Dijksgracht

Friday September 2nd
In Which we Arrive at the City of Bikes

The final day of any ride is always tinged with a mixture of elation and sadness. In some ways it is a wonderful feeling to complete the task that we have anticipated for so long, yet at the same time I don't think that anyone really wants it to finish.
We really were blessed with a fantastic group of riders and we all enjoyed (just) about every minute of the ride from Bruges to Amsterdam. For several of our riders it was their first ever adventure with the Ghostriders and I really hope that it won't be their last.

This final section was only about 50 km in length so we knew that it would not be too onerous, especially as our familiar tailwind was still blowing steadily to assist us on our way.

A short distance along the way we stopped at a working cheese farm to observe how a small (100 head) operation functions.

I think the owner's name was "Colby" (a pretty suitable name I thought for a cheesemaker) and she showed us how the baby female cows are given an opportunity to produce milk, while their unfortunate male siblings are taken on a one way holiday to the veal factory. I looked at all the cobwebs on the roof and the cow manure underneath and wondered whether standards for hygiene in Dutch farms may be a little slacker than the pristine sheds I have seen in Australian dairy farms.

Colby did show us all the correct way to slice cheese with a Norwegian cheese slicer. "I want one ", said Maggie. I bought two, expecting to also be given a set of steak knives (but there weren't any). With the new cheese slicers in my pannier we set off again towards Amsterdam.

One essential feature of all such group rides is the daily appointment of the "Sweeper". The role of the sweeper is to always ride at the rear of the peloton and take care of any stragglers who have dropped behind or lost their way. You might imagine that the job of the sweeper is not a very popular one, however I have had no problem in getting volunteers. This is probably because being the sweeper also brings with it the privilege of being custodian of one of our CB radios. I am usually the custodian of the other radio and this enables me to be notified of any problem (crash, puncture, photo delay, etc) that may be holding up riders at the rear

I can then alert the rest of the group to slow down or stop, until the stragglers are reabsorbed into the group.

When we stopped for morning tea Pascale produced something of a surprise from her pannier. It was one of the CB radios. Now how did that get there ? Of course I first accused the sweeper of having been careless with one of my valuable radios, but the sweeper (Gavan) immediately showed that his radio was still safely in his care. This was starting to get embarrassing. Now where was my CB ? It was no longer in my pannier. How could that happen ? At first I accused Pascale of blatant theft, but I suspect that the real reason was much closer to home. Since all the bikes look very similar, the evidence was pointing to my own personal incompetence. Apparently I had packed the radio into the wrong pannier by mistake at the start of the ride.I grabbed the radio back, packed it into my pannier, and tried to pretend it didn't happen.

We all knew what a complete nightmare the bicycle menace of Amsterdam constituted, even though Tom had promised that it was "quite easy from this side". It wasn't. We soon found ourselves battling with a sea of bicycles and also about 400 runners doing some sort of fun run. I suppose such challenges are one reason why the population of Holland is steadily decreasing.

We dodged and weaved our way along the teeming path and then proceeded to cross a huge bridge ( a bit like the West Gate Bridge, but just for bicycles). If this didn't kill us all nothing would. With bicycles coming at us from every direction, I wasn't really surprised when a tiny (very tiny) little car also came driving along the path as well. Why not ? After all it looked a bit like the tiny plastic car my grandchildren have such fun in, except this one had an engine.

By a sheer miracle of nature and a temporary suspension of the laws of probability we all avoided fatal accidents and actually arrived at the Magnifique in high spirits, It was time for congratulations and hugs as we parked our bikes for the last time. Thirty riders started and all thirty riders finished this first section.
We now have a short break before resuming our Odyssey Ride to Budapest. Some 9 riders will be leaving us in Amsterdam, while others will be joining us for the next leg.

After our final dinner on the boat we climbed aboard a rocking wooden boat for a cruise around the elaborate canal networks of Amsterdam. A gentle rain started falling and I reminded everyone that this was the first rain we had seen since we left Bruges a week earlier.

One of those doing her very first Ghostrider Adventure was Betty Taylor. I had known Betty and her husband Phil for many years and had often invited them to join us on a trip. It was hard to believe that they had finally gotten sick of my perpetual nagging and agreed to come along to shut me up. Betty captivated us all with a beautiful poem that she had written about the trip and the people that she had shared the adventure with. It almost sounded like they were glad they had come along. I never ceased to be amazed at the diverse sets of talents that I find in every group of people.

Thanks so much to all those who shared section one, you are all champions.

Editor's Postscript - Betty's Poem
After months of trepidation
The day had finally come
We were to meet on the Magnifique
The promise of lots of fun
A welcome hug from Dennis
Made us feel right at home
I knew at that moment
Our fate was set in stone
The months of lack of training
The fear of falling off
All melted into oblivion
The barge was far from rough
Candelabras on the tables
White table cloths all pressed
Exquisite floral crockery
The barge was beautifully dressed
The crew were all so friendly
And work so very hard
Captain Roy at the helm
Ingeborg on the guard
Chef Raymon left quite quickly
Chef Peter saved the day
Jens always in the background
Aida helping without delay
And now we come to our guide Tom
A presence beyond words
His curly hair a relative
Of sheep of many herds
Perhaps that's why he is so good
At dealing with the group
He rides up front
And we all follow like a little troupe
There's Lou up front
Who likes to speed
He also likes
A very good feed
And at the back
Our sweepers all
We occasionally need
To give them a call
But fit young Douglas
Manages to ride
Back and forth
To be our guide
And Dennis Milling
Is always there
When turning corners
To make us aware
Of the direction we're going
The twists and the turns
Managing the traffic
The bollards and curves
Then there's Pauline and Gonnie
Teaching us their ways
Helping us out
With a Dutch word or phrase
There's Janna our queen
Always on the move
With endless energy exploring
Wanting to improve
And smiling John Hill
The friendliest of us all
Who says hello to everyone
Even the birds that call
Pascal is always the joker
And Mary's full of grace
Royce is the quiet thinker
While Peggy sets a cracking pace
Fran is always smiling
And John R loves to sing
Lisa's always helpful
Carol loves a fling
Maggie's chief photographer
And Geoff knows how to dance
Gavin's our belly dancer
And Brigitte was born in France
Diane does lots of research
David's the butt of jokes
Which he accepts good naturedly
From all the cheeky folks
Ross is one of the quiet ones
Like Ken and Paul and Jan
The sensitive,caring,creative group
A must for any clan
Rhonda loves the bushes
Gael and Gerry are a pair
Lynda loves her windmills
Dennis wants us to be fair
So now the sea of faces
Have all become our friends

So thank you Dennis kindly
We're sad our trip now ends.
Thanks for a great holiday
Betty and PhillipRead more