Probably the last warm weather weekend of the year had to be taken advantage of. A bike trip in the autumn orange light, through forests of bright red and yellow leaved trees, their colours raining on me down as I cycled past. A 315 km trip from Eindhoven to Münster in Germany.

The plan was to cycle with Volker (who joined me on some of my cycle trip in Norway this summer) from his parent’s house in Rheine to Münster: the bicycle Mecca of Germany. On Saturday I put my head down and aimed at maximum kilometres in order to amble to Rheine on Sunday by noon, and then to Münster on Sunday afternoon.

I left Eindhoven on Saturday at 06:30 in the dark and headed north east. It was an overcast day as I cycled through the cow studded fields, and through the bright red forests with the trees shedding their leaves.

The bright red of the autumn forests

The bright red of the autumn forests


Enschede in the Netherlands was my distant destination, and I made it just before nightfall at 1830.

But Sunday was the gem of the trip. Starting misty, the autumn day turned sunny, warm and perfect. The mid afternoon light made highlighted beautiful contrasts in the forest and river surroundings. As the afternoon turned into evening, and the light softened to its mellow departure, the colours became rich and orange. What a lovely light to experience this beautiful nature.

Me near the Ems River

Me near the Ems River

The Ems River

The Ems River

The Ems River

The Ems River

Orange tree in the mellow late afternoon light

Orange tree in the mellow late afternoon light

Cycling in the soft evening ilght

Cycling in the soft evening ilght

Münster

Münster


Planning (at least the first draft of) the exact cycle route is an important part of the overall planning of a long distance cycle trip. Just ‘following your nose’ leads you to main, busy roads. Insider secrets remain secrets.

In the summer of 2013 I intend to cycle from where I live in Eindhoven, the Netherlands, to the North Cape, via the Baltic Countries. I have put together a planned route which is made up of documented biking routes, collected from a range of different sources. I have collected this route in gpx format which can be viewed on my iPhone.

Here, I would like to list the biking route sources, and how to concatenate such routes to the ‘mother plan’ route.

Sources of the cycle route

Netherlands

The Netherlands has a great infrastructure for cycling. There is a dense network of signed bike paths that connect numbered ‘nodes’ throughout the country. Each node is between 1 and 10 km apart, and from each node, there are signposted routes to each of the neighbouring nodes. There is a bike route planning website which calculates suggested routes between any nodes that you specify. I used this to calculate a route from my house to the start of the German section of the R1 bike path which I will follow most of the way to Tallinn in Estonia.

Germany

I generated the route crossing Germany using the cool bike route planner Naviki. Many thanks to Oskar from the Polish cycling forum for his tips for Mecklenburg Vorpommern.

This route replaced my original route following the R1 bike path
– a long distance bike path from Bolougne in France to St. Petersburg in Russia. The German leg of this bike path (along with a huge number of cycle paths across Europe) is available in gpx format on the Lonvia ‘bike overlay’ to the OpenStreetMap open source map project. Simply scroll to the area of interest and click on ‘Routen’ to see a list of the paths displayed on the map. A gpx file can be downloaded for each of these maps.

Poland, Kalingrad, Lithuania

In Poland I will follow the EuroVelo 10 bike path. I found the route for this on bikemap.net. Many thanks to Pawel and the people on the Polish cycling forum for helping me out here.

After following the coast to Gdansk, I will make my way to the R1 cycle route which can be downloaded from the Lonvia bike overlay as described in the German section. The Polish section is not completely covered, though. I used the gpx files which are from Detlef Kaden. This book/CD combination is excellent, giving route information, as well as info on things to see, accommodation, and visa information for the Kalingrad Russian enclave.

Latvia

For Latvia, I used a combination of gpx files from Detlef Kaden (see Poland section), as well as cycling routes from the Lonvia OpenStreetMap overlay (see the German section). See the section below on how the information from these two sources was concatenated.

Estonia

For Estonia, I used routes from the Lonvia OpenStreetMap overlay (see the German section).

