Water Locks at Vise, Belgium

By the way, the end point of this map was also the point of origin for the trip. I don't know why Google maps overwrites the A and B points. You'd think they would be able to have different colored bubble letters that show side by side or something.

With such a beautiful sunny day, we decided to ride towards Klimmen and go to the water locks at Vise. I was off to a rough start - well, rough starts, rough stops, and I had an extremely difficult time cornering. The ninety-seven kajillion traffic circles were individual nightmares even with my eyes wide open. Traffic through Heerlen was bumper-to-bumper, but since it was all on two-way streets and metered with traffic lights we didn't have the right to go between the lanes legally. When my bike was serviced, something happened and the "easy clutch" that was installed was all of a sudden tightened to almost new specs again, and even though I took it back to have it loosened, all they did was make the clutch engage further out which is even more frustrating. So, my left hand was aching all the way to my elbow by the time we finally cleared Heerlen.

I have no idea what was going on with me, but I found it almost impossible to stay caught up with Kevin. We even had a couple of cars between us a few times and missed the exit for Klimmen. We went a bit further down and exited at Valkenburg. There was more traffic there, but after we waited "forever" for a train to pass at least it was flowing. Traffic we had been through at that point was nothing compared to Maastricht at 5:30 p.m. Kennedy bridge traffic was the worst I've ever seen, and there was still the tight curve in the exit to the street that runs alongside the river to face.

I guess this is turning into a venting, ranting post today, so go ahead and leave if you'd like. Wouldn't blame you a bit if you did.

The saving moment for me was when we stopped at a little cafe across from the church in Margraten, the "An der Put." By that time I was enraged at my own cowardice and frustrated with my skills. Having a quiet cup of cappuccino, not to mention the extreme caffeine fix, and a chat with Kevin did wonders for me. That wasn't to say that my skills became perfect with one cup, but at least I was more able to keep up and when we climbed the twisty road above the locks I did not drop the bike in the hairpin curve. The first time we took that particular curve I ended up on the far side almost against the embankment on the other side of the road, had to back up - back w-a-y up - and start up the hill again. The second time we took that road, I was so proud of making it without messing up. After such a horrible start to the ride, though, all the fears returned. It's amazing what happens to self-esteem when a few things go wrong and how all the old fears and self-disgust return.

Fortunately, this time I had no problem with the curve despite my anxiety, and when we pulled off the road at the overlook rest area I could have danced for joy. I had been living my own little personal drama, and the whole time everybody else in the world had just continued going about their business. Barges and other boats were moving cargo and people up and down the river, and everything was right with the world.

The best part of the ride through that area comes soon after the rest area. There's the wooded part with all the twisty curves, and then, all of a sudden, you break through at the top of the hill. It feels like the top of the world by the time you reach it, and the sky opens up in front of you. There are wide, open fields on a little plateau, and we caught the sun just above the edge of the field to our left. Every time we've gone through the field road it just takes my breath away.

A quick pass through Maastricht, and we headed home up A79 with a glorious sunset in our rear-view mirrors. I really felt like we were going in the wrong direction because the sunset was so inviting.

By the time we closed the garage door I was utterly exhausted. I think the things I could change before doing that same run again would be to plan where to eat dinner. I don't care where, but it's not sane to gorge on junk food, not drink water, and go on a trip hoping to stop for something real to eat. Coming home after 7:00 wired on coffee and thinking it's too late to cook is just not a way to end an evening. Leaving home and going through some medium sized cities during rush hour traffic (what a misnomer) wasn't such a good idea either.

The White Village of Thorn

The beautiful weather enticed us onto our motorcycles and north to the white village of Thorn, the Netherlands. It's a beautiful place with cobblestone streets and many, many "whitewashed" brick houses clustered around the village church. We must have come up on one of the many weddings this afternoon, because the area around the church was blocked off to vehicular traffic. Not at all put off by this, we went on a side street and went into the parking lot of the village administration offices where we had a lovely view of the back of the church.

The courtyard of the admin offices had an interesting statue of a short, stout crusader named Ansfried who had established the church and Benedectine abbey around 975 A.D. on land formed when the swamp running alongside the Roman road between Maastricht and Nijmegen  was drained. Ansfried later became Bishop of Utrecht, the Netherlands.

We passed through the village and almost visited our favorite lake in the area. A muddy parking lot was enough to send us on to our next stop, a pub near the Maas (also known as the Meuse) River where we were able to park our bikes and have a cup of coffee in the sunshine. Evidently there were quite a few people who had the same idea, because we grabbed the last available table on the open terrace.

