Germany: Black Forest

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Germany: Black Forest

Germany: Black Forest
Spring blooms red

When a Ducati 916 wakes up from its wintry garage sheep and starts thundering on its first exit, spring in the Black Forest takes on a very special color.

Ralf Schneider

05/13/2002

It is a privilege as a test editor to be able to ride practically any motorcycle, no question about it. And a great pleasure. I still get goose bumps before I get on a new machine; Before a presentation, I’m as nervous as the very youngest colleague who’s just about to experience its premiere, but the most beautiful thing I find is my own motorcycle. Maybe because the normal becomes special when the special is normal. I dont know. I only know that the expectation slowly tingles up in me when I see the Ducati 916 Let it warm up for the preseason oil change. Several scratches in the paint, the scars of a rushing slide through the gravel bed or the bald spot on the exhaust greet you like old friends. Maybe I should take the fairing to the painter after all, and finally drill the hole for a nut in the subsequently welded sheet metal strip on the exhaust. So that I can mount the cover and protect my right heel from the heat. I can leave it, but as always I’m concerned about the metal shavings that are hanging in the coarse filter of the oil circuit. Although Ducati specialists have told me that this is normal. And I would say the same thing on the phone to any alarmed reader, coolly. Only, this is my Duc, this is where such inwardness becomes important. Of course, I also know the official part, the story of the extreme sportiness, the sluggish handling and the suspension elements that can only be set between fairly tight and extremely tight. In my private life, I have long since arrived with my 916 beyond the test reports. I can’t say exactly where that is. In any case, spring is blooming red there, and I can look forward to the first trip like someone who couldn’t ride a motorcycle all winter. For much longer than I’ve owned the Ducati, I swing around the northern Black Forest with devotion. Uphill, downhill from the Wurm valley to the Nagold valley, from there on to the Enz valley, Murg valley and finally to the Rhine valley. Sometimes I allow myself to drive a route twice and sometimes I let myself be guided. From my school friend Andy, who discovered particularly charming passages with me decades ago and has since developed his own routes, to join them. Of course there are even nicer areas, less densely populated, where the way from village to village is longer. And of course I really enjoy riding the Duc on the racetrack. But my affection for the northern Black Forest is deep and has grown over the years. I know a lot of things about many places that have nothing to do with motorcycling. Many places tell me about my own experiences. Only sometimes it shocks me how far back they go – not today. The Ducati dives into the tightening curve, which I once managed to lurch on two tires and an exhaust with the Zundapp KS 175, with the sovereignty of a motorcycle that doesn’t have to talk about ground clearance. The green valley floodplains are the background for the Ducati red, the long windings of the Wurmtal are just right for the lush 916. Even where the asphalt strip bends more tightly, it no longer drives as stubbornly as it does in series. She has lost weight where it is most beneficial: at the top at the back. Aluminum rear frame and carbon silencer? no, not the ones with the ECE certification mark? have saved several kilograms and made the Duc quieter. The three days of work that I needed to accommodate the Biposto injection computer in the PLC subframe, including adapting the wiring harness, were instructive. Fortunately, colleague Werner “Mini” Koch helped me with self-made threaded bushes. On the asphalt wave pool between Schellbronn and Unterreichenbach, it is painful to notice that I am still using the damper setting, which is good for a hot August day on the Nurburgring GP circuit fit. Standing more in the pauses than sitting, with full use of the body suspension, I bump into the valley. I don’t have a look for the gruesome treeless steep slopes next to the road, swept bare by Hurricane Lothar. Because I’ve exiled the set-up pedant in me for today, I’ll leave the fork and strut as it is. Let them buck. A few dozen kilometers later, I don’t think that’s a good idea anymore. I can feel in my bones that the communities hardly have any money left for road construction. My beloved back streets are slowly degenerating into scarred cart paths. Shortly before Loffenau, I almost fall into a deep pothole that must have broken out over the winter. The correction wouldn’t have helped, but I still borrow a screwdriver at a gas station in Gernsbach. A lot of compression and rebound damping has to be removed before the fillet of the tour begins. How nice that spring is already triumphant here. The proximity to the climatically gifted Rhine Valley works up to higher altitudes. The forsythia bloom yellow, the vegetation is drifting with power and the red 916 is no less in the approach to Eberstein Castle. Whole bunches of tire tracks show that not only motorcyclists indulge in unrestrained cornering pleasure here. The bend in front of the castle, which is so narrow that you would like to lift the motorcycle around the back, is the reason to stop at this vantage point. Below left the Murgtal, right next to me the Duc, in front of me a green avenue ?? so it can be endured for a dreamily extended cigarette break. As I continue my journey, no prospect can stop me. In the heavy curve frenzy, narrowing the view of the road and its periphery, the Duc and I screw our way over the high plateau towards Baden-Baden, before turning left to the Rote Lache. For motorcyclists, the martial name should be a warning. This road, embedded in the side of a high valley, has many curves that draw together behind a rock. There are tons of patches and some motorists who are grossly imprecise when they stay on their narrow side of the road. But for those who know the route, who drive relaxed, this patch of earth renews an important insight: Because of such roads, the dynamism they demand from us, we ride motorcycles. This is where the music plays, playing in one uninterrupted movement all the way to Forbach, through the Murgtal and past the Schwarzenbach dam up to the Black Forest Hochstrabe. She could go on playing longer. I could chug along the B 500 to the Ruhestein, looking into France from the bare slopes. Then light a red spring fire in the pleasantly dark forest on the Steige past the Allerheiligen monastery. Via refuge back on the B 500 and down the knee again. Or right over the Kniebis, back through the Murgtal and back home via Reichental, Sprollenhaus and Wildbad? Just drive me around in a curvy way? Then I have a better idea. Because you shouldn’t exaggerate on the first exit, I turn onto the B 500 in the direction of Baden-Baden. There my red blooming spring purple crocus swab and I get the curve to Friedrichsbad in a beautiful urban landscape around the posh health resort. This venerable bath, built in 1877, stands on the ruins of a Roman thermal bath, where visitors can go through the ancient Roman bath cycle. Warm air bath, caldarium, frigi- and tepidarium, the whole sequence. Slowly dive into relaxation nirvana in wonderfully old-fashioned halls, in marble basins and under a dome supported by caryatids. Particularly practical for motorcyclists: You don’t have to bring anything but time, money and yourself. When the gentleman who rubbed me away the consequences of the Ducati sitting posture leads me to the relaxation room after two hours of bathing pleasure, wrapping me in woolen blankets on a lounger, I am finally out of this world. Am I going home today? Not really. Tomorrow is still another day, there are enough hotels here, and my red herald of spring could well spend a night under the lantern.

