clairedavieswriter

Day 3: Thusis to Disentis, 69.5k, 1153m climbed

22/7/2025

According to my itinerary, today (Monday) and Wednesday were rest days. But I think you’ll agree that even the best laid plans should flex when your national team reaches the semis of a major tournament. So I brought forward ride day 3 to allow us to drive across the country for the match, and back the next day. Are you still awake at the back?
Team Bernard had quite a day of it. Our route took us north down the Hinterrhein, before turning west and climbing up the Vorderhein. River valleys – ergo flat? I hear you say.

Hold my stein, chorused the tributaries of the Rhine.

The first bit was easy enough:

Then it got a bit rustic:

And then it was barely a cycle track at all:

It’s hard to see in the photo, but to the right of this narrow stony ledge was a precipitous drop to the roiling river. It was just as well I have a head for heights, and I certainly needed no second invitation to negotiate it on foot:

The middle part of the ride was the absolute highlight of my day, starting with this spectacular view of the Vorderrhein from a balcony of a road:

That clung to the edge of the gorge and snaked gloriously downhill, avoiding prominent geological features:

Obviously the downhills couldn’t last, and no day riding in Switzerland is complete without a set of steep hairpins, but just look at what awaited us when we reached the top. First this, in the pretty village of Versam:

Then this view down to Carrera:

And this lovely combination of fountain, guesthouse and church tower, in Valendas:

The final third of the day was another kettle of fish altogether. By this stage, we were following Swiss cycle route 2, aka EuroVelo 15. Sounds pukka I thought.

It certainly started pretty well, with all that high alpine loveliness. And when it took us off-road, the surface seemed ok to begin with:

So I was quite content as I ate the last of my picnic:

But then things started going downhill, and not in a good way: that track was barely six inches wide in places.

This section afforded cyclists an excellent view of the firing range (to the left of the tree). Switzerland has a lot of them. Though this one seemed safer than one I cycled *through* later on: both the firing point and the targets were higher than the road, so as far as I could tell, the bullets would have missed me if they’d been on target – if you see what I mean:

By this stage it was early evening (I’d started late to avoid morning rain), and while I still had energy to enjoy the views:

I was ready to stop. So this was not a welcome sight:

But it was late, I’d already detoured once, up a massive hill, and let’s face it, no cyclist thinks ‘Road Closed’ signs apply to them. I pedalled on. But of course they meant it: yes, that’s fast flowing water about a metre below where the bridge should be.

I’ve spoken about guardian angels before, and how, so often, they’ve appeared just when I needed them. This one appeared in the form of a skinny blond teenager on a mountain bike, accompanied by a silent friend wearing headphones.
Oh, says the blond, peering at the yawning gap in the road.
At the same time, we both spot a rough gravelly slope on the right, leading down to the water. We exchange looks.
Me: Do you think you can get across?
He grins, shrugs, and says something that I interpret as,‘Sure I can.’
He climbs on his bike and without a second thought tips over the edge, splashes through the water and out the other side. He calls to his friend, who follows suit.
Now they’re both on the other side and I’m terrified they’re just going to ride off and leave me facing a very long detour to get to my destination. But my young blond friend has better manners. He says something that sounds like ‘Do you want help?’ and I agree furiously. We then have a conversation in two different languages:
Me: I can’t cycle down like you did
Boy: Yes you can
Me (starting to slide down on foot, clutching Bernard): No I can’t
I reach the waters edge.
Me (pushing Bernard over): Have you got him?
Boy: Yes!
Now my bike and the two boys are on the other side. The water looks fast, and brown, and wet. Though thankfully not all that deep. But I assume I’m going to get my feet wet, until:
Boy (grabbing a large rock and throwing it midway across the stream): Use the stone
I do as he says and miraculously I’m across. I haven’t even got my feet wet.
Thank you Rinus, your mum would be proud of you.
That wasn’t the end of my travails today but I’ll spare you the details and show you the contenders for sign of the day instead. First this, on the side of a barn:

This brilliantly named cafe was the front runner for a long time:

But ultimately it was pipped by this sign, which spoke more directly to my state of body and spirit at the end of a long hard day. I think it reads:
“Running out of puff?
We can top you up”
(And in small letters in the bike frame: ‘Drink beer, ride bike’
Makes sense to me.

See you on Thursday. Come on you Lionesses!