Canal Cruising or How To Lose You Hat & Not Notice For A Few Hours

Having survived the previous day's TT and subsequent celebrations and parties the NECS set out on our third day for naval support duties. Rolling out of the Hotel Nes it was back onto the trusty steeds to return them to the safe keeping of the local bike shop. Of course with the last night having gone into the wee hours our first stop was De Dampkring for a quick pick me up.
Having yet again survived altered state cycling, we headed out on the next adventure - securing the safety of the canals from the deadly contagion - river pickles - by running an all day patrol boat.These generally appear on Sunday mornings when the drunken sots from the night before can't find a crapper and decide to hang it off one of the bridges to drop the kids off at the pool.In order to make the departure of the trusty U.S.S. Dampkring we had to take the short cut through the Red Light district middle morning. You can imagine the shock to our system when we encountered not the Eastern European beauties of the night before but the grave yard shift from the local steel mill. All I could say was "either I was so drunk last night that the ugly girls looked hot or these girls worked so hard last night they aged a lifetime". Either way I quickly came to the conclusion if I was Oedipus I was in heaven, but being a regular guy, I was scared. Certainly all your motherly desires could be satisfied for 20 Euros.We all came to one conclusion, as soon as we were on board it was off to the closest bar, which happened to be the crooked house, a fine establishment that was serving up our favorites Palms and Le Chouffe.With a real solid morning buzz working, it was only 11 am Amsterdam time, we decided it was time to shovel some of the fine cuisine of the town down our hungry pie holes so it was off to Wilhelmia-Dok for lunch. To get there we had to navigate the mighty Ij river, the busiest waterway in Amsterdam, complete with cruise ships and freighters that had no ability to stop for a boat load of drunks. Armed with De Dampkring lollipops and a travel mug of Palms, like the Minnow in Gilligan's Island, we set out for a 3 hour tour. By the time it was over our stomachs were full of moar beer and fine cuisine, now all we needed was the afternoon espresso and the day would be complete. Sadly on the way to the coffee shop the prop became fouled (possible river pickle damage) and we had to head back to base for a replacement craft. It was about this time that Braveheart realized he and another one of his hats had parted company. Faced with the prospect of either a multi hour return to Wilhelmia - Dok or the immediate gratification of the coffee shop up the canal it had all the potential to be a tough decision - NOT. It was a no brainer and some lucky Dutchman is now sporting a Yoshimura Giants hat.
Next up we needed to do something about the dehydration we were suffering from so Mathias quickly tied up to the canal wall and was off for a case of Heineken's to cover the afternoon cruise. You can imagine our surprise when right above us on the street was the local party bench for the city drunks, and it was a mangy crew that had occupied the slats that day. Of course in the interest of keeping the city clean and safe the police showed up moments later and immediately harassed the 2 local business men (of middle eastern persuasion) but left the drunks alone. I guess the rational is the drunks are too drunk to cause a problem but a couple of carpet traders handing briefcases back and forth could be trouble.
With the sun setting, our stomachs empty and our heads spinning it was time for dinner and preparation for the balance of the night. Finishing up yet another tasty meal at Vao, we headed out for the "get ready" espressos and a final night of action. First stop after was a local bar where we stumbled into a Sunday night ecstasy party complete with a DJ that looked like a cross between Crocodile Dundee and the helio pilot from The Road Warrior and a host that looked like Gary Glitter.Of course there was the standard fare of Dutch women in black skirts, black tights, boots but this time they were dancing on the bar stools and tables while the strobe lights raged. All of the sudden Braveheart was gone and then in a blink of an eye he was back and ready to rage.

For a grand finale Mathias escorted to one of his favorite hangouts, there was no name, only a plain door with a scary looking bouncer. Once inside it was strip club time and we all pushed Braveheart up to the stage to "take one for the boys" and take one he did, getting the most incredible labia dance any of us have ever seen. Well his dance was getting the other patrons all revved up and suddenly we noticed that everyone had close cut hair, 5 day shadow, black tshirts or tracksuits! My god we were in the land of the Albania tracksuit mafia.With final shake of her assets we were out the door before the guns could come out and on our way to the final nightcap. Sitting back sipping an espresso Braveheart suddenly comments "why do I smell like a cheap hooker" which put everyone on the floor laughing. It truly was game, set match, time to go home while we were alive.

