Friday evening, I shiver. Our train to the start was cancelled and my
well thought out plan to have a motivational speech in the train
disappeared as we squeezed in a cab to bring us to the start. In front
of me were 8 riders, their bikes ready, gps-device switched on, the leds
of the SPOT-trackers blinking regulary. I dropped my speech and stuck
to the bare minimum: safety, rules and goodluck! I took my bike and
asked Henry, our dedicated driver who brought the bikes to the start, to
count down.
21.15 and we were off. My back-muscles
were in a cramp thanks to my nerves, my stomage was empty since I forgot
dinner and I felt slightly sick from the taxi ride (my stomage and cars
don't go very well together). The small group rapidly split up as even
in the centre of Turnhout our strategies were different. As soon as I
saw a quite spot I dismounted and ate a cliff bar while making a phone
call to my gf. Five minutes of recuperation had me motivated again to
get up to speed and see how far the others had gotten by then.
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| At the memorial in front of the dome of Scherpenheuvel. 23.30 and feeling great. |
I rode to Scherpenheuvel without much issues, passing Hannes and Raf on the final approach. At the checkpoint we met again and saw jet-cyclists Stijn and Sven were already passing Diest while we were admiring the church and taking our validation-pictures. From here on I would ride the opposite route as all other riders. While choosing the checkpoints I had already noticed there were two possibilities and I was eager to test whether my sequence would make sense. I knew in advance that I did not have the legs to attack bullets Stijn and Sven who spent several days a week in the saddle of their racing bike and who consider every speed under 30 kph as walking speed. But Thomas and the two Wims were worthy opponents which I might defeat if my route was easier albeit longer.
So I turned to Leuven and made good speed. At Leuven I met Gert-Jan who was riding for fun as he needed to attent a funeral the next day. We had a chat and I stocked up on water. Then I turned south to Namur. Although much of the roads I choose were unlit, I made good speed and managed to eat on a regulary basis. I had a short stop not far from Namur and descended into the city in good mood. It was 2 am and the center struck me as beautiful and welcoming. At the central square I filled all waterbottles and my camelbag, enough water to cover the comming 10 hours.
Leaving Namur I chose the wrong side of the Maas and ended up riding on a hiking path on the right bank which was full of mud or gravel. It did not slow me down significantly but at the first opportunity I rode across the river and joined the Ravel-cycling path. It was a mix of good asphalt and cobble stones and I had to reduce my speed as the cobble stones made riding very uncomfortable.
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| On the bridge in Dinant, just lost some time changing the tire, so no time to waste on nice posing. |
Just outside Dinant I hit good asphalt and immediately picked up speed only to notice my rear wheel had developed a wobble on the cobblestones. I halted at a well lit place and inspected the wheel. The rim appeared to be well centered and all spokes were in one piece. The tire had good pressure so I started looking for a sheer in the casing. I couldn't see it but I soon felt the tire was wider in one place and the casing appeared to have been damaged close to the tirebead. I had a spare, so took no risks and replaced the tire and rode into Dinant. As I had already lost a fair amount of time I didn't enjoy the views for very long and climbed out of town, heading to Remouchamps, soon to discover I messed up while planning my route...
