Me being interviewed at the start in Örebro
Right! What was it I said yesterday? I had an epiphany??
Indeed. Whilst outside the Happy Salmon restaurant (NB: The burger grill just opposite was burnt out??) I saw that our medical team were looking at a google map on their pc. Four of the leaders had GPS-trackers and the chaps in the medical van could see exactly where each and everyone of us were.
Gary: Natte, How many of those things do you have?
Natte: 10
Gary: Can you name them whatever you like?
Natte: Yes ...
No sooner said than done. This day all the leaders rode with a gps tracker that was renamed after the groups. Slow, medium, fast etc. The word went out around the web that now we could be followed live online.
A great help to the clubs in the towns ahead and to my great pleasure even a journalist who called wondering where we were. He met up with us on the road and took some photos as we travelled.
The road from Örebro to Motala is pleasant. 100kms with a quick stop in Mariedamn where the Örebro Bike club said their farewells in what was a really nice speech by Patrick Jämntvall that warmed the hearts of all present.
We rode on to Motala where MAIF bike club waited to greet us and we took our beverages and buns and bananas. Our group had a puncture on the way in, about 500m from the depot, and oddly enough for the second year running I met the same person in just that area. Annette, who I first met in London in 1987 ,we even met on Half Vättern this year.
After Motala we rode on toward Ljungsbro. Here we were joined by a familiar face from last year, one Mats Mikiver who I would have it was Nordic champion 1977 followed by 2 more fantastic years. Now we were getting closer to Linköping. This I was looking forward too .... but not the weather ... as we approached the crossing at Bergs slussen (the locks on the waterway) the clouds were darkening to the west again.
As we rode down the long cyclepath into Linköping and the area known as Ikano where IKEA is situated, a greyish cloud was approaching fast towards us over the wheat-field.
Then it hit us; Hailstones. it mattered not how fast or slow we rode. These small pellets of ice pelted our helmets, glasses, arms, legs and it was like being shot with an airgun ... often!! (Yes, been there, done that, didn't like it)
but on arriving at the finish line, the tarmac was wet but the rain had stopped. On my own, I made my way, as was customary now, to the nearest McDonalds and gorged myself on a CBO, chocolate muffin and a large Latte.
Now for the good part. 40kms home to Norrköping in the van. Billy, Alex and I would be lodging at my home. Gabriella had prepared a small feast and that evening, I spent the night in my own bed, with the woman I love, in the house that I own.
The Pig and I made it through the rain
(Please note: The Pig's on the helmet, I'm on the bike)
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