The Flemisch tour |
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For some time I have on my list to ride the "Flemisch tour" with the CX-club.
Belgium is not to far away, so it can be done. The distance is not the
problem, but to find a day to go proves to be an larger challenge.
For 2009 the planning for the "Flemisch" is 18 and 19 July. And again, I have something I must do that day, so, no "Flemisch tour". Maybe next year. As the time passes, more and more applications appear on the forum of the Dutch Honda CX-500 club until, at the very last moment Jan, who is organizing the event, put a message up on the message board. Beside a temporaly camp-site there are also plans for a barbeque and a 'make your our pizza'event. But at 17 Julie the wheaterforecast is not favorable for activities like that. Jan dicides that camping, making your own pizza, a barbeque and a motor tour can not be done on days with rain and storm, en sets a new date, september 12 and 13. At first that look much better for me. But one of my uncles has his birthday, just at that day. When being born, 91 years ago, he had not taken the "Flemisch CX tour 2009" into account, or else he was born two days later....... But I manage to get all things planned for that day, sepember 12. First: Hellevoetsluis, for extensive celibrations, return to Ede, get some rest, and finally to Balen. Must be possible. And, after a small hour rest, I take all the neccesary things, put them behind me onto the saddle of the "Red Rascal", place earplugges and helmet where they belong, and after a very neccesary 'good-bye-hug' I leave for Balen in Belgium at 16:00 | |
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It is Saturday, the sun is shining, the CX feels like he wants to ride,
and I feel rather good. The A12, then the A50 and later the A67. All of
then highway, because I am in a bit of a hurry. Not such a hurry that I
have to watch out for speed camera's, but more hurry than usualy.
After Ravenstijn the road is less known, and after Veghel I am realy on unknown area. Then I approach Eindhoven, where for some time people are working on a large rebuild for roads and tunnels and fly-overs, for a considerable time now. My TOMTOM is an old model, of the end of 2005, and will have often somw problems with a street that is gone, or a way that is away,or a road that is suddenly there. In any event, at Eindhoven a large road-sign says: ' SatNav off' to prevent people, obeying to the commanding voice of the navigation equipment, suddenly t5urn around, or try go drive straight through the crash barriers, altough there is clear 'detour' indicated. Fortunately there is still the 'manual TomTom' , namely the traffic signs above the way. I know that I have to go into the direction of the A67, and that I need to follow "Maasstricht" for know to find the exit to Eersel and Turnhout. And that is very tidy indicated, with thereby also the speed limitted to 70, 80 or 90 km/u. The traffic flows smoothly, and I leave the construction-zone at the junction to Turnhout and Eersel, point 'de Hogt'. Soon there is the exit to 'Eersel'. There leave I A67. I ride through Eersel, and after some turn left and right I am on the 'Postelseweg'. Exactly where I want to be, and nicely on time also. | |
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The 'Postelseweg' is a 60km/h road. It is a little bit slow, until
all of the sudden the speed-limit goes up to a more normal 80km/h.
And some minutes later, entering Belgium, I may go as fast as 90km/h.
Now I am gettint somewhere. I follow the TomTom-route, wich is partial
the same route that Jan had given. Then I get to the 'Silverlake',
wich make me think of Winnetou and Old Shatterhand. There was someting
with cowboys and indians and a treasuere in a Silverlake, if I recall correctly.
Anyway, I get to another point, the Baileybridge across the Schelde Maas channel.
This one is one of the last 100% original bridges remaining from the second world war. and therefore a historical landmark. | |
 ... Bailey brug ... picture by Joeri El Hazimi | |
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If the traffic lights permits, I go across the bridge, but the road
on the other side is so terrible, by use of those special Belgian stones, that
I don't think about making a picture, but have to focus on keeping
the right side of my "Rascal" up. Horrible, such a road. It feels
like my CX is falling apart in its compoments.
Just a few kilometres further, according to the TomTom. I guess it knows the way. And indeed, after seen again another small chapell i get to my destination. I only have to find the right house, but I think it has to be the one where all those Honda CX bikes are parked. One minut after six I arrive, and place the Red Rascal between the other bikes. Now, where is everybody? | |
 ... a lot of CX's ... | |
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Jan comes to greet me, and indicate where the others are. Behind the
garage stands a group CX-rijders quietly, enjoying a Belgian beer.
For some the stupefaction is large that I an here also, others had already
read it on the site of the club. But the reception is none the less warmly.
I take my gear from the motorxcycle, in to the garage, and put myself
behind a large glass with water, just to recover a bit and to take some
looks around. Into the back-yard temporarely camp-site "Less Deux Pneux"
is situated. Someone is still quickly putting up his tentj, but most of then
are already ready. I have no tent with me, but will use garage that is
refashioned to act as a dormitory.