From there, we moved on to Mariahoop where we took a short break in the church parking lot. That area is so incredibly peaceful, and we saw quite a parade of people on bicycles, walking dogs or each other, and a variety of scooters, quads, and motorcycles strolling or rolling quietly by. We finally fell in behind a small convoy of motorcycles and quads and headed towards Gangelt.

When Kevin made a turn to go into the town of Gangelt, I figured he had remembered a frites shop there that would be convenient for a bite of late lunch. I was pleasantly surprised when he turned in at El Greco, one of my favorite Greek restaurants in this area. Late lunch/early dinner was extravagant. 

After a salad of shredded lettuce, cabbage, tomato, olive, and Greek peppers, we enjoyed delicacies from the grill. Mine included squares of pork cutlet, chicken breast, and a gyros mix topped with a nice Greek yogurt and garlic sauce. Kevin had a chicken breast with white asparagus smothered in Hollandaise sauce. Both plates were served with spicy rice and fries.

All good things must come to an end, "they" say, so after the feeding frenzy was over we waddled out to the motorcycles and rolled home with about 80 more miles on our odometers.

What a beautiful day, and what a pleasure it is to spend that kind of time with my husband!

Vaalserberg, Netherlands at Drielandenpunt

This morning I couldn't believe how beautiful it was outside, so of course I rode the Harley to work! Having a good ride this afternoon kept me going all day long, so when I rode the the back gate at school and saw Kevin waiting on the corner for me it was "on" the way he puts it. I don't think I'll ever be able to say the word "on" quite the way he does with several syllables, but on such a beautiful day there's no way to disagree with that sentiment!

We started our ride with a tank topper at the base followed by a quick trip to Burger King. 

Hitting the worst traffic of the day on A76, I had my first opportunity to ride down the center line, following Kevin's lead. Here in the Netherlands motorcyclists are supposed to get through long lines of cars this way to avoid overheating the air-cooled engines waiting in long queues of traffic. We had talked about it, and I couldn't figure out how you recover from the center if traffic starts moving until it happened. We just merged back into the line and kept going! Cool! Way cool! I'm still giggling about how good it felt!

Going past Heerlen on N281, we went in the direction of Vaals, and ended up going up the winding road to Drielandenpunt, the highest point in the Netherlands, and also the point where the Netherlands, Germany, and Belgium meet. There's a nice nature reserve there, a bit of a park with a labyrinth complete with a tower in its center, a few touristy restaurants, and a look-out tower where there's a spectacular view of the countryside. Three countries' countryside, that is.

Kevin led me through the park and out the back side into Belgium where we rode on their horrific patched roads that curved like a crazed snake. We managed to avoid running over skateboarders and didn't go over the steep sides of the curves into nothingness. Pretty good, I thought! When we finally reached the lower level, we wound around through many, many small villages and finally ended up on some longish straight-ish paths before getting back onto N281 and heading home.

At one point, we were facing the setting sun - so bright that all I could see was the almost-blinding light with Kevin's silhouette leading me on. I've never been so thankful for my nice biker's goggles with super polarizing lenses. Fortunately, this experience lasted for a few seconds. However, it will be etched in my memory forever! Following that little experience, we were able to watch the sun descend behind the piedmont of the Alps. Gorgeous, absolutely, stunningly gorgeous streaks of gold and orange filled the sky behind even more silhouettes, this time trees not yet budded out for Spring.

This is why I ride.

Apeldoorn

Saturday's weather was in the 50'sF and mostly sunny, so we decided on another road trip. This time we chose Apeldoorn. Kevin had been in the area when he was studying Operation Market Garden in a history class and had wanted to go back there. I'm so glad we went!

The trip up was interesting because it was so laid back. Traffic was light, so navigating was easy compared to our trip to Westkapelle. We had considered going to Nijmegen and/or Kinderdijk but decided to go further north instead.

At one of our rest stops another Harley owner pulled up near us. We talked about bikes and how we've each modified ours a little. He has a 2002 Road King, so he was charmed by Kevin and his 2010 RK. Also, he said his wife rides a Sportster 883. My bags and fuel gauge caught his attention on her behalf. He said that with a trip to Denmark coming up for them he'd like for her to have some bags of her own. He has a sissy bar and luggage rack in addition to his bags, so he usually has a duffel he straps to the sissy bar so they can pack more. We'll probably see them at the Harley rally at Leopoldsburg, Belgium, this coming summer.

Of course we're thinking of a trip to Denmark now. When I checked, it looked like an nine-hour (by car on a good day) trip. For us, that's at least two days on the bikes, probably three.

