera.

The camera is about as useful for making rapid progress on a cycling tour as travelling with a dog that insists on stopping at every second tree.

But speed was never the point. I wanted to ride, look around, photograph and eventually arrive somewhere in the evening where there was approximately a bed and preferably something to eat.

So Savanna went on the train and we headed for Aalen.

Day 1 – A Gentle 110 Kilometres to Get Started

Aalen – Schwäbisch Hall – Forchtenberg

A cycling trip by train begins with a small logistical examination: trying to manoeuvre a heavy e-bike with luggage through doors apparently designed for considerably smaller forms of life.

Eventually Savanna was on board.

I sat nearby with a coffee, watching the countryside pass the window and enjoying the pleasant knowledge that, for the moment at least, somebody else was doing the kilometres.

That arrangement ended in Aalen.

Off the train, check the bags, put away the camera and start riding.

Before long, the Kocher took over navigation. The valley was initially broad and welcoming, the route straightforward. The river appeared between trees, disappeared again, then returned beside me as the path passed meadows, villages and small towns.

The first kilometres went quickly.

Then came the first good photograph.

That was the end of quickly.

Stop the bike. Take out the camera. Find a position. Take the photograph. Move five metres. Take another. Put the camera away. Start riding again.

Three hundred metres later, a half-timbered house was sitting in beautiful morning light.

Savanna learned before lunchtime that travelling with a photographer requires patience.

Letting the Kocher Set the Pace

The further I rode, the more I understood the appeal of this route.

There isn’t a major tourist attraction demanding your attention every five kilometres. Instead, you follow the water through a landscape that seems to reveal its best moments almost casually.

An old weir. Half-timbered houses beside the river. A small bridge. Reflections on the water. A village that looks as though somebody forgot to make it busier sometime during the last century.

I liked that.

After roughly 66 kilometres I reached Schwäbisch Hall.

According to the official itinerary, this would have been an excellent place to stop for the day.

My personal tour operator, unfortunately also me, had other ideas.

So I continued.

Beyond Schwäbisch Hall the Kocher Valley became narrower and more dramatic. The river began sweeping through larger bends and the forest moved closer to the path.

Then, eventually, I found myself beneath the Kochertal Bridge.

185 metres high.

A structure remarkably good at demonstrating just how insignificant a human being and his bicycle can look.

I took photographs.

Obviously.

Beyond the bridge, the landscape became quiet again. Vineyards appeared on the slopes, the light grew warmer and the number on the odometer slowly acquired three digits.

By the time I reached Forchtenberg, I had covered roughly 110 kilometres.

Enough for day one.

Savanna wanted electricity.

I wanted food.

We understood each other perfectly.

Day 2 – One River Leaves, Another Takes Over

Forchtenberg – Bad Friedrichshall – Dörzbach

Something strange happened on the second morning.

My legs had apparently worked out overnight what I was doing.

They weren’t impressed.

Savanna, on the other hand, stood there displaying no emotion whatsoever. One advantage of a relationship between human and machine is that at least one of you doesn’t complain in the morning.

So back onto the bike.

From Forchtenberg I continued along the Kocher. Vineyards, woodland and meadows now dominated the landscape. In places the river was so still that the trees were reflected almost perfectly in the water.

These are dangerous places.

Not because of traffic.

Because of the camera.

Brake. Stop. Photograph.

Again.

Neuenstadt am Kocher was also far too attractive to pass through efficiently. Half-timbered houses, water, small streets.

My average speed went down.

My photograph count went up.

I considered that a fair exchange.

The End of the Kocher

After just under 38 kilometres I reached Bad Friedrichshall.

Something important happens here: the Kocher flows into the Neckar.

The river had accompanied me since Aalen. Now it simply disappeared into a larger one.

It felt almost rude.

Fortunately, only a short distance away, the second river of the journey was already waiting.

The Jagst.

This marked the turning point of the trip. Until now I had been travelling downstream with the Kocher. From here I would follow the Jagst upstream, gradually making my way back towards Aalen.

“Back” was being used rather generously.

There were still well over a hundred kilometres to go.

Travelling with Götz

The Jagst Valley immediately felt different. Narrower, more winding, sometimes wilder.

And considerably more historical.

Jagsthausen, Möckmühl, castles, old walls, and one name that keeps appearing everywhere:

Götz von Berlichingen.

The knight with the iron hand seems almost impossible to escape around here. Goethe later made quite certain of that.

I continued eastwards beside the Jagst.

The afternoon light became better and better. Old stone bridges caught the sun, church towers appeared between the trees and the river glittered below them.

For a photographer, evening light is basically a compulsory break not covered by employment law.

So Savanna was parked again.

Camera out.

Photograph.

Continue.

Eventually I reached Dörzbach.

Another day of roughly a hundred kilometres.

Savanna found a socket.

I found dinner.

Day two complete.

Day 3 – Cows, Crypts and 540 Metres of Climbing

Dörzbach – Crailsheim

Day three is when a multi-day cycling trip enters an interesting phase.

You no longer pack your bags in the morning.

You perform a ritual.

Everything has its place. The movements become automatic. Even the body has stopped debating whether any of this is sensible.

Today was only about 57 kilometres.

