Recovery Ride

As promised, Sunday's rapport:

The effects of approx. three Trappist Dubbels and a couple of shots of Jenever do not wear off that quickly, I found, and I woke up on Sunday morning with a taste of Jenever still in my mouth but with a surprisingly clear head. I also woke up 40 minutes later than planned, and had roughly half an hour to get ready and ride out to the bridge for the Sunday recovery ride. Bolt down a cup of coffee, several muesli bars and a yoghurt (not too many superfoods in there) and I was out the door.

I ended up being early, as we didn't leave for five minutes. Jo of the five Trappists rocked up, as did Rudy, but I didn't spot any of the others from the cafe. I remembered Jo's promise that we were going to attack on the cobbles near the top of one of the hills, so that was my primary motivation for being there. Also, riding is the best way to get rid of a hangover.

We had a modest sized group and were very orderly as we rode down the Schelde, but I believe there were some comments made when a police van passed us going in the wrong direction. It immediately turned around, sirens blaring, and about half of the group was stopped to get an earbashing from a very angry cop. Apparently we weren't riding two abreast (what do you think happens when the front two guys pull off after doing their turn?) but the thing that actually annoyed him were the snide remarks. It wasn't me guv'nor, honest. I was off the back.

Mr Officer, who claimed to be a former bike rider, wasn't going to book us because none of us would have had any ID. We are such an anarchistic lot. I mean, it's a slippery slope from riding four abreast to international (wieler)terrorism, and this goodly officer clearly wanted to nip it in the bud. He deserves a medal for his crime fighting vigilance.

About 500m later, we turned off the Schelde anyway, and continued our very sedate pace on the Sunday parcours. There was no inkling of an attack on the cobbles, and we did the Trap Op in about the slowest time ever, due to a) a minor crash at the bottom, involving our own cycling cop (I think he's a cop), and b) some communing with nature. But at the top, Philip Vereecke had lifted the tempo a bit and we started to roll over at 40 clicks.

After the Edelare descent, we were given a tip off from one of the others who had taken a shortcut that the cops were just around the corner. So we all got onto the bike path just in time to see the cop van. Hah! We're law abiding citizens, we are. Then, to be even more sneaky, we decided to go straight ahead and take the bridge at Eine instead of the earlier one, and we gave the p'lice the slip again! It was wielerterrorism at its best.

Just before Eine, Jo and I were on the front, not going hard but riding tempo, and we looked back and saw we had a couple of hundred metres. That was all the incentive we needed and we kept going fairly hard back along the Schelde, encountering no more cops. The Others didn't bother chasing and we were about five minutes ahead at the end. Thus, Saturday's promise had more or less been fulfilled!

It was a great way to get rid of the alcohol, and for some reason it was my best day on or off the bike for about four weeks! Mr Vereecke's girlfriend told me that it was probably all the vitamin B in the Trappists, and who am I to argue? That stuff really works. Jo and I opted not to go for any recovery drinks though.

In other news, it's been beautiful weather here for the last two days: sunny and 20++!#. That has been pleasant.

I am in the throes of moving stuff, which means I haven't started yet. Better clean the bathroom. I believe that a new tenant has already been found, which only took a week. Anyone got a garage I can rent for three months?

(Note on comments: I've turned on an anti-spam thingy so you have to type the secret word in to post a comment. Don't ask me what the secret word is, but it's not theodolite. Blogger will tell you.)