Info

The northern Black Forest is bordered by three motorways. How convenient. Much more important, however, are the roads in between. With their lavish abundance of curves.

The route begins with the Mahdental, part of the Solitude race track. Those who tear themselves away from the motorcycle meeting point on Glemseck can get to the Wurmtal on the B 295 or, better still, via small side streets near Weil der Stadt or Merklingen. Via Steinegg, Hamberg and Schellbronn the transition to the Nagoldtal is successful. Kapfenhard and Langenbrand are the stops on the way to the Enz Valley, and the Murg Valley is reached via Bad Herrenalb and Gernsbach. This is the starting point for numerous routes that lead via attractive detours to Baden-Baden. Worth seeingMy subjective selection contains the fortified church of Merklingen. For those interested in art, a detour from the Wurmtal to Tiefenbronn is worthwhile. The beautiful Magdalene Altar by Lukas Moser can be seen in the basilica. Eberstein Castle is very attractive above Gernsbach. A short rest at the Schwarzenbach dam is hardly less idyllic. Baden-Baden is a single attraction. The Friedrichsbad no longer needs to be recommended, so here is more information: The entrance fee with massage is 29 euros, without 21 euros. The pool is open Monday to Saturday from 9 a.m. to 9 p.m., Sundays and public holidays from 12 a.m. to 8 p.m. Accommodation There are plenty of pensions and hotels in the Baden-Baden area. Even those who stagger completely relaxed from the Friedrichsbad will find a wide selection of accommodations nearby. A stay can be planned in advance with the help of the Tourist Information Baden Baden, phone 07221 / 275200. Maps / Literature The Marco Polo General Map Germany on a scale of 1: 200000, sheet no Drives without a card for decades. Further tours in the Black Forest are presented in “Motorbike tours through the Black Forest”. Available from Tourismus Service GmbH, Yorckstrabe 23, 79110 Freiburg.

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