In Apeldoorn, Kevin and I rode around a bit and found a Best Western hotel in a nice section of town on Loolaan. It's at the same corner at het Kleine Loo - the gate house to the Het Loo Palace, I think. Maybe next time we'll explore more in that direction and visit the museum in the palace. There is also a monument to the Canadians at that corner. I'll try to snag a photo of it from Kevin when he publishes his pics in FaceBook.

Our accommodations were nice and dinner at the restaurant was excellent. Kevin had the Cajun chicken and I had salmon. These were served with fries, vegetables, a salad, and some sort of potato (and something) cake that looked like fish stick wedges.

Our ride back home wasn't quite as pleasant as going to Apeldoorn. About half way home it started sprinkling. Although it was just a light sprinkle, it was enough to make seeing through the windshield a bit of a challenge. Also, the wind had "kicked up" and was annoying.

Even after one night away, it's so nice to be back home. Have to say, though, even after being back less than a half hour we were already discussing where we might go next time!

Border to Border - First Road Trip

Well, we decided the weather was too good on Tuesday to sit at home, so we packed our bags and headed west to one of our favorite spots, Hotel de Valk in Westkapelle, on the other side of the Netherlands.

Although I was a little concerned about taking the autobahn, the thing that bothered me the most was the possibility of having to take curves at highway speeds. I don't think the engineers over here  worry too much about banking curves, so they're pretty much flat. Even driving in the car I feel sloshed over to one side or the other when we go around curves.

Fortunately, having to lean to make the curves turned out to be a huge advantage. Leaning just seems natural on the motorcycle! Now, anyway.

This would, of course, be a huge shock to my first cousin who tried taking me on the back of his bike when we were around 13 years old. He only took me as far as the first turn from his house. He learned left, and I leaned right to "correct" his lean so we wouldn't fall over. As soon as he could, Brad stopped the bike and told me to get off. I walked home in absolute humiliation and vowed to never get on another motorcycle.

Fast forward to around 1972, when a friend and I planned to go to a church choir Christmas party. I was wearing a long dress with high heels, and my long "shag" hairdo and makeup were perfect. Until he showed up on a motorcycle and refused to go in my car. So, my second ever ride on a motorcycle was with my dress hiked up and my perfect hair crushed inside a helmet. Oh, and it snowed on the way. I deeply regretted that I hadn't had the resolve to never, ever get on a motorcycle again. I renewed the vow.

Fast forward, again, to Spring of 2010, when I finally got up the courage to ride behind my husband on his Road King (no sissy bar) after watching him successfully ride for months. I drove the car "at a safe distance" behind him on several road trips, remaining firm in my commitment to motorcycle abstinence. However, there was just something about the peace that I saw in him every time he returned from a long ride - reminded me of watching smokers take that first puff after being on a long-distance flight. It was that peace that enticed me to buy a helmet - no shag to worry about now - and a jacket so my elbows wouldn't grind to the bone if I slipped off. 

Our first trip was horrible. After about twenty minutes Kevin asked if I had seen something. "No, I can't see anything 'cause my eyes are shut and I'm praying so don't talk," was about all I could get out as my fingers gripped his sides. He offered to take me straight home. Notice, Brad, if you happen to read this, that he didn't just dump me off and tell me to walk home. It's funny, but I guess I'm contrary enough that Kevin's willingness to give up a ride because of my discomfort was enough to make me want to open my eyes and see what he was talking about. We kept going, and what I saw was absolutely glorious. The feeling of riding along and feeling the sun beating down on us, the aroma of a bakery and the odor of freshly plowed fields along with the weird motorcycle-bonding with him more than countered my fear of falling off. 

When we finally pulled into our driveway, Kevin asked what I thought of the ride. All I knew at that point was that I didn't want to ride "two-up" ever again. He's solid and safe, and he's probably one of the best drivers I've ever been around. Also, the fear of falling because of leaning with the driver had gone away, a little anyway. I also knew by then that I wanted what he had - I wanted my own bike. I thought his jaw would drop to the ground when I told him so. He did a nice recovery and just said, "Well, then do what you have to do to make that happen."

When we went to the States last summer, I spent the first few days taking a Riders' Edge class at the Charlotte Harley-Davidson dealership in Matthews, NC. My instructor was a former military guy who was very, very patient with a mostly female class. He got us through the course without any injuries, so getting the motorcycle endorsement on my Mississippi Driver's License was pretty easy. We just had to drive to Mississippi to get it! The course gave me the theory so I did well on the written exam, and the card from Riders' Edge meant that I didn't have to do a road test.