Finland

Eurovelo is a planned network of long distance cycle paths crossing from one side of Europe to the other. There are 14 planned routes, which are shown here. The routes are in different levels of completion. For most routes, there is no information available at all. For the Finnish sections, there is detailed information given in the form of google maps. I downloaded these routes and converted them into gpx to add to my overall route. (I describe this conversion below.)

Sweden

The Swedish leg is part of the ‘Cykelspåret längs ostkusten’. The gpx files for this can be downloaded here. These gpx files outline a path up the coast. When the coast is left at the top of the Baltic sea, there as so few roads, I figured that no special attention needs to be paid to look for small cycling roads. I used google maps to create the paths from here up to the Norwegian border. (Converting google maps to gpx is described below.)

Norway

In Norway I will follow the ‘Sun route’ as described in the Lonvia overlay for OpenStreetMap (see German section).

Converting and merging gpx files

When cycling, I use EveryTrail to track my trip, as well as to follow the planned route. EveryTrail uses gpx files.

To create the ‘mother’ route, stored in gpx file format, I concatenated individual gpx files. This concatenation is described here.

Here is an instruction video of how to convert google maps (kml) files to gpx file.

Sometimes I only wanted a piece of the path contained in a gpx file. I did the editing by hand, joining two gpx files at the correct place by matching the latitude and longitude coordinates to find where the paths cross.

Eindhoven Marathon 2012

Posted: October 14, 2012 in Running
Tags: , , ,

The marathon is a 42 km mind game. After 35 km, when the carbohydrates in the body are gone, the body is screaming out to stop. And you need to go on. You have come this far. This happens every time. The end is murder. And the finish line is sweet.

Route of the Eindhoven Marathon

Route of the Eindhoven Marathon

I enrolled for the Eindhoven marathon at the start of the year when it was far away on a distant horizon. My training was a bit patchy. I went on lots of very long runs on the weekends (between 25 and 37km), but didn’t do enough basis training during the week. I hardly ran at all in the last two weeks, pausing to let some back pain get better. I had a bit of a stomach bug for the last few days, too. So: for the first time I went to run in the marathon without expecting to run under 4 hours. I would run at the speed that felt right. I was prepared to stop if it was clear that the stomach bug hadn’t gone. This lack of self-imposed stress meant that I slept well. The weather was fantastic for a marathon: 13C and cloudy. The stage was set.

The famous lumberjack jacket as my mascot.

The famous lumberjack jacket as my mascot.

Before the start.

Before the start.

km 4: The start was not crowded and I had the space to run at my speed. I soon found it to be 5:46 per km. Fine. I passed a building with the temperature indicated. 11C. And it was cloudy. Perfect.

km 10: The mind starts making big plans for what the final time is going to be. At this rate I will be a tick over 4 hours, but might make my best time of 4:03:57. My heart rate monitor is not working so I run on feeling. I feel fine! No sign of the stomach bug.

km 16: The sun has come out, but I am running in the green leafy shade on the dead straight Oirschotsedijk. Keeping the speed of 5:46. Looking good. I dance with the music as I pass the music stands.

km 18: Zwaanstraat. Everyone is pushed to the left of the road. A Kenyan was going to lap us. A thin stick figure sprints past. I briefly toyed with the idea of trying to run with him for 50m or so. I didn’t. A complete waste of energy, and I probably wouldn’t be able to anyway. He was amazingly fast. He ended up running the marathon in 2:05.

km 21: Half marathon in just over 2 hours. Feeling good to run the second half. I start thinking: if I could just run at 5:30 per km I could make the marathon in under 4 hours. Maybe this time I could run the second half faster than the first. Now that I didn’t push too much at the beginning. I decide to wait until about km 30 to see how I feel then. The speed of 5:46 per km is maintained.

km 25: The sun is out. I pass the building with the thermometer. 14C. The first signs of people starting to walk. I still feel fine.

km 30: I am not going to increase the speed. But, the 5:46 per km is still possible. Just 12 km to go. I can start to feel the energy seeping away, but still feel ok. I start calculating what is needed to run under 4:03:57. I can’t do too precise calculations, though. The brain is switching off, as is the rest of the body. All energy is going into running.