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 ... "Les Deux Pneux" ... |
 ... Belgium beer ... |
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Behind the large garage Jan and Wilma have a real pizza oven. It is
heating up since early that afternoon. So, when the time for the
barbeqeu is there, it is also Pizza time. A large crowd get around Jan,
as he explains the fine art of making a pizza. Good for us, the dough
is ready, and now the real, task begins. Spread out, and create a nice,
thin bottom, about the size of a CX brake-disk. Next is the sauce, and
after that, whatever you want. The first pizza's are entering the oven, and
the next customers are already waiting. I manage to get a small dough-ball
into a pizza shape, add saus, unions, tomatoes and more onto it. The
pizza to be goes in the oven, and after some time I am rewarded with
a very hot, but delicious pizza.
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 ... making a pizza ... |
 ... pizza ... |
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After the meal, what was tasty and abundance, there is time for a drink,
and some talking. But first I take a look if tehre is a place for me to
sleep. Jan has a large garage, what can bge used as a dormitory. It is
a very large garage, with all that you need to work on motorcycles,
includint a smal stove, for when it is realy cold outside.
That's not a bad idea, because the temperature can drop way down the two digit numbers in September. I ask if Jan is willing to put on the stove for me, and he does. The iron stove get a few large lump of wood and start purring like a kitten. With some luck, when I go to sleep tonignt, I will have a fairly warm bedroom. I'm not the only one that uses tis bedroom, Terry and JJJopost also find a place in the garage. There's plenty of room, we wil not be cramped together. | |
 ... sleeping place ... | |
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Until late that evening, or early into the night, it is nice,
here on "Les Deux Pneux". The warmth, still radiating from the
pizza-oven is completed by a fire in a fire-basjket, and all
are having a very good time. Big stories come, and motor stories and 'do you
remember when we' stories. CX techical, SJK, and Vechta, what are
you doing next year, in short, it's a very pleasant evening.
But, around half past eleven, when I have drink number x in my hand, I suddenly notice that the table, where I lean upon, is tilting, and all the other people are tilting too. I know this, it's not an earthquake or something like that, it's a warning sign from my head. Dizzyness means that I must find my sleeping bag, and the sooner the better. Whitin a few minutes I lay down, I notice just that someone put's down the light, and that some CX-ers, worried, check me out. But than I fall asleep, a very deep sleep. | |
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The next morning, when i open the door of the garage and step outside
I notice that there is someting wrong. Yesterday, in the evening,
when I went to sleep, it was fairly pleasant wheather, but now the sky
is grey, it's foggy, there a slight rain and it is so cold.
In front of the pizza-oven I find two opf the tent-sleepers, warming
themselves on the heat that is stil radiating from the oven.
It was cold, this night. It still ins not so very warm, and I am a
bit hungry, but breakfast is not until half past eight.
But last night, before I took of for bed, I snatched two cookies from
a plate, and I use them now to bridge the time between now and breakfast time.
Some orange jus, and that will do for a while.
The breakfast is about a half hour later. Coffee, thee, bread, scrambled eggs, cheese, it al comes onto a large table, until it is impossible to place anything else on it. Jan and Wilma have done there very best to makes sure that everybody can get enough. And there is enough, bread, cheese, coffe, the Dutch-CX-ers know what to do with it. This breakfats is, just like the dinner of last evening, fabulous. Another bread, another cup of coffee..... | |
 ... all on one big table ... |
 ... breakfast ... |
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But we did not come here to fill ourselves with all that delicious
food, but to ride the Flemisch tour on our motors. The most of clouds
are drifting away, and the time comes to start with the ride. Besides
those who have spent the night on the camp-site there are also
others, so that we finally, as someone expresses itself, are with
"21 motorcycles and a BMW". All that beautiful metal can line itself up
across the street, from where we will leave.
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 ... line up ... | |
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The ride-out starts with a ride to the automatic fuel pump in Rosselaar.
There we can fill up our fuel-tanks, and we can pay by bank-card, or cash.
Of course my very-really-Dutch card doesn't work, therefore I need to
pay cash, and for a certain amount of maney I get a fixed quantity of petrol.
That seems a fancy system, but it messes up my usage-diagram completly.
By refuelling each time to the top of the fuel tank, and taking notes of the
quantities, it is possible to watch over the fuel the CX consumes. If
the usage increases suddenly there must something wrong, is my idea.
But now that complete system must be put asided. Cumbersome, and I get
a bit nervous about it.
