Distance	Elapsed Time	Moving Time	Average Speed	Max Speed	Elevation Gain	Calories Burned
311 km	12:45 hours	11:43 hours	26.54 km/h	41.81 km/h	130 m	5,415 kcal

🚣🐟🌦️Zwolle – Scharsterbrug – Urk

4 August 2023

This week I used my legs instead of the train to kickstart my visit to another country: Friesland. Haha those Frisians wish! Well some of them would. 😁
I wanted to test myself today and see how I would fare when pausing less, and pushing on instead of sightseeing. That still would mean making regular stops to eat. I would not pull over uniquely for scenes that caught my eye—although I wasn’t strict and did stop for some. I sheltered for the rain two times in the morning and used the time to eat. In the end I still had 1 hour of down-time.

A long row of trees between Bunschoten and Nijkerk. The light on the horizon looked promising, but I would have to wait till after noon for some real sun.

Hit-and-miss: sheltering under the roof of a pizzeria in Oldebroek.

The route to Zwolle was a bit hit-and-miss. The first part to Putten was smooth rolling. After that the rain started and my planning was less than ideal, leading over smaller paths in the forest. I replanned to the main roads around Ermelo and Harderwijk as far as I could. In Zwolle a tunnel under the railroad was closed off with no clear directions for cyclists. When I did I was properly glad to leave city traffic and uneven road surfaces behind me.

The striking red railroad bridge across the IJssel to Zwolle.

Small streets in Zwolle and nice sights that tried to lure me into taking some more pictures. The church is the Thomaskerk that is part of the Dominicanenklooster. The wall painting depicts Johannes Cele after which the street is named, an education reformer from the 14th century.

I headed for Zwartsluis on a route east of the Overrijsselse Vecht and the Zwarte Water. After a break in the lovely sheltered Kadoelen I battled with the wind on the dykes. I passed beautiful towns like Blokzijl and Blankenham and entered Friesland. Not soon after I was welcomed by some vans doing a close pass and a large banner on a farm spotting the red Frisian seeblatts and the text in Dutch: ‘Do not mess with Frisian farmers! We are Viking descendants.’
It seems the further you go north in our country, the more agressive and impatient folk become.

In Streukel near the start of the Dedemsvaart: a canal between Hasselt and Gramsbergen.

I planned to refill my bottles in Echtenerbrug. Like Komoot predicted there was indeed a water tap next to the canal. It was for nautical purposes however, returning servings of 200 liter. Besides, the pump station it belonged to was closed permanently.

Like a diesel, I need time to gain momentum. This diesel pump in Echtenerbrug was closed and there was no tap water point.

I rounded the Tjeukemeer and landed in Schartserbrug on the most northern point of my trip. The part of the route to Sint Nicolaasga was rich with trees and little houses, in stark contrast to the scant Frisian fields before. Sint Nicolaasga is dominated by a large church and this afternoon was filled with busy traffic.

The desolate town of Lemmer was my ticket to the Noordoostpolder. Turning south the northwestern wind was mostly in my favour as I headed for the historic island of Urk that was incorporated when the polder was created in 1942.
The IJsselmeer to the west of the dyke still looks like a proper sea owing to the water shades and the surf. Then again, the double row of windmills here make the landscape look like an image out of a science-fiction film.
After passing into the Flevopolder I was in for another long headwind stretch before reaching Lelystad. After 255km finally another chance for a refill at the railway station. Another lesson learned: I should have gone for that cemetery in Baarlo at km 150. Fact is, there are much more water taps in the South. As if the climate differences were ever that big in this small country! They are not. It’s a difference in mentality. Or maybe it is just down to economics.

Straight lines and windmills on the dyke between Lemmer and Urk.

I was accompanied by the soundscape of breaking waves and wind. For miles I did not encounter anyone but some sheep.

Urk. From this side it still looks like the island it once was. The southern side is dominated by residential areas.

The Maxima Power Station near Lelystad. I wonder if our queen is at all honoured that the former Flevocentrale carries her name.

Luckily my jaunt to Almere was pretty sheltered from the wind. In Almere the rain fell again after a long spell of sunshine. Mounting some of the few vertical meters on my route—the path next to the railway leads over many bridges—I was overtaken by a guy on a geared city bike. That was somewhat logical since I had lowered my speed. What stood out was his outfit: only short pants, no shoes. He was happily speeding through the rain keeping a high cadence. His trained body was in a perfectly upright position, seemingly not bothered by the headwind. Most striking though was his wig: his blonde dreadlocks created a wide rug that reached to his buttocks. Was he a Viking maybe?
I rode behind him for a few minutes, then let him go in the more technical turns. I reached him again at the traffic lights before the bridge to Muiderberg. He sped off again and stayed in front, until I passed him after the bridge on a long stretch that favoured aero benefits rather than climbing or technicality. Or maybe his training was just over. 😉 It kept on raining but I was almost home where dinner was waiting. 😺