Kevin and I got back to Europe about two weeks after the course and looked for a shop that would rent a bike to me while I decided which one I would like to buy. We finally found one in Heerlen, and I rented a Suzuki Savage 650 for a weekend. The Netherlands must have more traffic circles per capita than any other country in the world, so there was no escaping curves that had given me, predictably, some trouble during the RE course. I spent most of my time on the Savage practicing going around in circles. Literally. There is a new road project fairly close to our house, and part of the road was built in hopes of continuing to a connecting road. There's a long story about a property owner who refused to sell, so construction was halted, conveniently, at a traffic circle. 

I wanted a Harley, and I definitely wanted something heavier than the Savage. We went back and forth with the dealer at the military car sales place at the local base, convinced that I would end up with a Sportster 883. I ended up getting the bike of my dreams - literally. When we were in the Gaston Harley-Davidson Dealership, there was the most gorgeous Sportster 1200 Low on the show floor. It was a brand new 2009 model, black ice/blue ice (actually a yummy shimmery purple and blue). We were there for too short a period of time to get things worked out to have it shipped to the Netherlands, so by the time we were looking for bikes my hope of ever seeing that bike was truly just in my dreams. By the end of September, though, that bike showed up on the inventory of motorcycles in Europe, and now she's waiting in my garage!

I've had loads of fun on that bike already, and our trip to the coast really gave me a deep satisfaction that's difficult to put into words. I took the big curves with a bit of caution until I got comfortable enough to go full speed. Dealing with autobahn road interchanges with four and five lanes across and some crazy cross-overs for exits was a bit frustrating, but Kevin is a patient man who takes great care in making sure there is room enough for both of us to move before he leads us in lane changes or exits. 

Lessons learned during that trip would be to dress warmer in the cooler, windier temps, and to get a motorcycle GPS so Kevin isn't stressed with having to read signs in several languages and worried about missing signs or turns while he's trying to look out for me.

Oh, the moment of truth at each end of the trip came the instant the bikes were turned off and we both smiled as we sighed in absolute, utter peace.

To Visé, Belgium, and Back

We had another nice outing today, as planned, riding to Visé, Belgium. Part of our 54-mile trip was on N281, but most of it was on back roads that were much more scenic than the autobahns.

Passing by Margraten American Cemetery brought back a flood of memories from the Veterans' Day ceremonies I observed there with large groups of children when I taught fifth and sixth grades. It still warms my heart to think of the hundreds of children in those classes over the years who participated in the respectful walk of silent reflection around the grounds. The only sound I ever heard during those walks was the crunch of hundreds of feet on gravel.

We stopped at the water locks in Visé and warmed up a bit. The temperatures may have been in the 40sF, but the chill factor took its toll on my fingers.

Just as we turned around to head back towards home, my fuel light popped on. That's one annoying thing about my Sportster. It doesn't come equipped with a fuel gage, and I'm not sure at what point in the emptying of the tank the light comes on. Right now I'm willing to guess that it probably happens when there's still a quarter of a tank left. Leslie has already shipped a fuel gauge that I bought from Killer Creek Harley, so it'll probably arrive some time this week. The guys at Dutch Hills Harley said they'd be happy to install it for me. <>

It's been a long day, but I'm having trouble winding down because I'm so excited about tomorrow's adventure. Cochem, Germany? Maybe, maybe not. Doesn't matter as long as we ride!

Getting Ready to Ride

Here we are on the first official day of Carnival Break, and the temperatures have risen from 27F at around 7:00 this morning to a sunny 36.5F at almost 10:00. Kevin's saying we should be at 42F by 1:00 this afternoon, so we'll go out for a little ride and then go gas up.

The longest I've ridden so far is about 45 miles in one day, and that was over a couple of hours on winding back roads. Now that I've finished breaking in the bike - she's up to 927 miles now and had the first servicing - we can hit the highway. I'm longing for a few straight roads at a speed of over 50 mph, and today will be the day for it!

We've been talking about riding to Cochem, Germany and spending the night, but when I looked at the map last night I noticed it's only 107 miles. I think we can go and return home in one day.

Today I'm trying out my CARA Designs helmet earrings for the first time. Denise Atkinson has been kind enough to make up a trial design to see if the helmet goes on and off without ripping off my earlobes or pushing earring posts into my head. When I slid the helmet on this morning, I couldn't even tell I had earrings on. Same thing when I removed the helmet. We've got a winner here! Well done, Denise! I love these earrings. It's pretty handy, too, to be able to change out the purple Swarovski crystals for other colors or the pearls!

Carnaval Break 2011

I can't wait to get started on our first overnight road trip!  My Sportster has bags, but they're not packed yet because we're waiting for the temperatures to rise just a little more.