Rarely have I looked forward to a corporate hotel room as much. The prospect of a long, hot bath and beer was desperately enticing after the 55 miles we covered today. This is of course a mere trifle to my battle-hardened colleagues, but the most I've ever ridden in a day. One hour of bath, Dutch Classic FM, a packet of Pringles and a Heineken later and I can settle down to write this. Human again. Well, not a sweaty cyclist, anyway.
The day went very well, the weather improving through the journey until it was quite hot approaching Nieuwegein (just south of Utrecht). No major disasters (although the Great Rhys took a tumble, to everyone's amazement) and just one puncture - Chris Y again, just as we came to the hotel - we 'lost' him suddenly and he reappeared clutching bike & panniers with that 'yes, it's me again' look.
Riding in Holland is a revelation. It's no coincidence that of the eight punctures, only one has been in the Netherlands. Most cycle tracks are well laid out, flat and billiard table-smooth. It's almost a welcome break to encounter some kind of incline. The one exception to this rule was when we had to negotiate a long series of overlapping steel plates, covered with slippery sand - the cause of Rhys' downfall.
The pace was largely steady, but picked up after lunch. Whether that was the effect of alchohol, or Rhys (who was leading) trying to demonstrate that his Wit Beer had had no effect on him I don't know. Normally he's to be found at the back, like a good shepherd (actually, make that 'sheepdog') making sure we don't lose the waifs & strays. Rhys is amazing - the oldest of the bunch by a mile, the progenitor of this whole event six years ago and the ONLY one to have taken part in all six. We treat him with some respect, if not awe. Over lunch he was seeing if anyone would be interested in his next project - the hundreds of miles over the Sierra Nevadas from LA to attend the NAB convention in Las Vegas. I don't think there were any takers. There were mutterings of 'Death Valley' and the like...
By and large we rattle along at about 15mph (according to my gadget - everyone's seems to read differently). This is of course pathetic for some of the team and Chris Yanda couldn't help but slip in behind a faster rider that was overhauling us and vanish, tailing him into the distance. Maybe it was the fact that the rider wore a yellow jersey that made it irresistible.
The bike has behaved impeccably and performed well, with just that little tweak from Chris Yanda (to the gears). Actually its motive unit hasn't done badly either, topping 20mph for some stretches (but not for long!) No serious problems and even my bum doesn't hurt. Amazing. I think I may have felt the merest hint of a knee starting to say something at 52 miles, but I decided not to listen and we're still on speaking terms as I write. The coughing & runny nose has been an ever-present backdrop, but doesn't seem to have dulled my performance or enthusiasm.
I am beginning to understand why not all of the team are as lean as 350-miles' worth of exercise might imply (those clinging bike clothes give everything away, guys). It may be high energy activity, but the calorie intake has been enormous. I had to give up at the second stop for coffee and appelgebak met slagroom (apple pie & whipped cream to you and me). This was less than an hour after lunch. No doubt tonight's meal will not be an order for nine salads (ah yes, nine - we've lost another from the gang: Paul Lewis, who's had to skip off to Amsterdam early, by train this time).
So, not far to go to Amsterdam and we're all set. Can't wait.