Giromania Stage 1 - NECS Dominates The TT

With a night of rest under our belts it was time to expand our horizons beyond coffee, chocolate and beer and get ready for the real reason we were here - Giromanina and the stage 1 time trial.Over a morning double espresso at De Dampkring, the Mayor of Amsterdam sprung another surprise on us. We were meeting up with Mathias, long time resident of the city and our guide to enlightenment for the weekend.So to really get into the spirit of Amsterdam and the Giro we decided there was no better way to take it all in then on a bike, so it was off to the local shop to rent the finest the city had to offer. Now one has to understand that in Amsterdam there are only a couple of different brands of bikes and every one offers two basic models - men's and women's - and in one basic color - black. All of the bikes come with the same component groups and set ups, which makes it a true game locating your bike when you come out of the bars with a number of pints under your belt.Mounted up on our trusty steeds it was off to satisfy the Mayor's lust for pancakes, not to mention our morning's hunger pains. Leading us down the back streets, Mathias deposited us right at the door step of a wonderful pancake house that served up delicacies such as pancakes with banana, bacon and chili peppers - yes it sounds rather strange but it was a killer meal.Suddenly in through the door came Giorgio, a local the Mayor had struck up a friendship with at the toy store the day before. While the two caught up on the past 24 hours Top Chef and I were going through Giro Time Out to plan the day's events. Suddenly there was a crash and chairs were all over the place. Seems the morning coffee had left the Mayor (and the rest of us) feeling no pain and during the course of snapping a few pics of Giorgio he had lost orientation and took a small tumble - as you can imagine the rest of us doubled over in laughter, paid the bill and headed out on the bikes.
Cruising the streets we stopped by the fixed gear bike museum (it was still under construction but had lots of awesome race and one off customs in the windows) and passed by the bike film festival, noting that we had to come back on Sunday for this one (oddly it was a one day showing - makes no sense since the Giro was in town for 3 days). Riding around we took note not only of the hot chicks in boots on bikes but the various riding styles of the locals, as you can see there is little concern about head injuries and child safety, and the fact that the guys riding Pointers seemed to be the ones that scored with the women.The shock of the day was Top Chef passing on the opportunity to stop in a Starbucks declaring that he had taken a liking to the offerings at the local coffee shops. With this Mathias immediately changed course and suddenly there we were at the Rookery (Mathias's favorite) settling in for a couple of rounds of double espressos. Back out on the streets the city was beginning to get a bit more into the Giro and we came upon a local race that was lapping the canals. Unfortunately no one crashed into the canal.After a morning of comedy it was time to head over to the starting area for the Stage 1 time trial. The biggest surprise to all of us was the lack of interest from the locals. There were no problems getting up close to the team buses and getting to drool over these exotic machines.Following the TT course on bikes was taking it's toll so we stopped off at one of the outdoor bars to hydrate with a few rounds of beers and recon the maps for the next vantage point on the course. While sitting there we were lucky enough to meet up with Evil Knievel's Dutch cousin who pointed us to the nearest coffee shop for additional inspiration and caffeine power.Sitting back enjoying the coffee we perused the Giro Time Out and discovered there was a zany bike race over the time trail course right after the last racer was out on course. Revved up on double espressos and the special Philosopher Stone tea we headed out in the rain to hunt down the elusive zany bike race registration area. Seems no one working the Giro had any idea what we were talking about but perseverance paid off and suddenly we found ourselves at registration. Having secured our numbers (the Mayor managed to draw numero uno) we immediately headed to the nearest bar for moar Belgian beers. Fortified with the courage a couple of rounds of Palms will provide we donned our jerseys and headed out to the starting area only to discover that just like some pros we were late to the start. Well in the state we were in getting there late was the least of our problems, keeping the bikes upright was the bigger concern, after all these highly tuned Dutch TT bikes are not easy to ride.Just like with the pros as we raced through the barriers the fans were pounding on the sides, yelling and screaming and even offering up some of the home brew (Heineken) to help us get to finish. Wanting to avoid any problems with doping controls at the finish we grabbed anything offered and practiced the standard lines for the officials like "I never knowingly took performance enhancing drugs".
Thoroughly spent from the monumental effort required to secure the top four places in the race we headed out for a late afternoon espresso before cruising the city and doing some sightseeing and bar hopping by bike. Before we realized it midnight was fast approaching and dinner was yet to be consumed. But fear not friends, Mathias steered us to a fine establishment for yet another round of beers before heading across the street to dinner, lots of wine and then back across the street for another round of beers.
We had officially reached the point of mental lubrication where we were ready to experience the Red Light District and the famous Wall. The most important thing to understand is the tolerance of the Dutch, which is why all of the shenanigans take place in the city and while they are tolerant they also make sure to protect the children. Note in the shot below, which is the entrance to the Wall, parents are advised to hold their child's hand while taking them through the Red Light district.Now the Wall is like nothing else you will ever experience in your life. As you can see from the shot above it is narrow and a the peak it is a flowing sea of deviant humanity going both directions and window shopping. The prostitutes are just hanging out like mannequins in a store window only they are not selling the clothes they are wearing.Interesting, disturbing and definitely requires numerous beers as soon as you escape. By now the clocks we well into the start of a new day and the NECS was still out on the prowl looking for the next great experience or coffee shop and as you can see from the movie our riding confidence is at an all time high.
Finally sometime after 3 am we decided the adventure for the day had run it's course and it was back to Hotel Nes for a quick mint tea and sack time before the next day's adventure on the canals.