km 35: Oirschotsedijk: Energy gone. The speed has slipped to 6:30 per km. I’m still OK, but a record is not going to happen. No worries. That wasn’t what I expected anyway. Let’s just finish this in a reasonable time.

km 38: Man, this is awful. What am I doing here? I shuffle along at 7:00 per km and stop for the odd walk. Walking is not much slower than running. People start to pass me. I am approaching the centre of Eindhoven where the masses are watching. I stop at the drink stops and drink and drink. And then I shuffle forward. Only 4 km to go. It feels like an eternity.

km 40: In the centre. I have run through the gauntlet of people cheering. I try to find the quieter places to walk. My body needs to stop, and it feigns it needs a toilet break. Desperately. There is a bar with the door opened wide. Welcoming. All tricks of the mind. I shuffle forward. The 4:15 pace setters have past me. My time will be slower than 4:15. I’m not bothered. Let’s just finish this.

The Matthew shuffle.

The Matthew shuffle.

km 42: The last km is signposted 1000m, 750m, 500m, 100m. Each of those signposts feels like they are a whole km apart. I can’t even shuffle forward without stopping between them. Then the finish comes. I stop. I have made it. The time was 4:19:47. And I am content.


Updating some of my earlier bike trips. This was a beautiful ride in the sun in central Italy in 2002.

The trip southwards continued in 2002. Having made it to Pisa in 2001, this year I cycled with Frank Thiele southwards to Napoli.

Pisa – Naples 2002

Pisa is a hot spot for tourists. It is a lovely little village with the leaning tower and a host of other old buildings clustered together in the tourist area. Before we started on the adventure southwards, we needed the standard ‘we were here’ photo.

Starting point: The leaning tower of Pisa.

Starting point: The leaning tower of Pisa.

We followed the cycling route from Amsterdam to Rome by Benjaminse. It took us along gorgeous country roads in Tuscany. Rolling hills with beautiful old houses dotted on the crests, cyprus trees, and beautiful little villages. Tuscany is my highlight of all of Italy. Simply a stunning place.

Tuscany

Tuscany

Tuscany

Tuscany

Tuscany

Tuscany

Tuscany

Tuscany

Tuscany

Tuscany

Traveling with Frank, I learned that it was actually more pleasant cycling fewer kilometres, not the shortest route, and stopping on the way. With less testosterone in my blood as when I started cycling, without anything to prove, I realised that I didn’t need to cycle 200+km in a day. We could stop in beautiful little villages and sit in the sun. We could stop early and stay the night if it was a nice place. So, we visited some nice villages.

In the sun

In the sun

Bagnoregio is a charming town perched on a hilltop, surrounded by a city wall. In the middle of the beautiful, sundrenched landscape of central Italy.

Bagnoregio

Bagnoregio

And the landscape was flowered, this time in startling purple.

Purple

Purple

Purple

Purple

We skirted around Rome. Big cities are not very easy to navigate through, and it takes ages to get through them. We stopped at Tivoli to the east of Rome, and decided to plan in a rest day. Frank stayed around in Tivoli, and I caught the train in to Rome to do the tourist things.

Colosseum

Colosseum

After Rome, our planned route ended. Not having a recommended route means that you tend to end up on bigger roads, and pass through less pretty places. We followed the coast. We stopped one evening at the beach town of Sperlonga.

Frank in Sperlonga.

Frank in Sperlonga.

The coast leading into Naples was busy and ugly. Naples itself is an amazing, throbbing city. On cycling through Naples, I put on my yellow sunglasses, and somehow got an energy boost. I felt part of the bustling traffic. The cutting in and out of traffic. The tooting and waving of arms. I bounced down the cobblestone streets ringing my bell, living the moment.

We set up camp in Pompeii. This was the end of our journey. Our flight was booked a few days later. We had some time to cycle around the place. We cycled up Vesuvio one day (but took the metro to the base of the mountain to avoid the bouncy cobblestone streets). Another day we cycled along the Amalfi coast. The Naples area is gorgeous. The trip was continued in 2003.

