Spring Break 2023 in Three Parts

Okay, okay, rewind.

No, farther than that...

Farther still..

Nope, even earlier... Let's see, remember in the introductory post about France when I told you how Suzy and her sister Katy, "schemers that they are," started planning trips as soon as I also landed a job in Berlin? Dream trips, a year or more in advance? Chamonix was one, skiing in the Alps, remember? Another was Oktober Fest in Munich (Suzy told you about that one a while ago, I think). Well, the biggest trip the two planned was for spring break 2023 (--yes, already came and went--more than a month ago--first two weeks of April--I know, I'm sorry, I have been leaving you all hanging--I'll blame it on Larry--

--here he is after rendering Kiefer unconscious in a wrestling match--fat, little dictator, that cat). Anyway, that spring break plan was the most diabolical, even though it was all just for a single day. The plan was to ride the Tour of Flanders, in Belgium, the Ronde--the actual course of one of the most difficult professional bike races in the world--difficult, because of the hills, and because of the cobblestones. Here's an old-timer picture.

That's basically me, leaning against the wall, and feeling as old as the front guy's bike shorts. Actually, this is me, needing Suzy's help to stretch my hamstrings with about 50 kms to go.

(Remind you of anything, Grandma?) Add to those difficulties the all-too-predictable inclement weather of early April in northern Europe, which did indeed challenge us on our own race day, and you start to get just what I mean by "diabolical."

Yeah, and the plan entailed training--on bikes, through the heart of a German winter--grueling--wet, cold--I'm not sure exactly what I did to offend Katy--and am still not sure I have actually survived her private reprisal (--easily my best excuse for failing to post about it until now--but had to get Larry in there somehow). True, we only rode a portion of the professional course, but it was more than enough for me.... To tell the truth, it was one of the coolest things I have ever done. I had a sense it would be right from the beginning of training, which sense kept us all going, and upon which it delivered.

Oh, and it was beautiful, idyllic: green, rolling spring hills, stone walls, cottages and cobblestones, all enhanced by the rain, never mind the cold and convulsing bikes. I'm even proud of it.

To be sure, I fell apart before the end, but I'm even proud of that--a real test of will. Suzy and Katy did great, by the way, both accomplishing their personal goals, and, in truth, they're not diabolical schemers, but strong, beautiful queens of stamina--and good teammates.

They could have finished the race a lot sooner, but they insisted upon sharing the experience with me despite my protestations, and pretty much carried me across the finish line, where they, in order to collect our post-race gear, left me in Bob's loving care.

But to give you a sense of just how crushed I was, at one moment, with about 15km to go, I told Katy I needed to take a leak. We stopped behind this event truck, which was parked up alongside a hedge. Suzy held my bike, while Katy, like the good coach she is, walked over toward me smiling encouragement--as always. But, after having successfully dismounted, I tried to move--to take a step toward her, and this pain I never felt before on the underside of my right ass cheek just screamed at me. So, nothing but instinct at this point, I shifted my weight to my other leg only to have the same mysterious under-ass ripping feeling in my left leg. I couldn't escape--and started falling over, past Katy into the hedge where I was hoping to pee. Katy caught me before I went down, but not before tears of sheer exhaustion collected in my eyes. What the hell was happening to me?! We were all laughing--because it was funny, but I did have real fear rifle through my body at the discovery of these two apparently totally necessary, but hidden parts of my anatomy. And, in truth, they were only the most noticeable parts of my whole condition. But I finished. Yep, 144km.

I don't think it's even half of the real race course, in distance, but it took me well over twice as long to finish it... Anyway, the race was only one day, the first day of our vacation, and, at JFKS in Berlin, you get two weeks for spring break. So how else did Suzy and Katy torture me, you're wondering? Well, 4-5 days in Belgium with the Williams (Part One)

3 or 4 more in the Netherlands (Part Two)

and then, can you believe it, a jaunt to join Papa in Brarcelona (Part Three).

It was, in a word, AWESOME! And it deserves far more time and space than I am now able to give it. But what I can do, I am committed to doing within the next couple of days (--because other memories are fast queuing, each with no less a charge upon me). I'm going to punch it out like I did the bike race, all to please my vindictive sister-in-law.

So won't you please join us for another European treat?