10 PM, time to go to bed, tomorrow we’ll ride the 150 K fun ride version of the Amstel Gold Race with the finish in my hometown. The weather forecast looks OK and I did all the workouts to the limit. I notice over ten thousand champions and bikes at the start, ready to go, after a few kilometers the first Dutch Mountain appears and I see nothing but dancing helmets.
After a few climbs and a lot of turns I am joining a group on flashy blue Gitanes, red Raleighs and Gazelles, they look at me if I am out of space. A guy who looks a lot like Bernard H asks me where I left the cables and the shifters like on their handlebar and frame. A small guy looking a lot like Lance A asks me why I ordered a grey frame, I told him that the manufacturers of this titanium frame will have their 35th anniversary in 2016, maybe you will own one someday. He laughs, he says he’s got other plans.
I’ve got other plans too, on the Keutenberg climb, starting at 22%, and 15 k from the finish, I give full pull and at the top the group counted only 20 men. We saw them coming, the Italians and Spaniards and the small guy, but we were able to maintain the gap with me in the lead with my Moots RSL out of space.
Riding full speed to the last roundabout, we are supposed to take right turn, the motor cycles in front of us take us straight over and that’s the wrong turn and we are now going to descend the Cauberg. Everybody out of breath asking, where is the finish now?, probably an extra climb, so we go full speed to the bottom and nobody cares about the sharp corner. BOOMMMMMM, we crash with 20 riders in the corner at 60 k’s an hour, a pile of bikes, riders, bottles and granola-bars. Ooooooh Sh.
Ringggg, the alarm clock, the sun is already shining, the Moots RSL still against the bedroom wall, ready to ride