I decided to dust off the old blog again and write a little about my goings on national treasure trail ‘the Pieterpad’. For those unfamiliar, the trail runs about 498 km / 309 miles, spanning the length of the Netherlands. I started this trail 2 years ago at the most northern point – Pieterburen – and hiked south for about 5 sections to the little village of Sleen. I picked it up again during spring of ’25 and gotten as far as Hellendoorn. Which is where I started today on this lovely sunny morning on monday april 27th. “On Kingsday?!” some might say.. Yes, I will be hardpressed to muster-up any FoMo by skipping the orange madness and delighting in a springtime outdoor recharge instead. Happy birthday though to his excellency Mr. van Oranje-Nassau. Long may he reign.
Around eight I arrived at the trainstation to witness the effects of Kings-night ripple out into the morning. Partygoers with bloodshot eyes, disheaveled clothes and smeared out facepaint on their way home after a long night. The kind woman of the railway company checking the carriages for stragglers that fell asleep. The random guy in an alcohol infused daze being told that he’s taken the train far beyond his supposed destination. The platforms dusted with beercaps and cigarettebuds. Stale vibes that made me feel glad to be out in the countryside soon.
My pack is a bit on the heavy side – carrying some gear with more emphasis on comfort, foregoing the need to shed as many grams as possible. Fortunately on this trail there’s no need for large foodcarries; restaurants, café’s, supermarkets aplenty en route. After loyal commitment to Brooks trailrunners on and after the PCT, I chose to make a change and buy a pair of Altra Lone Peak’s, curious to find out if the key features like the wide toe-box and zero-drop sole enhance the hiking experience. First impression is they’re very comfy.
This morning was clouded and the air cool. Got off the train and hiked the 40 minutes to where I got off trail last year, the centre of Hellendoorn. Picked up a couple of croissants and got going. There were meadows, and farms, fancy houses, trees and shrubs.
There was music in the air; birdsong galore. Not that many hikers out, and mainly dayhikers. For me it was mostly snacks and hiking, hiking and snacks. No need for a long lunchbreak, since I started at 11. Somewhere in there I booked a slot at a nearby campsite, as wild camping is generally not allowed in this here country.
Made it to the end of this stage, the village of Holten, at 15 oclock, which was 15 km done. Got a cup of tea and a slice of pie, and picked up a public-transport-bike from the station.
Was warmly greeted at the capsite by the owner, and he gave me a prime piece of real estate in the center of the field. Pitched my tent, and treated myself to a blisfully hot shower. Chatted some with the neighbors (who live only a couple of villages away from my own home town) and got on the bike again back to the Holten for some food. The restaurant was filling up quickly so I decided to get my pizza to go. Found me a nice spot and enjoyed the (somewhat ironically titled) greek sensation. No surprise that after a day of hiking, it tasted mighty fine. My neigbors mentioned it gets very cold during the nights and mornings, so thermals are on, and am ready to call it an evening (at 1900). No chance of sleeping yet, so it’ll be reading and possibly a series on the phone. Sayonara.
