€ 100,000 for medical research cycled together!

They come from all over Europe and even North America. Norwegians, Spaniards, Britons, Germans, French, Americans, Germans, Slovenes and a Canadian. The Medical Cannabis Bike Tour is becoming increasingly international! There are even four women, which can surely only benefit the performance of the male riders. Our base is the town of Onda, where the cannabis circus set up camp in an impersonal hotel the day before the start. The Spanish spring sunshine ensures a pleasant temperature. A slight bummer is the wind blowing from the north. Shit, just the direction we need to cycle into tomorrow. But we can't turn back now: the sponsors that made this already historic occasion possible are counting on us. All for science!

They come from all over Europe and even North America. Norwegians, Spaniards, Britons, Germans, French, Americans, Germans, Slovenes and a Canadian. The Medical Cannabis Bike Tour is becoming increasingly international! There are even four women, which can surely only benefit the performance of the male riders. Our base is the town of Onda, where the cannabis circus set up camp in an impersonal hotel the day before the start.  The Spanish spring sunshine ensures a pleasant temperature. A slight bummer is the wind blowing from the north. Shit, just the direction we need to cycle into tomorrow. But we can’t turn back now: the sponsors that made this already historic occasion possible are counting on us.  All for science! 

1st stage: Onda -Tortosa, 130 km

We really did plan to leave on time, but that visit to the pizzeria last night got a little out of hand. As did our beer consumption for that matter. What the hell, the weather’s great, bring on the 130 kilometres. I’m wearing cycling shorts with three well-stocked panty liners on top of each other. You won’t hear me complain about saddle pain. At half past ten the peloton rides out of Onda. The flat land is still barren from the winter. The route takes us past sprawling mandarin orchards and fields of almond trees in full bloom. The smell is intoxicating: aromatherapy on wheels. After riding nearly 70 kilometres against the strong wind, lunch comes as a relief. No hot pasta like last year, but bread and lots and lots of bananas. While we are eating torn-off pieces of baguette, we hear some bad news: cannabis celebrity Jorge Cervantes has left the tour! The brakes of Cervantes’ brand new bike blocked, causing the longhaired featherweight to rollover twice. With all the stones along the road it could have ended a lot worse than a swollen hand and some leg abrasions. The disappointment is apparent on Cervantes’ face. He looks like a sad little boy in his now useless cycling outfit. Hasta la vista, Jorge!

2nd stage: Tortosa – Selva del Camp, 118 km

Today our destination is Selva del Camp, high up in the hills. ‘Hills’ sounds childish, but it certainly isn’t for us well-meaning amateurs. What does it matter if a pile of rocks is only 800 metres high if the road to the top is 30 kilometres long? The peloton quickly crumbles, and, seen from the hilltops above, resembles yellow-black spots scattered like ants creeping up the slope. The speeds differ dramatically. The slowest climbers move at a snail’s pace of seven km per hour, while the true descenders fly down at speeds of 70 km per hour, even passing cars on their way. The wind does not let up, and when the sun disappears behind the clouds, it becomes extremely cold. During lunch caregiver Alex folds a few pieces of makeshift insulation from cardboard which a few ladies slide under their jerseys. Sexy!

Nice training ride!?

There’s something ridiculous about it: barely trained, weed-smoking, beer-drinking adults pretending to be professional cyclists. But once you place your too-heavy body on the narrow strip of plastic of a racing saddle, you forget that you are a broiler chicken compared to the well-trained greyhounds in the pro peloton. In an unflattering tight cycling suit, it’s quite easy to imagine you’re Cancellara, Contador or Mollema. On a lightweight racing bike grown men turn into competitive cockerels, which applies equally to the members of the Medical Cannabis Bike Tour. Your morale sinks like a pudding if you get passed and are unable to follow. Look, there’s that damn Frenchman Jean-Philippe again on his expensive bike - and it’s even his spare bike! He’s an ‘amateur’, which in cycling means you ride on average 2 km per hour slower than professionals, for whom 40 km per hour against the wind is considered slow. Including races, they ride over 250 kilometres per week. No competition of course for us degenerate cannabis lovers. “Nice training ride,” I heard him say before. Daan, from coffee shop Dizzy Ducks in The Hague, can’t quite believe it. “That guy just flies up the mountain, without a visible drop of sweat...” he says with a mixture of indignation and awe, just before he leaves me behind without a chance. 

3rd stage: Selva del Camp – Barcelona, 128 km

Your muscles start to play up after two days of cycling. Groaning and with crooked legs we stumble over to the breakfast buffet. Fortunately cannabis also provides muscle pain relief. Paradise Seeds front man and tour organiser Luc warns that we are facing the acid test today: here come the mountains! Let’s first see whether we can get up from the breakfast table, then we’ll see. The first kilometres aren’t too bad. The wind doesn’t seem so sharp and the scenery, after all that pig farming, is increasingly idyllic.  Finally we drive through the unspoiled nature that we saw daily during the previous edition. Reservoirs surrounded by rustling forests, picturesque villages, a babbling stream we clamber over on a wobbly plank. Unless of course your name is Rasta Jan or Yuri and you tear through the stream at full speed. A lost Gaudí-esque church along the way adds a psychedelic touch. ¡Viva España, pardon... Catalunya! Jeroen and I leave lunch earlier to enjoy a cup of coffee at the nearest cafe. We have barely sat down before a yellow-black peloton in close formation comes buzzing by like a swarm of wasps. Impressive! The pack flies by with the ominous hum of rubber tires and well-lubricated bicycle chains. 

Before we can finish our cups they have disappeared behind the next roundabout. 

Agony Therapy

We subsequently reach the foot of our last obstacle, the Garraf Massif. Initially it doesn’t appear to be a problem, but as we get higher the more difficult the climb becomes. Time after time you think you have reached the top, but at every bend things are even higher and steeper. Even the descent, normally a hard-won reward after a climb, is diabolical. The road seems to collapse vertically into an abyss. On the poorly paved road are the chalked names of Horner, Valverde and other illustrious pros who have gone before us. Each slope is followed by a razor-sharp hairpin for which you pretty much have to bring your bike to a halt. Daan - fortunately unscathed and undamaged - takes a fall, while Organic Earth’s Bart is just barely able to avoid a collision. Cycling is also agony therapy. An unnoticed stone in a curve may be enough for life in a wheelchair. But above all, cycling is suffering. Your leg muscles burn, your shoulders are screaming for a massage and you just can’t figure out how to turn your butt to stop the pain for a bit. Cursing everything and everyone, you soldier on with only one goal: completing the tour. 

Time for the last few kilometres! While mental coach and centipede Patrick cackles hysterically through a megaphone from the bus, we ride in almost military fashion through the suburbs of Barcelona. Passersby stop in surprise and shout encouragement. Cheering children run along with us. Elderly people poke each other, reading the texts on our shirts with a smile. We merrily ring our bicycle bells, we look like a gamelan orchestra on wheels. Darkness falls well before we reach the city limits, and it will be a nail-biting final ten kilometres, nervously navigating between the cars that emerge from all side lanes. But then the Spannabis trade fair building finally appears in the distance. We are three days, 400 kilometres, 220 bananas, 330 muesli bars and 100,000 Euros in sponsorship money further. The Medical Cannabis Bike Tour 2014 is over. Mission accomplished!  

Thanks to all the sponsors, our caregivers and mental coaches Tim and Christopher, Doc Medique, tour comedian and bicycle whisperer Gerard, Alex and Roos, Patrick, Kees, Luc and Matej.