Pompeii

Pompeii

On the way up Vesuvio

On the way up Vesuvio

The bike

The bike

The Amalfi coast

The Amalfi coast

Walking on Vlieland

Posted: September 9, 2012 in Hiking
Tags: , , ,

Vlieland is my favourite place in the Netherlands. An island of sand in the far north of the country, it offers peace and tranquility. There, I am at one, alone, with the elements.

The road to the west stops half way down the island. That is where the expanse of sand starts, and where the people stop. An amazing wide, white beach, punctuated by sandhills in the interior, rising from the sand expanse, covered with reedy grass and home to huge colonies of birds.

The vast sandy expanse

The vast sandy expanse

The expanse is a military area that is open to all on the weekends. A military tower, checkered in yellow and black, watches over the entrance to the sandy plains. Behind the tower, hidden behind the first sandhills are dilapidated tanks: they are now little more than a brittle cocoon of rust. Dotted over the plains are watch towers and little wooden huts that are military targets.

Rusty tank

Rusty tank

At the far end of the island is the ‘reddingshuis’: a white hut perched on high stilts, fenced off by logs and buoys and anything that has been washed up in the tide. Around it are  vast plains of sandy nothingness. On the opposite side of the sand flat, at the end of the island, is a wooden jetty, extending across the sand, and three metres above it, out to the sea.

Reddingshuis in the distance

Reddingshuis in the distance

Reddingshuis

Reddingshuis

The jetty at the end of Vlieland

The jetty at the end of Vlieland

On the sand flat I feel alone. It is peaceful, it is vast, it is beautiful, and I am there in the middle of it. Noone comes here. Noone walks more than 500m from the road. The tide comes in and the tide goes out. Parts can be boggy or firm. It can be still or there can be a howling wind. Nicest is the weather like today. A clear sky, and the sands lit by the golden orb in the sky. You can see for miles. And all you see is sand. A dot on the horizon is a target. Another dot on the horizon is the hut. Another is a watch tower. But they are all far away. In between is sand. Silence. And noone.

The distance

The distance

Footprints in the sand

Footprints in the sand

Not watching TV

Not watching TV

Military tower

Military tower

The morning light makes everything different. On my morning run, I saw the sun rise behind the sand dunes. The air is crisp with a hint of moisture and dew. Vlieland is beautiful whenever you look at it.

The morning light

The morning light

The morning light

The morning light

Maaien

Maaien

The heart of Vlieland

The heart of Vlieland

Vlieland

Vlieland


I have now created a summary video of my cycle trip from Bodø to Nordkapp. Check it out!

YouTube video of the Bodø - Nordkapp 2012 cycle trip

YouTube video of the Bodø – Nordkapp 2012 cycle trip


In 2012 I cycled from Bodø to the North Cape (Nordkapp), a total of 1330 km, completing my bike tour of Norway started with Ed in 1997, when we cycled from Tønsberg to Oslo, and then to Bodø.

It was a spectacular trip. What were my highlights? There were many. Here are my top 4.

Highlight 1: The team of 4 met on the boat, and cycled together on the magical island of Senja. The weather was perfect, and our wild camping place on our own private fjord was spectacular. We bathed in the midnight sun.
Highlight 2: I climbed the almost vertical wall behind the village of Reine on the Lofoten islands to experience the most exquisite panorama. Moskenesøya at midnight.
Highlight 3: Skirting the northern coast on Austvågøya on the Lofoten islands on the way to Fiskebøl. Majestic mountains, fjords and serene tranquility.
Highlight 4: Arriving at the North Cape (Nordkapp). It was windy. It was cold. It was barren. And it was spectacular. I had made it. What a feeling!

