ALTDOF , GERMANY -- I spent Sunday night camping in Sebastian Gabler's backyard. He was a tall, lean man who wore Jacki'O blue jean shorts, a Wittmann beer advertisement bicycling T-shirt and hid his age well -- but probably was probably close to 70.

He was a fellow biker who felt the need to take me home when he saw me at a strawberry stand outside Altdorf, just past Landslot.

Sebastian didn't know a lot of English, other than the occasional "OK."

Some teens at the strawberry stand were more fluent in English, and we spent about 20 minutes chatting and translating.

Roman, who had the best English, had spent 10 months in the States, was also fluent in Russian. He asked if I was ever afraid while on tour. And I said I called it nervous apprehension ... and felt it was normal.

We biked to Sebastian's house along with his wife. At least I thought it was his wife but Anna turned out to be a convenient friend.

Anna spent the rest of the evening trying so hard to make an impression, and Sebastian just let it be.

Anna raced around trying to feed me, clothe me and learn English in a span of four short hours.

She was a short, heavy, saucy woman with a round face and glasses who probably biked only because Sebastian biked.

She gave me a towel and offered a welcomed shower.

Both gave me space to set up camp and get organized and then, while sitting out back by the picnic table Sebastian joined me.

He sat in a recliner patio chair and we just looked at the sky in complete silence. I think I heard my hair grow.

Anna then wheeled around the corner and clearly said "eat." Somebody had been coaching her.

Their neighbor Britianna yelled out "hello" while watering her garden. "Hi, welcome. I know a little English and can help if you like," she said with confidence. "I worked for several years behind the wheel of a Greyhound Bus. Go Greyhound and leave the driving to us," she smiled, cheering the company slogan.

Coming up behind me and breathing hard was Anna offering a plate with two open-faced sandwiches. Both sandwiches had butter; one was covered with thick cuts of yellow cheese while the other had round, quarter inch slices of sausage. She also had two bottles of lemonade locked under here armpit.

Sebastian waived her off, it was his turn with guest and we looked over several maps.

From what I could gather, Sebastian recently completed a two-week bicycle tour of southern Germany and was showing me his route.

Anna took off, like she forgot she left a pie in the oven.

I actually understood quite a bit of Sebastian's tour. He kept it short and we went back to silent sitting and watching a hot air balloon in the distance sky.

A couple minutes later Anna came round the corner. Her momentum got the best of her along with speed and gravity. She fought to catch her balance and reminded me of a dog, feet flying as they race around the corner on a linoleum kitchen floor.

Anna carried a square plastic container with little wrapped hard candies. "Eat, eat," she said with enthusiasm.

I took one. She beamed. It tasted brown.

The next morning Anna was gone. Sebastian fixed me breakfast of coffee, rolls and apple butter and we ate in complete silence.

His house looked like he lived there forever. Not an open space on the walls for shelves, but everything in its place.

He spoke again about his biking accomplishment and pointed to a pair of identical barometers, predicting much sun for the day.

After breakfast, Sebastian climbed aboard his dark yellow Bauer three-speed with a headlight mounted to the handlebars and escorted me to the main drag.

Tidbits from today...

-- Got in 68 miles from Altdorf to Neuburg. Was completely turned around within a span of four miles from Manching to Ingolstadt and felt l was asking directions every 10 minutes.

Sabine Schlaifer and her mom Hildegard were a tremendous help. Sabine spent a year in California and translated directions from her mom who was a lifer in Manching; between the three of us we figured it out.

-- Stopped at the bank in Mainburg and a lady walked in with her dog. It was a pocket dog, but a dog nonetheless and nobody seemed taken aback but me.

-- Secured a garden lot for the night behind St. Peter's church in Neuburg. Predictions on the forecast are mixed, however rain seems inevitable.