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Bike Touring Journals by Neil Anderson and Sharon Anderson

Bicycle touring journals

May 31 Wednesday 25ยบ C sunny windy blue sky Bicycle touring Holland

In the morning, I pull out my earplugs. The first thing I hear is that cuckoo bird. It's like a bad dream.

We cycle across a long bridge. The windmill propellers that were so clear last evening, can barely be made out, they are so shrouded in mist. They look like giant plane propellers warming up to take off with invisible planes. "Hey guys, I have a feeling we've forgotten something." The three propeller jobbies look like giant kids' twirly pinwheels stuck in the ground.

Along the cycle path, our fully loaded touring bicycles' panniers hanging out, we come toward a group of school kids who have taken up both sides of the path, chatting to one another on their way to school.

The first few cyclists move over as they approach us, but the cyclists farther back haven't noticed the parting of the Red Sea. Our overloaded touring bicycle panniers almost take a couple of students out before they notice us. I'm going to have to start using my bicycle bell, but I was too busy trying to keep my bike upright on one inch of bicycle path pavement. Ding ding ding!

With all the bikes in the Netherlands we still stick out like sore thumbs with our overladen touring beasts. Other European touring cyclists we have seen would fit right in with the Dutch cyclists -- with just their two rear cycling bags no one could tell. Most Dutch cyclists have rear bags for toting groceries and what have you. We've only seen one other bicycle touring couple with front panniers.

In Zeeland we pull our touring bikes to a halt to admire the Delta project. It is a massive project and engineering feat to keep the North Sea at bay. One German fella said it's the 8th wonder of the world.

We stop to eat at a rest stop. I can even get my legs under the picnic table this time. But then I can't reach the table. What the? They can make the Delta project, but they can't make a simple picnic table. The ninth wonder of the world?

On our way cycling to Middleburg, we hit a detour as they are resurfacing the road. The workmen have covered the sign pointing the way to Middleburg, but they don't give any detour route. Apparently, you just can't get to there from here.

We cycle on and come to a sign post pointing to Middleburg in the direction we just came from. One could cycle back and forth between those two points all day long until collapsing from exhaustion.

We cycle onward, over a dune, looking at the sun's position for direction. At an intersection on the bike path an old man and woman are resting. I enquire for directions. The woman points and says, "Go down here. Turn right. And go and go and go."

We get back on our bicycles and set off, expecting some expedition. It is all of ten kilometres.

In Middleburg there's a church tower with coloured jujubes on top. The bicycle commuters are just heading home. What a wacko bunch. Talk about kamikaze cyclists. I watched them as Sharon shopped for groceries and was amazed that no one got crashed into.

Interesting thing about shopping in the Netherlands. They don't give you any bags to put your groceries in. The deposit for pop bottles is one guilder. That explains why we haven't seen a single pop bottle along the roads or cycle paths. If deposit was $1 in Canada, we probably wouldn't see too many bottles lying in the ditch either. Good idea.

The ferry across to Belgium is the best deal I've seen. One guilder, including our touring bicycles, for a thirty minute crossing. The twenty minute Texel ferry wanted $8.50 each, each way.

We met four elderly day-cyclists from Belgium. They live in Brugges, about 30 kilometres from the ferry. It is getting late. "Are you going to go all the way tonight," I enquire my aging compatriots. "Oh, yes," they reply. I figure they must be in pretty good shape for their ages. We dock. They cycle to the parking lot and load their bikes onto a waiting car. As we cycle past, they smile and wave. Ha ha.

We see forest off in the distance and cycle down a pebble strewn lane to reach it. The forest is so thick we can barely squeeze our fully loaded touring bicycles through. It has been planted in rows, but underbrush has grown haphazardly everywhere between the rows. We bushwhack and clear a small spot for the tent. Should have packed my chainsaw.

Sharon makes a pot of lip-burning chili. That should give me some extra horsepower for our Belgium bicycle tour tomorrow. There might even be hills. And we should be warm in the tent tonight, too.

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Lead Goat Veered Off 096867402X

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