Bikes, Blossom and Bratwurst

A pulse-raising ride through the colourful fruit-tree orchards of Upper Austria and a ride back in time to cycling’s golden age.

by Chris Cummins

The Kirschblüten Radklassik, which starts in the town of Eferding, is a new addition to the burgeoning number of vintage bike rides that have sprung up in Europe in recent years.

„It’s about riding your bike and about enjoying riding your bike“, says the ride’s organiser Johannes Staudinger, „but it is also about delving into the history of the sport and meeting like-minded people to discuss your passion. It is a sort of networking event.“

Celebrating Cycling Heritage

The trend for nostalgic riding took off 20 years ago with L’Eroica on the white gravel „stada bianchi“ roads of Tuscany. „We want people to rediscover the beauty of fatigue and the thrill of the conquest“, said its founder Giancarlo Brocci. The conservation of cultural heritage was a key aspect too. The ride was partly conceived to help save the crushed white gravel roads from being gradually replaced with asphalt.

The plan succeeded and the ride became a hugely popular event. Now thousands of riders take part, with distances ranging from 70 to 205 kilometres. Locals dole out lavish buffets for the riders and blood-red Chianti flows free at the pit stops. It’s a reminder that cycling is a celebration of freedom, adventure and companionship and not just about best times and aerodynamics.

Vintage & Vineyards

In 2013 the first vintage ride was held in Austria: June’s annual In Velo Veritas ride is an odyssey across the Weinviertel. Then, the Styroica became a fixture of Styria’s cycling calendar in 2014, and now, celebrating its 2nd year, we have the Kirschblüten Radklassik.

Woollen Jerseys and Peaked Caps

At Eferding, Austria’s third oldest town, around 120 riders are swigging a last minute coffee before tackling the winding course on narrow, crooked country roads through the undulating fruit orchards and national park land north of Linz.

Most are wearing short-peaked cycling hats and woollen jerseys. Their steel-framed bikes, lovingly maintained and glistening in the morning sunshine, are propped against the walls of the cafés.

„It’s a shame modern bikes don’t look this good“, says Rowena. She has a Union Jack knitted into her jersey, and has come all the way from the UK to take part; eschewing the comforts of carbon frames, click gears and breathable clothing for this dip into the past.

„It’s such a relaxed atmosphere“, she explains. „People want to have fun and show off their bikes. And the countryside is wonderful: these rolling hills. It’s just as impressive as the bikes.“

An Explosion of Colours

She’s right. The landscape is stunning, the pink cherry blossom that gives this spring ride its name is in full bloom as is the white blossom on the apple trees that line the narrow, crooked lanes that meander through high plateaus.

It’s a clear day but the cold wind is blowing, sweeping the countryside free and offering panoramic views over green fields to the glistening snowy mountains further south.

If you’re wondering why I’m still in Austria after all these years, this glorious landscape goes a long way towards answering the question.

Companionship

The other thing that has kept me here is this country’s generous supply of gentle souled eccentrics who seem particularly attracted to cycling culture. I have been adopted by a small crew of snappily dressed riders from Vienna - Andreas Scheiger, Ali Bechstein and Richie Hollinek, who stayed overnight in a freezing camper van following a night exploring the dubious charms of Eferding’s nightlife.

Given this difficult preparation, Andreas, who is wearing a blue and white jersey and bike cap, is in sprightly form as we negotiate the ramps and troughs of the Upper Austrian hills. „We’re here because we love riding and we love the bikes. We love fiddling about with them and experimenting with them and exchanging parts.“

No Rush

I’m a bit wobbly on my bike. The gear levers are trickily placed on the frame of the bike, so that each time I change gear I worry about putting my sausage-like fingers into the spokes. On the steeper hills the lowest gear jumps and I’m thrown out of my cage-pedals. My slap-stick attempts to fit my foot back while still tackling the slope are worthy of Charlie Chaplin.

But it doesn’t matter. We are not in a rush. We cruise along at about 21 kilometres per hour, making long rests at two pit-stops in the courtyards of wayside inns that serve, instead of energy gels and protein bars, Schweinsbratensemmel, chocolate cake and, for the fool hardy, Most with soda.

This is a day that is not about wattage or maximum speed but, as Andreas puts it, „a good day in the fresh air with your friends“. He loves dressing up, adoring the aesthetics of the glory days of cycling.

Bike Nerds?

Ali is riding a chic lilac-framed bike with patterned red and white handle bars and bespoke gears. He bought the frame ten years ago and has been tinkering with it ever since. He bristles, however, when I suggest he is a bike nerd. „No, there are people who are much more extreme than me. I’m proud to have bike nerds as my friends so that they can give me advice.“

We glide back into the Eferding, seven hours and one puncture after setting off. 100 kilometres is no epic ride and yet the setting and the clothes makes us feel like heroes. We receive a proper Austrian welcome, with beer, Bratwurst and Sauerkraut handed to us before we have even dismounted from our bikes.

Keep your energy gels and your skin-suits, I think I have found my cycling home.