Day 50: Tuesday, 28 June 1983

Start: Hostel, Heeg, Netherlands

End: Campground, Berkhout (Hoorn?), Netherlands

Slept fitfully and had to get up a couple of times for the bathroom.

Noise and commotion in the bunk room at 7:30 AM. No choice but to rise and shine. Skipped breakfast. Never a good plan, but I don't know how my stomach will hold up. Diarrhea subsiding. Wind fiercely in my face as I struggle up the road to pick up the Afsluitdijk, which has been a big goal for me. I'm riding slowly and it's tiring. Not enjoying the journey this morning.

I finally reach the eastern terminus of the Afsluitdijk, the long causeway that holds the IJsselmeer (formerly the Zuider Zee) apart from the North Sea. It's about 32 km long with separate lanes for bikes. My direction turns from northwest to southwest, but the wind seems to stay in my face. Wow! This is a very exciting ride on a narrow strip of road bordered by water on both sides for mile after mile. Plenty of places to pull over and look at the choppy North Sea, but no shops or services or people along the way. Just a long straight causeway with road and bike lanes. I'm starting to feel better, but now I'm hungry. Weather gray and cold and blustery, and the wind always seems to be against me.

A memorable ride but it would have been easier if I weren't feeling so crappy.

The causeway returns me to land at the western end and my route turns south. I've mapped a straight shot into Hoorn, north of Amsterdam, but I'm befuddled by the requirement to ride on bike paths not marked on my maps. Makes navigation tougher. Nearing my destination, I have another flat tire. It starts spitting rain at just about the same time. Damn! I'm feeling weary and none too healthy, but I try to deal with it. I find a sliver of metal and fix the puncture. Before I put everything back together, I decide to go over it again. Sure enough, there's a second sliver of metal and second puncture. Two for the price of one. At least I found it before I got back in the saddle and it deflated beneath me. I awkwardly go through the patching process again. Face it, my tires are worn out. Not enough rubber on the road. Need to replace them and get a couple of new tubes as well. Amsterdam should have everything I need.

While I'm sitting on the sidewalk in a light drizzle with grease all over my hands, bitching to myself, and struggling with the tire, an attractive woman emerges from a nearby door. Not sure if it's a home, bar, restaurant, or what. In the same excellent English almost everyone in the country seems to have mastered, she suggests I should come in for a cup of tea after I repair my bicycle. Then she goes back inside. When I get everything back together, I'm feeling so crappy and low that I just ride off.

I finally rumble into a campground shortly before it really starts to rain. I'm not quite sure if the name of this place is Berkhout or Hoorn, but I think I'm about 30 kilometers north of Amsterdam. I need to sleep and regain my strength tonight, then I'll roll into the city tomorrow morning. I promise, promise, promise I'll find a hotel and take a rest day there.

I put on my warm gear, slip into my bag, and read by flashlight.

Conditions 

Distance: 95 km  

Weather: Chilly, overcast, wind in the face, starting to drizzle 

Road: Good 

Traffic: Very light 

Terrain: Very flat 

Mechanical: Two flat tires 

Physical: Feeling better by evening but still weak