1/4 of July, The Swedish Palace, and One Posh Potty

Day: 3  Strömstad, Sweden to Stenungsund, Sweden

Average Speed: 17.4 km/h (11 mph... can you handle that speed?)

Miles Cycled Today: 126.4.5 km (78.5 Miles)

Miles Cycled Total: 342 km (212.5 Miles)

Mood: Relaxed

July 4th in Sweden. Just another Tuesday. No hot dogs. No potato salad. And I’m willing to bet that the local hospitals aren’t tending to nearly as many blown off fingers as they are in America (best to do it now you daredevils while there’s still some form of health care!). 

Stumped? Click Here and scroll down for the explanation.

In fact, the most patriotic I did was the NY Times crossword, which I completed while multitasking. 

See if you can figure out why it’s patriotic just by looking at the answers highlighted in yellow in the grid. (Hint: Look at the beginning of each and the first part of this post's title). 

Oh… and I had a McDonald’s cheeseburger. Does that count?

I Left Before the Mutiny 

It may not have been the most exciting day, but I’d be hard pressed to find anything to complain about... although it was a bit sad leaving the pirate themed campground.

The weather was perfect and the scenery changed constantly. The uphills were mostly lazy, and the downhills were even lazier (there’s nothing better than a long, slow downhill for cruising).

I’m definitely a little sore and achy, but that’s to be expected. In the last 3 days I’ve cycled more than I have since September 2016.

I’m thinking it’ll be at least another 2 weeks until it’s painless.

Here's today's route:

Today's Route

Elevation Profile

The route itself was an eclectic mix of rural Swedish countryside, small towns, larger cities, coastline, and industrial zones. I was never in one setting long enough to get tired of looking around.

SWEDISH COUNTRYSIDE:

Think Maine. Or maybe Virginia. Actually, it was pretty reminiscent of Westtown, New York, come to think of it. Of course, Google took me on the occasional "shortcut" through a field or two, but I can take that in small doses. Adds variety. 

One thing that was indeed very exciting was the moose that jumped out of the woods between me and an oncoming car. Surprisingly, It's the first time I've ever seen a moose. I've been through all sorts of states that boast a high moose population- Alaska, Montana, Wyoming... New Jersey- and I've never seen one.

This is Not a Moose

They're not the most graceful things. 

And although I'm super happy the oncoming driver was spared, I am curious to know the type of damage those things can inflict on a car. I've hit a dozen or so deer in my lifetime, and it's never pretty. But this. It's a moose. 

Fun to say. Awful to hit. Moose. 

I never quite understood how people are able to record things on their phone so quickly. I think I get too excited and nervous and I wind up pressing the wrong buttons- because I had ample time to get a good picture of Bullwinkle, and this is the best shot I got:

Which is Worse? The Photo or My Handwriting?

SMALL TOWNS:

The route took me through several towns like Tanumshede (population 1,697). Quaint and charming with all of one's basic needs available in the town "centrum" (what we would call "downtown"). 

I Don't Understand Why There's a Law Banning the Color Blue

Need a haircut? Get one in Tanumshede!

Need a sandwich? Don't look past Tanumshede!

Drugs? Tanumshede's got your fix!

That's right! I walked out of a supermarket and a friendly young fella struck up a conversation with me. I was a bit surprised- as I noted in yesterday's entry, that's a bit of a rarity. So I was happy to oblige. 

Him: Where from?

Me: New York.

Him: Ahhhh! New York!

Me: Yup.

Him: (quieter, yet more excited) Coca? Hash?

Me: Huh?

Him: (big shit-eating grin) Wanna coca? Hash?

Me: I'm good, thanks. 

I don't think the phrase "I'm good" translates well to someone who isn't fluent in English, because he definitely thought he had a sale. 

I'm more curious as to what demographic he's going for- A foreign thirty something in orange cycling gear leaving a deli doesn't seem like an obvious target to me. I kinda wanted to help the guy out a little.  

LARGER CITIES:

Udevalla (population 32,000) is a port city. 

It seemed nice. 

It was a steep climb leaving the city. One of those climbs that makes the front tire pop up... so 18% maybe?

That's what I remember about Udevalla. 

INDUSTRIAL ZONES:

I had no idea that the Swedish Palace was located in a non-descript industrial zone of Sweden. 

The Swedish Palace

The one in Paramus, New Jersey is a replica. 

To be honest, this is the first thing I saw that screams "SWEDEN." I don't know what I was expecting, but yesterday when I crossed the border, I had no clue that I did. Check out this text exchange with Christina:

When I got this message, I was in some sort of flea market. I looked up, and sure enough this is how I knew I was in Sweden:

This Shirt Doesn't Come in Small. I Asked.

There were no flags, no signs, no customs agents. Just a T-Shirt that translates to "Real Men Weigh Over 100 KG*." And that's how I knew I was in Sweden. Because of the two dots over the O.  *That's about 220 lbs. Once I was close to being a real man at 215.

Where 'Dem Fishies At?

After passing IKEA, I wondered if they sold Swedish meatballs inside like they do in the U.S., and if so... did they just call them "meatballs." Or is the qualifier still necessary? 

Similarly, there's a conspicuous absence of Swedish Fish in the candy aisles. But maybe I'm looking for them wrong. They're probably just called "Fish."

This thought kept me entertained for about half an hour.

COASTLINE:

Coastline of Stenungsund- Tjörn Bridge in Background

The rest of the route had me darting in and out of the beautiful coastline. I hated whenever I had to turn away from the shore... not because of losing the vista... but because that meant steep, sudden climbs. 

And as usual, the most brutal hills were at the end of the ride. I handled them fine though- not like yesterday. 

10 Bucks? I'll Take It!

The coast led me to Stenungsund, where I'm staying now. It's rife with lovely yacht clubs and fancy hotels. But somehow I managed to find the only place I've seen so far in Scandanavia that isn't perfectly manicured... the uncleverly named "Stenungsund Camping."

I was drawn by the negative reviews online. This is my kind of place. Unkempt. Unruly. Un-expensive. 

And check out this bathroom! Ooh-La-La! I don't know why they decided to go posh with the lounge area and library amidst the smells of typical campground toilets, but it's daring and I like it. The stainless steel sink troughs add a nice touch too!

"What should we do on this beautiful day, Bob?"
"Let's head over to the men's hot and steamy potty structure and read us a novel or two!"

My Tiny Tent

Another long distance cyclist- Jacob from Holland- set up camp nearby. And we both agreed: this is our type of place. 

I was just a bit peeved when I saw his tent. It's the same exact mansion Jamie had last year. And Jacob seems like he knows what he's doing... 

Jacob's Mansion

Jacob from Holland

I think I have tent envy. 

Jacob also has the same saddle that I do- The Brooks B-20. 

But his is black. 

And mine is green. 

Therefore mine is better. 

No Saddle Envy

P.S.

Sweden must've heard about me...

But if they think this sign is gonna hinder my farts... they've got another thing comin'