March 26: Trains and hill training and other simple things

The training schedule calls for two 5-hour hill training rides this weekend. I’d originally been looking at a solo trip to Limburg or something, but by chance the gym had rented a house in Spa for the weekend for cycling and running, obviously joining them was a better option!

I figured I could catch a train to Maastricht (2h30m) and then cycle 4-5 hours to the house on Saturday, then do the same in reverse on Sunday. Unfortunately, it wasn’t as simple as it should be.

There was rail maintenance for a 10km section which meant a bus replacement. That added some time. Then a new connection was required; that added some time. Instead of the trip taking from 8:30-11:00 it ended up being 8:10-12:30. (I was there early, I’d checked the route online and had been forewarned.) Cycling for five hours means arriving before 6: definitely still possible if I hustled. It was grey and cold and windy but I was pretty determined to not be late so I got moving.

From left to right: heading out, weather is grim and so am I. A very classy waiting room in 's-Hertogenbosch, which was connection #2 or something. Muddy roads in Belgium - I’m sure I remember it being greyer than this.

The rain came and went, it wasn’t more than a drizzle - not really umbrella weather, even the Wicked Witch of the West would have been happy with a hat. Met a few hills, didn’t stay long. Having been cycling around in the lowlands for so long, hills have built up a certain reputation; but the bike has a wide selection of low gears so it’s just a matter of finding the right one. And maybe being content with going 2km/h.

The direct route was a bit over 4 hours, so I’d extended the route out to make it 5. The map didn’t reveal this, but it covered the full range of routes: some asphalt, some gravel, some muddy, some REALLY muddy. It was seriously windy, it blew in from every point of the compass. (I’ve heard this expression before and until now I thought it was exaggeration. Not today.)

The route switched from steep muddy backroads to a relatively flat B-road I’d have to share with traffic. There wasn’t a separate space for bikes so I had to stick to the white lines on the righthand edge. This is a nasty place to ride, the road edge is frayed so you’re trying to find a balance between staying away from the dangerously unreliable edge on the right and the dangerously homicidal drivers on the left.

To add to the fun my back tyre went flat. There was no visible puncture. I tried to pump it up and absolutely nothing happened. Maybe the pump was broken? Or the valve? The usual solution is to put in a new inner tube - but I didn’t have one! I’m usually fastidious about bringing a spare, but it got used to fix another bike in the house this week and I hadn’t replaced it.

It was about 20km to the rented house. I texted them to ask if a pickup was possible: no answer. But the bike still rolled well enough with the flat tyre…

And that’s why I had to do the walk of shame.

The route stayed with the road. I had to get past a roundabout, got honked at by some people going the other way, I’d started going up another hill when a van pulled over and asked if I’d like a lift. In French! It was a nice Belgian gent with almost no English or Dutch; I didn’t have enough French but we got my muddy bike into the back of his clean van and with Google maps I pointed out the village I was staying and we set off.

We couldn’t talk so he turned the radio up, it was some French metal which I wasn’t familiar with. Fairly sure some B-grade horror movies start like this… but a) actual malice-filled psychopaths never put on metal in those movies and b) the satellite locator would mean I got found before the end of the first act.

I shouldn’t cast aspersions, because driving an unprepared stranger and his muddy bike about 20km out of your way is an extremely kind thing to do. I did my best to say thanks, with the small amount of French I had - but since I can’t repay him, I definitely owe the world a similar favor.

That evening one of the other guests kindly offered to help investigate the problem. Just getting the tyre off was really hard - it was stuck to the rim, and we were barely able to free it. (I later found that a good technique is put the deflated tyre on a step and stand on it, then pull the rim up - much better than finger strength.)

The puncture was caused by a small plastic spike, the size of a thorn. I’ve seen YouTube videos demonstrating how good tubeless tyres are at resisting punctures, and spikes like this are the first thing they demo: the tyre doesn’t even lose pressure, you wouldn’t even notice if it happened while riding. (One such video finished by slashing open the tyre with a knife, suturing it with needle and thread, and with a bit of persuasion and time for the sealant to work, the tyre was able to hold pressure.) It’s a really good reason to get those tubeless tyres set up…

So it turned out to be completely standard problem. I had to borrow a spare inner tube, but that was enough to get everything sorted out.

Anyway, not having the spares and tools I should have, meant I had to rely on the kindness of two strangers … I do not intend to have that happen again!

There were over 20 people staying at the house so it was pretty sociable. It was adapted to handle big groups, each room had its own bathroom. Not sure how often the house is full like this - but it was half a kilometer from the Spa Formula One circuit, so the rental during F1 race weekends probably pays the mortgage.

It wasn’t a very late night though, everyone was cycling and/or running and a bit knackered after a day out. I went to bed early and snored so loud my roommate had to find another room! (The next day they explained that they were a light sleeper, but maybe they’re just being polite…)

Sunday’s weather was wet and miserable. I’d planned to cycle 5 hours back to Maastricht but was feeling much less ambitious with the rainy outlook - and after Saturday’s dramas. So I changed the route so it went via Verviers, which was an hour away and had good train connections. I thought I’d get there, see how it was going, and it I wasn’t feeling it I could catch a train. It was pretty lousy weather, I was in that brown jersey which has kept me dry and warm in showers but it was getting quite wet and not warm anymore. The route went on a busy road, the visibility was OK but it’s not a good way to cycle.

When I got to Verviers I checked the train times: the next train was in an hour, no cafes were open, and the station was cold. I thought I might as well go on to Maastricht … but a few minutes up the road in heavy traffic and rain I changed my mind, headed back to the station, bought a ticket, put on another jersey and grumpily tried to keep warm.

And that’s why I had to take the train of shame.

