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Snowbound - travel story for the day
(From Facebook, April
2022 – by Mark
Anthony James Powell)
On Saturday 28 March, 1992, I rode over
the Alps on the RS from
Italy to Bavaria, to stay with friends in Dingolfing.
I never made it. I hit a
blizzard in a high pass and found the going more and
more difficult.
I was well enough wrapped to cope with
the cold, but had to wipe
continually the snow from my visor. I stopped at a
service station to drink a
hot chocolate and thought of sleeping overnight in the
toilets, but the staff
wanted to close the place and I was the only customer.
I then pulled over in a niche in a
tunnel, and considered
sleeping there, but the atmosphere stank of exhaust
fumes. I managed to arrive
on the plain in Bavaria, but the snow was even worse
and I could see nothing
beyond a few yards.
Then I spotted a bus shelter big enough
to contain both me AND
the bike, and which had a bench to sleep on, so I rode
inside and rolled out my
sleeping bag onto my "bed" for the night.
Luckily I had my Russian rabbit fur
hat, which I wore through
the night. I slept until 7.10am, when the first bus
arrived. One man got off.
He stood shivering, staring at me. He must have been
at a party the night
before, because he wore a colourful Hawaiian shirt and
no coat. We looked at
each other and said nothing...
I arrived at my friends' house in time
for breakfast and heard that 4
people had died in the Alps in the blizzard.
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