Here is a day by day summary of the trip. I am interested to know which parts you likes. Click on like or rate on the individual day posts to let me know! 🙂

Day 0. To start in Moskenes Surrounded by pointy mountains and beautiful blue sky I set up my tent in Moskenes. Then I climb to the top of a peak above the town of Reine to experience the most exquisite panorama. Moskenesøya at midnight.
Day 1. Moskenes – Ørsnesvika. 131km The south of the islands are bathed in sun, the north in cloud, and I alternate between the two. Every turn reveals a new panorama.
Day 2. Ørsnesvika – Stokmarknes. 100kmSun, pointed peaks, fjords and tranquility. A highlight of the trip following the coast on Austvågøya island.
Day 3. Stokmarknes – Frøskeland. 73 km Cycling along the quiet north road on Langøya. I couch surfed with the lovely Svein near Sortland.
Day 4. Frøskeland – Andernes. 127 km The beautiful Andøya island was bathed in low hanging cloud. No midnight sun cycle, but ghostly scenery of pointy mountains in the mist.
Day 5. Andernes – Ersfjord. 80 km The team of 4 cycle along fjords, up steep long valleys, through tunnels into the wild and absolutely breathtaking scenery of Senja island. Wild camping on our own private fjord, we bathe in the midnight sun.
Day 6. Ersfjord – Tromsø. 94 km An early morning ride across Senja with not a soul around. Goal is Tromsø, and a hotel with curtains. After an afternoon sleep, I see the midnight sun looking out from above over Tromsø.
Day 7. Tromsø – Fosslv. 131 km. Rain as I cycle the road I passed in the winter with Dad and Valerie. A race against the clock to catch a ferry. An afternoon of amazing threatening clouds hanging low over the mountains. And no more rain.
Day 8. Fosselv – Alta. 161 km Mountain passes and a long road along the fjord. 50 metres up and 50 metres down, 30 metres up and 30 metres down. All the way to Alta. Exhausting. And then another broken spoke. The spoke problem is now serious.
Day 9. Alta. 40 km No bike mechanics in Alta, and my spoke replacements aren’t doing the job. An attempt to leave Alta failed, and I return, dejected, not knowing what to do next.
Day 10. Alta (car: Hammerfest). 11 km A car hired, 130 km driven, and a new wheel bought in the northerly town of Hammerfest. The bike is now OK to continue.
Day 11. Alta – Repvåg. 153 km. High tundra plain and windy coastal road. The North Cape is approaching!
Day 12. Repvåg – Nordkapp – Honningsvåg. 118 km The Nordkapp tunnel, and then a windy, hilly, chilly, and beautiful slog to the North Cape with Chris. Goal achieved! I am happy!
Day 13. Honningsvåg. 0 km Down day in Honningsvåg. Cups of tea, talks with Chris, and a 50 metre dash through the rain to the supermarket.
Day 14. Honningsvåg – Kjøllefjord – Mehamn. 39 km Journey in the grey to the Nordkyn peninsula. A bleak, barren and windswept place. Beautiful!
Day 15. Mehamn – Slettnes – Kjøllefjord. 72 km The most northern lighthouse on mainland europe. Another broken spoke, and a drenching, cold, windy return towards Kjøllefjord.

I love hiking. I love disappearing into the wilderness and existing there, amongst it all, miles from anywhere. Pack on my back and out there in the elements. Through sun and rain, raging wind and serene tranquility. Nature is big, ever present, graceful, wild, and happy.

I love the arctic. There is nature at its most raw. Rocky, barren landscapes etched out by creaking glaciers, creeping slowly down mountains slopes over the millennia. In previous summers I hiked in arctic Canada, Iceland and Finland.

In 2012 I joined the High Places 10 day hike of Svalbard. Our group met at Longyearbyen on Svalbard, to be whisked away from civilization to the self erected base camp on Petunia Bukt. From there we did single and multiple day hikes across glaciers and ice sheets, through bogs, across glacial streams, up mountains, and to deserted Russian mining towns.

I have written a blog on the amazing trip which is summarized here:


Our trip is really over. We dismantled the base camp: took down all the tents and packed everything into the metal containers that were used for transporting on the boat. Our boat pick-up was originally planned for 16:00, but we were told that the boat would arrive between 14:00 and 15:00. We were ready very early and went to hang out in the warmth in the czech hut. It was very cold outside, and we were lovely and warm in the hut. We played cards to while away the time.

We returned to the beach where we were going to get picked up. And then the waiting started. Our eyes were peeled on the horizon, waiting to be whisked away out of the cold. The boat didn’t arrive. It was a bit choppy, and there was speculation that the boat couldn’t make it. Sam told stories of the boat arriving, only to stay 50 m off shore and phone saying that they couldn’t land. It has happened before.