Because if I refuel not enough then perhaps I have not enough for the rest of the ride and if I refuel to much then it does flows over the tank onto the ground and if I nevertheless refuel then ..... Fortunately Coen come to help me, and the "Red Rascal" gets petrol for 10 euro. If that is enough? Who knows. Now everyone has refuelled we can start with the ride. The route runs along and by typical Belgian villages, along lawns and lands with corn that could have stood in the Netherlands, and along bach-roads which in Belgium seems to be ordinary is, but for our Dutch minds nevertheless always looks strangely. We make turn after turn, and soon I anm totally lost. It is not an undivided enjoy for me, because I sit diligently to calculate when my next tank top must be, because I did not set the trip meter on 'nul' what should mean a full tankst. But somewhere between 300 and 350 I need to refuel again, I guess, however, at that point there is still about 50 km left in the reserve tank. But, we are in Belgium for the ride out. And that has now started. Thus the attention is kept on the rod. We take corner after corner, sometimes a long piece straight-on, then a mish-mesh of streets and back-roads. This is the "Kempen", according to a couple of road-signs which I see, and just a while later we are in (Belgian) Limburg. I don't know where I am, but it looks nice here. But then, all of a sudden, we drive along a spot which I know! Once my father had a house in Belgium, somewhere in the naberhood of Neerpelt. For a long time I had no idea where exactly, but now, now while riding on a Sunday afternoon with the Dutch-CX-club through Belgium, while riding over the Ekselseweg in Klein-Brogel, we pass that very house. I am not the only one that is lost during this ride. It becomes clear when we overtake a group of cyclists (yes, it remains Belgium). We are on a narrow, already not to good asphalt road. Jan, on the first CX-Motor, which should have know better, signals left and takes the turn. Not strange, because we have done a left turn already dozens of times. Right turns also, to be exact. But this time is it mere a wagontrack were we with out twenty-two motor-cycles arrive arrive. Two hundred meters onwards the way ends, at the drive-way of a house. Wrong turn, that much is clear. It takes some effort for all the motorcycles to turn on that small road, but we succeed. When we are all together again, on the 'mainroad, we ride to the correct junction, wich is just 250 meters down the road. It is still ten more kilometres to the first stop, beer-cafe "The Middelpunt". The wide parking place becomes filled with motors, and now firstly I have to find a toilet ........ | |
 ... filled with motorcycles ... | |
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After this necessary break it is time for some coffee, or something else.
For me it will be coffee, and we can recover from turning left and right.
But if everyone is rested, the coffee has been paid, and the toilet has
had a short visit, we can move on.
Moving on we do, but where doid we go? I onluy can remerber a splendid turn in a slanting road, with on both sides a wall. Behind the hillock a splendid piece of nature, and left and right more and more sudden panoramas, which were already gone before the eye could fix on it, so that only the impression "how beautifull" stays behind without being able to connect it with a certain piece of road. | |
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Unpleasant are the many short rain-showers that remarkably enough stops
if we stop, and just as happy go on if we do. As if there is someone
playing a game with us. For myself it is not such a probleme, because
the Polaris fairing keeps a lot of rain, but for the ones without a
windscreen or fairing it is not pleasant at all, I guess.
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Around two o'clock I get the feeling that is is time to head for
Balen. There are, behind the locked garage door, my things . Also a
place for a lunch would be a good idea. I looks loke that Jan has simular
thoughts, because he stop at an Irich Pub named "Dubh-Linn", just
ouitside Langdorp.
The whole platoon motoriders puts their engines on the side or centerstand, takes off jackets and concuers an spot on the terrace. Motorcycles in the sun, motorriders in the shade. And now we want something to eat. But no. Althought the "irisch Pub" was well known far around, and the beers and other spritual fluids were famous in beer-loving Flanders, a lunch? No. not possible. | |
 ... Irisch Pub "Dubh-Linn" ... |
 ... in the shade ... |
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Many have already ordered coffee or else, so we stay here for a while.
Not to long for the waiter tells us that, down the road, not to far
from here, there is the "Rutgershof" and sure we can find a lunch
over there.
OK, if that is the case, we go further. It takes a while before we all are in the saddle agin, but off we go, to the "Rutgershof" were there may be a lunch for us. But, to bad, there is a sign that says "Volzet" and that mean "fully booked". Next place, maybe we get lucky somewhere. But first Jan stops again at one of those terrible fully automatic gas stations. Allright, Lets fill it up. I put ten Euro in and get a lot of fuel. And this time it is about half a litre more than the tank can hold. Again, not a succes. But the tank is now totalluy full and the trip mater can be reset to zero. The next stop is not far, because a number of kilometres further Jan stops again. It is a 'frituur-eethuis', where he stops. Here at last, we can have that necessary lunch that is for some of us way overdue. The upheaval inside, the crowd and noise, made me feel uneasy, and I must step outside to find some rest. But well, after that, with the aid of a good friend, I managed to get and eat a real Belgian "frietje". But now we went fairly direct to Balen. Eenhout, Meerhout, and were there was Balen already. I put CX at the front of the driveway, easy to get away. Now first I have to load my stuff onto the CX. I also give Coen some advice, because the luggage rack on the "Old Red" has the inclination for sinking deeper and deeper over the rear wheel. The rear-tyre shows already tracks of mudguard wear, and the innerside of the mudguard has also some wearing marks. Not good. And as is already often seen, within a few minutes four, five men stood around, with good advice, tools, solutions. | |
 ... four or five people ... | |
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For me the time to leave has come. All my stuff was packed onto the CX,
and I started a 'goodbye-round'. I thanked Jan and Wilma extensivly
for all the good care that weekend, wished Coen and Michael a 'bon voyage',
and told them to greet Like and Maria, and drove away.
Back to holland. Ah, the voyage went well, the best part of the trip was well known, and when I crossed the Belgium-Dutch border all the rain, that was teasing me now and then, was left behind in Belgium. Using the A2 and A58 I turne around Eindhoven again, to the A50. After that it was a short stretch of road on the A12, and I was at home, just in time for a warm and delicious cup of tomatosoup...... | |
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