25 November 2023 - He made me an offer I could not refuse. Thank God he is not Don Vito himself, but my (considerably less) violent friend Robert. And in fact, he only even hurts himself. Which, then again, is regularly because of me.
Text and photos: Erwin Reijneveld – Mountain High Chasers
Such a friend it is
He is one of those friends who always picks up the gauntlet. Whatever you think of, he is there. Even if the weather, the daylight or everything else fails, count on him. And so there can be a bleak evening deep in December when you faithfully wait for him to finish the Drenthe200. After that day had already started at 6am with pouring rain in Roden. And that he struggled through 200 kilometres of mostly blubber because you asked him if he was up for a challenge.
It is only 200 kilometres
If the same friend then asks if you would like to cycle 200 klikkies through his Zeeland, sometime in late November, such an offer does not feel like a question. So yes, I said immediately (to feign voluntariness) and so before seven we were in a car, in cycling costume. With coffee in hand, bikes on the back and windscreen wipers busy for 100 minutes. The only people who had already had the bad idea to go out in Wemeldingen were now meeting us in the local brasserie. A few handfuls of like-minded people, including another friend, are here for the BRM200 start card; Luctor et Emergo (after the Zeeland motto "I struggle and come out on top"). Punctually at 9 o'clock, we are outside in a trench of five and organiser Hein briefly tells us where the bottlenecks of the route are (I mainly see the wind as a bottleneck and barely listen to a diversion here and the service road there).
The rainbow shows the way
Flanked by the first rainbow of the day, we set off. For our first Brevet Randonneurs Mondiaux (or; BRM) tour. Behind these three letters is a world of non-competitive cyclists cycling without stopping there. Today's 200 kilometres is just an entry-level tour. There are also those of three-, four- and six-hundred, even a thousand kilometres. All as a prelude to and qualification for the ultimate in this niche; Paris - Brest - Paris (1,200 kilometres). It must be crazy if I want to tell my wife tonight that this is going to be my goal for next year.
South Beveland
Back to today. We blow right through Zuid-Beveland, where I am introduced to the terms inner and outer dike. Not a person to be seen here, wherever I look. I do see foam heads on the water, and so it is wind force five according to the born Zeeuw. We field past fields on empty roads. Drizzle becomes rain, rain becomes hail, and tempers become sadder and sadder. But complaining about the elements is not done here, you can feel it in everything, and so I act according to the local culture.
Middelburg it is
Then we shiver into Middelburg. In the beautiful town centre, we actually see real people walking. We quickly move on, facing our next hailstorm. Fortunately, we struggle together and we will get to the top. Although the wind wants to push us back, we arrive at Neeltje Jans. So familiar, so iconic and so cool to drive over. In the Burg-Haamstede area, memories of family weekends in the various parks surface. After Renesse, all we have to do is ride ´against´ the sea to keep the wind at our backs for a while, right where you want it.
Seeing no more sea
The sea gives way to the Grevelingen and in Brouwershaven the tide will turn. In the pretty little harbour, we moor the bikes and trickle into a restaurant. Once outside again, the sun breaks through, making it almost unnoticeable that our gloves are still soaking wet when we put them on. Over the Philipsdam today, we see yet another proof of the mighty Delta works. Towards Tholen, we ride straight through the polder. The winding roads distance themselves from the polder feeling you might experience in Flevo's, with even a slight slope. The sun and the approaching finish easily make the kilometres disappear, although a suit of darkness continues to threaten. Back in Zuid-Beveland, mister headwind also makes a comeback, but can't break us anymore. And so we arrive back where we started before darkness falls. To experience the most unique part of cycling.
Calling, that's not right
Because the finish line, today, is a doorbell. Organiser Hein receives all the outriders in his own home. Tour charm at its best. We are invited to his dining table. With a laptop, stamping pad, biscuits and soft drinks. Hein represents the full jury and inspects the evidence before putting the official Randonneurs stamp on our map. Here sit three helmeted men with a satisfied feeling and a coke in front of the jury overflowing with stories about far too long treks. And here we are thinking we have done something special today. Zeeland and this Zeeuw have surprised me today. A big experience richer. Thanks anyway for the 'question' Robert.
ROUTE Brevet Randonneurs Mondiaux Zeeland
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