COVID has impacted the awesome kickoff year we had in mind for Wildhood. Our campout was about to be cancelled, other wild ideas are still racing through our minds eager to be released. We planned a social summer series to discover the beautiful rough part of Belgian Luxembourg. At one moment, we thought of abandoning the whole idea but our longing for adventure and riding with our comrades was too strong, we decided to go ahead. And so, the cycling zombies descended on the Ardennes, ready to contaminate those dirty single tracks and forest roads, the Apocalypse was near.

Bouillon

The ride in Bouillon would be the start of my holiday. No better way to leave the stress of life behind than by pedaling away in the Southern part of Belgium.  I was a bit nervous since I had never cycled that distance in combination with the altitude and terrain. And it was all guys participating, except for Sarah. I call her Superwoman though, after we spent a short bikepacking trip together.  Arriving at the campsite took away all my nerves. We had a nice gang joining us. No quick and easy bikepacking food for us, we value a delicious meal, so I was curious to see what my friends conjured up on their small pocket rockets.  We talked about the perfect bikepacking setup and the essentials you need for an epic ride, though as well about freeze-dried food and dehydration machines. We chatted into the night and before going to bed, we walked down to the Semois and spotted stars and satellites at the riverbed.

Luckily COVID-regulations were loosened a bit so we could start the ride with Coffee and Croissants at the Chateau. We set off at a steady pace. Climbing legs were a requisite. The first puffs and moans were quickly in the air. The track was awesome. Steep climbs, winding gravel roads, dense forests, wide views and an occasional hike-a-bike. Unfortunately, the famous German couple Ulf and Sarah couldn’t join us till the end which left me as the only woman in the group.  I could convince three female friends to buy a gravel bike, now it’s just a matter of training before they join me on our adventures. When we paused I saw Axel’s face sparkle of happiness. I am só enjoying this, he said, and you could see it wasn’t a lie. He got so addicted that he joined us on all three rides. The regular snack stop was a must and when we arrived, we crashed down at the bar at the top of the castle to celebrate with beers. We made it! 100km, 1800m! It was a challenging ride and I was secretly proud I managed it. Part of the group stayed with us another night, a memorable night that started off with pizza and beer and ended with a dive in the dark babbling Semois.

The next morning, woken up by the smell of coffee and eggs, I set off to the Vosges with a feeling that would become a familiar one during the summer series, a sensation of nostalgia.

St. Hubert

This time no coffee and pastries, masks and elbow greetings it was. I was happy to see familiar faces and new ones as well. I thrive on social interaction, so I was cheerful that we again formed an interesting group. I quickly felt it wasn’t my day, my legs were heavy and I was slower than normal. We immediately hit rough surface, this would be the harbinger of a rugged ride. After some off-track cycling through the woods we arrived at a deserted flight strip. A surreal place. The inner child got loose. Many of us took off, arms widespread, flying high. At lunchtime, we stopped at a camping where we dutifully sat down at a socially accepted distance. I am not a soda-girl, but I guess the number of cokes I drank during the summer series equaled the ones I had during the past 5 years. Water alone wouldn’t bring me to the finish line.  At the next stop, Stijn took a look at my bike since I was still suffering more than normal. He asked me how the hell I had been able to cope. Apparently, I had been cycling with a broken bottom bracket. Ok, me, rather unexperienced trying to climb 2000m over 100 km with a thwarting bike.

Because the climbs were steep and crude, I decided at one point to take a short-cut. Goodbye to the wild tracks. Luckily for me, Mike had been suffering the whole ride too, he had cramps that made him decide to join me. A small river flowed next to the Castle of Mirwart, a perfect spot to swim. We just needed one glimpse at each other to put aside the bike, take off our socks and get refreshed by the water. A peaceful moment. I needed it to cool down, Mike was hoping it would take away his cramps…in vain. What was in front of us, was a km-long tarmac climb, behind every turn was another turn. We often had to stop since Mike’s cramps were so painful, he couldn’t put pressure on the pedals. In the end, Helmut came to pick him up and I cycled the last part to St Hubert on a long winding downhill. The rest of the bunch arrived after two incredibly heavy climbs up to the village of Mirwart, respect! We ended the day, again with pizza and beer. I made new friends, had outdone myself and finished my last beer with a rainbow in the distance. Rough, rougher, roughest… St Hubert clearly distinguished itself by the rocky terrain.

Redu

The last ride of the series, it had to be a memorable one. I convinced a friend, who just got his gravel bike, to join us on the ride. Another couple from my hometown decided to join too. I seem to be good at enthusing people, three gravel newbies in the group! Some of us decided to make it a camping weekend so we arrived on Friday after work on a camp spot where we were greeted by alpacas. Chef’s hat on and some delicious meals were cooked to fill our tummies. The owners value the philosophy of their camping and made that clear to us. Drugs wasn’t welcome and at 10 pm silence was requested. Apparently, we lost ourselves in our conversation and laughed too loud, an exaggerated warning was sent our way. It impacted the atmosphere and soon we nested in our tents. Since respect is an important value to me, I went to the owner in the morning, to apologize for our laughter though pointing out that his tone of last night was inappropriate, he didn’t have to treat us as hooligans. I spare you the discussion, but all is well that ends well, he came to apologize to all of us.

After a nice breakfast, we set off to the village of Redu, nestled deep in the fairytale landscape of the Ardennes, where the rest of the group was awaiting us. Excited to hit these beautiful tarmac backcountry roads again, we took off. We quickly dived into the woods, cycling next to the Our and the Lesse. Quite some flats this ride, but nothing our Mighty Mechanic couldn’t solve. Where St Hubert was all about rocks, Redu was all about dust. I was blinded by sand when I cycled too close behind my colleague who had replaced his tires because he feared some muddy underground because of the rain the day before. No need… in dust we trust. We found an amazing place for our lunchbreak, a retired couple serving us cold water and coke in their house and garden that they turned into a cosy brasserie. After filling our water bottles at the tap, we set off for the last part in the enchanting countryside. Willem and Emma decided to take a shortcut, amazing what they had pulled off on their first gravel ride. We tackled the last part with still some steep uphills but winding downhills as well. Again 85 km in the legs, having climbed 1500m, satisfied and proud.  I also realized I was celebrating the first anniversary of me gravelling. Exactly one year ago I got my Kona and Phil took me on an epic baptism weekend in the Eifel. Much happened in a year, from being a newbie to becoming a director in Wildhood - what’s in a name.

We ended the evening with a nice dinner at a terrace in the village whose very DNA is indelibly tied to books. With a small group we headed back to the camping where we chattered under a star-lit sky.  Looking back at the series, what makes me most happy is the people who joined. The unique blend we make. There was the mighty mechanic, the silent support, the forever friend, the witty word wizard, the climbing champion, the not-to-forget newbies... Oh, how I love riding these tracks with my comrades, seeing a friendship budding between them!  The apocalypse is out of the question here, no encounters with demons either, there is little that can beat the beautiful simplicity of a bike ride.

Words: Sofie Schuer

Photos: Gabrie Van Zanten & Philippe Michiels