The boat still didn’t arrive. We opened up the spare supplies box and rummaged around. We found a bag of nice muesli: different to the muesli we had had the last 9 days. A welcome change. We chomped through that. Then some biscuits were extracted from the box. And lots of hot chocolate.

It was very cold. I was wearing everything I had, and did some taekwondo moves to keep warm. Sam started a fire. It didn’t give off any heat, though. We put the metal storage boxes together to form a wind shield and Lisa pulled out her sleeping bag and crawled into it behind the metal boxes. I lay behind the shield on the rocks beside her.

Then some of the czech crowd dropped past on the way to their scientific experiment.

Waiting on the cold beach

Waiting on the cold beach

Then finally the boat arrived. We put on the super warm moon suits, and were whisked back to civilization.

Longyearbyen meant warm showers. It meant fresh clothes. It meant nice food. It meant warmth.

We had our debriefing meal in a lovely restaurant before Sam took us on a pub crawl. We walked from one pub to the next, walking through the daylight in the depths of the night between bars. Our night ended in the local disco ‘Huset’, that, until 01:00 is a high quality restaurant. Then it miraculously transforms into a small town disco. There, we danced the night away.

Huset after the transformation.

Huset after the transformation.

Somewhat the worse for wear, we returned to our lodge at 03:00. The alarm went at 05:00 to pack, have breakfast and head off to the airport. Goodbye Svalbard. Goodbye Norway. One of the greatest holidays I have ever had was coming to an end.

My bike, my luggage and myself all arrived at Amsterdam Schiphol airport in one piece. Back from the trip of a life time.

Safe and sound back in the Netherlands

Safe and sound back in the Netherlands

Svalbard Day 9. 03.08.2012

Posted: August 23, 2012 in Hiking
Tags: , , ,

If felt like the trip was coming to an end. Our planned 12 hour night turned into a 14 hour night. It had drizzled all night, and the usual low hanging clouds greeted anyone who cared to glance out of the tent. Breakfast was slow. We wanted to climb to the top of the 1000m high mountain directly behind the camp for a wonderful 360 degree view over ice sheets, glaciers and fjords. We knew that the view at 1000m would be of damp, thick, white cloud.

We finally left and zig-zagged up an old mining path until, in no time, we hit the height of the clouds. Time for the photos. They would not get any better than this.

Petunia Bukt

Petunia Bukt

The glacier opposite the campsite

The glacier opposite the campsite

The leftovers of the mining past

The leftovers of the mining past

We skirted along the side of the mountain for a way trying to get different views of some kind, and ended up directly above the czech station. It was a fun scree slope dash down to the warmth of their hut. We invited them to our bonfire that evening: our last on Petunia Bukt.

The bonfire gave us a task: something to prepare for. We spent the evening sawing logs that had been washed up from Siberia, and preparing the bonfire. It got colder and colder, and there was no sign of the czechs. In the end, I went to bed, only to hear them arrive minutes later – 4 of them. I rose again for an hour or so, and we all huddled around the fire. It was freezing cold, and even the becherovka could not warm me up. Before long, I decided it was really 10 pm for me, and I went to bed.

Bear watch several hours later was a COLD affair. My last bear watch on Svalbard.

While in the clouds, I took photos of everyone. The High Places Svalbard 2012 group. We were now a real team, bonded from our experiences over the last week.

Sam was our guide. A lovely outdoor guy, who led us safely and enjoyably through the week. A real Mr fix-anything with some wire and his amazing multifunction pliers.

Sam

Sam

Steve, a real Aussie from Melbourne. An endless source of energy. ‘It’s all good!’

Steve

Steve

Gordon. The scot with the lovely accent. A lot of hiking stories, and someone to share my mathematical formulations of sun movement, and the sun dial.

Gordon

Gordon

Ben. Another Aussie, living in London. Very philosophical.

Ben

Ben

Lisa. A lawyer from London. Also a runner with lots of marathon training strategies.

Lisa

Lisa

And moi.

Moi

Moi