Saratov spreads along the high right bank of the Volga, a big, busy city of more than eight hundred thousand people that grew rich on grain and river trade. The old center climbs a series of terraces from the water, with leafy avenues, nineteenth-century mansions and a long pedestrian street, and the hills behind it, including Sokolovaya Gora, give wide views over the river and the flat plain on the far shore. The Volga here is nearly a kilometer wide, and a long road and rail bridge, among the longest in Europe when it opened in 1965, links Saratov to its neighbor Engels on the left bank.
The city has two moments of fame that deserve a mention. Yuri Gagarin, the first man in space, studied at an industrial school in Saratov and learned to fly at the local aeroclub, and when he returned to earth in April 1961, he landed by parachute in a field near the village of Smelovka, not far from Engels. A monument marks the spot, and Gagarin is a hero in the city. The other is the story of the Volga Germans. Catherine the Great invited German farmers to settle the steppe here in the eighteenth century, and Engels, across the river, was the capital of the Volga German Republic until Stalin deported its people in 1941. The memory survives in old buildings and family names.
The riding opens up outside the city. Along the river, the hills rise in chalk and sandstone, and the roads towards Khvalynsk wind through low ridges with views of the water. They are not alpine, but they are varied, with gentle bends, farm villages and old white churches. The surface is mixed, with good and bad patches, and distances are long and the land is open. Summer is hot and dry, with temperatures that can exceed thirty-five degrees, while spring and autumn are comfortable. Winter brings snow and strong winds across the steppe.
Services are no trouble in a city this size, with fuel stations at every junction, restaurants and repair shops. It is the sensible place to fill up and eat before heading into the quieter hill country.
Walk along the embankment in the evening, when the river catches the light and families come out. The Volga here has a presence that is hard to describe.