A Three-Country Day

After three days of travel across the continent, we made it to Trier, Germany, and set up camp in a lovely campsite on the banks of the Mosel River.

It was there that we learned that Grandpa Gifford had passed peacefully in Bend, Oregon. We sat in a circle in the dappled light next to our tents and cried and laughed and shared memories of Grandpa. We are incredibly thankful to Uncle Mark for being with Grandpa at the end and for dealing with a long list of logistics and decisions.

We weighed the possibilities, including rushing to Weisbaden to box the bikes and boarding a flight to Portland. But Grandpa loved both Germany and bicycles with all his heart. If I were to guess, I would say Germany was his favorite country, and cycling his favorite hobby, along with enjoying a glass of wine with Grandma Gifford. Dave has wonderful memories of exploring Trier with his dad.

And so, here we are still, thanks to Mark. 

Trier has a fabulous Roman bridge, which is the oldest bridge in Germany:

We spent today pedaling upstream on the Mosel into Luxembourg and one mile over the border into France, just so we can eat breakfast at a French bakery tomorrow morning. 

Crossing the bridge from Schengen, Luxembourg to Germany, and then south a couple miles to France:

Tomorrow we'll ride downstream, back to Trier (on the other side of the river, to avoid the Luxembourg Ironman Triathlon). Two whole days of riding for a French breakfast -- that's us.

In the meantime, this town, Sierck-les-Bains, has some cool features.

We will spend the next week cycling downstream along the Mosel and then upstream along the Rhine to Weisbaden. Then we fly home.

A large portion of our thoughts are at home already. We are giving each other lots and lots of hugs and taking things slowly. 

Grandpa and Dave at the coast:

Grandpa leaping off the dunes:

-- Liv