“Only” is one of those words you should use carefully on a cycling trip.

There were also around 540 metres of climbing.

Shortly after leaving Dörzbach, the route entered the St. Wendel zum Stein nature reserve. The Jagst became wilder, with forest and rock closing in around the river.

Herons and storks appeared along the way.

In one meadow stood an entire herd of cattle.

They looked at me.

I looked at them.

The cattle seemed to reach the unanimous conclusion that I wasn’t particularly interesting.

I photographed them anyway.

Slower Is Better

I particularly enjoyed this third day.

Not because it was necessarily more spectacular than the first two, but because by now I had stopped thinking constantly about distance.

The world had become pleasantly small.

The next village.

The next hill.

The next coffee.

Battery level.

The next photograph.

That was enough.

The little pilgrimage chapel of St. Wendel zum Stein sits directly against a rock face. Later came Unterregenbach, with its crypt more than a thousand years old.

And between them, always the Jagst.

An old wooden bridge across the river became one of my favourite photographs of the entire journey.

No castle.

No famous monument.

Just wood, water, grass and light.

Sometimes that’s all you need.

Even an E-Bike Has to Negotiate with Gravity

Then came the climbs.

Savanna helped.

Considerably, and gratefully so.

But an important lesson remains: an e-bike does not abolish gravity. It merely negotiates better terms.

And 540 metres of climbing remain 540 metres of climbing.

During the afternoon the valley gradually opened again. The kilometres became easier and Crailsheim drew closer.

When I arrived, something suddenly became obvious.

Tomorrow it would be over.

And naturally, just as that happened, I had become accustomed to this way of living.

Wake up. Pack. Ride. Photograph. Eat. Sleep.

Human beings are surprisingly easy to satisfy once most of the unnecessary complications have been removed.

Day 4 – Just Ride Back to Aalen

Crailsheim – Ellwangen – Aalen

The final morning began with around 61 kilometres and 460 metres of climbing ahead.

After the previous three days, that sounded almost like a leisurely ride.

Thoughts like that should never be entertained before breakfast.

Beyond Crailsheim the Jagst Valley widened again. At first the route followed the water easily across flatter country.

The landscape had changed once more. Less dramatic than the previous day, more open and relaxed.

Then Ellwangen appeared.

Its towers and red roofs announced the town long before I reached it.

I could have simply ridden through.

In theory.

In practice, there was an attractive old town, the Basilica of St. Vitus and, crucially, cafés.

The decision made itself.

The Most Important Source of Energy

After several days on a bicycle, your relationship with food changes.

A slice of cake is no longer merely a slice of cake.

It is regenerative high-performance technology.

Coffee is no longer a drink.

It is infrastructure.

Properly refuelled, I continued.

About eight kilometres beyond Ellwangen, the Jagst is dammed to form the Bucher Reservoir.

A long wooden jetty stretches out over the water.

I parked Savanna and walked to the end.

The lake was almost perfectly still. Trees and sky reflected across its surface.

After days spent following the Kocher and Jagst, this was one of those moments when there was really no need to do anything.

So, for once, I did almost nothing.

Well, I took photographs.

There is no need to become unreasonable about inner peace.

The Final Kilometres

Beyond the reservoir, a few more climbs were waiting.

Naturally.

A 335-kilometre route isn’t going to let you leave with a polite handshake.

Savanna worked.

I pedalled.

Aalen came closer.

And then something happened that always seems strange near the end of a long ride.

Suddenly you want to arrive.

And at exactly the same time, you don’t.

Four days earlier, Aalen had been a starting point. Now the same place meant the end.

Eventually I rolled back into town.

335 kilometres.

The circle was complete.

And Suddenly the World Became Fast Again

At Aalen station, the final stage of the journey began.

Savanna had to go back onto a train.

After four days of riding together, I was therefore rewarded with another attempt to manoeuvre a heavy e-bike and luggage into a German bicycle compartment.

Romance comes in many forms.

Eventually the bike and bags were in place and I sat beside the window.

The train moved off.

And something strange happened.

For four days, distance had meant something again.

Twelve kilometres might have been half an hour of riding, a climb, two photography stops, a bridge and perhaps a coffee.

Now the same landscape rushed past the window.

Places that had taken hours to reach by bicycle were suddenly only minutes apart.

The world became fast again.

Almost disappointingly so.

What Remains After 335 Kilometres

I didn’t ride the Kocher-Jagst Cycle Route simply so I could say afterwards that I had completed 335 kilometres.

That would be a remarkably complicated way of producing a number.

What remains are other things.

Half-timbered houses beside the Kocher. Light on the water. The enormous Kochertal Bridge. Vineyards around Forchtenberg. The moment the Kocher disappears into the Neckar and the Jagst takes over. Castles above the valley. An old stone bridge in evening light. Storks, herons and some profoundly unimpressed cows. A chapel against a rock face. A wooden bridge somewhere along the Jagst. Ellwangen. The still water of the Bucher Reservoir.

And Savanna.

For four days she was transport, luggage carrier, climber and occasional photographic model.

The train took us to Aalen.

The train took us home again.

In between were two rivers, four days and 335 kilometres.

And a remarkable number of places where I was only going to stop for one quick photograph.