Welcome To Amsterdam

Team Towelie used a staged deployment for the assault on Amsterdam with Top Chef and C-Dubs getting to the airport early to secure top notch seating at the bar while Braveheart wrapped the final briefing at C Farms. You can imagine our surprise when we passed security only to discover there was no bar in the terminal!!!! Showing the lighting quick reflexes learned from years at the dojo C-Dubs immediately headed to duty free and contemplated the acquisition of a liter of Patron for some preflight cocktails. Plans were derailed when the clerk informed us it illegal to drink in the airport (boy are the standards different in the US vs. Amsterdam). Stone sober we waited for boarding before ingesting the knock out drops for the overnight flight.
Our arrival over Dutch soil was announced by the pilot and several frantic passengers in desperate need of airsickness bags. Despite the smooth flight it was fast turning into a pukefest and the infants in the row behind us exploded in it's diaper about the same time. Nothing quite like the smell of a steamer combined with last nights dinner greeting your senses right out of a deep slumber. First stop after clearing customs was the last of the coffee shops as we know them before for a round of double espressos before grabbing the cab to Hotel Nes. Right after checking in there was a rush up the stairs for an all out assault on Mt Kohler with a quick double deuce before setting out on the town.
Upon hitting the streets our attention was immediately caught by all of the tall Dutch women, lots of them, in short skirts wearing boots and riding bikes in boots!!!!Having the experience of countless missions to Amsterdam, Braveheart (aka the Mayor of Amsterdam), immediately took control and directed to the local open market to check out some of the goods of the citybefore steering the jet lagged team to what was to become our favorite place of refuge from the cold wet dutch weather - De Dampkring - where unlimited rounds of double espressos were served up by our favorite hostess, Nikki.Fully caffeinated and viewing life with a different perspective we headed out onto the streets to see what kind of trouble we could get into. Not even 2 blocks from De Dampkring and it was more boots and women on bikes, hundreds of them. Next we hit Droog, the local design center, where we picked up these awesome leg straps to keep the pants clean when cycling to the office.Then it was across the street to the toy store where this little critter, the canal rat, had all of us double over in laughter. It got so bad that we had to leave the store, sort ourselves out before heading into the chocolate shop to take care of our hunger.It is amazing what an appetite you can work up before 10 in the morning when you are touring the city, hitting the bike shops and local fairs. And along with the appetite one always needs to stay hydrated which is why we revived our tired bodies with another round of espressos before heading over to the Engelbewaar where we were able to secure the beer of choice - Palms and remind the Mayor or Stewart that we were having a beer and he wasn't.Well all of this excitement before noon and all of the strong Belgian beer in the afternoon was taking it's toll so we headed back to the hotel, with a quick stop at De Dampkring for a mint tea before taking an afternoon siesta where the Mayor of Amsterdam assumed the position of choice - horizontal.With a couple of hours of rest we immediately headed back to the Dampkring for a late afternoon pick me up before heading off to Pata Negra for dinner. It turns out this place not only had amazing food but was also the secret meeting place of tall, long legged Dutch beauties in the mandatory uniform of short black skirts, black stockings and leather boots with a minimum 3" heel. I was beginning to think I had died and gone to heaven.
Back out on the streets we hit several bars on our way back home and managed to get lost, that is until we looked up and saw that we had stumbled, literally, onto De Dampkring. Not wanting to impolite we stopped in for a goodnight mint tea, gave our best to Nikki and then headed to the land of slumber, saving our energy for tomorrow's time trial.

And It's Off To The Giro

Shortly Team Towelie, the off balance sheet division of the Millionaire's Riding Club/NECS, will be boarding the C Farms private jet for the Giro d'Italia. As you can see from this shot we are fully prepared to go head to head with the top sprinters.And of course on the flight over we will be playing the theme music for the trip - Funky Town

Operation Space Cake - Giro d'Italia 2010

Team Towelie (Braveheart, Top Chef & C-Dubs), the special ops unit of the NECS, have received deployment orders from the WADA for this weekend to commence Operation Space Cake. Disguised as regular tourists they will be heading to Continental Europe with the LZ insertion point being Amsterdam.
Due to the evolution of riders from these gentlemen of old that would share a bottle with a competitor, carry and change their own flats and pop an occasional amphetamine to make it up the next big climbto these modern day road warriors that sneak off to special blood clinics, inject EPO/CERA and slather their balls in testosterone cream.The mission's objective is to recon all coffee shops in the city, weed out any racers in the Giro d'Italia, and determine if they are involved in pharmacology experimentation, either for recreational or performance enhancement, and determine if their performance enhancement is merely due to superior training techniques, pharmacology experimentation or is there something more to their biological passports?
We will be targeting two specific groups of riders -

Performance Enhancing
Yes even a vampire would be feeling good with all that EPO and transfused blood flowing through it's veins.

Recreational/Lifestyle Usage As you can see from this shot, "Eight Ball" Tom Boonen has confused the Paris-Roubaix cobblestone with a block of wicked Peruvian flake and is trying to snort a line.
Of course to blend in with the crowds we consume copious amounts of coffee and make use of the favorite Dutch (and our own) mode of transportation - the bicycle. There are hazards associated with this tactic - loss of focus on the mission at hand due to too many of these riding aroundand of course the famed death trains - Amsterdam's uber silent trolleys.Once you hear the bell it is all over, which is why we intend to do as little riding as possible and instead kick back on the coffee barges like the rest of the Giro peleton