The trip to Maastricht wasn’t direct, I needed to change in Liège: but the station was so amazing I nearly missed my connection.

Photos: according to Komoot this is an intersection; my instruction was “turn right” which actually meant “carry bike up stairs”. Next is a sign saying the road is blocked off in three languages, none of which were English. My view while on the train of shame. Next three are from Liège-Guillemins railway station, where I changed trains. Turns out it isn’t just a random Belgian station but one of the major hubs in the country and is a stop for the TGV and Eurostar, and cost 312 million euro to make it look this good. Fully worth it.

From Maastrict there’s normally a direct route to Amsterdam: but it’s never as simple as it should be. There was that one closed section, but while there was a bus replacement on Saturday it wasn’t available today. So Google Maps suggested two (!) connections to get to Eindhoven, then a train to Rotterdam, then finally a train to Amsterdam. A full day’s travel instead of the usual 2h30 - but still about six hours faster than biking it. Definitely warmer as well.

I had a bit of a stroll around in Maastricht station (well, mainly looking for coffee) when I happened to come face to face with the cancelled train to Amsterdam! It only ran as far as Eindhoven; presumably this subtlety was too much for Google Maps. It left earlier than the route Google had prescribed, and got me there much earlier. So I picked up a quick coffee and took it.

On the connection to Rotterdam I’d warmed up and dried out again, and the weather and my mood were much better. On a whim I checked the time to cycle from Rotterdam to Amsterdam: 4h30! When added to the two abbreviated rides it would bring the total up to 10h for the weekend, exactly what I was scheduled for.

I’ve been finishing rides about 10% faster than Komoot’s time estimates, so when it said 4h30 to Amsterdam that means I could get there under 4h and my biggest problem would be whether the total time for the weekend still added up to 10h. Looks good! Full of hope and enthusiasm I got saddled up, made a quick exit at Rotterdam …

… but as always, it’s never as simple as it should be. While the rain had stopped, there was a strong, unwavering wind blowing directly south. And my route to Amsterdam was directly north. I realized pretty quickly I wasn’t going to get there in 4h: I’m used to being in one of the top gears, but with this wind I was in something mid-tier, and working hard to stay there. Time was running out as well; I started at 16:15 and sunset was just after 20:00.

It all seemed so simple on the train. But still, no regrets. Yet.

I kept grinding on, trying to make the best speed I could. The headwind made it just like a long uphill climb, which is what the weekend is all about, right? (That didn’t make it any better.) A few cyclists went zooming past the other way, they looked very happy with their choice to go south instead of north. I kept going, the 8pm sunset was starting to worry me a bit; I didn’t trust the bike lights …

At about 18:30 I went past Leiden, and I stopped at a New York Pizza for a quick bite. It was a bustling takeaway place (8 staff, five bikes, one table) and they definitely weren’t used to people eating in, they had to move stacks of empty pizza boxes off the only table to make space for me. It’s not a balanced meal but it had the food groups I wanted, and I was back on the road in about 20 minutes.

The wind hadn’t improved. It was still blowing directly south so consistently it was useful for orientation: the route would turn this way and that but the wind made it clear how much forward progress was actually being made. I was hoping that it’d ease off at sunset, these winds often do. But the sun was getting very low and the wind wasn’t.

So I pressed on. One perk of cycling in really flat countryside at sunset is that your shadow gets REALLY long as the sun sets. I stopped to take a photo, but post-sunset worries meant it I got going again pretty quickly.

Photos: A greenhouse the size of a farm, presumably recreating growing conditions in hell. Best pizza I can remember - hunger gave it an extra three stars, and I don’t care. Shadows near sunset.

The route rejoined the roads, Komoot gave me some ambiguous directions that sent me off down the wrong side of a six-lane road. (I retraced my route rather than try to cross it.) It started to drizzle a bit, it was getting dark, and my enthusiasm was diminishing.

I realized my route was beside a main road into Amsterdam, and I passed a bus stop with screens showing that a bus to Station Zuid would be along shortly. Tempting! Would they take bikes? If so I could take it to Zuid, switch to a tram and get taken home in the warm. The bus was due in ten minutes, I thought about it for a minute but couldn’t decide what to do … so I figured the best way to procrastinate would be to change my destination to Station Zuid and cycle to the next stop. It was now quite dark, but it was a major road and there was good streetlighting so visibility was no problem. I get to the next bus stop: a bit less than 10 minutes. Wait for it? Or go to the next? I went on, keeping a lookout for the next stop - but after a while I realized the ways must have parted, because there wasn’t one.

But that was fine, because all the procrastination had paid off: Amsterdam had arrived! A few late dogwalkers, a few scooters on the cyclepaths, and a familiar blue-and-white tram dinging irritably at them. Not far now. The route took a surprise left turn off the street, wound through some dark back ways, ran past the skyscrapers in Zuid, and arrived at Station Zuid. There’s big signs with a bicycle and crossed red circle: does that mean no riding bikes in the station, or no bicycles at all? It was 21:00 on a Sunday night, I decided “don’t ride” was a reasonable interpretation so I innocently took the bike up the escalator, rolled it onto the 52 tram like I did this every day, parked it out of the way and tried to look nonchalant.

Maybe I was looking lost rather than nonchalant? Because a guy stepped up and took exception to me sitting in the priority seats with my bike. I think he was trying to harangue me; but I put on my best polite and well meaning face and he ended up running out of steam and then apologized shamefully and it was starting to get weird when we got to my stop.

So there’s some shame here, but it’s definitely not on my side this time.

In summary, I got stopped by punctures, bad weather, and headwinds; I badly need to sort out my repair kit and rain gear so it doesn’t happen again. Other than that: great weekend!