In the name of gravel (curiosity and the holy condition) we head to Sint-Niklaas and its surroundings for the very first “official” gravel ride of the season Wildhood’s “Dirty Blessings”. Pandemic or not, punishment from God or not, we put on our bib shorts (the gravel cyclists's sackcloth) and set off for a tough ride through the Waasland region in Northern Flanders.

Armed with a double espresso, two bottles of sports drink and a handful of energy bars we set off on a 120-kilometre crusade through uncultivated polders and villages with sounding names such as Klein-Sinaai, Puivelde and De Klinge. Storming, we beat a brutal cobbled section, coast along the meandering Olentgracht and almost plunge into the Zuidledebeek.  The roads are bone-dry and easy to ride on, the sandy soil even dampens shocks and bumps. Putting the pedal to the metal is the message and on the way to the Promised Land we almost shoot our bolt. Just like the crusaders in old times we plan to only stay away for a while.

The Fall, wasn't it Eve who took a bite of the forbidden fruit and consequently saddled all humanity with damnation? Whatever the case may be, at an unguarded moment my riding partner Pieter taps his pedal against a lump of grass and after knocking some mud off his buttocks he is ready to go at it again.  Strangely it's not his ego, but his steel frame that has been dented at the top tube. It's impossible to continue the ride this way and this means an abrupt end to the off-road conquest of the Waasland region for my unfortunate companion. What a waste!

We move on and cross the village of Eksaarde where in long gone times two Jesus figurines  were found that were stolen by crusaders in the 13th century from somewhere in the East. What is striking about these statues is the fact that Jesus does not hold his arms sideways, but above his head and makes, as it were, a circle. We stretch our arms and lower backs in this way as well because all that pushing and shoving on those farm tracks is taking its toll.  Later on, the monumental Chapel of the Cross was built on this site. Nice detail: if you look closely, you'll find the names of the four builders who constructed the chapel on the left side of the wall. Of course, we stop for a moment to immortalize our passage at the chapel with a 'kapellekesshot', well known among Flemish gravel cyclists.

This region is littered with dry dirt roads and straightforward tracks through the open plains. There's not much altitude to be conquered, but the strong wind is given free rein in these flatlands. Often these paths are only interrupted by the Stekene canal or another waterway. Near Moerbeke for example, where we pound against the wind for miles on a towpath along the canal. Here we have to give it our best shot to maintain speed on the gravel path while we feel the lactic acid build up in our legs.

Our riding group splits in two, unlike Maria we lose our virginity on dirt roads and between the tall cottonwood trees of Waasland county.  When we make it to the last part of the ride, our heartbeat rises. We sneak through the so-called Poachers' Woods and we give it once more our best shot. Forest roads and fast gravel paths are a welcome change from those long-stretched farm tracks on the first part of the course.  We pedal swiftly on forest roads and stir up some dust. On the way back we are even encouraged by a “bubble” of hikers. We feel blessed and with a broad smile and sore legs we ride back into Sint-Niklaas. Redemption draweth nigh.

Words: Jan Van Herck

Translation: Philippe Michiels

Photography: Philippe Michiels

Originaly published in Vojo-Mag