Distance	Elapsed Time	Moving Time	Average Speed	Max Speed	Elevation Gain	Calories Burned
355 km	14:45 hours	13:25 hours	26.46 km/h	43.34 km/h	287 m	5,816 kcal

🌫️🏆☀️Venlo – Emmerich – Arnhem

18 August 2023

A foggy morning turned into a sun-drenched afternoon while I set out to increase my longest ride distance. As I left home in the dark the air was moist and it felt like it could start raining any moment. My bar tape was even slippery. Partly probably through last week’s sweat that would not evaporate in the damp atmosphere. At sunrise the sky was positively mirky and dark.
In Den Bosch I followed the Zuid-Willemsvaart until Helmond. At one point there were men working on the road. Only after I crossed a metal gutter I realized they were painting stripes. One of them shouted ‘you passed right through it!’, and indeed, I had two white elongated dots on my tires. ‘Bloody wielrenners’, they must have thought. My thought: why didn’t they just put up a barrier? I finally stopped to have a look and removed the gum-like paint.

At km 120 in Helmond I wondered why the route was so involved, already cursing Komoot. Then I remembered I had planned to refill my water here at the railway station. Just in case. Obviously there was no need because it was still early and it wasn’t warm at all.
After Deurne I entered the Peel, bogland characterized by canals and long straight roads. Many bog in the Netherlands is drained to allow for agriculture and building: as the groundwater level is lowered the ground sinks with it. Like a Pollock painting, part of the road I took was marked by a myriad of black tar repairs.

The headwind had been constant but not very strong. As I reached Venlo the low clouds turned into fog. Not that the view across the Maas at the railway bridge is much better in sunlight. It’s just not her best leg that Venlo puts forward here. I passed the station, refilled a bottle and ate a muffin. The last time I was here the station plaza was an example of cleanliness. Today there were three security vans on the pavement just below the stairs and the bicycle stands further down were a complete havoc.
After some searching I found the way out of Venlo along the Weselseweg. Funny actually how the cycling path changes across the border: on the Dutch side, uneven narrow stripes made from red clinkers dead next to the road. On the German side, one nicely smooth asphalt path separated by a grass verge. Truth be told: in this part of Germany there’s often excellent bike paths outside of the cities.

I stayed on this road until past Geldern. Then I took a shortcut to get on a main road towards Wetten. The first part was narrow and filled with sharp gravel in the middle. I paused to take a picture and check how long this would take. Turned out I would be on a main road shortly. In the distance someone in a Mini raced towards me without slowing, in fact increasing their speed. When they passed a stone ticked against my down tube. Oh my.
Just like me the sun was not impressed and showed his friendly face through the clouds. Just past Wetten a mare was grazing as her foal was drinking her milk. I stopped to admire them and ate a banana. I was past the halfway point.
Next my route crossed the Lower Rhine Heights and passed through Uedem. To the west the Niers valley, to the east the Rhine valley. Between them a narrow ridge that starts in Nijmegen and extends south down to Krefeld.

I reached Kalkar and had only one goal before I would reach the Rhine bridge at Emmerich: a visit to Moyland where there was a water fountain at a camper parking next to Schloss Moyland. The castle houses an extensive collection of works by Joseph Beuys which is well worth visiting. As if I had never been there I looked for the castle—but it’s not visible from the street. I was even close to buying a ticket so I could pass the gate. It would have to wait for another time.

Like the Rhine I passed the border in Spijk. Once the Rhine entered the Netherlands in Lobith but the river changed course already in the 18th century. In many Dutch minds the Rhine still enters at Lobith centuries later. Just like Rotterdam is a city on the Maas I guess, while it is actually a city on the Rhine.

At this point after 250km my mental picture of the journey left was pretty clear even if only the roads on the second part were familiar. I crossed the IJssel on the Westervoort bridge. Some punk on a moped passed cyclists as if he was a MotoGP rider. On the bike path that is. Oh my, oh my. Yes, mopeds are often allowed on shared bike paths. No, they may only reach a maximum of 35 vs 25 (yellow vs blue number plates). Yes, it is very uncommon that moped riders keep to this maximum, especially the blue ones. No, they are not likely to be fined. Yes, most of them drive sensibly anyway.
A few crossings later the same moped rider ignored a red light and crossed the motorway in front of oncoming traffic. While he stood still on the road a large truck was coming his way and hooted angrily. The moped rider lifted some fingers and sped to safety. Celebrations among all cyclists waiting for the traffic light. How glad I was when I crossed the Nederrijn at the Andrej Sacharov bridge, moving to quieter roads again. The views across the Nederrijn to the other side between Oosterbeek—where I was born—and Doorwerth were amazing.

I had planned much of the remaining journey through the woods. This had been a smart move and saved me some energy. Three cyclists sprinted past me just before the Zeisterweg climb to the Austerlitz Pyramid. My energy distribution had been so good that I even managed to overtake one of them on the climb.

It was only in the last 20km that I felt the energy running out. Not a surprise really since I hadn’t eaten anything for the last few hours. That didn’t matter now. I would be home soon! Just love it when a plan comes together. 😁😺