Danish Wind

So, the great American novel, Moby Dick, has a bit of a joke in the very beginning. Ishmael describes why he goes to sea.

“Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking people’s hats off—then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can.”

He goes on to explain why he thinks it better to be a seaman, than a commodore.

“Finally, I always go to sea as a sailor, because of the wholesome exercise and pure air of the fore-castle deck. For as in this world, head winds are far more prevalent than winds from astern (that is, if you never violate the Pythagorean maxim), so for the most part the Commodore on the quarter-deck gets his atmosphere at second hand from the sailors on the forecastle.”

Now, this is a wind joke. A fart joke. Ishmael likes being a sailor, on the fore-castle of the ship. The winds are fresh. And, he points out that the Commodore, gets all the bad wind from the front of the ship. A fart joke. Bad wind from the sailors at the front. BTW, the Pythagorean maxim is don’t eat beans because they cause flatulence.

And, then there is the Danish wind, a devilish wind indeed. A wind with a sense of humor. The Danish wind would understand the Moby Dick passage immediately. She appreciates a good joke. But, she doesn’t necessary damage with her tricks, she just taunts. For a visual, think of the recent commercial where a boy is holding a finger near a sibling/friend, saying, “I’m not touching you!” And teasing mercilessly. Of course that harassment is sophisticated, more like the tease that Mother Danish wind plays upon the land.

We spent some time on this trip on Møns, an island, and we struggled with the wind to get there. Once there, the winds turned westerly (from the west), and we wondered if we were pinned. We wondered if we could ever, ever ride out to the west, with the wind in the west. On our bus trip to the cliffs, Møns Klint, we found sanctuary at the bottom of 500 stairs, behind an entire island and massive cliffs. Moments without wind.

*****

We began the morning in our cozy cabin in Jaegerspris. The cabin/cottage, which we love and stayed in last year, is rustic. The hot water tank is barely adequate. There are few amenities, but, we love it. The garden is green, and the little cabin oozes cozy. The weather rises, the wind blows, but we are cozy. One has to bike to the market, but it is so quiet that one’s ears hum. I slept 9 and a half hours the first night.

And, so, we packed up leisurely because we only had about 20 miles for our journey, including the trip to the market, the Netto, for dinner goods. I think we left the lodging improved. Lynette did her usual awesome job of sweeping and cleaning and detail work.

Packing, by the way, is an experience. Stuff has to be pulled out, with two panniers and a duffle. So, there is an unpacking “bloom,” and a mess to be dealt with to get everything back into the bags. And, some of the things are silly. We ran out of toilet paper in the first lodging, bought some at the market, and I have been carrying one roll, Lynette four, for the whole trip. Silly.

But, gear was packed. And, we figure out ways to do this along the way, more efficiently, more effectively. Indeed, I have started to think about my list of “what was used” and what wasn’t. I need to take less, less, less.

So, sadly, we left. I felt sorry that we did not connect with our friends Annemette and Analise, but we had some quality time with Anne-Marie and Ole, and that was very good. We had a great day on bikes in the sun with exercise, food, and conversation, and we are hoping that they will come to California (skipping LA) and enjoy their time with us.

And, so, we left. An overcast day. And, of course, the wind was from the east. What does this mean? It means that you are riding east, toward Russia, and the damn (oops) Danish Mother wind is blowing into your face. Yep. Worry about going to the west in a westerly, get an easterly going to the east. This is some smart Mother.

“I’m not touching you!”

Yes, but you are crushing me because I counted on west wind. And, what we were left with was rolling landscape (few major ups, but constant ups). It was not easy riding.

We chose to skip the hill down to Jaegerspris, and ride directly across the peninsula to the old bridge to Frederikssund. We left late, and decided to stop at a familiar bakery for a cappuccino and snegle. It was good. A good break, ready to move.

Now the path was problem solving. Sometimes the routing dumps us into uncomfortable roads, with minimal shoulder. And sometimes, we just go different ways if we can find an alternative path. All of the mapping tools do not correct you. If you go the wrong way, even by a short distance, they re-route you from there. Crazy.

And, then there was Mother Wind. An easterly wind. How could it be? Pinned a short time ago behind cliffs on an island, and now, wind in my face, flags pointing to the back of my bicycle. Like, “What?”

The ride was not long, but it was challenging. We followed the maps for a bit, but took some jogs because the traffic was intense, and the shoulder not good. Eventually, we got on a route for back routes, and it was good, but hilly. It was a snake path. At one point, a turn went unexpectedly to dirt paths, which are fine, but mud and dirt and weighted bicycles make it challenging.

And, with the Mother Wind, we resigned ourselves to watching kilometers. The path was scenic, and rural, and manageable, and eventually we achieved our Airbnb, a great, private space in rural Farum. Our host was wonderful. We are settling in, and I will post this tomorrow.