crossing paths with myself

Posted on August 21, 2023 by Christoph Rehage

the bridge

There was a bridge over the river, which I had crossed two years earlier on my way back from the specialist. It took me about an hour to get there, but when I did I suddenly remembered some of the complicated feelings of that day.

I remembered standing on that bridge, looking over the Danube, swatting mosquitoes from my face, and wondering at the sheer amount of cyclists that were going in both directions. I had no idea about the Eurovelo or about the Danube cycle path. And I remembered looking at the cyclists, listening to a thought echoing through my head: they don’t have MS.

back on the map

And now I was back, and I had brought the Caboose with me. I stood on the bridge for a little while. Then I walked another 10 km until I took my lunch break. I had ciabatta bread with hummus and a bell pepper under a bridge. It was the only place where I could comfortably hide from the sun.

I reached a horse ranch shortly after sunset. There was a man in a window. First I asked him for water, and he told me to get it from the hose in the stable. Then I inquired if there was a place where I could pitch my tent. Yes, the man said, and he pointed to an apple tree.