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Waking up last Sunday I contemplated a re-run of the Herentals trails. Quick. Enjoyable. Home in no time.

Instead, later in the morning when busying myself with some paper work, my eyes fixated on a long-forgotten map lingering on my desk; trail map of Anhée.

And so, a couple of hours later, I parked up at the starting point, slightly hoarse from singing along to the CD of Melissa Etheridge.

Signage was confusing already from the start. This was confirmed by someone having manually with a permanent marker drawn extra arrows on the signs. Whenever the international mountain bike symbol of a triangle with two wheels below is used, normally the triangle is pointing the direction you are to go. NORMALLY. HABITUALLY. Apparantly not so in Anhée. Here, the piece of material that the mountain bike symbol has been put ON is shaped in the form of an arrow. Let me add a picture as an example.

Where goes the trail in the picture? To the northwest, yes. Simple as cake? Not for me. I kept having to remind myself at every junction, my spontaneity would otherwise have taken me astray many times. And then my confusion increased as some signs WERE the habitual way. ARGH!

I found signage also a bit too scarce. It was difficult to rest assured that you were on the right way. It is so easy that a crucial sign “disappears”, in wild vegetation or by human sabotage … or maybe lack of human placing in the first place? Riding a bit too enthusiastically for this set-up, I had to back-track a couple of times.

Trail symbols are coloured not only the HABITUAL yellow (yy), green (gg), blue (bb) and red (rr), but also in various colour combinations of triangle\wheels; yellow triangle with green wheels (yg); green triangle with blue wheels (gb), and red wheels (gr), and yellow wheels (gy); and blue triangle with green wheels (bg). Only the red trail symbol (rr) has remained “intact”.

There are nine trails. All start out from Anhée; four trails start out together to the southwest, another three head up north along the river La Meuse, and two take a loop into the southeast along the river. I opted for the southwest option and the 32 km distance; green triangle with red wheels (gr).

With the immense overlapping of trails, the many signs available everytime there was a change in direction, I found it hard to remember WHICH colour combination I originally set out on, and wanted to stick to. Once back home I did an overview of my loop, and the overlapping trails, and I have to say it’s too much, too confusing.

There were too many loooooooong tarmac sections on “my” loop. Each time we FINALLY reached any track with ANY KIND of ressemblance of an off-road section, my mood improved dramatically. I experienced pure euphoria when the occasional technical downhill came up. More of those, darned it! The serpentine section from Point de vue des Sept Meuses is pretty decent a downhill; wide, but rocky with loose gravel and rain-made gullies, and SERPENTINE. The climb up there was on tarmac, though; and just look at those paths that could be explored on the way in Bois de Marli!!

Back at river level, although beautiful, I was sad to ride on tarmac along the river. Crossing a super-busy road I was scared enough to use the pavement and then the zebra crossing. My line of thought was that if I die trying to cross, there might not only be a handsome amount paid on the insurance; but maybe even more so if I die on the actual zebra crossing. I have no idea if my theory holds any reality.

I got lost enough many times to end up with more than the intended 32 kilometer. My brand new trail map had started to fall apart from necessary consultation. So much for 7 euro charged by the Tourist Office (the map was, by the way, only 6.40 euro in my favourite map shop).

At 33.6 km, getting close to the finish, walking up a pretty steep uphill with lots of loose rocks, I heard a funny noise from my front tyre: a flat! At the top I settled down for some bike fixing; the fresh breeze took the strength out of the sunshine. Instead of just replacing my tyre, I decided to patch it. That good intention went down the drain, when my glue turned out to have evaporated into thin air. So much for doing a regular inventory of my backpack contents. I have obviously not learnt from years of experience, either. Going down memory lane of being stuck in the middle of nowhere, on a very narrow singletrack section, and with a brand new pump having collected lots of mud from its place on the bike frame, not working when I finally did need it …

Having replaced the tube, I was met by a plateau of double track. And then a tarmac descent. Oh no. At the bottom, I recognized that the Tourist Office was just to the left, while the trail took me to the right. ONTO a super busy tarmac road. Not even the former railroad (having been transformed into a bike path) offered safety; you HAD to continue on the tarmac road, as you were to take left at the next junction. More tarmac. Left again. More tarmac. Get up on the bike path this time! And then, just before the bridge; a tiny bit of fantastic off-road on your right-hand side. Dog walkers stared sullenly, despite my usual passing at low speed and saying a cheerio hello, and thank you on top of that. Until then I had not met anything but smiles from people around me.

This 32-km loop has way too much tarmac! I am, however, confident that this area has more to offer. I know people that, after some trail exploring, keep going back for more! You just need to look at the map, and the height curves, and the masses of GREEN on it, and wonder: Why the hell have they taken the trail onto the neighbouring tarmac section? Look at all those “official paths” (the words of a staff member of IGN I once talked to) … they are screaming TRAIL EXPLORE ME!

You need the official map for orientation, that’s all I can say. If I ever feel like trail exploring, Anhée is the place to go!

A couple of photos here.